"Do you hear that?" Scootaloo asked, pausing. Her ear was pressed directly against the small copper pipe whose path she was following.

Later stopped as well and leaned over, listening to the pipe. "Huh, I do hear something. It sounds like there's something... blowing through the pipe. Though that's kind of weird, 'cause I would've expected it to be, y'know, water."

"Let's keep going," Scootaloo said. "It looks like the ground slopes down here." She pointed to the corner with the sump pump, which indeed appeared to slope down sharply before turning out of sight.

"Ah, that must be where it goes to downstairs where they have the cells and holding rooms."

Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. "Why would the crawl space go down there? That wouldn't make any sense..."

Later shrugged, though it was barely noticeable with how far down she was crouched. "I'm not an architect or a plumber any more than you are. Maybe it helps for them to be able to access the pipes?"

Scootaloo didn't respond; she merely turned along with the pipes and began scooting her way towards the slope, standing up as the floor grew further away from the ceiling. As Later followed, she let out a breath of relief as she was able to stretch her legs.

Several minutes later...

"Can you see anything?" Later murmured, leaning over Scootaloo who was herself lying over a metal grate. Once the pair had rounded the corner and followed the tunnel, they realised that there were maintenance grates for each of the cells that looked down from above—placed low enough so that they could be used to climb down by maintenance workers, but high enough so that there was no way any of the ponies being held could use them to escape. Using this knowledge, they had sneaked around quietly to avoid being heard, looking down and seeing a variety of ponies held in cells. One by one they peered in, until they came to a cell with nopony in it. In addition, this cell was somewhat different—the walls and floor were lined with white bathroom tiles rather than the standard concrete, and a row of shower heads with drains in the floor to match lined each wall.

"Not yet," Scootaloo replied quietly, "but it's been a while. Why wouldn't they have brought him to a cell yet?"

"They probably took him for questioning first. That's what happened to me, at least."

"And how'd you get out of that one?" Scootaloo asked, still gazing down through the metal grate.

"Uhh... I dunno. Probably refused to talk and then waited until they gave up for the night. They were supposed to transfer me to the South Pen in the morning for, uh, 'enhanced interrogation methods', but they never got that far 'cause the boys had already broken me out of here by then."

"Huh. I'd say you're lucky tha—oh!"

"What is it?" Later murmured.

"Shut up!" Scootaloo hissed. "Somepony's coming!" Both of them scrambled backwards against the wall, pressing towards it to maximise how much they could see while remaining only visible to somepony looking for them.

There was the sound of hoofsteps and then metal rattling of keys before a door, out of sight, clicked open. The hoofsteps continued, reverberating off the tile walls, as the distinctive form of a maroon-coated pegasus was shoved forward, nearly tripping over his hooves as he stumbled to a halt. Groaning, Clove Hitch turned to face the direction of the door.

"You're going to be staying here for the rest of the night as we wait for a response from the higher-ups, sir," a gruff voice that remained out of view said.

Clove Hitch blinked. "Do I get... a bed? Food? Anything?"

The voice cleared its throat. "This is still under discussion. I will let you know of any further information we receive." It paused. "Though, honestly, I wouldn't count your blessings."

Clove Hitch looked down at the floor and sighed. "Whatever."

There was a rattle of the door and then hoofsteps which receded, eventually disappearing somewhere behind Scootaloo and Later.

"Do you think it's safe to talk to him?" Later whispered, looking down at the downtrodden form of her teammate. "I bet we can get down there, and then maybe we can make our escape."

"I'm not so sure..." Scootaloo murmured, also looking down. "You know they probably have cameras and all that—there's no way they won't know if we go down there."

"Who cares if they know?" Later whispered, a little too loudly. "We just gotta get him and get outta here, Scoots."

Scootaloo sighed. "Maybe you're right, but that really make it easier for us to get caught. And then we'll just be back at square one."

Before Even Later could reply, both she and Scootaloo noticed that there was a small rumbling above them. Both of them turned, coming face to face with the shiny copper pipe that they had followed down there. And, as it so happens, that copper pipe led down before disappearing into the wall. Inside of the small metal tube, a burst of air hissed by.

And then, in just a few moments, it wasn't just the pipe. They watched as Clove Hitch started to notice the sound, looking around wildly in the hopes of figuring out what it was. Then...

Out from the showerheads, all at the same time, burst large gaseous clouds of grey... something. Like a violent stream of water, it filled the room quickly, its thickness soon blocking Clove Hitch from view. Later pulled Scootaloo back as the tufts grew dangerously close to the grate at the top; however, somehow, the gas seemed to stop just short of coming up there.

What really made a pit in Scootaloo's stomach drop was the loud, unmistakeable thump that she didn't even have to see to know was Clove Hitch's immobile form hitting the tile floor.

And, as she held Scootaloo tight, Even Later shook.