I nodded, taking a deep breath to steady my racing heart.

I walked into the main room of the facility, where a massive concrete basin sat empty in the center.

The ceiling was high, crisscrossed with rusted iron pipes.

I pulled my phone out and turned on the flashlight, setting it on a concrete ledge so it cast a dim, angled light across the room.

Then, I slid the switch on the small black recorder in my pocket.

A tiny red light blinked once, indicating it was active.

I stood near the basin, my hands tucked into my pockets, waiting.

The silence of the building was heavy, broken only by the occasional drip of water from the ceiling.

Ten minutes passed.

Then, the sound of a car engine approached from the road below.

The headlights swept across the high, dirt-grimed windows of the facility, casting long, moving shadows across the walls.

The engine cut out.

A car door slammed.

Footsteps crunched on the gravel outside, slow and deliberate.

I stood perfectly still, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The side door creaked open.