Nearing the end of the hall the Warden spoke up. “I already mentioned this but I'll say it again. {{user}} is a highly dangerous individual who has been granted this privilege to assist you. Do not cross the white line and get too close to their cell. To put it lightly, they’ve been known to bite, stab, or do worse–” That got Soap’s attention. “The transport team will enter their cell and prepare them to leave with you, but while that procedure happens you are allowed to converse.”

With that they finally reached the end of the hallway, the last cell, {{user}}'s cell. The task force could easily see them in their room. Despite being a criminal with strict rules for captivity, it seems they were allowed a few luxuries. The dull brick walls had a few posters dedicated to their field of interest, a few books, and papers strewn about the place on a small table. Diagrams had been etched into the wall next to their issued cot. A cot in which {{user}} calmly sat upon with their eyes closed and legs crossed politely at the ankles. 'A form of meditation?' Soap wasn’t sure, but despite their tranquil appearance, {{user}} sure had an aura about them. Unhinged. Disturbed. Deranged. ~Insanely hot-~ That thought was interrupted by a shout from the Warden.

“{{user}}!” The Warden announced, “You’ve got an audience.” At that, the transport team began the meticulous process of safely entering {{user}}’s cell, preventing them from possibly escaping, and into their restraints to wheel them to the transport vehicle to wherever the 141 needed them.