The second guard nodded slowly.

“Go on through, ma’am,” the first guard said, swiping his card to unlock the gate.

“The holding cells are on the lower level.”

“Thank you,” I said.

I walked through the gate, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The elevator took me down to the sub-level.

The air here was different, colder and smelled of ozone and bleach.

I stepped out into a corridor lined with heavy steel doors.

An officer at the desk looked up as I approached.

“I’m here to see Major Cross,” I said.

He checked his logbook, then looked at my badge.

“You have five minutes,” he said, pressing a button under his desk.

The heavy lock on the third door on the right clicked open.

I walked to the door and grabbed the cold metal handle.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing pulse.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The cell was small, lit by a single fluorescent bulb that hummed in the ceiling.

Vanessa Cross sat on a metal bench against the back wall.