Rating: Hard R for language, violence
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, hell, the plotline and most of the dialogue isn't even mine.
Notes: Thank you and huge big hugs to both Phyllis and Karen. They both held my hand and got me through this monstrous story. Thank you to Adrianna, my bestest friend, who checked the military aspect of the story as best she could while helping the victims of Hurricane Katrina with the rest of her unit. I'd also like to thank the B team and the wip-it-good challenge. Without them, this story would have never been finished because it took the threat of public humiliation for me to write this story. The challenge made me finish the story, but Phyllis, Karen, and my teammates were the reason I remained semi-sane. Thank you to all of you.
Perez stepped aside to let McClaren into their commandant's office. The sergeant carefully placed Colonel Winter's flag into its proper box before saluting both men and leaving. "Colonel, Prisoner Standish wishes to have a word with you."
The colonel distractedly nodded. "Five minutes."
"Of course, sir." Turning, he pushed Standish out into the hallway before returning to Winter's office. Five minutes later, as promised, he returned to the hallway. "Standish, he'll see you now."
Standish nodded, gathering his ever-present bag before following the lieutenant into Winter's office.
"Sir, Prisoner Standish."
Winter turned, staring expectantly at Standish. "Well?"
"If you want me to do this, three months will not work."
"Mr. Standish—"
Standish vehemently shook his head, involuntarily stepping forward. "Three days will not even work, sir. If I do this, I must be taken out of here immediately."
Winter return to his paperwork, shrugging. "I'm afraid that's not possible."
"When the situation explodes, and it will, everyone is going to know that I informed you of their plans, and my life will be forfeit. I am not doing this without guarantees from you, Colonel."
Winter stayed silent, moving papers about his desk as if organizing them.
"I see," Standish murmured, before smiling snidely. "Then I wish you luck in finding someone else who knows as much as I do and is willing to talk." He gathered the bag to his chest, turning on his heel.
"The earliest I could get you out is a week."
Standish stopped, still facing the door. "Seven days," he mocked, "I would not last seven seconds out there."
"You could ride out the week in solitary confinement. No one can get you there," Winter proposed, smiling in that fake way of his again.
"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" Standish answered, clearly not happy but willing to take what he could get.
"Excellent. So what does Mr. Larabee have planned?" Winter fully turned now, attention completely focused on the inmate.
"He is going to take over the prison," Standish answered.
Winter raised an eyebrow. "That won't get you released, Standish, that won't even get you extra potatoes at dinner."
Standish's expression was sheer outrage. "I know the details, colonel. I know how he plans to neutralize your guards. I know what weapons and tools he has. I also know where he's hiding them."
"Do you know when?"
"Standish!"
The three men jumped as the screams and yells penetrated the oak doors to the office.
"Standish! I know you're in there, you yella-belly snake! You rat!"
Perez pushed opened the door, Winter right on his heels.
"What the hell is going on here?" Perez demanded, snapping his baton hard against Tanner's legs, nearly getting his head taken off by the man's failing legs.
"Niebolt!" Winter barked. "What's he doing here!"
"He brought up the laundry, sir, then just went crazy!" Niebolt barely managed to answer as he wrapped his arms around the wiry but strong prisoner. Next to him, Zamora grunted when Tanner slammed an elbow into his side.
"You snake! You damn rat! What d'ya tell him!" Tanner was staring straight at Standish, eyes shooting fire.
"What is the problem, Mr. Tanner? My mother is ill and I am merely asking for a furlough!"
"Standish, shut up and get back into my office!" Winter yelled the order over his shoulder. "Get this man out of here! Put him in solitary. No one sees him, no one talks to him. Got it?" He nodded with satisfaction as all three men answered in the affirmative before dragging Tanner off. He turned back to see Standish pale and huddled around that big cloth bag he always carried.
"Oh sweet Jesus." Standish's accent was more pronounced than ever.
"It seems you no longer have a choice, Mr. Standish. Either you tell me what I want to know or you'll spend the next three years in solitary."
Standish nodded. "Yes, all right. But I need more time. I'll know when he plans to attack but I need more time. Come get me at oh-five hundred."
Ezra didn't need to look up to know that the footsteps that weren't even trying to be quiet were making their way to his cell.
"Ready to play?" Perez whispered.
He nodded. Minutes later, he was once again in Winter's office. Winter was at his desk once more, papers in hand. Perez stood guard mere feet from his back.
"Good morning, Mr. Standish."
"Good morning, sir." He had to fight to keep his face neutral.
"So, what do you have for me?" Winter stood, coming around his desk to lean against it.
"Not much," Ezra answered, waiting for the tick of irritation to start its way across Winter's face. He smiled inwardly when he spotted it.
