Hey! Thanks for all the positive feedback. I appreciate it a lot.
I forgot to mention this in the last chapter - it was originally Tani who went inside because I wanted to involve more team members, but I've decided to rewrite it for the sake of more Steve/Danny brotherhood scenes. I hope you don't mind.
There's a long chapter full of action ahead, so buckle up for a ride. Hopefully, it's not too chaotic and makes sense.
I had this exact scene on my mind even before I've started writing this story, so I hope you'll enjoy reading it at least as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Jerry's fingers flashed across the keyboard.
He had downloaded the exploit to the computer. Now he needed to push it into the jail's wider network. Then he would have control of everything.
"Where the hell is Danny?" Tani said. "He should be back by now."
Jerry ignored her.
"Come on, Jerry, this shouldn't have taken so long," Junior pressed.
The upload bar seemed to hang, the last portion stubbornly refusing to fill up.
"Jerry—come on," Lou joined him.
"The network is slow."
"Make it go faster," Quinn chimed in, adding to the pressure.
"I can't do that."
The computer bleeped its satisfaction.
Jerry looked down: the download bar was solid blue. "I'm in. Stand by."
He knew that he would have to move fast. He typed commands, his fingers a blur. He hit enter. "Here we go," he said.
Nothing.
He looked down at the laptop.
"Well?" Lou said.
The cursor blinked at him. "I don't—" He heard the sound of sirens.
"Is that you?" Adam asked.
"I told the system that there's a fire," Jerry said. "The doors are programmed to open if that happens."
"The cell doors?" Junior asked.
"All the doors."
A loud siren blared out.
Savage stopped.
The lights faded out.
There came a series of clicks and thunks as the locks on all of the doors along the corridor were released and then the lights flicked back on again.
The doors juddered and rattled, all of them sliding back.
One of the guards outside the cell cursed.
Steve spun around.
Two of the guards were close. He leaped at the nearest one. The man had his baton in his hand, holding it loosely with his fingers outside the leather strap. Steve lowered his shoulder and tackled him backward, all the way across the walkway. The guard was lighter than Steve and he was at a disadvantage. As his back hit the bars of Aydan's cell, Steve raised his hands and crashed his elbow into the side of his head, knocking him out cold. Steve reached for his baton.
One down.
Steve spun around. The guard to his right had managed to take his taser out of its holster. He was raising his arm to aim it as Steve backhanded him with the baton. The end of the shaft struck him on the side of the head. It was a stunning blow, and the guard dropped to his knees. He was conscious, but disoriented and obviously unable to stand up and fight again.
Two down.
The guard dropped the taser. Steve dropped to one knee and took it. He sensed movement from the cell. He swiveled his hips, aimed blindly, and fired.
Savage was too big to miss. The prongs deployed, one striking the big man in the fat of his belly and the other in his chest. The taser discharged, fifty thousand volts unloading along the cable for a full five seconds. Savage started to reach for the darts, but he was overwhelmed by the sudden and uncontrollable contraction of his muscles. His spine straightened before he toppled back, his legs and arms twitching.
Three down.
Steve swiveled back. He pushed back up to a standing position and brought the taser around in a forehand uppercut that cracked into the chin of one of the three remaining guards.
The man went down, unconscious before his head bounced off the metal walkway.
Steve ejected the spent cartridge from the taser.
The two guards who were still standing knew that they were in trouble. One of them had managed to fumble his baton out of its strap. He swung it at Steve's head, but the wild swipe was simple enough to duck beneath. Steve swept the man's legs and, as he landed against the walkway with a heavy thud, he pressed the taser into the man's chest and pulled the trigger to stun him.
More inmates appeared.
The last guard started to panic. He turned away from Steve, but froze. The way ahead was blocked by a clutch of prisoners. The man was caught between them and Steve. He backed away from Steve anyway, a few steps closer toward the other inmates.
Steve found it funny in a way. This man had been laughing at his pain just a minute ago, prodding him with a baton through the bars. But there were no bars between them now and he could see the fear growing in the man's eyes.
He ignored the coward and turned his attention back to Savage.
The big man was still on the floor. The contractions had eased, and his fingers were crawling across his stomach as he felt for the two darts. He found the darts and plucked them out. He pushed himself into a sitting position.
