Tony set to work just after 5:00 in the afternoon, tearing a few pages out of his latest library book guiltily and placing them carefully in the center of his desk. Moving over to the bars he glanced outside, making certain no guard had heard the sound of the pages ripping. Satisfied that the din was enough to drown out anything, he ripped the rest of the pages from the book, laying them under his lighter. Taking a final glance through the bars, he pulled his blanket and top sheet on the ground, laying the papers on the bottom sheet. Holding one paper up he flicked the lighter, glad to notice a spark. The corner of the paper caught immediately, burning a small black square on the paper before dying.
'No, not like that,' Tony exclaimed in irritation, lighting the second corner. This time the paper took, aided by his gentle breathing on the tiny flame. He dropped it carefully onto the pile of paper, watching the fire spread to the next few pages rapidly. Tony pulled the sheet closer to the flames, willing it to catch fire. A strange smell filled his nose. Taking out the lighter he attempted to light the sheet, dismayed at it's slowness to catch fire from the paper. A small mist rose from the sheet directly below the burning pages, watched breathlessly by Tony. 'Come on, come on, that's right,' he muttered, watching the sheet begin to smoke.
Sanchez watched him directly across the floor, noticing he needed a little more time if his plan was to be pulled off successfully. He yelled something, throwing a note up two floors to one of the younger thieves, who screamed a few insults at the passing guards, slowing them down.
The sheet caught fire, burning in earnest. Carefully Tony pushed the flames against the foam mattress, wishing he had a little oil to give the fire a better start. 'Come on, catch fire,' he prayed, watching the slow progress in despair. He was never going to make it, and this little damage would be dealt with by Davis. 'Come ON, dammit.' The guards left the thief and continued their progress along the top catwalk opposite his cell, Tony praying they wouldn't look down on him. Excruciatingly slowly the mattress began to smoke.
By the time the guards reached the end of the catwalk and walked across the floor on the opposite side of the block the mattress sported its first flame. He watched the guards climb up the metal stairs to the top catwalk and begin their patrol there returning to his fire. It burned steadily. Now it was up to three different thieves housed on the top level to slow the guards. Rodriguez had given them all the order to cause a little trouble that afternoon. Tony was unable to see or hear anything from below, but the guards failed to arrive at their usual time, so he suspected they were getting plenty to complain about upstairs.
'Almeida, look sharp, they're coming,' warned the bank robber, passing his hand through the bars. 'Good luck.'
'Thanks, Martins.' Tony turned back to his bed, noting it burned steadily now, flames crackling round the top. He placed the second library book on the fire, watching it consumed. Rapidly he gathered his letters and Michelle's picture and hid them in his shirt, hearing the guards approaching. He said a quick prayer for help and stood in the middle of his cell, facing away from the bars, watching his fire.
'What the bloody hell is happening here?' screamed a guard, speaking rapidly into his two way radio. 'Prisoner, are you mad? What do you think you're doing?'
'Convict Almeida, turn round AT ONCE! What the hell are you doing?' demanded the second guard in a rage.
Tony turned round slowly, chewing his lip. A sudden memory of his sergeant came to him, crouched over a small pile of sticks in the desert on a patrol. 'Celebrating mid-summer,' he answered loudly, aware of the dozens of prisoners along the opposite row watching with bated breaths.
The fact that it was in fact only late spring failed to register with either of the outraged guards. 'Convict, move to the back of your cell and face the wall IMMEDIATELY,' one ordered. 'Hands behind your back. Move now!' he ordered furiously as Tony remained where he was. 'You'll feel my night stick, for certain.'
'Gee, what an incentive,' Tony muttered sarcastically. 'Move to the back so we can come in and beat you up – no! I'm watching my fire, it's supposed to burn all night,' he said firmly, enjoying their rage. They would not attempt an entry into his cell until there were six of them, and in the meantime he would have a little fun and slow them down. Quickly he crossed his cell, gathering his dirty blue towel and adding it to the flames.
A banging filled the block, a few prisoners yelling about fires, while those directly above him shouted questions as to what was happening below them. Tony opened his chest of drawers and removed his spare prison uniform and held it up for the guards to examine. 'Cool clothes,' he said, enjoying the clamor all around him. 'Should I take them to the fire?'
'Burn them, burn them,' yelled dozens of voices, every face pressed against the bars to witness the spectacle. Tony slowly carried the uniform over to the fire, holding it out above the flames.