"'Not much?' Then why are you here?"
He shrugged, letting a little of the smirk show. "I thought there might be something you would like to know."
"Oh really, and what's that?" Oh yes, Winter was definitely irritated now.
"When they take over the prison, they're going to fly the flag upside down."
"Upside down?"
Seeing Winter's face drop into confusion, Ezra took great pleasure in explaining. "It is the international sign of distress."
"I know that!" Winter snapped, stepping forward in a manner that Ezra thought was supposed to be threatening. "Where are they going to get a flag?"
Ezra let the smirk fully form on his lips. "They already have it. Yours."
"Mine?" It was almost comical to watch as Winter hastily stumbled to his prize flag box, opening it only to find it empty. "Perez! Who was in here yester—"
"I took it, you bastard." He grinned smugly at Winter's utterly flabbergasted and stunned expression.
The man didn't recover quickly, but eventually he did. "I thought you were smarter than that."
"Yes," Ezra sighed mournfully, "I know you did."
Ezra grunted as a booted foot planted itself solidly against his back.
"Where's the flag?"
Shaking his head, he laughed. "Have you checked your back pocket, Mr. Morrow?" Standish regretted his words immediately as he was hauled to his feet by Morrow's crony, Zamora. The big man shook him.
"The man asked you a question, Standish."
"And I answered it." Ezra braced himself as Zamora heaved back just enough to throw him down the metal stairs. Gasping with pain, Ezra pushed himself back to his feet. Instantly, he was grabbed. "Unhand me, you cretins."
"Shut up, Standish." Zamora bodily hauled him to the hole, throwing him in.
Ezra sat back, alternatively glaring and smirking at the closed door. He rested, knowing his time would be coming soon.
Buck could feel his entire body tighten with anticipation the second the alarm sounded. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it on before stepping out of his cell. Guards were running in from all directions, yelling at the prisoners to get out of the cells. Perez was on the intercom, telling them to head for the Yard through the south port. Trading glances with Chris and Nathan, he ambled out of the Tiers.
Behind him, above him, and around him, the guards raided the prison cells in search of the missing flag. Mattresses, books, sheets, and clothing all went flying as the soldiers tore up the prisoners' only personal space. Ducking his head, Buck hid his sneer.
Let the bastards search. They weren't going to find a damn thing.
"I don't want to hear that! Find the damn thing!" Perez yelled into his radio before visibly calming himself. "Sir, they found a lot of weaponry ... ."
"But no flag." Winter stared at the mass of prisoners milling about in the Yard. Instead of heading off into their respective cliques, they all stood as one solid entity. Arms folded or akimbo, but they were all staring at his window. By the blonde hair, he could tell that Larabee stood dead center, with his arms folded across his chest. Grabbing the binoculars, he saw Larabee's men surrounding him with the exception of Tanner and Standish.
"No, sir. But at least we have their weapons. There's not much they can do without them."
Using the binoculars, he continued to watch the inmates. They were shifting, nearly restless ... it was as if they were waiting. And they were still staring at his window. Dread started to itch its way forward. "Perez, how many men do we have searching the Tiers?"
"Close to a hundred, sir. Pretty much everyone we could get."
The arm holding the binoculars dropped. "It's not about the flag."
"Sir?"
"He wants to be in the Yard," Winter said, eyes widening. "Get all of our men out into the Yard. Now!"
Inside the Tiers, heads snapped up as Perez's voice boomed over the intercom again.
"Everybody in the Yard! Now! All teams into formation! Now! Now! Now!"
They stormed through the Tiers, metal ringing with their every step as the alarm sounded.
The alarm sounded.
"Sir?" Buck whispered, eyes studying the location of the four measly guards Winter had left on them.
Chris stared at the clock, waiting for just the right moment. The second the minute hand hit six ten, he yelled, "Now!"
Men scrambled in every direction. The ground guards froze in shock. The tower guards started firing.
Winter's mouth dropped as everything happened at once. Prisoners were running, the guards were yelling and running away from the prisoners, and his tower snipers started firing. "Perez! Get those men down there now!"
Perez skidded to a halt next to him, hand going shakily to his mouth. "Oh my God."
"Now, Perez!"
"C'mon, c'mon!" Josiah ran to the doors that led to the Tiers, hands held out as another inmate threw a set of heavy chains to him. Pulling the thick metal through the door handles, he quickly snapped the lock in place, jumping back as bodies slammed into the doors from the other side. He took a second to grin in the soldiers' stunned faces through the tiny window before heading for the next set of doors.
"Sir, they chained the doors of the Tiers," Perez informed his CO.
Winter lowered his binoculars. "Yes, I can see that."