Steve slipped behind the big man and looped his cuffed hands over his neck. He clasped both hands together and then pulled until the chain that connected the cuffs was tight against Savage's throat. The big man knew that he was in trouble.
He started to struggle, but Steve had the advantage now.
Steve pulled back as hard as he could.
Savage was strong. He jerked forward. He managed to get his right foot on the ground and pushed up, hoisting Steve with him. Steve's toes brushed the floor of the cell as Savage reversed, driving Steve back into the wall.
The impact was powerful, driving the air from his lungs, but he was tenacious. He held on.
Savage tried again.
Steve tightened his grip and held on. He looped his legs around the big man's waist and leaned back, pulling with everything he had.
The choke was depressing the carotid artery, starving the brain of oxygen. Most people would have lost consciousness within ten seconds, but Steve knew that the thick muscle in Savage's neck would buy him a little extra time. But it didn't matter.
Steve yanked again, his biceps bulging, and, finally, Savage overbalanced.
They both hit the ground. Steve gasped from the impact, pinned beneath Savage's weight, but he maintained the hold. He locked his legs tighter. He pulled back harder still.
Four seconds.
Eight seconds.
Savage's body went limp and it took all of Steve's self-control not to keep pulling and put this sorry excuse of a man out for good. He let go and Savage's unconscious body landed on the floor with a thud.
Steve sucked in a painful breath and lifted his head.
The guard who backed away from him was now held against the wall by another inmate.
For a second, Steve considered helping him, but the man's wicked smile when Roederer had made his threats to Steve's loved ones crossed his mind. The bastard knew all too well for what kind of a man he was working for. He wasn't any better than men in the orange jumpsuits around him and didn't deserve to be treated any differently.
Steve turned away.
"Get off me!"
The two men tugged Danny deeper into the room and let go once Hoffman nodded.
Danny turned to face him, his nostrils flaring in anger. "What is this about, huh?" he snapped. "How deep are you in all this?"
"All this?"
"This conspiracy against Steve. Roederer is paying you, isn't he? The bar owner? The hotel manager and his wife? It was all you, wasn't it?"
Hoffman ignored him. "I warned you to let go, but you didn't listen. You kept pressing and pressing and now look."
But Danny's anger was threatening to bubble over and he refused to let go. "The video from the bar. Were you on it? Is that why you took it?" he kept pressing.
"No," Hoffman said.
"But you were there. You saw the footage. You killed them because of it, didn't you?"
Hoffman stared at him, his face blank.
"Admit it, you–"
"Enough!" Hoffman's lip curled into a snarl. "I really didn't want to do this, but you haven't given me a choice."
"You didn't want to do..." The sentence trailed off as it clicked.
Hoffman's hand twitched in the direction of his holstered gun.
Danny decided not to wait. He went for it, but the men standing at his side were faster. One of them blocked him off, while the other one brought his fist up and punched Danny right in the face.
The blow was strong and snapped Danny's head to the side. But it was a knee in his stomach following a second later that made him hunch over in pain. He struggled to catch his breath and straighten up, and the other man swiped him off his legs and let him drop to his knees.
When he looked up, he was staring into the barrel of Hoffman's gun.
That's when the siren went off.
Hoffman and his two men were distracted for a second, and Danny took his chance.
He scrambled up to his feet and lunged toward the nearest man, swinging an elbow up into his face.
Hoffman readjusted his aim.
Danny darted to the side. A shot rang out. The bullet whizzed past his ear, missing him by inches, and lodged in the wall behind him.
The other man lunged toward him.
With his right hand, Danny reached out and grabbed the man's wrist and swiveled him around to use him as a shield between himself and Hoffman. He twisted the man's wrist around and pulled, then smashed his forearm down just above the guy's elbow joint. He heard the crack as the man's arm snapped. He shouted out in pain and crumpled to the floor in front of Danny.
A second shot boomed. Once again, the bullet didn't hit him, but the blast, so close to Danny's ears, sent his brain swirling, disturbing his focus.
The first man used Danny's momentary disorientation to his advantage and crashed into him from the side, tackling him down to the floor. They grappled for a moment, both trying to get the upper hand. Danny managed to get on top of him, and swung his fist down to the man's face. And then one more, while trying to keep the man's arms pinned down with his knees.
He looked up to check on the other man and Hoffman, just as Hoffman aimed the gun in their direction again. Quickly, Danny rolled over the dazed man, taking cover behind his back.
