BLACK INK SOCIETY {Sci-Fi Thriller} #Wattys2016

Part 11,3: Prison Break [3]

There he is, he thought while he stared at the third security guard who had all of a sudden appeared in front of him. Dante's stunned brain was unable to produce a reasonable response when his enemy pulled the trigger of his taser gun.

The metal pins dug into his stomach and a second later he was on the ground. Waves of sharp, voltaic pain flooded his body, as if he was getting caught in an electric fence with each click-click-click-click of the taser, he tried crawling away but his muscles wouldn't listen. FUCK. It wouldn't stop, he heard himself scream out, it felt like a fucking eternity-

-it stopped. Dante gasped for air, trying to process what was happening. Long grass blades blocked his field of vision. Then a plastic combat boot jabbed into his ribs.

He was flung to the side, his vision went dark and his guts felt like they were being knotted into a ball. He tried to drag himself to his feet, but his body hadn't figured out where up and down was quite yet. The guard landed another kick into his ribcage. Red lights exploded in front of his eyes as he lost it all, he instinctively curled up to protect his vital organs.

It didn't work out in his favour. The guard got a hold of his arm and placed a boot between his shoulder blades. Dante fought back with the desperate strength of a trapped animal; against the weight that seemed to be crushing his spine, but the struggle only resulted in his shoulder getting painfully twisted in the process and eventually a pair of handcuffs snapping closed around his wrists. Fuck fuck fuck. His mind couldn't have found more fitting words to describe the situation. The sudden realisation that he'd blown the mission. For all of them. No. He clenched his teeth, the feeling of weakness and powerlessness weighed heavier on his chest than the 190-pound-mass of the guard. Dante had fucked up.

"Intruder secured, I repeat. Intruder secured. Can I get some backup here?" The heavyweight security man snarled into his radio. Feeling so important, Dante thought, the smugness in his voice made him sick. The guard kneeled down and grabbed his hair, pulled his head back, "Too bad," he said mockingly, "What kind of foreign intelligence is so broke to send a fuckwit like you?"

Dante wanted to punch the bastard's face in more than anything. He wanted to kill all these little government suck-ups where they stood. He was so pathetic.

"Come on, don't be a killjoy man. Who sent you, huh?" The guard said, "We're going to find out soon enough. But that's not going to end well for you, promise."

"Are they paying you that well for talking bullshit?" Dante retorted.

"Cute accent. What's that. South London?"

"Fuck you."

"South London alright."

The guard shook his radio, "What is taking you that long, when I said backup I meant today. I don't want to drag this little shit back to basis all by my-"

Stopping mid-sentence, the guard fell over and collapsed, his full weight pinning Dante on the ground. The air was pressed from his lungs, he turned his head to the side and caught a glimpse of a very familiar dark trenchcoat.

"Irene?!"

"Change of plans," she hissed, in her hand the gun she had used to knock the guard unconscious.

"What do you mean?"

Irene pushed the crate into position. The gate opened a moment later and it fell into the chute, including Lupin's precious tools. Dante wondered how she always managed to stage such dramatic, last-minute rescues. Irene was the one and only Deus-Ex-Machina.

"They're trying to evacuate all prisoners. Lupin is trying to sneak into one of the vans, and we have to get him and Frye out of there somehow."

"Yeah, that's fine by me," Dante replied, "But could you give me a hand here, because it's cool if this fellow is comfortable with his body, but if he continues to tackle people for a living then he should probably work on his curves a little."

She sighed and pulled Dante out from under the guard's limp body, with some considerable effort. "How come that when I find you, you're always handcuffed?"

"Maybe I'm just kinky. Ouch, careful." He sat up, grimacing. "I think Big Dave might have cracked a rib or two. You were saying?"

"Save the whining for later," Irene said and threw him a bunch of keys, "You're driving."

The crate fell down through the shaft not a moment later than sceduled. Lupin hastily opened the lid and lifted his gear out of the box. The noise of the black sportsbag crashing onto the ground almost made him jump.

Lupin dragged the bag across the floor towards the pressure door. His heart was pumping loudly, he didn't have much time until the guards that Dante had (hopefully) distracted, came back home, or called the firefighters. Or something similar. He opened the bag and took out the selfmade pressure shifter, a heavy hydraulic device made of two metal pipes.

Lupin adjusted the ends and wanted to apply them, but at that very moment he heard the noise of pressure deploy. For a split second he froze, then he jumped to the side and squeezed against the wall. The door opened, heavy steel creaking under its own weight. Lupin held his breath, not moving a muscle.

"Gibbs, are you still there? Gibbs!" Someone shouted into a radio. The person in question sprinted up the stairs, obviously worried about his colleague. Seems Dante had to employ more radical means than just running away, Lupin thought. He drew a deep breath. If he'd opened the door, not knowing someone was still keeping track of the surveillance cameras... Let's not think about that. As soon as the guard had vanished, Lupin scurried into the control room.

Three high-definition glass screens showed the exterior of the facility, the supply room in which Lupin had stood just half a minute ago... he shuddered. How had the guard not seen him? God bless the short-sighted.

... and the cellar. A barely lighted hallway bordered by ceiling-high metal bars. Lupin found the switch saying "2nd basement". Assuming it would open the door he wished to walk through he flipped it; then reached into his pockets and brought fourth Irene's ULM-chip. He plugged it into the console. It was a simple screen-capture program, which would send whatever the surveillance screens displayed directly to Irene. As soon as he deactivated the jamming zone, that was. He placed a portable LTE router under the table. Now, how in the world could he turn off the jammers? All he saw was a couple of blinking buttons, and switches. Figure something out.

In the corner of his eye he saw a movement. The security guard had duplicated. He and his newly appeared colleague seemed to be fairly agitated about something - something Lupin suspected could be the fire he'd set to the roof. One of them picked up the phone on the wall and called someone. He had to be quick. Where is the button?  Lupin's eyes hurried up and down the console. Why had no one thought about labelling it?

The guard finished his phone call. No one had picked up, as it seemed.

They were going to come down.

Lupin didn't think anymore. He didn't have time to contemplate about the most elegant solution, so he just did what every impulsive burglar without the slightest knowledge of higher technology would do - he pulled the plug.

The screens went black. No more screen-capture for Irene, oh the raised eyebrow he'd have to live through. A loading screen was swirling to life on the surface of the LTE router.

connecting to satnet...

connecting to satnet...

"Come on," Lupin begged, "Don't leave me now..."

The guards were stepping down the stairs.

connected.

"Thank you!" He whispered, ripped out the ULM chip, slid around the hallway corner and closed the prison door behind him.