King of All I Survey
Chapter 103: Tonight, There’s Going to be a Jailbreak!

Chapter 103: Tonight, There’s Going to be a Jailbreak!

The second and third floors were more of the same, although the cells were better appointed as one went higher in the tower. On the third floor there were a few flat screen televisions and a number of radios. A few of the prisoners even had cell phones, guns were more prevalent as well.

"The Militia’s guard and sentries must live here for the most part," Dad guessed. The cave on the third floor was not a jail within a jail. There were neat and orderly bed platforms with blankets and decorations on the walls beside the beds. It was narrow, only about a foot and half of space was left to walk down the hall where the beds were, but it was still better than the crowds below.

"No sign of Maldonado," Joe reported. "It’s unlikely he’ll be on the fourth floor where the faction leaders live, but we’ll check it while we’re here."

The drone floated up the stairwell until it reached the fourth floor. As it headed for the entrance to the cave on this level, we noticed a difference. There were two sentries standing guard outside the locked door again made of iron bars. On the third level there had been none, and on the first two levels where the caves were used as jailed, there had been a single sentry at each end.

Both had a red arrow overlaid on the display screen indicating that the drone’s x-ray scans had found guns on them, but one also had a white arrow hovering above his head on the display. "I’ve added white arrows for hand-grenades. Also, the other one is armed with a MAC Model 10, which is a sub-machine pistol, 32 round magazine, fully automatic, with a suppressor."

"They have hand grenades and machine guns in prison?" I asked disbelievingly

"Can you think of a better crowd control weapon for someone without a conscience?" Dad asked. I just shook my head in response, not to answer his question, but because I was disgusted.

"Hmmm... High value prisoners? Or just the most dangerous ones? Joe, see if you can ID any of the people in there even if they aren’t our guy." Dad ordered.

"Acknowledged, I’ll check the faces against prison records and other databases to which I have access for matches."

The invisible drone silently passed through the bars. This jail was less crowded than the two on the lower floors. It was also well-appointed, with decently constructed bed platforms, blankets and shelves. It lacked personal items, though. No posters or photographs, no radios, just the necessities.

As the drone approached the first group of men, I saw that two had bruises on their faces, another had two black-eyes and it looked like his nose had been broken recently and not set.

"Identities confirmed," Joe announced, "Let me just check the others... Yes. That one is Jorge Maldonado, likely going by his cover identity of Angel Diaz. Remember to only address him by that name in mixed company," Joe cautioned. "Yes, finished with the sweep. There are twenty men here including Maldonado AKA Diaz. I have records of all of them being at the Colombian cartel compound where Maldonado was working undercover. With the three who were reported killed in the prison, that accounts for all of them. The group stayed together once they arrived here, but they seem to have been singled out and held separately from the rest of the population by the United Militias leadership in the prison."

"That’s not a good sign," Dad added. "Either they have a grudge with this cartel in particular, or someone on the outside wanted them kept here. Notice that there was a scattering of cell phones among the other inmates? Maybe somebody wants these guys to stay incommunicado."

"Yes, even those without cell phones can pay to use phones inside. Some of the prisoners make a business out of renting phones by the minute," Joe informed us.

Maldonado, or I guess I should start thinking of him as Diaz, was standing in a small group with three others, he was speaking animatedly, but in hushed tones so as not to be heard by the sentries stationed at both ends of the cave. It looked like a heated discussion. As the drone zeroed in on them, we overheard the conversation in Spanish.

"We have zero chance if we stay in here," Diaz was saying, "absolutely zero. It’s only a matter of time before they kill us. At least we’ll have a chance."

"They’ll just shoot us. We don’t have guns. They do. That’s not a chance."

"They open the doors to bring food, I can slip out behind the guys bringing it in and be on those two guards before they have a chance to draw. Then we’ll have the guns." Diaz pleaded.

"Look, man, I know you’re pretty good in a fight, but you’re going to take them both out before either of them can get a shot off? I don’t think so," one of the men said. "Even if we make it that far, they’re going to send someone to throw a grenade in our direction."

"Yeah, but put that MAC-10 in Diaz’s hands, though..." another of the men countered.

The first man shrugged and looked at Diaz, "maybe..."

"I’m in," the third man added, "I’m not gonna let them shoot me through the fuckin’ bars like a fish in a barrel. I want a chance to take someone to Hell with me." He glanced toward the sentries.

"Every one of the bastards on this level is gonna be armed, Lopez. Half a dozen will have grenades, and they won’t hesitate to use them even if their own guys are in the way," The first man countered.

"What if we had the Venezuelan hostage?" Diaz/ Maldonado asked.

"Good luck with that. If he’s close, he’ll have at least two more bodyguards with him, grenades, MAC-10s. Not a chance." The first man replied.

"Yeah, but if you get him, he’s the one guy they wouldn’t blow up just to get us," Lopez added, nodding his approval.