Two bullets were fired.
The man on the floor gasped, his hands shooting up toward his torso. The blood stained his white shirt as the thick crimson liquid began oozing out of his chest. His eyes were wide in surprise for a moment, then his gaze went blank, and his body completely limp.
Danny scrambled to his feet, his eyes on Hoffman and the other man clutching his broken arm. He went for the gun, but Hoffman's goon threw himself between his boss and Danny, ready to attack. But Danny was faster. He wrapped his arm around the man's neck and squeezed, narrowly avoiding the next round fired from Hoffman's gun.
In seconds, the man was out cold.
Danny let him drop to the floor.
Hoffman snarled, lifting his gun again.
Danny didn't wait. He crashed into Hoffman head-on, the impact sending the smug agent to the floor. Danny kicked out, making solid contact with the gun hand, but Hoffman's grip remained firm. Danny pounced on top and grabbed for Hoffman's wrist. He pushed against Danny's resistance, trying to pull the gun into a firing position. Danny heaved, wrestling for control.
Another shot boomed, close to Danny's head, and his ears began to ring in the echo of it. He threw down his elbow, pushing his body weight behind the blow to maximize the impact. The bone crashed into Hoffman's face, a spray of blood erupted from his nose and his mouth, and Danny felt some of the strength in his arms fade. He let go of Hoffman's wrist and swung a ferocious hook into the side of his head, then flung his forehead down onto the bridge of the agent's nose.
As Danny looked down, preparing to deliver another blow, he saw Hoffman's bloodied head loll to the side and his body go limp. Danny pulled the gun from his now weak grip and, chest heaving, he stood up and looked down at the bastard.
He was still breathing.
"Son of a bitch," Danny swore.
Finally, he had a chance to give the agent what he deserved for threatening his family and having a role in getting Steve imprisoned and hurt.
He raised the gun.
His finger twitched at the trigger for good fifteen seconds. But… no. He wouldn't cross that line. Besides, it was highly possible that a crowd of raging inmates would get to him and save Danny a bullet.
With Hoffman's weapon in his hand, he went for the door. He needed to get out before it was too late. Hopefully, Steve was on his way to safety by now, so the last thing Danny wanted was slowing the team down and sabotaging Steve's escape.
There was no time to lose.
He threw one more glance to the room and his eyes fell on something that fell out of Hoffman's pocket onto the floor.
A cellphone.
Danny scooped it up, turned away, and ran.
The noise grew louder.
Steve edged to the open doorway and glanced out. The walkway swarmed with inmates. They were spilling out of the cells. The men were coming out, their curiosity quickly changing into something more urgent and desperate.
It was chaos now, and, for as long as chaos suppressed order, the prison was almost unimaginably perilous. Without order, grudges could be settled. Vendettas followed. Blood spilled.
Steve didn't care for the quarrels of his fellow inmates, but he needed to get around them so that he could start to make his way out of the building. One of the unconscious guards was just outside the open door. He reached and grabbed the man's ankle, yanking him inside. He frisked him quickly. He had a bunch of keys attached to his belt, and Steve flipped through them until he found the one that would open his cuffs. He bent his right wrist back so that he could work the key into the lock, twisted it, and popped the mechanism. The cuffs sprang open and Steve shook them off.
He was about to leave the cell when he heard a boom from the shotgun. He risked a look down the hall. The guard was reloading. He had to move.
The inmates were spilling down the stairs to the communal area at the bottom of the building. Steve took the baton with him and stepped out of the cell, following the flow along the walkway. The breakout was gathering momentum. Soon it would be difficult to stop.
There was going to be a full-scale riot.
Danny ran back in the direction that Hoffman had brought him. The building was chaotic. Staff was running freely along the corridors, hurrying to the exit. He bumped flush into a guard.
"Hey!" the guard shouted. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I–"
The guard swore. "Doesn't matter. The cells. The doors. They're all open."
Jerry, he thought. It worked.
The man looked at him, panic in his eyes. "The inmates are getting out. There's going to be a riot. You have to leave. We all have to leave."
"Okay."
"Follow me."
The guard set off and Danny ran behind him. He took a left and then another left. They turned a corner and he saw two orange-shirted inmates coming straight toward them.
