04:00am,Tuesday. February 7th 2017, Bolingbroke Penitentiary.
Bolingbroke Penitentiary was alive with activity in the early hours of a brisk February Tuesday. The alarms were roaring out across the prison while the wail of police sirens rang out in the surrounding countryside. The whirling sounds of the searching helicopters with their spotlights frantically searching below could be heard even in the nearby town of Sandy Shores. It was surely going to be a dark day in Bolingbroke's already terrible history. There had been a prison break with at least four escapees known. But the number of escapees wasn't the problem. It was the who and the how they had escaped that had been the problem.
Twelve thousand feet above Bolingbroke Penitentiary.
In the sky within a jet black helicopter sat four men, all dressed in black balaclavas, black overalls and armed with silenced M4 assault rifles. They had been planning the events of the night for the past year. At their feet lay three bags with a change of clothes, weapons and explosives respectively. These were all men who were the best at what they could do and unwaveringly loyal to the men that they worked for. The pilot signalled that it was time to get to work. Three of the men grabbed a bag each as they let their weapons hand from their slings before attaching the bags to their back in a way that wouldn't block their parachutes. The fourth man opened the side doors as they all prepared to jump. At exactly two in the morning and on a visual count to three from the fourth, non bag carrying figure, they all jumped.
Gliding through the air the men got into formation as the lights below them cut off thanks to a well placed threat and bribe to one of the prison's maintenance staff. Reaching the minimum height possible to pull their parachutes to ensure survival, each of the men pulled the cord and sailed silently down to the roof below. Removing their parachutes and moving to the roof access door, they quietly opened it and slid inside.
The four figures quietly moved down the stairwell. Moving methodically and quickly towards their destination using the memorisation of the plans they had acquired before, they paced their way to the high security section of cell block C. Dispatching any of the correctional officers that got in their way, they made it to the control center. The second guy hit the control button for the heavy duty doors, unlocking and opening the heavy duty doors. Three men walked out of the cells without hesitation, paled by their imprisonment and lack of sunlight. The four figures dropped the bags on the ground and then turned to secure the entrance. The three men quickly changed clothes and grabbed weapons while one of the four figures placed explosive charges on the wall. The largest of the three escapees signalled to the figures to open the cell beside his own and to take the man inside with them. While he changed, the leader of the convicts checked the time on his new watch, he nodded his head as he saw it read 02:10 on the digital face of the watch.
After the newest member of the party had changed and armed himself the leader of the escapees signalled to the original four. The first man, who had the bag of clothes, hit the switch to open the cell doors in the section, releasing the rest of the prisoners. The second man, who had carried the bag of weapons, handed out small arms to the newly released prisoners and directed them to go back through the prison. And the third man, who had carried in and set out the explosives, pressed the button on the detonator in his hand which caused the charges to detonate which was immediately followed by the group rushing through the newly created hole immediately and out into the yard.
The original four moved as precise as a surgical knife, cutting a path for the four escapees towards the nearby motorpool. Behind them the sounds of gunfire and rioting rang out from the building they had just left as the prisoners within started fighting the guards. Coming up to the motor pool, they sprinted up to a large prison transport truck. The four prisoners piled into the back while two of the original four climbed into the front, meanwhile the other two of the original four climbed into a prison bus. Hitting the accelerator, the bus lead the way towards the front of the prison, smashing through the main gates to the panic of the officer leaning back on his chair within the entrance cabin.
The small convoy of vehicles barrelled across the highway towards the turbines of Ron's Alternative Windfarm. The leader of the convicts again checked his digital watch, smirking at the quick time they were making when it showed 02:30. After nearly crashing twice and causing a pile up on the highway the vehicles peeled off into two different paths with the bus heading north and the transport heading south. In the distance the escapees could all hear the sirens of the emergency services responding to the situation behind them. The transport pulled to a halt outside a shack with two motorcycles and an SUV parked outside.