Perez cleared his throat at the sarcasm. "It'll take them a little while to go around."
Winter nodded. "When they get there, tell the men to gear up but hold them. They'll expect us to come in hard and fast ... so we won't."
Perez stared at him in disbelief, eyes wandering to the chaos that reigned in the Yard, but nodded anyway. Orders were orders.
Buck led the charge against the ground troops. It barely took he and his squad of men minutes to subdue the guards, and drag their unconscious bodies to the designated temporary holding pens. He dumped his load on the ground, letting other hands strip the guard of anything useful. He ducked and weaved in place, avoiding the rubber bullets that were flying through the air, eyes searching out and finding Chris.
The general was surrounded by men as they ran for the command post. If one of the circle went down, another man took his place. Vin, Buck, and Josiah had made it very clear: the general had to be protected at all costs. Making sure Dellwo had their prisoners covered, and grabbing the guards' radios the thin black man held out to him, Buck ran across the Yard to the command post, sliding in just as another hail of bullets rained down.
"Guards are secured, sir!"
Chris nodded, taking the radios Buck handed him. He passed them out to Josiah, Buck, Duffy, and kept one for himself. "Duffy, get into the maintenance shed, you know what to do."
The younger, but bigger man nodded, but it wasn't a confident one. "Sir," he trailed off, voice clearly uncertain.
"Duffy," Chris grabbed his shoulder, "you can do this. And you'll be getting help any second now."
Duffy nodded, gripping the radio and ran for it.
"Buck, get Vin and Ezra out of the hole. Then get to the cafeteria."
"Yes, sir!"
"C'mon!" Buck waved his arms at his men, grinning as they dragged the guards to the hole. He frisked Angleton, knowing the sergeant would have the keys to all the cells in the Hole. Whooping with triumph, he turned towards the cells.
"How's it goin', Buck?"
"Like clockwork, kid, like clockwork." He grinned at Tanner, exchanging nods before the younger man lit out. He turned to the next cell, barely glancing at the inmate inside before unlocking it and turning to the next one.
"Mr. Wilmington, where's the general?"
"Standish, you li'l prick!" Buck whirled, eyes wide and disbelieving as he watched Ezra step out of the cell. "I can't believe you actually did it! You cost me a whole pack of smokes! Tanner doesn't even smoke and he won!"
Ezra laughed ruefully. "Yes, well, there is probably going to be a lot of losers today, my friend."
"Yeah, you're probably right." Buck turned the key again, slapping Wilson's back as the inmate rushed out to join the fight. "The general's at the wall."
Ezra saluted with two fingers before rushing out.
Ducking and weaving, much like every inmate there, Ezra finally skidded into the CP. The general's eyes immediately latched onto him.
"Good to see you, Ezra."
"Sir." He smiled, but shook his head ruefully. It made Chris laugh. "Where do you want me, sir?"
"Duffy needs you in maintenance. Call Travis for help, pretend you're McClaren if you need to." Chris' wink spoke volumes. The general wanted to make sure the outside world knew of the troubles in the Castle.
"Yes, sir." He tore off, dodging bullets and inmates alike, finally reaching his destination moments later. He was there in time to see Duffy and several others breaking down the door to the office. "Duffy!"
"Thank the fuckin' God!" Duffy thrust the phone at him like it was poisoned. "You call 'im. I gotta get to that waterline."
Ezra nodded and started dialing. As the phone rang, he watched the multitude of inmates working frantically to finish off the weapons that had been half assembled and hidden. Most of it was destined to be taken outside and given to Josiah. The older man never told him what he was planning, but it had to be huge to take this much manpower and hardware.
"General Travis, please," he asked very politely of the secretary when she picked up. "Yes, of course I know what time it is, madam, but you must wake him. I am Sergeant McClaren from the Castle. I have a message for him from Colonel Winter. Actually, ma'am, it is an SOS. We are having an upraising of the inmates. We need help."
He spun at the crashing, not realizing what it was until he saw Duffy and another massive inmate, Cyrus, he thought, slamming sledge hammers into the wall. The waterline had to be there and it had to be turned off if they were to survive the water cannon.
"The colonel said to hold them!" Perez yelled into his radio until he was satisfied that the order would be obeyed. He turned back to the window, eyes still disbelieving. "Sir, maybe we should call for reinforcements? We should get General Travis and his men down here."
Winter whirled, stalking towards him. "And say what? That Colonel Winter has lost control of his own prison?" he hissed.
"Get the fuck off me!"
"You're gonna ..."
"I said get the fuck off! Don't need your fuckin' help!"
"Fine!" Jackson whirled away from the injured man, glaring. Dark eyes pinned the nearest medically trained prisoner. "You! Catch him when he face plants into the floor, then check his vitals."
