Kirk's family had a very useful tradition that was instilled in each child's memory. On one's first camping trip after the age of 10, you were taught to pick locks and to untie yourself. Sam had done a good job on little Jimmy, and had made sure that the little "squirt" knew how to undo almost any knot that a person (or a Romulan) could tie.
Kirk awoke, dazed and unsteady, in a crude planet cell. There isn't even a forcefield to keep me in, he thought, smiling. Searching produced slim pieces of wire, strong enough to be used to persuade the lock to open. Once outside he realized that he hadn't been locked in a cell at all, but rather in an old storage shed.
25 minutes later brought Kirk a disrupter (graciously donated by its former owner after being given a break in wakefulness) and a second cell. Picking this lock off as well, wary of any noise that might bring more guards down on his head, Kirk entered the cell.
"Spock?" he whispered. He saw a figure in the back, lying on the ground. He turned him over, saw the familiar features. "Come on," he said, slapping him gently to waken him.
Spock thrashed for a moment before Kirk could get a hold of him. "Kroykah!" he croaked before Kirk's hand cut off any more sound. He struggled, then went limp again under Kirk.
"Great." With that, Kirk lifted his friend onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry and slipped out of the holding cell.