Not for at least three miles in any direction. This was, after all, Colorado. Trees covered half the state. After the Christian Kane incident, Carver had become paranoid something like that might happen again. Even worse, Simon might try to send one of his own men into the game. With that fear in mind he had us build this holding cell in the middle of nowhere. A holding cell that had taken months to construct, multiple trips with very little equipment because all that fit through the trees were four-wheelers. Four-wheelers that we used every time we came out here, toward the sound of the generator that provided electricity for whoever was inside. Because if the mice were smart and brought another mouse back to their den, they wouldn’t bring it back to their real den until they were sure—one hundred percent certain—that the mouse was really a mouse and not a cat disguised as a mouse. But Carver, being ever so paranoid, didn’t stop there. He created a failsafe on the off chance a cat did manage to make it through to the mouse’s den.
