I Swear This Isn't a Hostage Situation.

[stovehead]

Duncan reclined in the sleek black van with his heels up on the dash, twiddling his thumbs. A Prairie Home Companion was playing on the radio because NPR was the only thing that broadcasted this far out of Plethora. The prison struck a striking silhouette on the horizon, and he glanced at it every so often. Soon it would be shrouded in shadow. Then it would almost be time for the fireworks.

On the seat next to him, a small blue-gray kitten curled up in his motorcycle helmet. She fit perfectly in the circular depression. He had to admit that the thing was fuckin' adorable. He just couldn't see why a kid like Ian would have a cute little kitty like that. Idly, Duncan reached over and gently scratched the fluffball behind the ears.

[Chess]

[[ Ian ]]

Ian carried a backpack tonight, filled with charges of explosives he worked up just for this occasions. Normally he would not take a job like this, but Duncan paid him well for a very easy job. He shouldered the backpack as he walked towards the prison, his head bowed to his feet as he walked. He trusted the man to watch his little girl while he was gone. If Ian returned to something wrong with that cat, Duncan would find himself with a stomach full of black cats. Oh, wouldn't those create quite a show when they went off.

Ian grimaced slightly under the respirator as he thought about that image and shook it off as he neared the guard house that controlled the electric fence around the perimeter of the prison. He slipped into the small building and managed to knock the guard unconscious. He dragged the guard out and hid him behind some bushes, then switched the electric fence off and put an "out for coffee" sign on the door. With a small snort, Ian opened the gate into the inner grounds of the prison and closed it behind him. He walked into the grounds and, dodging into the shadows to avoid guards, set two charges on opposite ends of the grounds. The final he placed where he estimated the cell he wanted was and, setting the charge, he moved back to a safe distance from the explosion. He crouched and waited for Duncan to give the command for them to go off over the walkie talkie.

[[ Alois ]]

Alois sat on the bench next to the window closest to the cell neighboring him. His back was to the wall and he was facing away from the window, but his voice carried through easily enough. He spoke in a calm voice, one that was not hard on the ears. He had no accent that could be identified, though someone somewhere likely would have heard some form of an accent. He had spent his time in prison working on growing his hair out a little: he hated the buzz that the military gave them. Luckily, his hair grew pretty quickly. He likely would not allow it to get much longer than it was now, unless it was needed.

Alois held no love for his cellmate. Some man that got in from some gang activity (heh, that's not all that serious). He was sarcastic and quite snarky. Alois grew tired of the man quite quickly. He spoke something of his gang's new second in command being a woman and nothing at all like the old guy - obviously for the worst. He never stopped whining about it and how she was cruel to the men. Alois once pointed out that perhaps he should man up and perhaps start listening to her instead of defying her... But the man simply spat and cursed at him. Alois shrugged it off and took up to talking to the female prisoner in the neighboring cell.

He had learned that her name was Regola, but nothing much else. He had not been talking to her too terribly long, but he knew a tiny bit about her life before prison... Or the lens that she told it under. He was speaking to her now, ignoring the looks of his cellmate. "So, Regola, why are you in here? How long have you been here?"[/color] Alois rested with his head against the wall, his eyes closed, thumbs twiddling. He yawned and looked half asleep after his yawn.

[Inquisitor]

Regola lay face down on her bunk, cradling her left cheek in the less than plump prison grade pillow. She faced towards the right wall of her cell, the side near a talkative man. At first she genuinely did not hear him talking; she was lost in the tangles of her deepest thoughts. A waking dream, as she had come to call it. On the third or forth attempt by the talkative man, Regola relented and responded with the minimum required by courtesy. That is, her name, and where she was from before this. But the man on the other side that claimed to be “Alois” wanted to continue the conversation, so she let it go on . What else is there to do in here anyways? All she had was time. Three lifetimes of time.

“Why am I here? Most that discover this terrible truth end up regretting they were ever curious. But, you do not seem to be as weak willed as those men.” Regola paused a moment to allow Alois to renege on his inquiry, then continued speaking when he remained silent. “Ever since I can remember, fire has captured all of my interest. Burning things is all I have ever found that makes me happy. That, and killing people. I started by doing simple murders, using just a kitchen knife. But after a few of these mundane homicides, I decided to combine my hobbies. I got all of my pleasures at the same time. I burned more than 15 people before they caught up to me. And so here I am. The attorney that defended me got me three life sentences instead of the chair. I never have been one to regret my choices in life, and have accepted that it is likely this will be where I die.”

