Escape

I'm one of those that can't wait until March, so here is my version of what would happen. Tell me if you like it and if I should continue…

I apologize for the typos and syntax errors that you could find; I'm not English speaking person.

Typical declaration: I don't own any of the characters, story, and series of Prison Break. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others. (At last that is what I hope).

Escape I

The pipe had been replaced. Once again Michael's infallible plans collapsed against the awful reality. His fake calm attitude broke and desperation covered his face. He couldn't force the conduit. They even couldn't move it one inch. Suddenly his desperation became resignation, "it can't be done… it's too thick, I'm so sorry." Scofield allowed himself to fall in the corner. Why did the things have to complicate in such way? Perspiring resignedly he confessed, "We're not getting out of here."

His words whipped T-bag's ears. An angry cutter slipped out oft his boot. "Unfortunately pretty, it ain't an option." He was desperate. Miraculously he had been able to avoid the reprisal of Abruzzi's people. He wondered if the authority problem of the mafia's boss was the reason for their inaction. They had beaten him and had left him alone with Abruzzi. It wasn't necessary to be a genius to realize who had beheaded him. Theodore could not take another risk, his luck could not last much longer.

Michael gaze couldn't detach off the hand that held the rustic weapon. He tilted his head observing the irregular border.

T-bag stepped ahead but Sucre grabbed his wrist twisting his arm as C-Note caught him from behind passing an arm around his neck. The aggressive man was immobilized but furious.

In slow motion Michael rose from his seat and took carefully the rustic cutter. He had seen those weapons before, Fernando had one. He spun it watching its depth. Sucre raised a brow, he knew that look, something was cooking inside his cellmate's brain.

Without a word Michael stepped back and bent over to seize a torch. He shook it hearing the liquid inside, then his smile grew wide. Every one looked at him expectant. "Give me the knives…" he commanded. Sucre and C-Note hesitated but, as T-bag promised to behave, the two inmates took out theirs cutters. "Please Charles reach me the tube." The old man did it quickly. "The pipe is recently settled. We can't move it but we can unbind the rivets." He explained inserting the three knives in the tube tip, the blades were superimposed one to another. When the device was built he leaned its tips on the iron circle asking to Fernando and C-Note to hold it right there. "You must push hard while I make the torch soften the rivet so it loosens its grip and fells down." He looked for a box, emptied it and gave it to Westmoreland. "The rivet will jump, so you have to catch it with this box, it will muffle the noise."

"What will I do?" T-bag asked eagerly.

Mike sighed. "You should hold the pipe. Don't let it fall."

The task wasn't easy. They were late and it took them more than two and half hour to remove four rivets. They were working on the last one when the door latch began to move. They froze.

The guard's silhouette was drawn behind the door glass…