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Two minutes and fourteen seconds. Assuming everyone she’d roped into her plan did exactly what they were supposed to do when they were supposed to do it, it would take Eva Stratt two minutes and fourteen seconds to escape the world’s most maximum security prison.
Of course, that time also depended on her and her ability to shimmy through air ducts not built for human passage without attracting any attention. Lucky for her, she’d managed to hang onto the privilege of gym time and occasional outdoor activities, and unnecessary nutrients in her meals were happily scarfed up by her fellow inmates.
She was certain of the capabilities and loyalty of nearly every person on her carefully crafted team. Everyone except—
The sound of rhythmic rubber on concrete pulled Stratt out of her anticipation, and she rose from her cot to meet the owner of the footsteps. “Frank,” she greeted the man in charge of guarding her cell, holding her hand out palm-up. “You brought what I needed?”
Frank stood with his hands on his hips, refusing to look at her as he kept himself in profile and lips pursed. “There are no more wild arctic penguins,” he eventually said, continuing to stare a hole into the floor. “Did you know that? They only exist in zoos now. Who knows how much longer people will have the resources to keep those zoos open.”
“The arctic is well on its way to refreezing,” Stratt said, unwavering in her own gaze against the side of his face, still holding out her hand. “As is the rest of the world.”
Frank bit his lip, drumming his fingers against his waist as he turned his head away from Stratt. “You’ve done some awful things to the world, Stratt. Irreversible things. Things you plead guilty to in court.”
“I did,” Stratt said. There was no denying her miles-long list of wrongs, there never was. But the time had come to move on from her penance. Lowering her hand and taking a step forward, she continued, “And in doing so I gave humanity the smallest shard of hope to hold on to.”
Frank said nothing, simply giving a sharp sigh through his nose as he continued refusing to look at her.
She couldn’t afford to have her plan fall apart before it had even started. Tilting her head at him, she asked, “Do you think I’ve lost track of the calendar in here? In two weeks’ time it will have been twelve years since the Hail Mary launched. Twelve years since three brave souls volunteered to pursue the Earth’s one chance at survival. If they haven’t started their work by now, they will be soon. We all know it is a miniscule chance, but if they send back an answer for us, do you not want that solution to be delivered to the largest population possible?”
Again, Frank bit his lower lip, shaking his head at the floor. “Three brave volunteers…” he muttered under his breath.
It was Stratt’s turn to stay silent, keeping her expression perfectly neutral despite her body’s desire to freeze up. If Frank knew about the details of Grace’s last-minute boarding, he’d have to ask about her decision out loud if he wanted her to defend her actions.
Still, she could see she needed to persuade him further. She had no time for long-winded explanations. Leaning even further forward, she said, “Twelve years ago the world needed someone willing to do anything to ensure humanity’s survival. It didn’t have to be me, but I turned into the best person for the job. Now here we are, in the middle of an ice age, needing that same kind of person. Unless you think you can fill those shoes better than I can, I suggest you hand over what I asked of you.”
A thick silence hung in the air between them, punctuated only by the snores of other inmates in what sparse cells there were in this particular hall. Eventually, Frank shook his head again, though this time it was accompanied by a small excuse of a grin and a scoffed chuckle. “It really is a thankless job,” he said.
“I do not need to be thanked. I need to keep humanity from starving itself before the world officially becomes uninhabitable,” she responded.
Frank sighed once more, finally turning to face Stratt as he pulled out a screwdriver from its hiding place on his belt and handed it to her through the bars. “Better hop to it, then.”
She gave him neither confirmation nor gratitude, simply took the tool from his grasp and moved to get to work, not bothering to watch him as he left.
The timer would begin as soon as Frank exited the cell block, and though she was put behind schedule, Stratt was determined to start getting to the real work in two minutes and fourteen seconds.