[stovehead]

Duncan

Duncan checked the radio's clock. 6:25. T-minus five minutes to kaboom time. He was bored out of his fucking mind, and now there was a tiny ball of fluff curled under and slightly around his neck. The purring cat was perched directly atop his adam's apple and his chin rested gently on her torso. He dug into his pocket for the walkie talkie that was part of his grand scheme.

MEANWHILE...

[/u][/color][/center]

Officer Jenkins plodded down the hallway with the food cart. The inmates yelled and rattled their doors as he walked by, like so many predators crammed into so many cages. Jenkins was a man who truly hated his job. Which was why he had sold out to the criminal underground of Plethora in the first place.

He stopped by the decided upon cell and slid two plates of food into the tray in the door. He checked briefly to make sure the note was still attached to the bottom of the tray and slid it inside.

[Chess]

[[ Alois ]]

Alois listened quietly to Regola tell him why she was there. He was quiet for a little while after he received the answer. He did not regret asking her the question, though the answer was not what he was expecting. He was starting to drift off into sleep, almost forgetting to answer. He shook his head a little when he caught himself nodding off and spoke with a yawn. "Huh. That's too bad. I suppose we'll end up 'friends'. I won't be getting out of here, either."[/color] He watched his cellmate as he read a note that had been slipped into the cell. Alois got up so he was crouching on his seat, watching the cellmate closely. His voice came out slightly different this time, a certain anticipation to his voice. He could hear his cellmate muttering...

Look under your pillow for a surprise - D.

P.S. It's not prison rape, I swear.

"I have a feeling, though, we may not be stuck in here forever, though, Regola."[/color] His cellmate had looked under his pillow to find a gun and a walkie talkie. He was speaking to whoever was on the other end of the walkie talkie while Alois snuck up behind him. Alois snatched the gun and cocked it as he pointed it at his cellmate, backing away, speaking coldly. "Who is it? What do they want?"[/color] His cellmate snidely remarked that it was his gang leader, here to bust him out. His cellmate backed up to Alois and pushed him back, telling him to shut up and stay away from the wall. Alois called out to Regola. "Regola? Sounds like someone's breaking us out. My cellmate here says that the explosion might affect other cells. Stay away from the back wall."[/color] Alois put the gun to the man's head, threatening him should he be lying.

Alois heard two other explosions, then the wall to his and Regola's cells had a huge hole in them. Alois said nothing as he grabbed his cellmate roughly by the arm and headed out the hole to be faced by a strange boy wearing a respirator running off. Alois dragged his cellmate after the boy, running at full tilt to keep the boy in view. Something told Alois that this boy was their key out. He caught up to the boy and stopped where he was, then ran after him when he ran off. The guy ran faster than the devil sprayed with holy water. Alois followed him out of a broken part of the fencing and up to the highway, where a black van was. Alois approached the van with a gun pointed at his cellmates head, speaking coldly. "You will take me and any other escaped prisoners with you, or so help me I'll kill this member of your gang."[/color] When the man agreed, he got into the van with his cellmate and waited for any other escapees, then closed the van up.

[[ Ian ]]

Ian sat back as he waited for the command, leaning against what was once the electrified fence. His now empty backpack was still on his back as he waited. He stared down silently at the controls for each of the charges he had set, the walkie talkie on the ground next to his control box. Ian started to fidget, excited to watch the explosions and smell the fire and smoke. Ian heard the walkie talkie crackle and heard a conversation go on between Dunc and the man he was here to free. Ian pushed himself up so that he was standing and started to shake slightly.

Then he heard Duncan's command to make it go up in flames. Ian grinned under his respirator as he pressed the controls, staggering the explosions by half seconds. Once the smoke cleared a little, he saw two figures come out of the hole. He was surprised, but turned and started to run back towards the van. The figures would have to follow him if they wanted to find their way out. Their window of time was very small: the guards here had enough of a force to cover all of the explosions, it was just the time it took for them to get there.

Ian could already hear the sound of guards. He stopped and crouched in a place of deep shadow, hearing footsteps come to a stop behind him. Ian waited as a few guards ran past and for it to fall quiet. Once the coast was clear, he ran out towards the gate he came in and sprinted to the van, pausing before getting in to look back at the people he helped. He climbed into the passenger side of the van and reclaimed Makel, petting her under her chin. If Duncan and the others could see any of Ian's face, they would see a face filled with love and care for the kitten. Ian held the kitten towards his chest and relaxed in the van, resting one foot on the dashboard as they drove off. Duncan would drop Ian off in town near his home and he would walk home. What happened to the others he did not care about. He had a good sum of money in his pocket and the reassurance that his little girl was safe and sound.