"Yes, sir!"
"Doc! Doc! Over here!"
"Oh my God ... my eye! I can't see! My eye!"
Jackson ran to the man's side, pushing the guy's friend away. "Let go. Let me see."
"Oh God, my eye!"
"Let go and let me see!" He barely pried the man's hands away when more wounded rushed in, led by Standish.
"Doc, where do you want him?"
Glancing around, Jackson pointed. "There! That table."
Two other prisoners rushed over to help Standish pull the man off his shoulders and onto the table. "Dr. Jackson, he's not breathing!"
"Shit!" Jackson slapped some torn bedding into the bleeding man's hand. "Cover it up with this. You're gonna be fine. Didn't hit your eye, dumbass. You," he pointed to the man's friend, "watch him. If it doesn't stop bleedin' you tell me."
"Yes, sir!"
He ran over to Standish pulling off the bloody dish washing gloves. "How long hasn't he been breathing?"
"I don't know," Standish huffed out, still trying to catch his breath. "I think ... I found him like that."
Jackson leaned over, carefully listening over the shouts and moans. "Damnit! His heart's stopped." He shook his head, shoulders slumping.
"Wait! Wait a minute! Can't you shock him or something?"
The doctor glared. "Standish, I'm using Popsicle sticks for finger splints, where the hell am I suppose to get a crash cart?"
"Shit! I don't know! But there's got to be something!"
"There's—" Jackson's eyes fell to the electrical socket above Standish's head.
"Here!" Standish flew through the makeshift triage room, ripping apart a lamp as he ran.
Working as one, the doctor and the bookie tore the rubber covering from the wires, each one wrapping the exposed metal wiring around the handles of two large ladles, finally wrapping the handles and the wires with scraps of rubber.
Jackson climbed onto the particle wood table. "When I say pull, you unplug it."
Standish nodded.
"Clear!"
Standish hesitated, eyes falling on the men still gathered around them.
Jackson glared at them. "Get the hell away from us! Move it!"
The men scurried back.
He turned, nodding to the other man. "Clear!"
The plug slid home, electricity flowed through the large spoons, the prisoner's body arched off the table.
"Pull!"
Jackson dropped the makeshift paddles, fingers going to the man's neck, ears straining to hear breath. "Clear!"
Once again the body arched, again the doctor listened for breath. He shook his head. "It's too late. He's gone."
"No, damnit! Try again!" Standish insisted, grabbing Jackson's arm, stopping him from sliding off the table. "One more time."
Jackson stared into emerald green eyes, then nodded, reaching for the ladles. "Clear!" Dropping the "paddles," he leaned forward, eyes widening. "Fuck, it worked. It worked!"
Standish laughed giddily, then shook it off, eyes going back to the injured still streaming in. "Where do you want me, doc?"
Nathan shook his head. "The general wants you outside."
"For what?" Ezra didn't trust the smirk that bloomed on Nathan's face.
"Uh, colonel?"
"What is it, Perez?" Winter took his eyes of his Yard.
"He wants to talk to you."
"Who?"
"Him."
That got his attention. He grabbed the radio that Perez held out to him. "Yes?"
"Colonel, I'm taking command of your prison."
The voice was utterly calm in comparison to the chaos that obviously reigned about him. It pissed Winter off because he knew his voice had the tiniest tremor to it. He consoled himself with the knowledge that Larabee couldn't hear it through the radio static. "Like hell you are."
Through the binoculars, he saw Larabee smirk. He nearly threw the radio through the window.
Josiah grunted, hefting the metal arm into place. "It's in!"
Wilson nodded, his arm working so fast Josiah could barely see it. Josiah may have planned this baby, but Wilson was the mechanic that would make it happen.
"No! That piece goes over to the left two feet!" Josiah yelled, frustrated that he couldn't point, but sighed in relief when the inmates got it right. Even with all the yelling and guns going off, he clearly heard the static.
"Josiah? How's it coming?"
Wilson finished just in time for him to grab the radio. "We're almost ready, sir! Shit!" He ducked, taking Wilson down with him as bullets came too close for comfort.
"Launch when ready then."
"Yes, sir!"
Perez squinted, then pulled the binoculars up for a closer look. "Sir? Can you come here, sir?"
"What now?"
Perez turned, handing his CO the binoculars and pointing. "Do you see that? Over there in the alley. What are they doing?"
Winter let the binoculars drop. "I don't know."
They watched as the inmates pushed the metal monster into the open, right into the middle of the yard.
It wasn't until the thing was facing him that Winter realized what it was. It looked just like the one in the books about medieval war practices. "Dear God, it's a trebuchet."
