"Why the hell!?" Christina exclaimed in disbelief.
"How did our names end up on these?" Stefan asked, studying his ID.
"And our pictures look older," Rachael added. Her gaze locked onto Raymond. "You knew we were coming, didn't you? Or how did our photos get on these IDs?"
"Trust me, guys, you wouldn't believe me if I explained. I sound like a lunatic even to myself," Raymond said.
"Try us. We've experienced the unimaginable. Nothing fazes us anymore," Stefan urged.
"Yes, explain. How did you prepare these IDs?"
"I didn't create those ID cards," Raymond explained. "Someone else did. Remember, I told you I'm doing this to stay alive?"
The trio nodded.
"I heard your alien friend's voice in my head last night. I was on night duty, guarding the chief scientist's office. That's when I learned your friend was captured."
"I was standing outside the door when his voice echoed in my mind. At first, I thought it was a fellow agent, but when I asked, he denied speaking. The voice came again, threatening and urgent, warning me to cooperate or face consequences."
"It's telepathy," Christina said. "Djuma communicated with you through telepathy."
"What are you talking about?" Stefan inquired.
"Tell me, Raymond. How far were you from him when he spoke to you?" Christina asked.
Raymond raised up his head, closing his eyes to recollect. "About five or six meters," he replied.
"Telepathy? What are you guys talking about?" Rachael asked.
"Djuma has communicated with me telepathically before. As long as your mind is open and you're within five meters, you can hear his voice," Christina elucidated.
"Djuma's abilities…," Stefan said. "I've seen glimpses, but I never thought it extended to telepathy. Just how powerful is this bat-man?"
"What else do you know, Christina?" Rachael asked.
"That's all, he only revealed it to me when he was trying to speak with me discreetly," Christina shrugged.
Discreetly? Rachael thought to herself. Just as she was about to query her on what Djuma discussed with her through telepathy, Raymond interrupted—
"But something felt off..."
"What?!"
"It was as if the alien hacked into NASA's computers," Raymond continued. "He instructed me to retrieve something from the Office of Human Capital Management. It was when I got there that I discovered it was your ID cards."
"How did he manage to do that?"
"Hacking computers is child's play for Djuma," Rachael said. "His powers exceed our understanding."
Stefan rubbed his chin in a scholarly manner. "If he can hack systems, then he's capable of setting himself free. Why hasn't he freed himself?"
"Exactly!" Raymond exclaimed. "What's stopping him?"
What's Djuma's plan? There's something we're missing, Rachael thought. "Did he ask you to bring anything for him? Anything at all?" she asked Raymond.
Raymond thought for a moment and finally nodded. "Ah, yes! Now that you mention it... He did say something odd. He asked me to tell you that he needs to cover his head."
"He said you'd understand," he added. "But why does he need to cover his head?"
"What's Djuma thinking?" Stefan said in contemplation.
Rachael's eyes widened as realization struck. "The sun!" she exclaimed. "Djuma is trying to protect himself from the sun's energy."
"Oh my God! That means he's…" Christina trailed off.
"Yes, he's planning to leave immediately after release."
Rachael swiftly scanned the dimly lit underground garage, her eyes locking onto a sleek bike parked in the corner a short distance away.
Without hesitation, she sprinted toward it. She grabbed the helmet attached to the bike's handlebars and dashed back to her friends.
"We need to go now, guys!" she urged, gasping for breath.
Stefan suddenly glanced as a movement caught the corner of his eyes. Christina followed his gaze but saw nothing.
"What's wrong, Stefan?" she asked.
"I thought I saw someone flashed a light at us just now," Stefan replied.
"There's no one here, let's go!" Rachael insisted.
"Not without this," Raymond intervened, retrieving a disassembled objects from the back of the van. He swiftly assembled a cart and arranged cleaning tools inside.
"Follow me," he instructed. "Cleaners can't enter after 9 a.m. You must go in ASAP."
Stefan hesitated, but shook off the strange feelings of being watched.
Leading the trio out of the underground garage, Raymond guided them toward a side entrance.
"Enter through that door," he said, pointing to the entrance guarded by two NPS agents.
"Aren't you coming with us?" Stefan asked.
"I thought you were leading this," Christina added.
"You should know him by now; he avoids danger," Rachael said, shaking her head. "He's done enough already. We can't risk getting him involved and jeopardizing his job."
Raymond grinned charmingly as he caressed his short beard. "You're on your own from here. I wish you the best of luck."
Christina glanced at Raymond. "We'll get him out. Thanks for your help."
Rachael nodded in agreement.
"We owe you one."
"Let's do this," Stefan said, staring at the entrance.
With a deep breath, the trio grasped their cart handles, ready to embark on their daring rescue mission.
They propelled their carts toward the entrance Raymond had specified. Upon arriving at the designated location, they were confronted with a sturdy green door bearing a bold, unmistakable inscription: "Staff Only."
The directive was emblazoned in prominent letters, leaving no ambiguity regarding authorized access.
Two NPS agents stood guard, their postures unwaveringly vigilant. One of them extended his hand, palm upward.
"Identification, please," he commanded.
Without hesitation, the trio presented their IDs, which the guard meticulously collected. He scrutinized each card, his eyes darting between the cards and the trio. His gaze lingered on their nose masks which was already secured on their faces.
"I've never seen you guys before," he rasped. "Are you newly appointed members of the cleaning personnel?"
Rachael stepped forward, her demeanor confident and composed. "We are the special cleaning team employed yesterday," she clarified.
"We're running out of time," she added. "May we proceed?"
The guard deliberated momentarily, weighing his options, before acquiescing. He stepped aside, gesturing to them to enter.
Just as the trio grasped their cart handles, preparing to advance, the second guard intervened.
"Didn't the regular cleaning team conclude their duties approximately an hour ago?" he inquired. "Cleaners typically arrive before 6 a.m., so what necessitates your presence at this unusually late hour?"
A palpable sense of trepidation gripped the trio, and Stefan's anxiety manifested in an uncontrollable sneeze. Rachael's voice, however, remained steadfast and resolute.
"As I mentioned earlier, we're special—"
"Enough of that! Remove your masks!" The second guard interrupted before she could finish her words, his tone brusque and commanding.
He advanced toward them with his hand reaching for Stefan's mask, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Just then, the door behind them opened, and a woman emerged, her presence defusing the tense situation.
"Aren't you the newest cleaning team?" she inquired.
The trio exchanged skeptical glances before nodding fervently in unison.
"Yes, ma'am, we are."
"Follow me, please," she instructed, retreating back into the building.
The guards exchanged disappointed glances, their faces reflecting frustration, before stepping aside to allow the trio to proceed.