The door opened.

Marlon Smith glanced up as the agent entered.

"Here’s your water, Mr. Smith. And something from the vending machine."

Marlon opened the bottle and downed it in one shot. He had been waiting for hours for this interrogation to begin.

"So... state your name for the tape, please."

"Marlon Smith."

"Occupation?"

"Guard at Isle de Muertas."

"Let’s talk about the third of March. Tell me about your day."

"It was like any other shift. I started at five, with my colleague Fred Oliver. The flight radars were functional and didn’t register any unknown objects. The water around the Isle was calm-"

"One moment. Just for the record: Isle de Muertas is a high-security prison, off the coast, correct?"

"Yes."

"And you work in one of the guard towers, of which there are...?"

"Three. All facing the island. It’s in a cove."

"Do you ever get nervous? Watching over the most infamous criminals and mob bosses? Most people couldn’t stomach that."

"There’s a body of water between us and them. Deadly currents. We’ve got an air defense system that'll take down anything that flies too close, state-of-the-art sniper rifles, and - if I may say so myself - excellent aim."

A smirk flickered across Marlon’s face. The agent arched an eyebrow.

"Then tell me, Mr. Smith, where did Donny Capone go? Why is he not in his cell?"

"I... I don’t know. The visibility was perfect that day. Well, in the morning there was some drizzle and fog. But the sun came out. There was even a rainbow."

"Oh, a rainbow. How cute."

The agent’s voice dripped mockery before snapping back to professional tone. Marlon flushed.

"Let’s continue. When did you first notice Capone was gone?"

"During the evening headcount. He didn’t show."

"And the cameras in his cell?"

"They showed someone in bed. We later found out it was a pile of trash."

The agent didn’t blink.

"So, Mr. Smith. How exactly did a pile of trash crawl into the bed while you were watching the cameras?"

Marlon shifted in his seat. The agent’s stare was sharp, hungry. Someone must bleed for this, and Marlon looked delightfully vulnerable.

"The camera connection lags. They’re twenty years old. The software crashes sometimes and reboots. IT’s working on it, but replacing the whole system isn’t easy."

The agent leaned back, smiling smugly.

"Could someone, an inmate maybe, looking at the camera tell when it's rebooting? Actually - don’t answer that. Obviously, you don’t know. Which means Capone had plenty of five-minute windows to do jack shit."

The words hit hard. Marlon felt anger swelling in his chest.

"Excuse me, sir. Yes, the cameras are unreliable. But there was no radar activity. There’s no way to escape. What was he going to do? Fly? Swim? Build a damn bridge?"

The agent looked past him for a long moment, then down at his notes.

"Tell me about the rainbow again. Did anything seem... unusual?"

Marlon hesitated, searching his memory.

"Well... the coastal motion detectors went off, but that happens sometimes. Wildlife."

He paused.

"I also heard a whooshing sound. That’s what made me look up. It was... weird."

He prayed the agent wouldn’t ask why he hadn’t reacted earlier. The radio in his tower always played his favorite tunes.

The agent straightened, flipping through his notes, spinning his pen between his fingers. He stared at the table. Then he spoke, voice low and incredulous.

"I can’t believe I’m saying this, but there's no other explanation left. Could it have been the sound of a collapsible metal ladder rapidly extending, wrapped in a plastic tunnel to disguise it as a rainbow?"