"Buck, release the wave," Chris ordered, wincing as another man pushing the trebuchet fell under the hail of rubber bullets. He turned. "Vin, those things ready?"
The feral grin was his answer.
"Launch when ready."
"You heard the man! Let's go!" Buck led the charge out of the cafeteria, metal lunch tray strapped to his arm just like everyone else. They ran at full tilt, raising the trays to cover themselves from the snipers' fire. "Into formation!"
The men moved as if they had done this all their lives. They ringed the men pushing the trebuchet and carrying its ammunition, covering them from all angles so that the bullets bounced harmlessly off their homemade shields.
"All right, guys, let's go." Vin didn't look to see if they followed, but headed for Morrow's tower, hugging the Castle's wall to avoid detection and the bullets. Morrow was the most dangerous of the snipers and had to be taken out first. "Anderson, there. Mickelroy, over there. No! Over to your left a foot. There!"
"Tanner!"
He deftly caught the liquid filled bag, cradling it in the pouch. Just as the general had planned, Morrow was too busy shooting the inmates around the trebuchet; he didn't even notice the men under his tower. Vin smirked as they pulled back on the rubber hoses, pulling them just taunt enough. The hoses flung the Molotov cocktail up the height of the tower. Flames burst upon impact.
"Yes!" Vin watched with malicious glee as Morrow was forced to run from the tower as the fire spread. Whatever Josiah's Pruno recipe was, it made one hell of a bomb. "Let's go! Three more to go!"
The men eagerly followed, high from their success in beating the Yard's bully. They took out the second tower as easily as the first. But the third tower had learned. Vin screamed as the bullet ripped through the bag, flames were licking at his arms and legs. He dropped and rolled but the flames weren't going out.
"Shit! Shit!" Thumper was suddenly there, heavy hands slapping at the flames that spread along Vin's legs.
"Thanks, Thum-ow! Fuck! Thumper!" He squirmed away as Thumper kept hitting him even after the flames were out. "Fuck, what are you ... ow!"
Thumper got in his face. "Told you I get you back, motherfucker."
"Asshole," Tanner yelled, but the smile took the sting from the insult.
"So what are we gonna do, Tanner? We ain't got any more Pruno left." Thumper moved over to let the other men in their squad take cover with them.
Vin grinned, turning to Grece. "You got it, Grece?"
The tall thin man grinned. "Oh hell yeah." He and his buddy took off running.
Vin pulled a wrench from his pocket and flipped it in the air before catching it.
"What the hell are you gonna do with that?"
Vin's smile made Thumper smile.
"What are they doing now?" Perez murmured to himself, watching as two inmates ran to join Tanner and Thumper at the third tower. Changing the scope on the binoculars, he made out the outline of an oxygen tank. "Fuck!"
The third tower blew as the tank hit it.
"Sir," Perez ground out. "I think it's time to deploy."
"I think you're right."
Vin stood, shaking the tower's debris from his body. "Fuck me, it worked!"
"Damn that was cool." Thumper's voice was pure awe. They punched knuckles before running for their next assignments.
"Brace yourselves!" Buck dug his feet in, knowing in a few seconds, Winter's Blue and Red teams would be flooding out of the Tiers. He was right. He gritted his teeth against the onslaught of heavy bodies and even heavier full-length metal shields. "Hold your positions!"
"Fire when ready, Josiah."
Sanchez grinned. "Wilson, it's time."
The other man grinned as well, hefting a rock from the wall into the sling.
"Fire!" Josiah yelled, jumping away from the metal arm.
Winter and Perez both jumped as the rock flew towards them. Thankfully it only hit the window's ledge.
"Perez, get the tank rolling and the chopper in the air."
"Yes, sir."
"Josiah, move ten feet forward."
"Yes, sir!" Josiah tucked the radio into his shirt. "All right, men! Ten feet forward! Ready! Hut!"
It was a slow process, moving the trebuchet and the ring of men around them, but it happened.
Josiah grinned at Wilson. "This is it, I can feel it."
"Yes, sir." Wilson bent, grabbing another rock.
"No, not that one. This one." Josiah tapped another one, slightly larger but vastly more important.
"Yeah," Wilson drawled, carefully placing it in the sling.
"Colonel! Move!" Perez barely had the time to jump towards Winter before the projectile slammed through the window.
From the floor, Winter stared in shock as the stone crashed through his most prized war memorabilia. He pushed Perez off his legs, unsteadily making his way to the rock.
"Sir—"
"Watch the window," he ordered over his shoulder. Eyes still glued to the rock. The light wasn't deceiving him. There, etched into the stone, were the words "John Dunne, US Marine."
