A/N: Sorry the chapter's so short. It's just a quick summary of Hunter's escape.


A few minutes earlier,
Providence Holding Cell 7

If Hunter had had any hair on his smooth-shaven head, he would definitely be tearing it out. As things stood, he would have cheerily settled for the next best thing: ripping out his block mate's hair. Unfortunately, he was currently unable to satiate either of his bloodthirsty urges, and so he had to resort to menacing whispers.

"What do you mean, you can't open the door? I just told you the key, so punch it in!"

"But I can't see the keypad! What happens if I punch in a wrong code?"

"If you do that, an alarm trips, the guards come running, the escape attempt is foiled and we get to rot in this paradise until a court decides to sentence us to life in prison with no parole on the charges of attempted murder and vandalism, so get moving and don't screw up!"

"You take things too seriously, has anyone ever told you that? Lighten up! Tell you what, –"

"No, I'll tell you what – open the door now!"

"Don't you think we should take some time to savor this moment? You know, taste the impending freedom, glory in the approaching liberty, and luxuriate in the –"

"If you don't type the code in soon, there will be no 'impending freedom', there'll be 'impending visit to maximum security cells!' with an approaching firing squad to glory in, so hurry up!" Hunter was getting on edge.

"But don't you feel the electricity in the air? This is a big moment! Why, it could be –"

Hunter nearly put his head between his hands and wept. He pulled himself together only by reminding himself of how close to liberty they already were, and how he would not ruin this plan by losing his temper. After all, it was pretty much a stroke of genius getting this fool to distract the guards so he (Hunter) could surreptitiously spy the code out, but in fairness the guards were absolute blockheads. Now all he had to do was get his "partner" (Gatlocke had insisted upon the title. Well, actually he had wanted to be called "Super-Exalted Kicker of Side", but he'd settled for "partner" after some discussion) to punch in the accursed code.

"Two…eight…five…is the seven on the left side or the right side of the keypad?"

"Left side."

"My left or your left? Oh well, here goes nothing…"

"No, no! That's the right! The other side! The other side!" Hunter hissed in a mild panic.

"Oh, you don't say? Well then, here we go…"

Gatlocke punched the final number in at last, and all the cell doors in the block swung open noisily. Cain immediately stepped out of his cell – free at last. He moved swiftly to the door and stood quietly by the side, ready to disable anyone who might have heard the noise and come in.

When no one came running, he let his breath out a bit. Maybe we might actually get out of this place undetected if everyone stays partying and the guards keep slacking off. Now we'd best get out of here before this Doctor comes a-calling and finds her patients have vanished.

The first order of business, of course, was to grab some weapons. The duo slunk towards the prison lockup, padding silently along the brightly lit corridors. When they arrived, Hunter typed in the access code, smiling to himself when the door swung open.


The prison lockup: home to all the goodies Hunter had had on him when he was caught, as well as several left over from previous sojourners in the cells. The place was loaded with grenades, flash bombs, ammunition, exploding shells and even a few packages of C4. Just the equipment a bunch of escaping prisoners needed.

He quickly grabbed his cannon, picking up the bullets as Gatlocke darted to his confiscated prosthetic arm – complete with laser beams and sliding blades. Hunter also took his bag of surprises, as well as several Providence rifles lying in the lockup. It was a lot easier to sweet talk a guard into getting out of the way if you had a rifle jammed under his chin and a hulking, 16mm gun slung across your back.

Of course, Hunter thought to himself as Gatlocke fenced with his shadow, it rather detracts from a person's fearsome image when your partner is a gibbering idiot. Hunter smirked to himself as he watched Gatlocke trip over his flowing cape. Now we just need to get out of this hell hole. With that thought in mind, Hunter walked towards the nearest port.

He listened at the door for a good thirty seconds, focusing on any vibrations coming through the metal. Once he was certain that there were no footsteps or irregular blur of conversation, he entered the code. Cannon at the ready, he opened the door and stepped through with Gatlocke right behind him…

xxXxx


A/N - Again, I'm sorry for the small update, but this chapter was short and necessary, so I decided to post it immediately after my other one. Next time: back to Agent Six in the field, and some of our favorite crazy scientists (Yes, that's plural. Guess who)! Expect my next chapter sometime by the next weekend. Have a nice day!

theWriterunknown: Thanks! I've always fancied myself an amateur poet, and these short ones are easy to write. Your encouragement is appreciated.

FloatingPizza: It's kind of a personal thing: I'm trying to at least mention every character that the story mentioned: the Consortium (check), Hong Kong Evo (watch this space), Rombauer and Lanski (no luck yet), NoFace (on the way), etc. But I'm a big fan of Captain Calan's character as well! The whole double-crossing, loyal to the end, snidely sarcastic model – I love it.

And now for the poem (getting to be a habit, this.)

There once was a Hunter named Cain,
Who walked and talked a big game.
Because he was mad,
And certainly bad,
He often is labeled insane