From the outside, he grasped the bottom of the window and pulled it upward. He heaved himself up and crawled in through the open window, then plonked down onto the ground beneath it in a sprawled heap. He wished his powers were more easily accessed here; he could certainly do with some cushioning on his behind for all these tumbles he was taking. It would be black and blue before long.

He hurried out of the room and looked first left and then right down the corridor. It was empty.

Knowing that turning left would bring him back to the factory floor where the guards were positioned, Oliver headed right down the corridor.

He moved as quickly and quietly as possible. He reached a door and knelt down to peer in through the keyhole. It was just a storeroom. He moved on to the next door. This one stood ajar. But when Oliver peered inside, he just saw a room filled with wooden shelving and dusty old books.

Oliver went on and on, peering into each room he passed. Where could Lucas have hidden the bomb?

Finally, he reached the last room of the corridor. In the modern era, this room contained Armandos time machine and the door was a huge steel barricade. But not so here. In the past, the door was wooden, just the same as the others.

Oliver tried the handle and it yielded. He looked inside. The disappointing sight of a room filled with old furniture awaited him.

Frustrated, Oliver closed the door and rested his back against it. His heart was hammering with nerves. Every second that passed felt like a second wasted, a second that he came closer to failing.

He searched his mind frantically, desperate for some kind of memory or clue to surface.

Suddenly, a thought struck Oliver. During the short time hed been working alongside Lucas, hed observed a peculiar tic in the old man; a place he often gravitated toward. It was nothing more than an alcove near the place his workbench was set up, but he would walk up to it several times a day, as though the spot brought him some kind of comfort. Oliver wondered, now, if the place had meaning to Lucas. It was worth a shot, since hed hit a dead end.

Oliver hurried back along the corridor. He peered out to the main factory forecourt. It was still busy, with workmen hurrying all around the place, but the crowds had begun to thin out a little as the working day began to draw to an end. Oliver glanced over at the spot where Lucass workbench was situated in the modern factory. Though there was no workbench in this era, the alcove was indeed there. Oliver had only one shot to reach it without being spotted.