Bad Guy HQ

​I wasn’t exactly sure where I was.

Sure “Bad Guy HQ, but was this a satellite office, or the main branch?

No evidence of windows:  basement probably.

I looked up.

Sprinklers.

I smiled.

We could be in the worst fucking country and it was still somebody’s job to go around and make sure the minimum code was enforced.

Bureaucrats are the same everywhere.

“Excuse me, Mister Dictator, Sir, but your fearsome and fatal secret torture chamber and prison must be set back from the roadway a minimum of fifty feet.”

I followed the supply lines.

A couple of corners later, I found what I was looking for.

There was an illuminated panel over what looked like a fire door,

“Xzit.”

I pushed through and headed for the fresh air.