October 1992

  Garcia sits in his specially designed cell. Nothing but white light in all directions. No shadows whatsoever. Not even under the bed. 24/7. For three straight months. And it was really beginning to get to him. His only thoughts tely have been on all the different ways he can make those who put him in here suffer. Ways that even his girls would cringe at. Oh yes, they were all going to pay.

  A low rumble shakes the cell, and the sensation spreads throughout the building, making it feel as if the entire structure is vibrating. Then another. Garcia runs to the door to look out the slit at eye level. The guards outside were running around in a panic. A siren rings out, the sound muffled by the sound dampening qualities of the room. Dust in the air obscures things a bit. Some guards turn, guns raised, but a moment ter bullets tear through them. A little of the blood spttering the little window. A smile grows wide on Garcia’s face.

  A man in all bck military combat gear steps up to the door. It opens a moment ter.

  “Mr. Garcia. We’re here to get you out, sir.” The man says.

  Another man behind him turns and nods. Ravis’ men.

  “What’s your name, soldier?”

  “Burkhart, sir.”

  “Got a knife, Burkhart?” Garcia asks.

  The mercenary takes a bde off his belt and hands it over. Garcia takes a moment to admire to hand crafted bde. Ebony handle with ptinum filigree. Very nice.

  “I need to get to Warden Mitchell’s office. Follow me.”

  Garcia makes his way through the chaos. The explosion knocked out the power. The security lights give enough light to see. Inmates are running frantically up and down the corridors screaming and carrying on. More than happy to be free. Guards were doing their best to quell the riot but weren’t winning. A few inmates try to rush Garcia and the mercs but are either gunned down or dropped by Garcia himself. A couple with slit throats. The other inmates watching gave them a wide berth from then on.

  Machine gun fire echoes from the distance. The others must be having some fun. Garcia can’t help but smile. Nothing like a bit of chaos to lighten the mood. And right now, he felt great.

  They reach the Warden’s office and kick in the door.

  “Oh, Warden Mitchell? Are you avaible? I have an appointment to see you.” Garcia walks to the desk where the Warden in hiding. Garcia puts his hands on the desk and leans over. “Oh, there you are. Did you lose something? Like your balls?”

  Garcia draws on the shadows in the room, sms the desk apart. The Warden yelps and covers his head with his hands. “P-Please!”

  Garcia pushes him over with a foot. Then leans down with the knife to his throat. “Come on Warden. You and I have to have a talk.”

  He picks him up and follows Burkhart out.

  “Please. Anything you want, I can get it for you!” The Warden cries.

  “What’s your first name, Warden?”

  “What?”

  Garcia pushes the knife in a bit. The Warden yelps.

  “L-Leonard!”

  “You look like a Leonard.” The inmates they pass cheer on Garcia, even forming a chant, upon seeing the Warden crying like a baby. “I just want a little knowledge, but first we got to get out of here. Too noisy in here.”

  They make their way up to the roof and the helicopter pad. Meeting up with the other mercenaries and gunning down a few more guards along the way. The guard towers on top of the walls decimated and smoking. Gotta love helicopters with toys.

  The helicopter is running and ready for liftoff. The other mercs load up first, then help Garcia and the warden up.

  “Wait, please! Don’t do this!” The Warden pleads.

  A few inmates who were following the group to the helicopter attempted to board it but were unsuccessful, being either kicked off or gunned down.

  The order to take off is given and the chopper immediately lifts itself into the air. It turns and dips its nose down. A missile fires and explodes on the outer wall, leaving a rge exit.

  “There’s your way out, gentlemen!” Garcia yells out, smiling. He then turns his attention to the Warden. “Now, Leonard. I just want to know one thing.”

  The Warden’s frightened look tells him he’s listening.

  “Were there anyone of my people captured in Portnd?’

  The Warden takes a confused moment. “I don’t know. I was only responsible for you…I…”

  “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I was merely pying with you.”

  Leonard’s face turns to shock.

  Garcia pats him on the head. Then slips the knife between a few ribs. “Don’t worry Leonard, you’ll be dead before you hit the ground.” The Warden is let go and falls limply to the countryside below. Dots of prison orange scattering rapidly from the giant hole in the prison wall. He shuts the door and puts on the headset.

  “I can be such a dick.” And shares a ugh with the mercenaries.

  He leans back and takes in the freedom. Contempting his next move. TalCorp.