Something which he had planned since day he found about the existence of Walker was now no more in progress. All the things happening were more than bad luck and coincidence.

It was also possible that Bob had deceived him or he was deceiving Bob. Two swords never cross.

One must get out. And Camshron was not in the mood of surrendering.

Prison's third rule-Turn off the lights after 9. This rule was a maniac for others but a miracle for Camshron. Darkness was the sole way to deceive cameras. Night vision cameras were not in the cells but were outside the cell and in the prison yard. He knew the warden would come at 1 am. Maybe even at 12:45 and finding a detective awake at midnight would make warden feel skeptical.

But Bob couldn’t sleep.

He needed to do something now.

Camshron thought- Where can culprits go if he if he is feeling insecure now? He won't be hiding in US for his whole rest of life. In danger to be caught any moment. Investigation is paused and every social media is saying Norton the killer. He might be feeling safe for at least one reason.

Bob, feeling secured was a difference maker now.

Camshron was willing to risk everything to catch him. He could feel time running out for him for this moment.

Warden could arrive there any minute and he couldn’t also pretend to sleep because his nap time was going to be over anyway when the clock struck 1. Jailers and officials get active after 1 and it meant a complete mess for him.

He was leaning against the wall in tension.

Camshron could think nothing in a moment other than his plan. As per his deductions, Bob was an extraordinary person- extraordinary murderer who managed a killer set up in the best way possible.

Since he was in the case, he was drawing closer and closer to his believing, "When a crime is done pitch perfect, it is the set up by victim himself." Someone had told him during his childhood, but he never believed it. But now he was thinking to believe it.

The point restarted- How did a killed man kill himself?

Nobody except Haq knew. Nobody knew his schedule and nobody knew whom he had contacted with.

A murder happens all of a sudden and a quick fire conclusion takes place- Norton- the boss, Bob- the manager and Mike- the worker. Then who the hell was the man who attacked Mike? Was he Bob? Or was he Walker?

Nobody took all this with seriousness.

As per the condition, Norton had hired him to eliminate Mike. This all confusion had led him to prison. From every corner, the case was against Norton. And all this had happened because of Bob, who made this entire successful plan and caught Norton by his neck.

The name 'Bob' was truth and only he could reveal it. To clear all these, Camshron needed to have a huge risk. Just Bob's confession was the thing which could reveal all those things.

He was going on crazy.

It was a do or die situation, but now the only way to it was fight or flight.

If he wouldn’t take any step in two minutes, then he could also fall in the case.

He could guess and talked to himself in a stressful manner, "He can go nowhere. He knows every thing. This means he has a connection in everything we have. He can't take a flight to anywhere. He is stuck here. He can't leave this country until Norton is finalized as the real killer. He can only hide." And as per his experience, when culprit feels safe then they think it is better to hide under the nose of person hunting them down.

Langley was a foolish deed but (if murder was no more a murder then) DC would be a heaven.

The Heaven.

—

"Have they all gone crazy?" Mr. Fernsby bellowed in extreme aggression, "The prison authority?"

"We can't understand about it. I can't believe this." said the senior jailer, not trying to look at embarrassed Mr. Meredink.

"So you think the whole prison was napping?" Mr. Meredink could not hold it anymore. He could face everything but couldn’t stand anyone scolding his employees no matter if he was DSA in-charge or any other higher official.

"I would have been quiet if I were you. It's your entire fault."

"And what's my fault? I said to shift him to Ross County. You guaranteed me."

"Oh crap! My fault. All my…It's my fault I involved MPD with CIA in this case while I had FBI. There were people who died just detecting the crimes. You know him? He got killed in 2002 but…"

Prison break alarm was echoing in everyone's ears. It was sound even louder than the ambulance siren.

Jailer said, "Camshron was put in the most secure cell…"

"Oh it was…"

"…he was in his cell between 12 and 12:45. Wham! He made a plan in 45 minutes and rushed out? Impossible."

"You think you can understand a detective whom I could not understand in four years? You say 45 minutes?"

Mr. Meredink said, "The perimeters are sealed. He couldn’t have gone far in ten minutes."

"Wait! Was anyone among you helping him?"

"Help…and him?…tut!"

"So how can he escape in 45 minutes?"

"Maybe one of your officers was helping him."

"And who might be his good friend right here?"

"Let me think." said Mr. Fernsby, trying to roll his brain on something. "Where is Les? Call him right now."

—

Nobody enjoys walking on the same sort of busy street near to the White House. Not if he is a person who has just mysteriously broken a prison few minutes ago. That man had a cell phone in his hand and was trying hard enough to act normal. He could hear the police siren coming near to him. Perhaps now it was not meant for him, but any minute it could turn on him. For the first time in his life, he was afraid of a policeman.

For some reasons he was being careless about his mentally made equation. The only thing he needed to do was to find Bob as soon as possible but it is never easy job to find a single person in the whole city, not if cops are running madly after you.

What if Bob is not in DC?

His mind was reciting it every moment as his heartbeat and pulses increased.

Be positive detective…you can explain…

As any vehicle passed nearby him then he used to turn his head at the other side. He couldn’t run too. Running meant a weird activity at night, and nothing could be worse than a cop watching it.

DC cops are trained to be much active during the night time.

Right now the whole city was active.

A glance! Wham! Prison- nightmare!

He was relieved because he was with one and only person who understood his mind and helped him to escape from hell- Les. Soon his relief was about to end.

Les' phone rang. He couldn’t believe it- Mr. Fernsby.

He received the call.

Les spoke like he always did, "Les here, May I help you sir?"

"Where are you?"

His eyes widened. Camshron knew Les was also now in trouble.

"I am in my room, sir. You know-flat no. 27…"

"I don’t expect running vehicles inside your room." was the devastating answer. He had heard a vehicle- the only thing denoting his absence from the room, "Tell me now. Where is he?"

"I-I am in my room. Who are you talking about?"

"DON'T PRENEND. WHERE IS CAMSHRON?"

He glanced over Camshron, "Not with me."

"You are a CIA officer and you are interfering investigations."

"Sorry sir but he is not with me."

"Where did you leave him?"

"Sir, just hold for an hour, you will find the tru-"

"SHUT UP!"

Camshron pulled his mobile and said, "Nathan Camshron speaking here."

"So there you are, a prisoner on the run. Tell us where you are. Don’t make us find you."

"I am having tea with the President, would you like to talk with him?"

Mr. Fernsby said in the angriest tone, "Shut up, you, idiot. Quiet. We can settle all these matters right here if you come. Don’t make us and other people suppose that a CIA staff has got involvement in such crime."

"My plan is still working."

"I am asking you nicely, where the hell are you?"

"In White House having tea with President."

"Go to hell."

Camshron hung the call even though he knew Mr. Fernsby was about to speak something.

"Stop looking at my gun, Nathan." Les sighed, "You are not getting this."

Camshron nodded.

Leaving his friend behind, Camshron disappeared in the darkness.