By Peter B. and Art Intelli
Chapter Two: Induction
The compound wasn’t on any map. Surrounded by rusted fencing and tall mesquite trees, it sat like a secret in the heart of nowhere—half ranch, half fortress. The main building looked like a converted barn, only the reinforced doors and surveillance cameras hinted at its true purpose.
Peter stumbled up the steps between the twins, their huge hands still gripping his arms. The door creaked open, and the blast of cool, conditioned air hit his sweat-slicked skin like a slap. Inside was a stark, dimly lit room lined with metal lockers and pegboard walls hung with restraints, batons, coils of rope, and iron collars thick as wrists. A worn leather barber chair sat at the center beneath a spotlight, its chrome arms fitted with heavy straps.
