Disclaimer: I do not own Halo or any of the characters created by Bungie. However many aspects of my story are my creative work.

Prison Break

Bauer Maximum Security Prison

Northern Africa

October 21, 2552

The night was dark, not a star in the sky. The lights around Bauer Maximum Security Prison flashed brightly against the structure and its surroundings. Despite the harsh lights however, today was the ideal day of escape, if such a day existed at Bauer.

Detainee Jason E. Day accused and convicted of serial homicide was making his break. He had finally been caught along the boarders of northern Africa. What had fueled Day's savage onslaught was something unknown to him himself. Ever since he could remember he had been driven by some sort of powerful and persuasive insanity which had led him onto an objective. This journey however, had been cut short by his arrest. Day wasn't sure why but while on this journey, which had been so persuasively brought onto him; he found the need to kill any one who so much as stood in his way.

Despite the years of restrained isolation Day was still a physical behemoth. Standing 6'5 and 225 pounds of pure muscle day was one of the most dangerous men at Bauer, and his restrainers new this. Because of Day's unimaginable strength he was thrown captive in the lowest bowls of the prison, E level, a cold brimstone ridden chunk of quadrilaterally hollowed earth rock. Such a long deprivation of sunlight had given the man a ghostly pale appearance. To make the situation harder the door he lay captive behind was a four inch thick wall of steel, made excused as a door by its ability to slide open under electronic command. There was only one way out of his cell and even that was a long shot. A vertical angled ventilation shaft opened into his cell. To squeeze into it he had to rip the grill of the opening which fortunately for him seemed rather loose that day.

To Day's greater appreciation the ventilation pipe was nearly a foot wide, not a comfortable fit, but Day was used to that. Using all the strength his legs could muster Day leaped into the air. His legs had gotten a good enough push of the ground to bring his head and arms into the shaft. With a mighty thrust Day threw his elbows into opposite sides of the airway. The detainee's bones crushed through the thin sheet of metal giving him enough time to press his palms against the opposing sides and pull himself up. Once Day had climbed high enough to pull his legs within the airway the detainee continued in a spread eagle stance allowing him to traverse with effectively increased speed.

After a while of climbing Day could see the mouth of the pipe, to get there however he had to concentrate more. His arms were beginning to get tired and his palms were getting sweaty, forcing him to have to push harder against the surround walls. It was also important now to move stealthily, for any noise he made now would make quite a noise as it echoed through the shaft. As Day pressed on he felt the same familiar insanity rape his mind, the insane thirst to reach his destination, and the willingness to kill any who stood in his way.

----------

Officers Charlie Thompson and Eli Fernando approached the elevator to undergo their daily routines. Thompson was a tall man standing 6'2 with red blotched skin and strawberry blonde hair. Ferrando stood approximately 5'11 with tan skin and short brown curly hair.

Their job, as it usually was, was to proceed to E level and make a quick attendants and surveillance check, basically a risk free subroutine. However even as mundane the assignment was, Bauer had its protocols. Thompson and Ferrando were both handsomely equipped with high voltage inducing steel batons, a canister of impermanent Mace eye optical disorayance, a 9'mm military issue Mk3 Magnum, and a stub barreled semi-automatic 16 gauge shotgun. To top every thing off, security guards at Bauer like Thompson and Ferrando also wore military issue body armor (despite the heat resilient metals which the managers at Bauer had deemed an unnecessary waste of money since such alloy was used when coming in direct contact with plasma weaponry).

The pair approached the elevators. Thompson, being the one in front pressed the "open" command. The elevator, which had been in stand-by mode for the guards, parted its doors instantaneously. The pair stepped in the elevator and the doors in front of them slid shut. There was a muffled thud before they began their descent. "Weapons check?" barked Thompson who was Fernando's superior officer. Ferrando shuffled his belt around for a few seconds.

"Alls-a-go chief."

"Ready your primary weapon, safeties off, get tactical."

"Aye, sir." The elevator came to halt. Its doors slid open and a waft of cold air seeped into its confines. "Damn, it's cold down here," remarked Ferrando. Thompson replied with a subtle nod. The pair moved from cell to cell making their usual attendants and surveillance checks. All had gone well until they reached cell E 17, Detainee Jason E. Day, who after continuous knocking did not reply.

"You don't think he, you know…"

"Escaped? No. There no way he could have gotten past this bertha," remarked Thompson banging his knuckle against the cell door. Thompson's facial expressions hardened and he faced back towards the cell.