Bolingbroke Penitentiary.
The clock on the wall read that it was five past three in the morning. The prison riot had finally stopped. Seven correctional officers and twenty four prisoners within Cell Block C were dead. Five NOOSE officers and two more correctional officers were dead within the yard. It had been a terrible day for the warden of Bolingbroke. Not only did he have multiple deaths but four of the prison's most notorious prisoners had escaped. This was going to cost him a lot.
Blaine County.
Dismounting the transport, all six men moved into the shack where there were five sets of plain clothes ready. The two of the original crew and the three original escapees all quickly changed clothes before throwing their weapons and black clothing into the transport. The explosives specialist of the four that had started the prison break threw the bag full of remaining explosives into the transport before mounting onto one of the motorbikes, with his remaining associate climbing onto the other, and driving off north to meet up with the rest of the original crew.
Meanwhile the four escapees all climbed into the SUV and peeled off south away from the cabin. As they went south they heard the explosion of the transport and the shack behind them, exploding into a large fireball. The fourth escapee checked the watch on his wrist, 02:40 it read. Just the right time when the streets were empty and they wouldn't come across any traffic on the way into the city.
The SUV came to a stop half way up the dirt track in the Tatavium Mountains leading to the Land Act Dam. The leader of the escapees motioned to his previous cellmate to get out of the car. The lone prisoner moved to the rolled down drivers window, taking the small card held out to him before stepping back and letting the SUV drive off. With a stretch and a yawn, he started south along the trail. He once again checked his watch, seeing that it had taken them five minutes to reach this part of the outskirts of the city from when they had left the cabin.
As he finally reached the dam, the lone prisoner let out a sigh of relief. Below him the shining metropolis of Los Santos sprawled out below. It had been five years since he had last seen his home and he was glad to see it. Making his way down the dirt track along the valley below the dam, he started his way back towards his old hideout. The watch on his wrist read 03:00, the perfect time to be moving along the streets as the vast majority of Los Santos' people would be sleeping.
Bolingbroke Penitentiary Warden's Office.
The warden and the group of agents had the information of the four escapees pinned up around the warden's office, combing over possible details that may help them continually.
The first of the escapees was Juan Rodriguez, a Hispanic crime figure that had risen from the lowly streets all the way into a position of power within the Galindo Cartel as the right hand man of the ever illusive capo of the Cartel known only as El Carnicero, the butcher in English, who was named due to his habits of leaving his enemies butchered and hung outside the homes of their families. Rodriguez was being held in Bolingbroke for the charges of drug smuggling, the sale of illegal narcotics, attempted murder of a law enforcement officer, the murder of both an undercover federal agent and his family and attempted robbery.
The second of the escapees was Delford Clay, an African-American lieutenant of the Bighorn Viceroys, the largest organised street gang within South Los Santos. He had cleverly built his way into the position of lieutenant through sabotaging his way through the ranks, causing people above him to slip up enough for their to be a space for him to fill. His crimes included extortion, burglary, documentation forgery, murder, drug dealing and attempted robbery.
While both of these escapees were bad news to be back on the streets it was the identities of the final two escapees that concerned the warden and the agents.
Bean Machine, Mirror Park.
The ex-convict walked through the backdoor of the Bean Machine within Mirror Park straight into the back room. Moving the rug out of the corner of the room, he opened up the small space underneath the trap door as he pulled out large duffel bag containing a black leather jacket, a t-shirt, a pair of jeans, a set of sneakers, a baseball cap, sunglasses and a small nine millimeter pistol. Quickly changing from the black clothing he used in the escape, he stuffed the bag back within the space before closing and covering up the hatch. The clock on the wall read half past three, it was lucky for the escapees that it had all happened during the night, it made not being spotted vastly easier than if it had occurred even a few hours later.
