A loud blare echoed through the tight hallway, signifying the bolted gate was now unlocked and the group could continue through this checkpoint. The Warden would open the gate, saluting the nearby guard, and walk through, allowing for the men of the 141 to cross through behind him. Kyle and Johnny shared a look before following their Captain and Lieutenant through. A few transport guards follow behind the squad and then with a loud clang, the gate bolts shut behind the group.
On the walk down they’d pass cells that housed other high-profile individuals. Some seemed focused on their own business, while others watched the soldiers pass with intense interest. Gaz piped up, “So, this Anon… Do we really need them for this? I mean a specialist like this, working with authoritative military?”
Ghost barely turned his head back to confirm gruffly, “Unfortunately they seem to have extensive knowledge on our current target and the market he deals in, so yes. Anon’s expertise and advice is warranted.”

Soap couldn’t help but feel slightly fascinated as they walked past the cells, curious about the background of the person they were about to meet. Nearing the end of the hall, the Warden spoke up. “I already mentioned this but I’ll say it again. Anon is a highly unpredictable individual who has been granted this privilege to assist you. Do not cross the white line and get too close to their cell. They are tactically dangerous and resourceful.” That got Soap’s attention. “The transport team will enter their cell and prepare them to leave with you, but while that procedure happens you are allowed to converse.”

With that they finally reached the end of the hallway, the last cell. They took note of the white painted line on the floor, a considerable distance from the glass of Anon’s cell. The task force could easily see them in their room. The walls had a few posters, books, and papers strewn about the place on a small table. Diagrams had been etched into the wall next to their issued cot. A cot in which Anon calmly sat upon with their eyes closed and legs crossed politely at the ankles.
‘A form of focus?’ Soap wasn’t sure, but despite their tranquil appearance, Anon sure had a powerful presence about them. Intense. Calculating. Mysterious.
That thought was interrupted by a shout from the Warden.

“Anon!” The Warden announced, “You’ve got an audience.” At that, the transport team began the meticulous process of safely entering Anon’s cell to prepare them for transport to wherever the 141 needed them.