Chapter 5: Escape
Night passed over the prison like a blanket,shrouding everything in its embrace. The stars shone above in thousands, splatters of color across a black velvet sky. The prison was quiet at this time of night, when the prisoners were either asleep in their bunks, or quietly going along some activity or another. A handful of guards patrolled the walls surrounding the compound, their boot steps echoing on the drab gray walls, barbed wire in coils spanning them. The guards, with their pokemon at their side, were the only signs of life at this hour, right in the middle of dusk and dawn.
But then, a flash of white, near one of the towers. The guard at his post took nothing of it, not even seeing. Had be paid attention though, he could have prevented a disaster.
Three shadowy figures pranced out from the darkness, running close to the walls of the prison system. The lead figure, clad in black, took the first leap, bounding nearly fifteen feet in the air in a show of almost unnatural agility and strength. He clung to the almost invisible cracks in the walls, using them to assist in his climb up. The other two, watching his progress, soon mirrored his actions as well, following his every move and path.
The first figure nimbly crested the wall, his slender figure avoiding the barbed wire that topped the wall. He landed in a somersault, his feet landing lightly, making little noise. The other two followed behind him, echoing his every move.
The first guard ran down the parapet of the prison wall, stopping when he thought the nearby guards would flash their flashlights on him, revealing his position. They seemed oblivious to his presence. The figure ran a little more, stopping every now and then.
The guard he had been worrying the most about took a 180 degree turn, his flashlight landing squarely in front of the figure.
At first, the guard made no reaction, when his eyes saw he silhouette of the man standing before him. His brain caught up with his eyes at last, and he sputtered. "What the?. . ."
the figure reacted in a matter of milliseconds, whipping something out of his clothing, flinging the mysterious item at the guard. The item flew in a metallic blur, before lodging into the guard;s throat. He sunk to the ground, gurgling as the shurikan the figure threw, protruded out, blood slowly pooling out. The figure knelt and yanked the shurikan out, wiping the man's blood off the metal, using the scarf he kept around his face. He tucked the weapon away onto his person.
He took a look down to his left, eying the drop he would have to take, to get ever closer to his goal. He nodded curtly to the other two behind him and they took a simultaneous leap together, off the prison's walls and into the inner reaches of the compound. They kept close to the wall, hugging the shadows close to them as they headed ever closer to the main building, where their target was at.
Two guards were holding watch over the main building of the prison. The leading figure flung a shurikan into one of the guard's chest, while the one right behind him managed to slit the throat of the other with a razor thin dagger, cradling the guard's head as he sunk to the earth. Both died without a sound. The third reached down, fishing a ring full of keys off one of their belts. From there, it was a simple task of breaking into the prison.
As they entered, they took a quick glance at each other, nodding in silent agreement. One of them peeled off from the others, presumably to head towards the room where the cameras were being watched and studied. The other two went straight down the hallway, towards the heart of the prison, where the more dangerous criminals were being kept.
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It was a silent night for the guard, Christopher, as he leaned back in his comfortable seat, eyes flickering to the multiple screens laid out before him. The halls were silent, and none of the prisoners made any movement whatsoever. Not a peep at all. He reached for the lukewarm coffee he was idly sipping through the night, to keep from dozing off during the night. Caffeine was not only consumed regularly by the prison guards, but it flowed through their veins. Next was the bite from his burrito, one packed with scrambled eggs, sausage—synthetic, of course-, potatoes, and a hefty drizzle of hot sauce, the Charizard Fire brand. The meal would inevitably leave him with indigestion and/or heartburn in the morning, but boy, was it delicious.
There was a flash on one of the screens, capturing his attention. He sat upright in his seat, eyes squinting as he studied the screen. He swore he saw something, a person maybe, with shock white hair and a scarf. He took a glance at the mug of coffee in his hand, wondering if caffeine messed with a person's mind. He scowled at the screens for a few more minutes, wondering if he could catch this mysterious figure on another camera, but there was nothing. Christopher merely shrugged and leaned back in his seat once again.
The room was eerily silent, with only the sounds of his meal and the low soft buzz of the technology—if somewhat outdated-around him. He mumbled something under his breath about the 'quiet', and reached for the small hand held radio within reach on his desk. With his thick meaty hand, Christopher picked up the device, fiddling with it as he searched for the right station. The room was filled with the sound of static as he tried to find the proper station.
At last, he found one, a station that played classic rock music. As the radio played, he failed to hear the squeak of the door hinges as it was slowly pushed opened.
He failed to hear the sound of the small knife leaving the sheath and slicing across his throat.
The shadowy figure slipped past the body, to the many screens displayed across the desk. He frowned, trying to discern which one to silence. He decided to reach under the table, to simply pull the plug from the socket. All the screens blacked out at once. The man, seeing his task done, sharply exited the room, no longer fearing the shadow of the security system hovering over him.
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He met up with the other two in the deepest part of the prison system, where the most dangerous criminals were kept in isolation, away from the others. The cells were nothing more than blocks within blocks, with only a thick, sturdy door and a small window on the opposite wall. According to their insider, their target was kept in cell 23-19 B, on the second level in the wing. They scanned the scene for guards and any awake prisoners, should any be inclined to talk, in exchange for benefits and deals. There was none, for the guards had no worries about these criminals. They did not share rooms, and they were kept in small isolated rooms, away from the others.