"Detainee Day, comply now this is your last warning," barked Thompson. Ferrando looked at Thompson and shrugged his shoulders. "Back up, I'll open the doors, any sign of hostility and your fire." Thompson reached for the access card around his neck. "I see no need to keep this scum alive," muttered Thompson under his breath.

Thompson neared himself to the access panel. "On my mark, 1…." Ferrando tensed his finger ready "…2…3, mark." The doors slid open at tremendous speed. Ferrando was about to fire when he pulled his finger away… there was nothing. "Shit."

Both Ferrando and Thompson moved into the cell. "God dammit," barked Thompson. Ferrando scanned the cell with his eyes.

"Their!" screamed Ferrando pointing at the fallen ventilation grill "He went up the shaft!" Both guards shot glances up the long airway.

"Fuck," spat Thompson, a man who was not very keen on rough cursing. "Ferrando get in touch with lookout teams let them no that…," Thompson's gaze turned from Ferrando to something that was visible over his left shoulder "Ferrando look out!" A sharp electrifying pain surged through the young officer's spine. The man began foaming from mouth, thick saliva cascading down his chin, and then … blackness.

"Jesus Christ." Before Thompson could bring his weapon to bare, a brass armored fist collided with his forehead. The senior officer's vision became engorged with a thick dark red before concluding in a pitch, unconscious black.

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"Targets down," announced Black Op 04, Thomas Reilly, over a secure channel. "Did you jam the COM link?"

"No need 04. What's the status on the neutralized targets?"

"Subject one… fast pulse, but its stabilizing. Subject two, a severe skull fracture and possible internal bleeding, vital status is…" Reilly knelt down and placed his index finger on the incapacitated officer's neck. "Pulse reading is… nothing. Stand by, readying CPR maneuvers cross checking…"

"Stand down 04," ordered Sergeant Nealey, 01. "We can't risk a saliva trace or any other forensic evidence. Apply two milligrams of epinephrine and move out."

"Roger sir." The Black Op applied the injection. "Heart rate re-stabilizing, breathing is steady. Sir, there's internal bleeding, stand-by, readying bio-foam injections." 04 danced his hands across his belt, adjusting the nozzles and other such essentials, however he was cut short.

"04, there's no time, the Prison medics will take care of him, you've done your best."

Reilly sighed as he placed the tazer and the needle back in his equipment pouch. O4 took one last respectful glimpse at the officer that he might have very possibly killed, and then hesitantly proceeded. Aligning himself with the ventilation pipe, Reilly kicked from the ground. Accomplishing just enough height, the Black Op slammed his response, and traction combat glove palms against the airway walls around him. With all his strength the Black Op pulled himself up and began to traverse the airway with spider like speed and precision.

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He was not alone. Day could hear someone else coming up the pipe. But who? The guards at Bauer were tough and physically coordinated but not like this. Whoever was coming towards him was fast, flawless, almost inhuman.

Whoever it was, he assumed they weren't on his side. Day now, with reckless abandonment slammed against the walls of his confinement pulling himself up at his best speed. Know one was going to ruin his escape. His journey would continue.

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Bauer Maximum Security Prison Command Room:

"Where the hell are Thompson and Ferrando?" questioned Chief Officer Garner.

"Cross checking archives sir," replied Surveillance Officer MacLeod. "Their," he announced "E level, surveillance and attendants check up, sir."

"Play back the last ten minutes, look for any irregularities."

"Roger Chief, however due to recent technical difficulties all surveillance cameras within personal cells have been removed, we only have cameras for the hallways." Coincidentally the cameras within personal cells had began to malfunction on that particular day.

"Acknowledged, play the tape."

"Yes sir, playing back last ten minutes." Garner, MacLeod and almost half of the other surveillance focused their gaze on the MacLeod's forward monitor. As they had been watching every thing had seemed normal. However once the pair had reached E 17, every thing seemed to fall apart."

"Play the tape forward thirty seconds."

"Forwarding thirty seconds." The tape flickered for a second before snapping back into picture. The cell door was now open and appeared to be empty. Muffled curses could be heard over the speakers which had surprised every one considering the fact that Thompson was a man of raw house hold ethnicity.

"Move in," said Thompson. The pair stepped into the cell at just the wrong time. Over the speakers MacLeod picked up the distinguishing sound of an elevator door parting open. "Listen," said MacLeod rewinding the tape about to frames. The same sound that MacLeod had heard came over the speakers once again. Garner and a few other officers craned their head forward in curiosity. "Keep watching," cautioned MacLeod. And then it came.

"Who the hell is that?" asked Garner as the unmistakable image of a man appeared in the screen headed straight towards the pair.