'Convict Almeida, you drop that uniform, you'll end up in the hole so long you'll think you're a bloody termite,' warned a guard.
Slowly his fingers let go of his trousers, allowing them to slide into the fire. The guards watched outraged, while the screaming, banging and stamping intensified all around him. 'OH,' Tony yelled, amazed at his enjoyment of the situation.
'Convict Almeida, don't you dare,' shouted the second guard, as Tony let go of the denim shirt. 'OH NO!' he exclaimed, listening to yells of approval all around him. Easy Almeida, you're having too much fun! Keep going like this and you'll join Summers lighting fires all round the States.
'What's going on,' Davis cried, arriving with four other guards. 'Restrain that convict at once! Almeida, you've had your fun. Move to the back of the cell right now.'
'No way,' Tony cried, aware of the need to create as big a disturbance as possible. 'I'm celebrating midsummer like those druids round the stone, and you can't stop me! This country has freedom of worship! Isn't that right?' he yelled, listening in delight to the answering yells of approval.
'Alright, get the tear gas,' snapped Davis, while Tony took a rapid step backwards, closing his eyes against the spray. Howls of protest filled the block – his eyes burned as though on fire themselves and he gasped for air. His door was opened and all six guards entered with masks, forcing him to the ground and pulling his hands behind his back. Davis removed his night stick once he was cuffed and set about beating him while Tony coughed in the gas, unable to curl up for protection as his hands and legs were held by the guards.
Oh shit, that hurts. Much more of this and I won't be able to walk to the steel door, let alone escape!
Sanchez noticed his plight for he yelled something about more fire. A couple of guards moved to his door, confirming to Davis that piles of burning paper littered the floor. 'Alright, get the convict moving. He's going to the warden for a spell in the SHU. You'll wish you were never born, Convict Almeida,' Davis smirked as he was pulled to his feet.
Six guards escorted him to the doors accompanied by Davis. The howls of protest continued, until Davis' patience snapped. 'That's enough, you scum! I'm canceling yard time for the next fortnight. NO YARD TIME!'
'Asshole,' yelled Tony as he was pushed along the center of the floor, taking care not to step on the burning pieces of paper the prisoners had thrown there. He paused against the wall just before the steel door, kicking off his shoe. 'Just a sec.' He reached forward with his foot, pulling it towards him, bending slightly to put it on and digging his fingers into his pocket. Unerringly they closed over the wire which he withdrew, forcing it upwards into the lock on his cuffs. Steady, Almeida, this is the trickiest point in the escape. You've been trained to do this – take your time. Deftly he moved the wire in the lock, feeling his success as the cuffs relaxed on his wrists.
A guard grabbed his arm, giving him a shove. 'Move it, convict.' One of them swiped an access card through the slot and the first steel door opened.
'Take a good look round, convict. You won't be seeing this place for a long time,' Davis said.
I sure hope you're right. He turned back, searching for Sanchez, noting his anxious expression. He allowed a smile to creep across his face, noting a relieved look as he was grabbed and pushed into the lobby. The first steel door slammed shut, trapping them. Tony pulled his cuffs off and grabbed Davis' gun before anyone could react.
'Alright, listen up,' he began, noting their startled expressions as he pressed his gun into Davis head. 'I want all your guns and radios on the floor right now, or he dies.' Without meaning to he had used his toughest tone, the one he reserved on difficult patrols in the army.
'Do it' Davis ordered, trembling against his weapon. Six guns and radios landed in a pile by his feet.
'You,' Tony pointed with his hand at the least aggressive guard. 'Pick them up and bring them to me.' The guard obeyed and he put them by his feet. 'Alright, take off your shirts.' He watched while they stripped, holding the gun tight against Davis head. 'Gag each other,' he ordered, watching in satisfaction as they obeyed his orders, gagging each other. 'Good. Now I want all handcuffs.' They pulled their cuffs out. 'Cuff each other,' he snapped, aware of the passing time. 'Not you. I want you to strip.' The guard gave him a hateful look, handing him his clothes. 'Shoes too,' Tony snapped, waiting till they were all restrained before he undressed and pulled the guard's clothes on. 'Alright, you! What kind of car have you got and where is it parked,' he questioned, lowering the man's gag.
'A red Toyota and it's parked in the second row.'
