Phantom Being had been glued to his television set.

After weeks, he had found something worth taking his time for.

For some reason he was finding humor very amusing.

Occasionally, the actors would managed to get a decent laugh at him.

Phantom Being considered Spanish character to the funniest one.

When the show ended, then he planted the cigarette on ashtray and went on to light another one.

After puffing mouthful of smoke out, he noticed a paper parchment which had just slid towards him from underneath the door.

He dropped the cigarette on ashtray again and moved the curtain to see a kid running away from his house.

Phantom Being got off his couch and picked the paper.

The paper read: COPS MIGHT COME THERE ANYTIME. LEAVE THE HOUSE RIGHT NOW. AND BURN THIS NOTE.

But Phantom Being had much more things to do than run.

He couldn’t leave the house without erasing hints about him.

And speaking of hints, he had them everywhere.

How did they get to here? Phantom Being began filling the collection of his guns inside a bag.

When he hoisted the heavy sack on his shoulder, then the bag strap gave up and his guns clattered on the floor.

"Fuck!" he cursed himself.

It was when Phantom Being realized he had to leave his well-established rule just for the sake of saving himself.

Les and some SWAT Officers were storming towards the location few blocks away.

The GPS showed they were less than two minutes' distance away from where Phantom Being was right now.

"What should we do?" a cop asked, "Do we shoot him on sight or arrest him?"

"Your weak memory wants me to piss in your ears." Les barked at the cop, "Don’t tell me you forgot the protocol."

"I remember, sir."

"Then don’t act like a dickhead."

Les' radio beeped.

"Is the area sealed?" asked Les to the cops on the other end.

"Yes." said the cop. "Our team is also heading towards the location. But we think you will be there before us."

Inside the house, Phantom Being began pulling the drawers.

He was searching for his driving license, citizenship and other documents.

Not in any condition, he could afford to leave any of his personal documents in the house which was soon going to be raided by cops.

Phantom Being somehow found all his documents.

He even got time to count them.

And when he got sure then he picked the car key and ran outside.

I will make it far before they break in here. Phantom Being turned the key.

When the car turned on, he realized what a mistake he had done.

He had left the note inside the house.

Phantom Being rushed inside the house and began searching for the lighter.

It was not on his sofa.

Where is it? Phantom Being was going out of his mind.

Kneeling, he discovered the lighter under the table where the ashtray was kept.

"Okay." He said and pulled out his mobile phone.

He disassembled his mobile phone, then slid out his SIM card.

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Phantom Being was sure they had been tracing him through his SIM card.

But he had little to worry. It belonged to someone who didn’t even exist.

Phantom Being wrapped the SIM card inside the paper and burned them together.

Yet there were things to be done.

About his fingerprints.

Phantom Being picked up the jar of water and began spilling water everywhere in the room to erase his fingerprints.

He didn’t leave any place left.

When the SIM card melted completely, then he ran for his car.

From inside, he could hear vehicles roaring in his direction.

Phantom Being sped up his car with his eyes fixed at his side mirror.

He took a deep breath when he took a turn.

Les and other SWAT officers ran inside the wet room just to find everything messed up.

They walked on water to see various types of guns on the floor along with a torn bag.

"We have lost him." Les spoke on his radio.

_

FEW NIGHTS LATER,

12:30AM,

A six feet tall man was sitting on his bed making no noise.

The tall man was following prison rules- food thrice a day, no discussions with the warden and no lights after nine. The room was uncomfortable enough for him.

He could not believe he had been given such a good cell.

The tall man, Nathan Camshron, looked at the bars in front of him and the passage through it. Those iron bars were hard beyond imagination.

Because MPD was not a jail, security is tight as a high class police station but jail facility was a basic one.

But no one had ever escaped from there.

Camshron knew that the next day he was going to be shifted to Ross County Prison and after a few days, he was going to be sued by his own officers.

The most important-devastating thing was the investigation.

It was paused and he couldn’t wait until it gets resumed. He had already provided enough clues to CIA.

It was enough to find out Bob's identity, but it could be late. What he had planned now had started backfiring himself.

Of course Bob was a genius who knew how to trap someone with the small matters using coincidence or making coincidence. And now Camshron could bet a million on Bob being the luckiest criminal he had ever seen.

As per his plan, he wanted to show Norton as culprit so Bob mould make an excited step which could take him to where Camshron was now. But Bob plotting against Norton had made an impact on his plan. He didn’t know if backfiring of his own plan was as per Bob's thought or it was just a coincident.

Camshron was the only one on earth who could presume the steps of Bob but for the situation, he was in a place where he shouldn’t be. Once Camshron was shifted to Ross County, then escaping would be even impossible in dreams. Everyone is not brilliant as John Parsons who even had escaped from there.

Camshron was well aware he would not be given big punishments like life sentence or decade long prison time, but he expected three to four years of sentence in a minimum security prison.

More than years behind bars, he feared loss of self esteem.

This was the one and only moment to do something. An innocent life mattered more than anything.