Looking into the mirror within the back room, he picked up a set of scissors and cut his long, flowing black hair into a much shorter and manageable style. He had been unable to cut his hair except once every six months where he was strapped down to a chair and given a full haircut. He was given such precautions in prison as he was categorised as a dangerous prisoner who should not be able to move near objects that could be used to harm others. After finishing with cutting away the ragged hair, he then cut his beard down short from the long length it had been before. Quickly cleaning up after himself he then pulled the cap over his face as he made his way out of the back door and to his next destination by foot.
Bolingbroke Penitentiary Warden's Office.
The warden was worried. The two most dangerous men within his prison were loose and no-one knew where they were. These men were the worst he had ever received in the prison and everyone was worried. The clock read ten minutes past four in the morning, the prisoners had been free for over an hour and a half. This concerned the warden greatly due to how far all of the escapees could be gone.
The third of the escapees was Leonardo Ambrosini, the Consigliere of the Garibaldi Crime Family. Leonardo was a clever one. Within the first week of him being behind bars the smuggling of contraband had risen exponentially. This was due to the incredible amount of connections that Leonardo had both on the inside and outside. Within two weeks he had secured the loyalty of the vast majority of the prison. The warden, and the Department of Corrections as a whole, had had to make a decision to isolate him along with the prison's most dangerous due to how full of contraband the prison had become since his arrival. Leonardo was placed in a cell beside the most dangerous of all of Bolingbroke's inmates and had, according to the guards, been heard quietly conversing with him through the drains that ran under each of the cells. Although no one had ever heard the other prisoner speak. Leonardo was in that prison due to being linked to multiple crimes that included extortion, racketeering, illegal gambling, grand theft, grand theft auto and murder, however the only one they could manage to make stick on him was tax related for changing the numbers that he received through the many businesses he owned throughout the United States including the Visage Casino, the V-Rock Hotel and it's attached Club Fuze in Las Venturas as well as Club Fuze LS.
The fourth and final escapee was the most dangerous of them all, his name was James Scamenti, a prisoner that had nothing special prior to his time incarcerated in Bolingbroke for assassinating the Governor of San Andreas in a large explosion on his boat. Scamenti had been found on a piece of the boat in the days afterwards with his face in a state that had required five plastic surgeons to undergo a lengthy reconstruction process on his face and body that had lasted over forty eight hours. By all rights he should have died that day but had survived and been rushed through the court system and placed in Bolingbroke within the cells within C Block. He had also been alleged to be part of a bank robbery in 2012 alongside three other masked, and still at large, accomplices. While the rest of his team had escaped by boat after a lengthy chase that started at the Pacific Standard Bank on Vinewood Boulevard and ended when the four of them had driven off a cliff and skydived into a waiting boat, three of them escaped while Scamenti had gotten his parachute caught in a tree and had become stuck before escaping. He had refused to give up his accomplices after being imprisoned and having his face and upper torso reconstructed majorly and instead had willingly taken his lengthy prison sentence. He had minimal contact with anyone outside the prison throughout his stay due to the security imposed on him and the reasons that had brought him there, with a couple of letters between family members and himself being all the contact to and from him. In summer 2013 he had been moved permanently into permanent isolation within secure C after multiple attempted stabbings of correctional officers and actual stabbings on other inmates as well as trying to incite a riot. After being kept under extreme isolation down in the secure access Scamenti had been the prison inmate that had the most precautions taken due to his sporadic and often random acts of violence towards others, he had also never been heard saying a single word since the move except for reports of guards occasionally saying they could hear a quiet singing and claims that he was communicating with Garibaldi in the cell next to him. Scamenti was a major concern now that he was free due to how much it was presumed he knew and his actions within solitary. Scamenti had also been one of the suspects
The warden did not know much about what he expected to come next from the escape besides the spike of crime that would come from the first three escapees and their related organisations, however he did know that Scamenti would be the most dangerous of the group due to his associates being unknown by anyone. No-one knew where or what Scamenti would be doing. He could be back to stealing cars, robbing liquor stores or killing old accomplices for all anybody knew.