"Sir! Look out!"
He jumped just in time as another bomb landed in the room. This time, it burst into flames. He scuttled backwards, letting Perez and the fire extinguisher do all the work.
He didn't need to lift his head to know that the water cannon had just entered the Yard. "Duffy, how's that coming?"
"Almost there, sir!"
"Hurry!"
Seconds later the high-pressure cannon began firing and stones started flying through the air.
"Oh fuck!" Buck broke formation as Winter's men left them alone to protect the water cannon. The cannon was currently turning the stone wall of their command post into weapons against them. The water lifted the stones, throwing them at haphazardly against the inmates, but striking them nevertheless. Damnit! The general was in there! "Shift formation! Cover the CP! Cover the CP!"
The men instantly turned towards the wall, braving the painful deluge. They raised their shields and dug into the muddy ground for all they were worth.
"C'mon, Duffy," Buck muttered. "Hurry the hell up!"
Duffy gave the wheel one last wrench, screaming in triumph as it spun down.
The men froze for one instant before realizing that the water was off. Their roar was deafening as they charged Winter's soldiers.
Buck was the first to reach the tank, launching himself through the air to tackle five of the guards.
Josiah was right on his heels, barreling through more guards.
The guards ran, abandoning the tank and the Yard.
"Colonel, it's General Travis. He wants to speak to you."
"What?" Winter grabbed the phone, placing a hand over the receiver. "If you disobeyed me and called him—"
"No, sir!" Perez's wide eyes confirmed his words.
He sucked in a breath, calming himself as much as he could while everything was going to hell. "General Travis, how can I help you?"
"Funny, that's what I was coming to do — help you."
"I don't understand, sir."
"You sent out an SOS, didn't you? A prison upraising?"
"Actually, sir, we have the situation under control. We're just mopping up now."
"Good, I'll see you in twenty."
Winter slammed the phone down after hearing the dial tone. He threw it across the room for good measure. "Get the chopper here now!"
"Load the cannon," came Larabee's order.
"Yes, sir." Buck jammed the radio into his pants, using both hands to climb up the tank. Another prisoner handed him the grappling hook and its attached chain. "Make sure it's secure!" he yelled at Josiah.
The other man rolled his eyes, but made sure any way that the other end of the chain was fastened onto the tank.
Seconds later, the chopper roared into view, the sniper already shooting. The shield bearers were once again in formation, covering as many as they could.
Buck grabbed his radio. "Duffy, turn it back on!" As he watched the gauges fill up, he aimed the nozzle straight at the chopper.
Ezra watched from next to Chris as Buck hooked the chopper's runners with one expert try.
"You're up, Ezra."
He swallowed, but one quick glance at those eyes and the fear diminished. "Yes, sir."
"Be careful, Ezra," Chris warned.
He smirked a cocky grin at his CO. "Yes, sir." He ran straight for Josiah, nearly laughing as the big man boosted him up in one smooth motion. The chains were rough against his skin, but he climbed it. He was nearly to half way up when he felt the jerk. "Oh shit."
He was swinging in the wind ... literally. One glance down confirmed that the other end of the chain was no longer attached to the tank. He had no choice but to keep climbing. He didn't dare breathe until his hands wrapped around the left runner and he boosted himself onto it. He took one second to catch his breath before carefully maneuvering himself up. The sniper was on the other side, still shooting.
He knew the sniper would be strapped in and settled for punching the guy's lights out.
"Hey!"
The pilot went down just as easily. Ezra frantically grabbed the controls, sliding into the co-pilot's seat. Even after four years, the memories hadn't dulled. His hands and feet knew exactly what to do. Several choreographed moves later, the chopper was on the ground and the inmates were grabbing the pilot and sniper. He pulled back on the controls, sending the bird back up into the air. He knew exactly what his next goal was.
The last tower was still firing on the inmates. Vin had taken care of Morrow, but Zamora was in the fourth tower and the man was just as bad as his crony. Last year, he had shot and killed George Potter because the old man couldn't drop to his knees fast enough when the alarm sounded. Ezra grinned ferally. Potter had been a friend.
He flew the Apache right up to the tower, smiling the same feral smile at Zamora through the glass. Wincing and instinctively jerking the controls as Zamora fired on him. Ezra stared at the hole in his windshield. The bastard was using live ammo.
"Good bye, Mr. Zamora. May you roast in hell."
He swung the controls, the chopper three-sixtied, sending the tail right through the tower.
Chris watched in horror as the body of the chopper slammed into the ground, rolling like a die across the yard. Miraculously, not a single inmate was caught beneath the wreckage. But Ezra hadn't come out. He ran, ignoring the shouts of the others, towards the chopper. The hot metal burned as he jerked opened the door.