Tony nodded. 'Ok, access cards.' He removed all cards from their pockets and swiped one through the doors, noting it opening. He stepped outside and pushed it shut behind him, allowing himself to take several deep breaths. It was his first trip outdoors unescorted since his arrest over five months ago. He resisted the urge to throw his head back and gaze at the setting sun, moving purposefully towards the administration block.
You can watch the sunset every evening if you make it out of here, Almeida.
Filled with deep reluctance he swiped a card through the slot, opening the steel gate. Tony forced himself to wait till the door closed before moving over to the second gate and swiping the same card. It beeped loudly and remained shut. His heart missed a few beats as he pulled the entire pack of cards out and examined them, selecting one a little different to the others. A mild claustrophobia overtook him as he waited in the small space, thrilled to see the door open. Taking another deep breath he entered the block, pulling the door closed behind him.
Easy, Almeida. This is the second hardest part of the escape. You got to look natural to avoid arousing suspicion. Find the rest of the guards going off duty and follow the last few out.
He was reasonably familiar with the admin block by now, having been there several times before. Walking purposefully he passed the small door that led underground to the hole, suppressing a shudder. Focus, Almeida. He passed the staircase that led upwards to the warden's office and the other offices, noting several guards coming downstairs. Pushing his panic aside he joined them as they walked to the exit, chatting together.
'What are you doing on the weekend, Roper?'
'Not much, play a little baseball with the kids in the park, I guess!'
Wow, they're human!
More guards emerged from the staircase, surrounding Tony, who struggled with a violent urge to break out of the group and hide. Sooner or later some of the guards would recognize him – not necessarily only those from B block. There were the guards who had searched him when he arrived, the guards who had thrown him in the hole twice, the guards who had brought him back from there, the guards who had taken him to the medical center, and of course the guards from Administrative Segregation. Searching their faces out of the corners of his eyes he noticed one he had seen from his visit with his father just yesterday.
Focus, Almeida, they're not expecting to see anyone but fellow guards here; they're not doing a search. Just keep going.
The group moved towards the exit en masse, Tony in the middle of them. Conversations floated all around him while he gazed forwards, pulling a bored expression onto his face. They passed the benches where he had first been stripped and placed into the prison's uniform and reached the large steel exit. One guard helpfully held the door open for the entire group. Tony stepped outside into the fresh air, trembling with excitement. He walked through the entrance courtyard in the middle of the group, taking care not to push ahead or lag behind. The large wooden doors stood closed in front of them, a guard in a booth opened his door and stepped outside. 'Cards' he requested and they all handed him ID cards which he ran rapidly through his scanner, not bothering to glance at faces. Tony handed him a card with a picture of the quietest guard and it passed through the scan without comment. His fingers felt moist as he reached for the card, walking through the open gate directly behind a guard he had never seen before. He found himself in a large car park, noticing the group disperse as they all headed towards the vehicles.
Now to find the red Toyota in the second row. Tony squinted in the setting sun, failing to locate it. Rapidly he ran his eyes along the row again. No Toyota sat in the entire row, red or otherwise. No Toyota was visible in the first or third rows, or the fourth. He chewed his lip, furious, aware he was in full view of the towers. He walked casually over to an older car and turning his back onto the guards pushed his wire inside the lock, opening it successfully. He pulled the panel off; pleased the car was too old to have any kind of security system.
'Hands on your head, prisoner! Step out of the car slowly,' ordered a stern voice. Swallowing, he looked up, seeing the car surrounded by armed guards, all their weapons trained on him. 'I'm not telling you again, prisoner. Move now or you'll get a bullet in your knee, and you'll never walk again!'
Oh God oh God, what did I do wrong? Slowly he placed his hands on his head, climbing out of the car, searching the car park through the corners of his eyes, noting a group of deserted cars.
One guard grabbed him as he stepped out, slamming him with full force against the bonnet. Tony put a hand down as though to rub his head, grabbing the guard by the throat and spinning him to the ground. Before any of the group could respond he darted towards the group of vehicles, hearing shots ring out. He dived under a car, breathing heavily.
Last chance, Almeida. Somehow they figured out your plan. Look round real quick, before they'll get the dogs, and keep moving. You've been trained to evade capture. Noting no one stood in the next row he crawled forward to the opposite car, forcing his breathing to slow. A gap loomed in front of him. Bending low, he darted across it, hearing dogs in the background. Dammit. They're not giving me a chance!