They found themselves in front of the cell they were looking for, faced with a set of double locks. The first was an overall one. In a small room away from this section, there was a button that would unlock all the locks in that area simultaneously. The second was an individual lock, which was where the keys came in. the individual lock was originally built into the door when the prison was originally constructed, but they were no longer in use as the technological advantage of a collective was put in place. The insider, a Team Plasma agent, found a way to replicate the key to undo the lock illegally, allowing for them to free their target easily.
Thankfully, while there were advantages, such as an expedient lock down and the ability to simply undo the locks from a safe distance, there was one very bad disadvantage. The individual lock can override the collective lock. Granted, the keys to all the original locks were destroyed, but one could create the key and easily get out. There were security policies in place to prevent this sort of thing, but not if the key was made on the outside, as this one was.
The key fit easily into the lock like a hand would fit into a silken glove. There was an audible click and the door slowly opened, revealing their target: a man, with long pale green hair, streaks of gray more prominent, older, with what appeared to be an eye patch over his right eye.
The three men knelt down to one knee, shielding their faces from the elder man. "Lord Ghetsis," they intoned, three voices speaking as one whole. "We have come for you, for you to fulfill your glorious plan of conquest."
The man, Ghetsis, nodded in approval. "Good, good. You have done well, my Shadow Triad. Now, we must take our leave at last." He tidied his clothes, a drab beige prison uniform, and smartly exited the cell back straight and head held high, acting more like a professional business man than a now escaped convict. The Shadow Triad followed shortly behind him, shielding him from the dangers around.
As they passed one of the cells, one of the prisoners awoke, gawking at the scene and the relative ease one of their own escaped. Just as he began to ope his mouth, to alert the guards, the left most member of the Triad opened the narrow slot built into the wall, and quickly flung a shuriken through it, catching the prisoner in the throat. The prisoner collapsed to the ground without a sound.
Without many of the guards to stop their progress, they set a brisk pace without fear of triggering any of the alarms or the security, for those had been disabled. They managed to find their way into the deeper bowels of the system, where many of their supplies, food, clothing and what not were kept. It was much colder down their, but it was not noticed among the men. They wandered over to where the vehicles were kept, white vans that would bring in the wholesale supplies. They would often come in during the early hours of the morning, so to leave at any other time, it would trigger suspicion and alarm among those who worked there.
Thankfully, it was nearing that time of the morning and to casual observers, they were merely leaving to go out for a supply run. There was a driver already waiting for them hovering anxiously near one of the vans, one dressed in the Team Plasma uniform, gray, like a knights outfit. The symbol, which was normally emblazoned across the front, was missing, probably to keep his true allegiance a secret. He saluted Ghetsis smartly. "Lord Ghetsis!" he sputtered. "It is very good to see you!"
Ghetsis merely nodded. The Team Plasma grunt hurried toward the back, opening the back of the van up. "It is not the luxury you are used to," the grunt apologized. "But it is the best for your escape." Ghetsis said nothing, and climbed in, sitting crosslegged, patient. The Shadow Triad followed behind their leader, seating themselves around the man, should they need to shield them from outsiders. The grunt climbed into the driver's seat and the engine roared to life shortly after. He reached for a small button that would open the garage up, allowing them to leave.
The van zipped out of the lower confines of the prison and out of a small gate in the back, where they were ignored by any guards who happened to see the van go by. After all, what need would there be to stop it, if all it was going to do was to retrieve supplies? They watched the van go through, unaware that it was carrying out a payload far more precious than food, clothing and other miscellaneous supplies.
It was carrying a mad man.
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Ghetsis spoke first, after being quiet for so long. "What news of my son? N?"
One of the Shadow Triad answered. "From what we last heard, N was somewhere in Kanto, trying to stay as under the radar as he could."
"All while containing a powerful Legendary in a mere pokeball? How can one fathom that they would stay 'under the radar'?"
The man nodded. "Yes, Lord Ghetsis."
"And of my plan? Any word on the exact location of Kyurem? The Hollow One?"
"We have managed to narrow down the location somewhere in the eastern area of Unova. We are still trying to verify this though, using local legends and news casts."
"You realize that a generalized location is not good enough for me, no?"
The Triad were visibly shaken by this off-handed remark. "We realize this, Lord Ghetsis. From what information we have received, the majority of stories point to an area around Lacunosa Town."
"So it would appear that was where his corpse fell, when he was torn asunder. Interesting. . ." Ghetsis mused. "When we arrive at headquarters, I wish to be alone, in my library."
"Yes, Lord Ghetsis."
"And when we arrive, I an ordering you to find my son and bring him home, here, alongside me."
"Yes, Lord Ghetsis."
The van fell silent, the Shadow Triad in their own thoughts. Ghetsis closed his eyes, imagining what Kyurem must have been like, when it was in its original form. How glorious it must have been, to see the beast in control of all the plasma elements, alongside its intended ruler, dominating all of Unova.
And Ghetsis planned on doing so again, ushering a new glorious age for the region.