"I've never crashed one before."
Chris couldn't help the chuckle as he ripped the seatbelts off. "C'mon, Ezra, we need to get out of here." He slung an arm around the pilot's waist, bodily pulling him from the wreck. They ran, as fast as Ezra could go before the explosion flung them to the ground.
They stood, both shaky but alive and intact. Chris studied the Yard. All of the dangers had been taken out. The towers were lit matchsticks against the afternoon sky. The chopper was burning as well. The tank sat useless on the other side of the Yard. The soldiers were nowhere to be seen. He saw Nathan emerge from his pseudo-infirmary, as well as any of the men who were still able to walk. Buck and Josiah were soaked through and through, but their grins were startlingly white against their mud-spattered faces. Vin looked a bit burnt around the edges but otherwise, he was fine.
"It's time."
The inmates watched as Ezra nodded and moved stiffly over to the wall. He grunted as he moved a few of the stones to reveal his bag. From its depths, he reverently pulled out the stolen flag before carefully handing it to the general.
Chris nodded to Josiah, who smiled. "Soldiers! Fall in!"
The men moved immediately this time. They quickly fell into perfect formation before the doors of the Tiers.
Seeing the men standing to his satisfaction, Josiah turned. "The men are assembled, sir."
Chris patted him on the shoulder. "Thank you, Josiah."
"No, sir. Thank you."
The sound of the Tier doors opening focused their attention. Chris turned and watched as Winter and a squad of his men emerged. The two groups faced one another in perfect silence.
Winter detached himself from his men, stopping feet from his enemy. He glanced up, causing everyone else to as well. Snipers lined the buildings surrounding the Yard. Nearly a hundred rifles were aimed into the mass of men.
"I have authorized the use of lethal ammunition at this facility," Winter announced as loudly as he could. "Any prisoner who refuses to obey my commands will be shot." He paused, staring significantly at Larabee. "All prisoners down on the ground now."
No one moved.
Chris could see the colonel grinding his teeth. The general recoiled just a bit when the man stepped into his personal space. Winter reeked of stale sweat and fear.
"I will give that command one more time and then I will fire into them," Winter said softly, cocking his head. "Surely you don't want that on your conscience, do you, Prisoner Larabee?" He, and Perez, who had followed him, both stepped back away from the assembled men.
"All prisoners down on the ground now."
Again, no one moved.
Only Perez heard the colonel's growl as he raised the radio.
"Wait."
All eyes turned to Larabee. He flicked one more disgusted glance at Winter before turning to address his men.
"We don't have to do this," Ezra whispered.
"We can fight on," Vin agreed.
"No, it ends here," Chris said quietly with a sad smile. "Men," he called out loudly, "get down."
At first, no one moved. But with a shared glance that said volumes, Vin slowly moved to lie on the ground. After him, Josiah, Nathan, Ezra, and Buck followed in succession. Then row after row of men were on the ground.
Satisfied that every man had followed his orders, Chris turned back to face Winter.
Who was strutting towards him, hand out. "Now give me my flag."
Chris shook his head. The man still didn't get it. "It's not your flag." Spinning on his heel like they taught at the academy, he turned towards the flagpole that had stood unadorned all day.
"What are you doing, Mr. Larabee? You've lost!"
He ignored the raised voice, continuing his march towards the pole.
"You will not raise that flag, do you hear me? You will not raise it upside down! You will get down on the ground! Get down or I will command them to open fire! This is my command!"
He was mere feet away from the flagpole, hoping that if the men did fire, he would be far enough away from those lying helplessly on the ground so that they wouldn't be caught in the middle.
"Fire! Snipers take that man out!"
Chris paused as he realized that silence was the only reaction to the colonel's orders. He glanced up at the frozen figures above him. He couldn't see their faces but he could feel the indecision in the air.
"What are you doing? That was an order! Shoot him!"
Again silence. But there was movement. Chris watched as one man slowly lowered his rifle. Then another and another and another. Soon enough every sniper had lowered their weapons. He let the sigh of relief escape. He slowly started forward again, reaching the pole in seconds. He carefully unhooked the snaps that attached the flag to the rope.
"Niebolt, McClaren! With me!"
He turned in time to see only Niebolt step uncertainly forward.
"No." Eyes jerked in surprise as Perez stepped forward. "Stay where you are, Niebolt."
"What are you doing?" Winter grabbed Perez, shaking the younger man. "Don't you see what he's doing? Don't you see he's going to desecrate my flag!"
"Sir," Perez grabbed his CO's hands. "Let go, sir. It's over."
Chris turned back, pulling on the rope hand over hand. It was beginning to unfurl as it rose into the air.