Everyone in the room now became uneasy. The tape continued to play. "Look out!" MacLeod heard Thompson scream. The unidentified subject pressed something against the back of Ferrando's neck. The younger officer jerked violently, saliva spewing form his mouth.

"Pause that frame," barked Garner who now seemed infuriated. The video feed came to a dead halt. "Focus in on the device in his hand." MacLeod clicked on the blurry object in the subject's hand. The words "Buffering Picture Enhancing" flashed on the screen for a second before revealing a clearer picture of the device. "It's… a tazer."

"Acknowledged, play the tape for thirty more seconds."

"Yes sir." The screen flashed for a second and the video continued. Officer Ferrando fell to the ground in a convulsive heap. "Jesus Christ," muttered Thompson trying to bring his weapon to bare… but to no avail. The unidentified subjects fist, which seemed covered in metal slammed into Thompson's forehead, emanating a distinguishable crack which caused some of the nearby officers to shudder.

"End the video, we seen all that we need to see." Garland turned to the one of the communications officers. "Raise the Prison alarms; tell watch-out towers we have an attempted escape in process. I want them to be on the lookout for, Subject; Detainee Jason E. Day. The other hostile is Beta Priority but is to be shot on site. Also I want a medical team dispatched to E deck for Officers Thompson and Ferrando. No one is getting out of this prison on my watch.

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By the time he reached the top he was gasping. The rush of cold air as apposed to the hot cramped quarters of the ventilation pipe was soothing. After years of confinement Day could almost swear to himself that freedom had a smell, and he enjoyed every sweet, sensational aroma of it.

Such luxuries were cut short however when a deafening screech emitted all around him. The shock he had encountered from the unearthly noise nearly sent him on his back. The noise repeated itself, this time in a rhythmic pattern, the alarm.

Day scrambled into ready position his eyes probing vigilantly at every angle. After of few seconds of conformation Day had created a sense of placement. The courtyard, which he had only seen on his way into the prison since such criminals like him weren't allowed out of their cells, was just around a separate group of structures. He would have to be careful though, there were bound to be snipers all over the prison rooftop and once he was out in the open there was nowhere to hide.

Day stared out to at the vast, outstretch of ground to the outer gate of the prison. The prison high beams filled the confines with the light of day. He would be seen, there was no doubt. It was the only way though, and it seemed as though luck was on his side that day. Day was ready, taking one last deep breath the man banished all fear, knowing that fear would only hide the truth, this was the only way. He prayed to God although in his he knew, God had forsaken him. Their was a slight moments hesitation, and then… he bolted

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Black Op Sergeant Miguel Nealey, 01, and Black Op James Maverand, 07 sat in concealed positions, their sniper rifles ready and the silencers attached. Black Op Reilly, 04, as reported in his most recent COM check-up had now, without incident, escaped the prison. Now their only priority was Day.

"Their," reported 07, bring up a digital NAV mark to the pairs HUD's.

"Copy that, fingers on your triggers." Nealey, rotating the sniper on its tripod, probed the rooftops of the Prison. "Target acquired." Nealey centered in on his target. The cross hair was aligned. The Black Op centered his aim, exhaled, and fired. The muffled shot was silent, but true. His target, one of the rooftop snipers, released his weapon and fell to the ground his hand cupped over his throat as he choked on his own blood.

"Target Acquired," announced Maverand. The sniper rifle kicked back, emanating its distinguished, sharp noise. The Black Ops centered in on their next victims, the hunters had become the hunted, and the new hunters were fast, deadly, and stealth.

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Day sprinted, his legs were like machines. He had not been shot down; oddly enough he hadn't even heard any shots fired. All he could hear was the heavy drumming of his heart.

He was a hundred meters from the wall and closing. "75," he thought "...65…55…45…35…25…15…10…5." Day collided with the fence, wasting no time he began climbing, gasping for air. The barb wire cut deep into his hands but he ignored the pain, pushing for the top. Day flipped his leg over the other side of the fence and fell ten feet onto the sand of the Sahara Desert. He continued to run, he was ready, ready to complete his journey and he would waste to time. Detainee Jason E. Day, convicted committer of Serial First Degree Homicide, an uncompleted life sentence with 16 years served at Bauer Maximum Security Prison was free, or so he thought.

To Be Continued…

You may ask what any of this had to do with Ackerson. You will see, trust me. Anyway, first chapter, much shorter and less descriptive than any of the others will be. I'll try to keep updates rather frequently. Oh, and trust me when I say this, you haven't seen he last of Jason Day or the Black Ops