The corridor was eerily silent as Winter, Bale, and Harlowe walked away from the interrogation room. Their footsteps echoed, but none of them spoke. It wasn't safe.
Winter's pulse was still thrumming from the encounter. He could feel the weight of unseen eyes watching them, the pressure of the officials' threat hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break. He didn't need to check his six to know they were still being monitored.
Harlowe, uncharacteristically silent, walked just a step behind Bale. His usual easy grin was gone, replaced by a sharp, calculating expression Winter rarely saw on him.
They passed two security officers, their black uniforms crisp, their gazes unreadable as they stood by the doors leading out. The moment Winter stepped through the threshold and into the cool night air, tension uncoiled slightly in his shoulders.
But they weren't safe yet.