"Our other plan is I pick the locks late at night. If we take these two quietly, we might be able to get to the Venezuelan before they even know we’re out. We’re going to need the keys from him or one of the door guards on the main level anyway," Diaz offered.

"You need keys just to get into his room."

"I can pick that lock too, if nobody’s in the hall at night."

The first man glanced toward the two sentries again, "That’s better than just rushing them when they bring lunch..."

"Agreed, then?" Diaz asked.

The other three nodded in turn.

"Good, let the others know. Make sure they know it’s a sneak attack and they’ve gotta keep quiet when it starts. Tell everybody to pretend to go to bed as usual. I’ll start waking people quietly, when it’s time."

The first man scowled but nodded his agreement again. Diaz clapped him on the shoulder, meeting his eyes, "Good man. We can do this."

I turned away from the screen and looked at Dad, "Do they have a chance, Joe?"

"There would be significant casualties. If they managed to get a hostage that the others wouldn’t kill, it’s possible, but highly unlikely. The men in this prison are not especially good at disciplined responses to threats. It’s likely one or more would fire, regardless of hostages, then an all out gun battle takes place. With at least two more floors and the iron doors on the main level, no. If they made it that far, the hallway between the two wings is a shooting gallery for both sides. Outside, the guards in the towers will shoot anyone heading for the walls. There are floodlights around the perimeter. If their goal is to escape the prison, no. They’d have zero chance. Could one man slip away or hide in the general population during the confusion? Maybe five or ten percent chance."

"Maldonado must know that." Dad said.

"If he thinks they’re just going to kill them, five or ten percent is better than zero," I said. "Joe, can you use the drone to whisper in his ear, so others don’t hear?"

"Whisper? Please. I can use focused, narrow beam audio from the drone. It’ll only be audible within three inches of his ear, even if he’s standing in a crowd."

"All right, let’s tell him not to try to break out. We’ll just say we know he’s there and we’re going to extract him shortly after dark. He’ll assume we’re CIA, finally getting around to bringing him in," I said, "When the others go to bed, we LITV him from his bunk, no one even knows he’s gone until morning, maybe longer if he leaves a pile of blankets that look like a sleeping body."

"Sounds good," Dad agreed, "Joe, just patch me through to that tight beam audio when you’re ready."

"Ready," Joe replied instantly.

"Jorge, don’t react. Just listen," Dad began. The disciplined undercover CIA operative, flinched at hearing his real name, but then remained where he was without any obvious change in behavior.

Dad continued, "We can extract you at nightfall. Just lie in your bed as usual, we’ll pull you out. No risk, we have assets in place to do it quietly."

As we watched him on the screen, he slowly looked around trying to find the source of the voice unobtrusively. Then he very deliberately shook his head no.

"Your plan has almost no chance. You know that." Dad said.

Maldonado walked over to his bed platform and climbed up to lie down. With a little distance between him and the others in the cave, he whispered very quietly, "I won’t leave without all these men."

"Damn it!" Dad said, then realized that he was still being patched through. "They’re all criminals, Jorge, just you."

Maldonado shook his head no again.

Dad sent a mental command for Joe to cut off the audio feed to Maldonado. "We can just LITV him out anyway."

"We can just take them all," I offered, "They’re just going to be killed if we leave them. We can send them all to Blue Island for Joe’s famous rehab therapy."

"We’re not always going to be able to save everybody, Tim."

I looked at Dad and smiled, "But we’re always going to try."

Dad smiled back, nodding his approval. "OK, Joe patch me back in to Maldonado."

"Jorge, OK. We can take all of you. Everybody to their bunks as usual tonight. We’ll aim for four hours after they close the gates after bringing your dinner in tonight. We’re going to pull you out one at a time, unnoticed. If everyone’s in their bunks, there’s a lower chance that the guards will notice anything is happening. We have a secret exit. We’ll take you last, so you know we’re keeping our end of the deal. Communicate the change of plan to everyone quietly. Just say you have outside help coming from some powerful people."

Jorge lay in his bed, listening as Dad spoke. When Dad finished, he nodded his head up and down in agreement.

"Good," I’ll give you a 90 minute warning so you can make sure everybody is in their bunks at the right time. We’ll start in the middle and work our way to each end, leaving you for last. It’s going to be quiet and quick. You may not even notice anything until it’s your turn."

"I’m going to check that the others are gone before I go anywhere," he whispered quietly.

"Understood," Dad replied before letting Joe know he was done for now.

"Where are we going to put them all? Maldonado will want to see them all when we get him out," Dad asked.

"Let’s use the Food First warehouse in Sacapulas to start with. We’ll have ten paramilitaries on hand to keep order, and you and I, Dad, will go to talk to them," I said grinning. I was eager to start doing more than watching everything happen on a TV screen.

"Wait a minute, son..." Dad started.

"Android bodies, Dad. Joe, do you want to come along, too?"

"Yep!" Joe replied eagerly. "What should I wear?"

I laughed. "I’m thinking neat black suits, MIB style."

"Acknowledged, I’ll get a fabricator on it right away!"

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