Satellite photos showed the gate fronted an avenue along the north side of the prison. The walls enclosed a massive complex. The prison was built around a tall central tower from which radiated six long spokes. The space between the spokes housed a bit of green space and what might have been an exercise yard. One spoke connected the central tower to the main gate, suggesting they were built in a similar style. The other five looked more modern, or at least like they hadn’t been built during the fucking Crusades.

Better yet, the modern spokes had skylights. That, and the layout, gave her the beginnings of a plan.

“Okay,” she said. “I think I know how to get us inside. But it’s gonna take two steps, and then we’ll have to work our way to whatshisface’s cell.”

“You mean Highwayman? His name’s Bruckner.”

“Your plan rests on convincing him to effectively commit suicide. If he doesn’t help, we’re all dead. If he does, I’ll never meet him again. So I really couldn’t give two runny shits about his name.”

“Wow, kid. You’re just a beam of sunshine,” said Ray.

Bubbles said, “Tell us your plan, sweetie.”

“First, we get on the roof.” Mollie tapped the screen with her fingernail. “There, I think. Near the skylights. Once I’m there I can peer through the windows and make a portal inside. We step from the roof to inside this long corridor.”

Babel asked, “But how do we find Bruckner?”

“I’m guessing this central tower controls everything. There must be a master alarm or security station. If we can get there, we can find him. We might even luck out with a CCTV feed, in which case I open a doorway right to his cell.” She shrugged. “It’d be a hell of a lot easier if I could create a shortcut straight to the tower. But once on the roof I’d need a high-power telescope on a tripod and time to study the windows before I could try it. They’ll make us long before that. The skylight is farther away but it’ll get us inside a lot faster.”

Or so I hope, she didn’t add. Assuming I can keep my shit together. Assuming I don’t lose control.

“Huh.” Ray crossed his arms, frowning as though in grudging approval. “That’s … not half bad.”

The others concurred. Mollie wondered how much of the agreement was tactical encouragement directed at her. Ray looked around the room. Babel and Bubbles nodded at him. “We’re ready when you are.”

Mollie stared at the screen, concentrating.

At least this time there wasn’t an imminent danger of the site getting absorbed by the Psycho Cannibal Flashmob Evil Insanity Zone. Hell, no. That was at least two days away, three at the outside. Why, if this idiotic plan failed, the world might persist for entire week before the last unsullied patches were overrun by the squamous rugose incarnations of malignant madness. And this time around the potential drawbacks of the plan going wrong didn’t involve nuclear weapons going off like a string of firecrackers. So the pressure on Mollie to get the ball rolling was considerably lessened, comparatively speaking.