The guard crashed into both of them. The first inmate drew back his fist and knocked the guard out with a mean, well-aimed left hook.
The inmates spotted him, smiled, and lunged ahead.
Danny lifted the gun, hoping it'd force the inmates to stop.
It didn't.
Aiming for one of the inmates' leg, he pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the inmate right under the knee, and he dropped down with a yelp of pain, clutching his leg.
The other inmate growled and started for Danny.
Danny readjusted the aim and fired again. But this time, nothing happened.
"You must be kidding me," he mumbled just for himself, dropping the useless weapon to the floor.
At that moment, the inmate crashed into him, the momentum giving him an advantage. He slammed Danny hard against the wall behind him, knocking the wind out of him. Danny was punched in the gut once and then twice and then a third time, and then a fourth blow dinged him on the point of his chin and the hall dimmed for a moment.
He was bounced off the wall again. The man's grip did not falter and so Danny brought both legs up and kicked off the wall, sending both of them stumbling across the hall. They bounced onto the hard floor.
The big man who had attacked him was up in a second. He had short hair, hate-filled eyes, his shoulders and arms heavy with muscle. He shone a smile that was full of bad intentions, reaching down onto his boot and revealing a small knife.
He brought it up and passed it between both hands as he prowled towards Danny, swinging the knife into his ribs. Danny swept his right arm around to block the swipe, their wrists clashing. He jabbed and Danny swung to the side, then he slashed down and the blade sliced through the fabric of his shirt and opened up a six-inch gash on his forearm.
Jags of pain scorched up from the wound.
The inmate changed tactics and charged him, driving him backward again. He pinned Danny's left hand with his right and, the knife in his left hand, pushed down. The knife started above his nose, close enough for him to see his own eye reflected in the steel, and then it jerked downwards, the point catching on the skin above his jawline and scratching a bloody furrow as it tracked down towards his throat.
Danny had his weaker left hand around the man's wrist, but all he could do was slow the progress.
The point of the knife drew blood as it pressed down on his throat, the first few millimeters sinking into his flesh. Danny worked his right leg free and drove his knee into the inmate's crotch. The man's mouth gaped open and he released Danny's right hand and then Danny seized his chance and punched the man straight into the face with his elbow.
The man staggered backward, and Danny delivered another blow, strong enough to make the man tip over and fall to his back. He released the grip of the knife with the impact, and Danny watched it slide away from the man's reach.
Danny's chest heaved with the exertion of the fight. up. Blood was running freely from the cut on the side of his hand and after he dabbed his fingers against his throat they were stained red.
The man was down for a while, distracted enough to miss Danny's intention of taking the weapon.
Danny stepped forward, going for the knife.
But somewhere halfway, the noise grew louder and he lifted his head up to see what was going on.
An inmate emerged from behind the corner, making his way to Danny. Then a second one followed. A third. A fourth. And then six more behind them.
Danny eyed the knife that was now closer to the small army of the inmates rushing toward him. He wouldn't get there on time.
"Damn it."
He was next to a door. But as he was about to move, his eyes landed on the unconscious guard on the floor. If that crowd got to him, the poor guy wouldn't live much longer.
Danny made a quick decision, risked taking a few more seconds out in the hall, and grabbed the guard's arm.
The prisoners were now only a few steps from them.
Danny went for the door. He turned the handle and it was unlocked. He pushed it open and darted inside, dragging the guard's limp body in, and slammed the door shut.
The room was dark and there were no windows. Danny glimpsed the shapes of a table and two chairs. He shut the door and looked for a key, but he couldn't see one. The handle rattled as it was turned and the door opened an inch.
Danny slammed it shut again and put his back to it.
There came an angry hammering on the door. "Hey! Open the door," a man shouted. "It's just me and my shank. Come on!"
Danny pushed against the door harder. Now what? He was stuck here. He wished he had his gun.
That reminded him of Hoffman's cellphone. He reached into his pocket and took it out. He tapped in the number he'd just given Steve.
The phone rang twice.
"Steve?" He recognized Tani's voice.
"No. It's Danny."
"Thank God you're all right. You had us worried. Where are you?"
"Inside the building. There's a riot and inmates are everywhere. I can't get out."
"Hold on."
There was a moment of silence and then she came back on the line. "You're on speaker. Are you safe?" she said.
The door opened up an inch and Danny had to push against it again. "Not for long."
