Novel & Cerita The Underground Railroad

We couldn't stay on the main roads because the police were likely setting up checkpoints at every major intersection, so Lucien turned into a nondescript parking garage that looked like it belonged to a shopping mall but actually led down to a heavy steel gate guarded by two men in suits. This was the entrance to the "Underground," a massive basement network where the rules of the surface didn't apply and where criminals could trade in anything from stolen masterpieces to illegal hardware without being bothered by the authorities. We stepped out of the van and the air was warmer down here but it was thick with the smell of expensive tobacco and expensive electronics, and I saw rows of stalls

Everything in the room felt suspended, neither alive nor dead, just waiting. Adrian gestured for me to sit. “What’s wrong?” Instead of answering, I reached into my purse and placed the flash drive on the table between us with a soft click. “Is there such a thing as an underground network,” I asked slowly, “where assassins take contracts?” His brows shot up. “That’s… a very specific question.” “Just answer me,” I murmured. “There is,” he finally admitted. “They call it The Circuit. It operates on the dark web. Private contracts. Hit jobs. Assassinations. The worst kind of people frequent it. But access is difficult, only a handful of fixers and coders can even reach it.”

Richard Kane would be no different. They walked down the narrow corridor, the echoes of their boots reverberating through the underground complex. Their hideout was located in an abandoned industrial area, a relic from the days when this part of the city had been teeming with factories. Now, it was a graveyard of rusting metal and crumbling concrete, the perfect place for operations like theirs.

It wasn’t phrased as a command. But it was. I didn’t move. “Why?” “Because you’re now central.” “To what?” “To the rewrite.” The woman grabbed my arm again. “You don’t know where that corridor goes.” “Yes, I do,” the newcomer replied calmly. “Underground transit.” Her eyes widened. “That system was decommissioned.” “Publicly.” The hum beneath our feet intensified. Rail. Magnetic. Movement. This wasn’t improvisation. This was infrastructure. Hidden beneath a warehouse no one noticed.

” I can’t help but cock my head again as even werewolves are taught about American history. “The best way that I can describe operation underground is that it’s a hybrid between the Underground Railroad and the Witness Protection Program. While I cannot tell you everyone that is involved, you already know that Alex and now, I are both involved. When you make your run you will start with him at the White Moon pack where you will be given a new identity. Considering the majority of wolves that run are omegas and treated as the pack slaves, it is anticipated by every alpha that gets involved in the underground movement of fleeing wolves that they will not have an

~ Trans Rail was a hidden breakthrough. Spanning across the Atlantic Ocean, it connected the continents via an underwater rail line. Only the vampires and their human families knew about it. Just as they were the only ones who knew about the sub-level rail lines that ran beneath the ordinary rails in the city.

“Someone controls this undead, right? Beria asked. -Right. And he can't be too far away. Most likely somewhere underground. “I know of only one place where he can hide,” Berii said gloomily. They both knew. In the east, there is a whole network of underground caves connected by natural corridors and grottoes. Previously, one of them was a copper mine, now abandoned. It was forbidden to go there, but for children, any forbidden fruit is sweet. So secret sorties were often arranged there.

The night crept in like black soot enveloping Neophile City, but inside the underground infiltration path located dozens of meters beneath the Wilder hills, the air felt cold and smelled of iron. The path was a network of old concrete tunnels left behind by the old faction—a secret route unmapped on any digital device. This was where Zean Wilder moved, leading a dozen personnel from the central faction's elite team. Their footsteps were barely audible, muffled by tactical boots with thick rubber soles.

After plopping down in my chair, I motion toward the free chair that sits beside Blaine for Zane to take a seat. After he is seated, I pull out a blueprint of the jail and roll it out on my desk. "What’s this?" Zane asks, eyeing it. "It’s a layout of the jail," I explain. Unfortunately, there is no way to get her out of there legally given the fact that her father runs the whole place, so we are going to have to take this," I continue, pointing toward an underground tunnel system. "It was used back in the early nineteen hundreds for smuggling goods between packs but has been abandoned since."

The underground passage had become a graveyard. Not a graveyard of bodies. A graveyard of roads. Every tunnel looked as though it had once led somewhere important, but decades of collapse, fire, and neglect had turned the underground network into a maze of broken concrete and rusted steel. The Council retrieval team had been moving for nearly two hours.