Shots rang out, each one deafening in the silence.
But still the flag rose ever higher.
"Colonel, put down the gun!" The lieutenant reluctantly pointed his own gun at his CO's back. "Sir, put it down!"
"I had to do it. You saw him. I couldn't let him desecrate the flag like that."
Lieutenant Perez barely heard the Colonel's rantings as he cuffed him. Instead, his eyes were on the injured general.
"Lieutenant, sir, can I help him?" Jackson's frantic pleas finally broke through his shock.
"Doc! Go help him!" He didn't see Jackson's grateful nod, automatically issuing orders. "McClaren, get these men back to the Tiers. Norwich, get the injured to the infirmary."
The prisoners mingled in the yard under the eagle eyes of the mix of new and old prison guards. Some were even working on the wall. Old habits were hard to break.
Sanchez straightened from the pile, wiping the sweat from his eyes. A movement near the tier's doors caught his eye. Squinting from under his upraised hand, he stared intently before a grin burst forth. He nudged Wilmington, nodding towards the tiers.
"Well hell," Wilmington murmured, his grin, impossibly, wider than Sanchez's.
Both men jumped from the wall, jogging quickly across the yard, and garnering the attention of the other prisoners. More eyes followed their progress when Wilmington whistled shrilly, easily catching Tanner and Standish's attention. The two followed the other man's nod, sharing a grin before straightening from the wall. The two sets of men reached their destination in time to hear the Nathan's admonishment.
"Take it easy, don't even think about movin' any faster than a snail, you hear me?" Jackson's voice broke no argument.
It brought grins to all their faces.
Tanner smirked. "Good thing he was as bad a shot as he was a warden, eh, Chief?"
Larabee rolled his eyes, hand still clutching his side.
"Any closer and we'd be attendin' his funeral," Nathan fussed, helping Vin lower the general onto a shaded bench.
"Doc, don't you know? Old war dogs never die," Josiah rumbled, grinning at them all.
"That is most reassuring, Mr. Sanchez, however," Standish gently touched the bandage on his head, "it still hurts like hell."
"Well, at least y'all got to do something!" Dunne muttered. "I was stuck in a coma!"
"Hell, kid, not all of us can sleep through everythin'," Buck teased.
The general grunted, shaking his head at the men's antics. Letting his head rest against the cool stone, Chris Larabee let his eyes wander. From the faces of his squabbling friends, to the other prisoners who had joined in their rebellion, to the high walls of the castle. He never would have thought it was possible, but here, amongst what should have been hell, he had found hope.
Perez handed the prisoner, soon to be ex-prisoner, his personal effects. "You have someone picking you up?"
"Yeah." Dunne's smile was blinding, the kid even bounced a little.
Major Perez nodded to the gatekeepers before returning the grin. "You have a good life, Dunne. And don't take this personally," Perez winked, "but don't come back."
He laughed, executing his signature salute. "Yes, sir."
JD stared at the heavy gates creaking open, wanting them to open faster. He had been lonely these last two months. Oh, sure, the other inmates were around and kept him company. They even kept the new prisoners who thought it'd be fun to pick on him away. But the others were gone, Ezra the last to leave before him.
After Winter had been sentenced to prison for the shooting of an unarmed man in his own prison, Perez had been promoted and ran the Castle with a softer hand. Few, if any, fights broke out, but that was mainly because of the Chief's influence. Usually, all Chris had to do was glare disapprovingly at the fighters before they subsided. If that didn't work, Buck, Josiah, and a few of the larger inmates would separate the combatants.
Overall, life had been extremely smooth for the last two years. But then, one by one, the others had been released. As warden, Perez had seen the wisdom of releasing the Chief's inner circle quickly after Chris' release. Not that they caused trouble or anything, but General Travis had wanted them released ASAP and in these parts, what General Travis wanted, General Travis got. Since JD had served the least amount of time, he was the last to leave behind the stone walls.
He stood, just in front of the now closed gates, soaking in the first rays of the morning.
"Hey, kid, you wanna check out your new digs or are you gonna sunbathe all day?"
JD grinned, opening his eyes to find his friends lined up and leaning against a huge monstrosity that, he knew from the commercials only, was called an Expedition. Ten big steps had him in the midst of his friends, getting hugged hard and slapped on the back even harder.
"Chief," he saluted the man breathlessly. He held the correct salute for an instant before completing it with his fingers through his hair.
"Good to see you, JD." Chris' smile was warm and welcoming, extending up into his eyes. The kind eyes that had drawn the shy misfit to him all those years ago, like a bee to flower. "Ready to go home, kid?"
"Yes, sir!"
The End
Feedback to Author