"You know where you are?"
More shouts of the angry men came through the door.
"I don't know. Trapped somewhere in the administrative building. I don't know how long it'll stand up."
There was another crash as the men outside hurled themselves against the door again.
"Danny?"
"You need to hurry. I can't hold them out forever."
"I hear you. Stay on the line. Jerry wants to speak to you."
"Danny, I need you to send me your location," Jerry said. "Put the call on speaker and do as I say."
He did. Jerry told him to launch the messages app and then to send him his current location.
"Got you," Jerry said. "Stay where you are."
Jerry disconnected the call.
Steve frisked the body of another knocked-out guard and found a small cellphone. He took it and dialed the number that Danny had given him.
The call connected.
"Steve?" That you?" It was good to hear Lou's voice.
"Yeah."
He heard Junior. "Where are you?"
"In the cell block. I… I don't know exactly."
"It's all right, Jerry is trying to gain access to the cameras. He can figure it out, just hold on," Lou said. "Then we can navigate you out of there, but…"
"But what?"
"We have a problem. Danny is trapped inside."
Steve gripped the phone a little tighter as a sudden fear for his friend squeezed the air out of his lungs.
"Where is he?"
"Steve, you need to get out now," Lou insisted. "We'll help Danny do the same, okay? Help you both find the way out."
"Damn it, Lou! Where is he?" Steve snapped.
There was no way he was leaving this place without Danny.
Danny sat down with his back to the door, planted the soles of his feet flat on the floor, and braced his legs. There came another thump as whoever it was outside in the corridor tried to force the door. It opened a crack.
He wished that he was armed. That might have given him a chance. But he wasn't. His gun was still inside the security lodge. If the inmates were logical enough and thought about it, they would be able to loot the office and arm themselves. That the situation could get worse was obvious, but it was also an irrelevance as far as Danny was concerned.
It was already bad enough. There was no way out. No windows. No other doors. He was trapped, a police officer inside the swirling chaos of way too many rioting prisoners, many of whom had no hope of being released and had nothing to lose. The fact that they could take out their anger and frustration on a cop at the same time would be just another bonus for them.
There was no way he'd be able to fight the crowd on his own and win. But it seemed he'd have to take his chances sooner or later anyway, because that door wouldn't last much longer.
There came another loud thud as something was slammed against the door. It was weightier and harder than before. A heavy object. There came a second crash. And then a third. Danny heard a splintering and, as he looked up, he saw that the door was splitting down the middle.
He back until his thighs burned. He wasn't going to give up. He closed his eyes and thought of Grace and Charlie. He would hold out for as long as he could and then fight until his last breath if he had to.
There came another crash and then another rending creak as the door panel continued to split down the middle. There was a fresh cackle of laughter, an exhortation to efforts, and then…
The sound of something heavy falling to the floor.
He heard a scream interrupted by a yelp of pain and then the unmistakable sound of something hard colliding with flesh and bone. There was another impact as something dropped to the floor. He heard a cry of angry indignation that was choked off before it could be finished and then a familiar voice calling out to him.
"Danny!"
"Steve?" Danny managed, straightening up. The pressure from the door was now gone completely, and his guess was that the inmates' attention was now on his best friend, which only added to the sickly feeling in his stomach.
"Danno, you in there?"
"Steve!" he repeated. He was up on his feet in a second, his heart thudding against his ribcage as he opened up the door, determined to fight the prisoners by Steve's side.
Steve was standing outside, leaning his arm on the wall and breathing heavily. He was holding a prison officer's baton in his fist. Three orange-shirted inmates were sprawled on the floor, unmoving. Steve's own orange jumpsuit was flecked with red, and there was sweat on his face. There were fresh marks, too, and darkening patches that promised fresh bruises.
"You all right?" he asked, his concern rising.
"Yeah," Steve said, eyeing the blood on Danny's shirt with a frown. "You?"
Danny nodded, scanning the hall.
This didn't look right. He was sure there had been so many more of the inmates than the three Steve took down. "Where's the rest of them?" he asked.
"I managed to create a distraction, but we need to move."
He nodded, not missing the fact that his friend was now barely standing on his feet. He scooted closer to him in case he'd need assistance.
"Come on," Steve said and started to walk, obviously wanting to speed up, but struggling. His skin was pale, and he looked as if he might puke or faint any second, but he kept hobbling along, one tiny step at a time.
