He led her quietly down the hall, the lights flickering overhead sporatically, casting deep shadows as they moved down the concrete hallway. He kept his shoulders square, his hands at his side, showing no outward sign of worry about having her following behind him, out of sight. He reached the first door, taking a left, opening one on the side of the hallway, rather than at the end. He said nothing to her as he opened it, another hallway. Another soldier down there trading salutes with the officer.
And he moved right along. The hallway was long, stretching on for a good 40 yards, the lights flickering less here, the walls dry and clean, with a coat of dull, dark green paint over the walls. Thick metal conduits ran along the ceiling, four on each side of the lights, with several branches off at each set of doors down this hallway. The Captain led her without word to a door about 10 yards down the hallway on his left. He opened it up slowly, stepping aside to let the Little Bird in first.
Inside was not a cell. At the very least, someone had set about to decorate it. Wallpaper designed to look like dark wood paneling, a chest of drawers, a normal, metal framed queen sized bed with a thick mattress upon it, heavy comforter, and two large pillows. The floor was carpeted in here, one lamp in the far corner of the small 15' x 15' room and a single hanging light was all the illumination present, both were shaded, no more naked bulbs.
"Welcome home, Little Bird."