Del Perro Heights Apartment 1.
James removed his hat as he knocked twice on the door of apartment 1 in Del Perro Heights. It had been a long time since he had been here and he was welcoming the thought of what lied inside. He saw the eye-hole of the door darken before a shout inside. The sound of locks clicking and bolts being drawn back into the door could be heard before it swung open. Just inside the door stood five faces he had remembered for the past five years of imprisonment as well as one new and unknown face that he had not seen before. The faces all stood with a look of shock and disbelief at the sight they saw before him. Then the large, clean shaven tower of a man beside the door took a step towards James and gave him an almost spine-breaking hug before releasing him and ushering him inside. Glancing around the room James noticed the time on the ticker of the news report playing on the television. It was half past four, he had been a free man for over two hours and he intended to stay that way.
"Long time no see, eh James? You're lookin' a bit different, did you do something with your hair?" declared the large Scottish accented friend who James remembered as William, "I'd have thought you'd have been across the border in Mexico by now like a smart man."
"Couldn't leave behind this city, besides Mexico isn't my sort of place and there ain't nothing south of the border for me," James replied with a smirk before walking into the apartment more. The television that he had relaxed in front of so many times was playing a news story about the escape that had just happened with the mugshots of himself and the three other escapees plastered across the right hand side of the screen. "Not too flattering of a picture, is it?" James chuckled. The rest of the group chuckled along with him.
It had been a long time James thought to himself, he recognised all of his old friends and colleagues in crime. William O'Donovan (the Scottish, blond haired, bearded and heavily muscular friend who had always been the muscle of the crew,) Cassidy Barrett (the red haired, athletically built Irish member of the crew who was brilliant at sourcing the getaway vehicles that they required as well as being James' girlfriend,) Dominic Blake (the black haired, tanned crew member who had always managed to obtain the necessary equipment for every job they pulled,) Frank Williams (the short, balding brains of the crew who planned the jobs they pulled to perfection with the only flaws coming from field mistakes such as the one that had almost landed James in prison) and last of all was a new face that James did not know. The new face moved towards James and held out a hand towards him, as James shook the hand the new face spoke.
"Name's Steve Thompson, I presume from the mugshot on the television and the comments that you're James. Pleasure meeting you, I've heard so much about you from these few, they wouldn't stop talking about you and comparing to your standards in fact, they hold you in very high regard. I've been covering for you these past years, hopefully we can work together in these coming months and years," the stranger who claimed his name was Steve exclaimed with a large amount of excitement noticeable underneath his heavy Chicago accent.
"Pleasure to meet you too Steve," James replied as he shook Steve's hand, "I imagine we'll become well acquainted in these coming months and years."
Cassidy ran up next to James, wrapping her arms tightly around him with a wide smile across her face.
"Why t'fuck didn't ya tell me ya were gettin' out early James. I woulda picked ya up from the place myself. I've missed ya so much," Cassidy exclaimed as she held James in a tight hug.
"If I knew I was getting out before it happened, I would have told you, it was a surprise for me too. One moment I was sleeping in my cell, next I know there's movement outside, voices saying to open my cell and I'm being broken out alongside some others," James replied as he held Cassidy close to himself, "I missed you so much."
Untangling himself from Cassidy, James finished getting reacquainted with the rest of his old friends.
"So, how about some drinks?" James chuckled as he took a seat on the couch. James smirked as he changed through the channels, all of them running footage about the escape attempt and showing a mugshot of him with long, uncut hair and a long, shaggy beard, looking like he had been castaway for many years. James and the rest of the crew drank and caught up before parting ways, each heading home while James and Cassidy climbed into bed and fell straight asleep.
Reviews, feedback and constructive criticism welcome. The structure of time in the story in this chapter won't be a constant. From Chapter 2 onwards I'll be focusing on a linear timeframe with the occasional flashback when required.