Danny was done watching him struggle, though. Expecting the protests, he closed the space between them. He wrapped Steve's arm around his neck and placed his hand over Steve's lower back to support him.
But Steve didn't complain, to his surprise. Instead, Danny could feel a little of his friend's weight shift onto him as Steve accepted the help. The fact Steve let him do that scared him, though. His friend must've been really at the bottom of his strength to let Danny help without objections.
He reached into the pocket for a cellphone with his free hand and put it to his ear, speaking as he walked, matching Steve's easy pace.
"It's Danny," he said once the team answered. "I'm with Steve now. We need a way out."
"I know. I've managed to hack the cameras," Jerry said. "The hall ahead is clear. No inmates, no guards. Move."
They did.
"The gate to the lobby is locked, though," Adam chimed in. "We didn't want the prisoners to get out. Jerry will unlock it for you as you get there but make sure there's no one else."
"Yeah, well, that's not up to us," Danny said.
He threw a glance at Steve, whose pace slowed down even more, his limping more obvious now. He could feel his friend lean on him a little more as he wrapped an arm around his aching ribs.
"Steve?" he said, beginning to get worried.
"I'm good," Steve managed through gritted teeth. "Just… a bit tired."
Danny didn't buy it. His friend was obviously utterly exhausted and hurting, and he looked sick, too. "Hang on, buddy, we're almost there," he said.
"Guys, you need to hurry." Danny heard Quinn's voice. "The police isn't here yet, but they're coming. The army, too."
"We're trying," Danny said.
For about a minute or two more, he followed Jerry's commands where to wait or turn and let him lead them to the gate to the main entrance hall.
A fire had been set in one of the adjoining rooms, and smoke was pouring out of broken windows and an open doorway. They saw other prisoners choking as they emerged into the dimness of the main room.
Danny was about to ask Jerry to unlock it and let them through, when the shout came through the phone.
"Watch out!" Jerry yelled. "Behind you."
They turned.
Two inmates rushed toward them, with angry snarls on their faces.
Danny let go of Steve and stepped forward to fend off the attack. He raised his arm to block the blow coming at him, spun the man around, and delivered an elbow to the back of his head. The guy was on the floor in seconds.
But meanwhile, he'd lost track of the other one. He turned and swallowed hard when he saw he was going after Steve.
Steve saw him coming, though, and, scrambling the remaining energy, he ducked the incoming fist clumsily. He swung the baton at the inmate in a diagonal downward swipe that caught the guy on the bony knuckle of his knee. There was little strength behind it, but, it was a good hit anyway. The man yelped in pain, rolling to the ground and clutching his leg.
Danny jogged toward Steve again.
"Jerry?" he said, his voice growing urgent.
He could hear the click of a lock. "Go, go, go!" Jerry shouted. "There's more of them coming."
Steve started forward.
Danny, already hearing the excited shouts of the crowd from behind the corner, grabbed his friend and forced him to walk a little faster, ignoring Steve's protesting groans.
He shut the metal door just inches before the crowd reached them, and he was afraid it was too late for Jerry to lock it back up. But he heard a crash and loud thudding on the door from the other side, angry shouts coming with it.
"That was close, Jerry," he said, shuddering at the thought of all of those men breaking free.
"Come on, Danno, we need to move," Steve mumbled.
Danny nodded, and, helping his friend walk, he set off for the main entrance.
A car was approaching them at speed. It flashed its lights.
"There," Steve said, changing direction.
The car raced up to them, skidding to a sudden stop. The rear door opened and Danny helped Steve get inside, then he slid in next to him.
"Get down," he said, gently pushing Steve's head lower, out of the sight, ignoring his friend's protesting growl.
Junior was in the front behind the wheel and Tani on the passenger's seat.
"You guys okay?" she asked as she scanned them both up and down.
"Yes. Go, kid!"
Junior did not need to be told twice. He stomped down on the gas and the wheels squealed as the rubber bit into the asphalt. The car jerked forward and then swung around as Junior turned the wheel to full lock. He straightened up and, stamping down on the gas again, they raced away.
*to be continued*
Yay! Steve's out and "free". But what happens next? What about the consequences of the team's actions? And... hang on, the bad guy is still running free, isn't he? So many possibilities still open.
Let me know what you think.