“And as you can see by the presentation, our facility is more than capable of holding these ‘special’ prisoners,” Alexander Flint concluded as the PowerPoint clicked off. He turned to see several very unfriendly and very unconvinced faces. Flint scowled within the safe confines of his mind. How dare they question him and his facility’s safety and secrecy from the outside world? He had been running this particular government approved jail from its founding. They had no right to come in here and demand a complete change of protocol. And yet here they all sat.
“I think we would all be much more convinced if we could see these new precautions for ourselves,” said one of the younger ones.
“I’m willing to offer a tour to one or two of you. But we’re gonna have to make it quick,” Flint made a big show of checking his watch. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”
“Oh, I assure you, we don’t wish to see the whole facility. But there is one inmate in particular who catches our eye. This one seems more dangerous than the others. And as I understand, it has escaped twice from its holding cell,” the man’s voice dripped with syrup. Flint ground his teeth.
“And you must have also heard that it didn’t make it down the hallway before it was restrained.”
“We’ve also been told that the recent, dangerous storms in this area are the fault of this one prisoner. Shouldn’t one with an abnormality of that magnitude be kept in one of the underground facilities overseas?”
“We have it under control now, and she, ahem, it, has already proven that an underground facility is far more dangerous.”
Flint snapped, “Look, do you want a tour or not? He meant to sound tough, but it just came out strained.
“By all means, Mr. Flint,” the man said, “lead the way.”
He led the small group through the different cells, watching as their faces became more satisfied with each passing step. All the special precautions, all the security measures, the iris readers, and the dozen or so highly trained guards every few feet; it didn’t fail to impress. Flint then led them to the very end of the very last corridor. A huge iron door with three different electronic locks, it’s very own iris scanner, a palm scan, and two of the best guards in the United States gave the impression that Houdini himself lay beyond the door. As Flint went through the procedure to open it, he smirked at the practically gawking officials.
“And now, for our pride and joy,” he said as he whisked open the door. “We call this the Tempest Room!” He couldn’t disguise the excitement in his voice as he watched for the men’s reactions, but he quickly realized something was up when he saw glares and heard snickers. Flint wheeled around the door to cast his eyes upon… an empty room. It was simply adorned, with a bed, a dresser, a bookcase, and a television set. Nothing in the room possessed any color, but right then Flint didn’t notice any of that. The ‘pride and joy’ was nowhere to be seen.
Flint jumped as a voice interrupted his panicked thoughts, “So, as you were saying Mr. Flint, this one could not possibly escape, hmm?”