"Yeah... I don't know if I can break out of my own cuffs," Katie answered Taryn. She could do it easily if her wrists were cuffed in front of her, since she could get a proper look at them to break them open. Not having eyes in the back of her head, getting them loose was nigh-impossible to her. Taryn's and Jason's cuffs, though, she thought she could remove. Hopefully.
"I can try to pick the locks on yours, though," she said as she knelt down to look at the cuffs on Jason's ankles. They seemed generic enough: nothing that looked like it needed a unique key to unlock. "Try being the operative word," she added with a grimace behind her 'helmet'. She had no idea if she could pick a lock with plant matter... something small and inflexible would probably be best to get in and poke at the inner workings. Cactus spines, considerably modified for additional length and thickness, could do it, if she was lucky.
With a thought, Katie sprouted two vines, one from each of her shoulders, and produced an inch or so of the spikes she needed from the tip of each one. She needed to be very precise with them, and focused her gaze on the lock attached to Jason's ankle as the vines moved in. She experimentally poked one of the spines into the keyhole: it appeared to be ineffective. A frown crossed Katie's face when the second spine slid in right beside it, and nothing happened.
Katie spent a good minute or so working the spines back and forth in the lock, but got nowhere. She didn't know enough about the internal mechanisms to be able to crack them open. Disappointed in herself for being unable to help, she retracted the two vines and clumsily got to her feet again, unraveling the plants over her face to show her failure.
"Sorry, guys, I can't pick them. Don't have the skill," she apologised. "Um... Jason, do you think you can do something?"
[hr]
"Ms Southe? I have a call coming in from Second Lieutenant Bishop," a woman's voice called out.
"Patch it through," the authoritative voice answered, as its owner drew a cellphone from an inside pocket of her black suit jacket and flipped it open. She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear before placing the earpiece to it. "Second Lieutenant Bishop, what can I do for you?"
"As much as I hate to say it, I need a favour, Catherine." The man seemed hesitant to speak at first, but that quickly faded. Ms Southe was not surprised by Bishop's hesitancy, since he usually preferred to cover missions alone rather than request help.
"I'll trade you a personal favour and a box full of my pride if you and your fighters help me and my fighters out with an assault on Prison Block Theta. I have troops that were recently captured there. I'm also sure that you get the same intelligence reports that I have and know those strange people who appeared in Patriot City are there as well. I have a feeling that it might be better if we get to them and find out what happened before United America does."
Ms Southe thought this over for a short time. She had indeed received reports that strangers had recently arrived in the city: she recalled there being a note about numbers beyond the odd wanderer or vagrant that was usually picked up walking the streets and being where they weren't supposed to be. It was doubtful that these strangers held any allegiances to anyone: they could be valuable assets to the Resistance, given the right information and a swift release from the prison.
"Done. I will lead a strike force myself. Give us ten minutes or so to gear up and meet you at your camp, and we can co-ordinate an attack from there," Ms Southe stated, a smile crossing her face at the imminent action. While she never liked taking lives, she knew it was a necessary evil. Ending the call soon after her agreement, the woman stood from her chair and replaced the phone in her suit pocket.
She then stood still for a minute or so, head bowed and eyes closed. The familiar, simultaneous feelings of a gut-churning wrench, the chill of a cold wind and mild claustrophobia rushed through her mind and body. When it was over, Ms Southe opened her eyes and looked up to find twenty-nine identical replicas of herself standing before her. Living, breathing copies, each with their own independent minds and copies of Ms Southe's knowledge and memories. From the waist-length hair to the formal clothing, each and every one was the exact same.
Ms Southe briefly felt a sensory overload as the new copies of herself established their synaptic links to her consciousness: as the original, every clone was linked into her brain. She felt feedback from their minds on a minor level, and with the sudden increase in numbers the feedback was increased substantially.
"Catherine, gear up. We have a prison break in the near future," Ms Southe addressed her clones. "I will direct this personally," she added as she stepped down from her slightly raised position to join their ranks. Moving as one, each of the thirty women turned and made their way out of the room to collect weapons and armour from other buildings in the small encampment.
There would be bloodshed ahead of Catherine Southe, but she welcomed it rather than trying to avoid it. Prison Block Theta wouldn't know what hit it by the time she was through.
[hr]
Spoon turned to the unarmoured man when he was addressed. ±Yes, I am a psychic. My name, as I said earlier, is Spoon,± he answered. ±Please forgive my preferred manner of speech: my vocal cords have weakened due to lack of use, and even a short time using it is enough to strain it. And I do not trust this place, to boot: there could be any number of listening devices built into the walls.
±In regards to getting out, I can do that easily enough. I stole a map of the prison block from the mind of a guard as I passed him. While I have never teleported through solid wall, I am willing to try to break us all out of here... The plan is simple: we jump from cell to cell, collecting your friends as we go, and then, provided we are not interrupted, I can take you to a Resistance camp,± he explained, casually leaning up against one of the walls as he spoke. His manner belied his nervousness, though, at both attempting such a feat and being the driving force in a prison break.
±There is a flaw, though, in my plan. The two that were led away by Lector. They will likely be under heavy guard when not facing the bastard himself in an interrogation. If I may ask, who are they?±
"I can try to pick the locks on yours, though," she said as she knelt down to look at the cuffs on Jason's ankles. They seemed generic enough: nothing that looked like it needed a unique key to unlock. "Try being the operative word," she added with a grimace behind her 'helmet'. She had no idea if she could pick a lock with plant matter... something small and inflexible would probably be best to get in and poke at the inner workings. Cactus spines, considerably modified for additional length and thickness, could do it, if she was lucky.
With a thought, Katie sprouted two vines, one from each of her shoulders, and produced an inch or so of the spikes she needed from the tip of each one. She needed to be very precise with them, and focused her gaze on the lock attached to Jason's ankle as the vines moved in. She experimentally poked one of the spines into the keyhole: it appeared to be ineffective. A frown crossed Katie's face when the second spine slid in right beside it, and nothing happened.
Katie spent a good minute or so working the spines back and forth in the lock, but got nowhere. She didn't know enough about the internal mechanisms to be able to crack them open. Disappointed in herself for being unable to help, she retracted the two vines and clumsily got to her feet again, unraveling the plants over her face to show her failure.
"Sorry, guys, I can't pick them. Don't have the skill," she apologised. "Um... Jason, do you think you can do something?"
[hr]
"Ms Southe? I have a call coming in from Second Lieutenant Bishop," a woman's voice called out.
"Patch it through," the authoritative voice answered, as its owner drew a cellphone from an inside pocket of her black suit jacket and flipped it open. She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear before placing the earpiece to it. "Second Lieutenant Bishop, what can I do for you?"
"As much as I hate to say it, I need a favour, Catherine." The man seemed hesitant to speak at first, but that quickly faded. Ms Southe was not surprised by Bishop's hesitancy, since he usually preferred to cover missions alone rather than request help.
"I'll trade you a personal favour and a box full of my pride if you and your fighters help me and my fighters out with an assault on Prison Block Theta. I have troops that were recently captured there. I'm also sure that you get the same intelligence reports that I have and know those strange people who appeared in Patriot City are there as well. I have a feeling that it might be better if we get to them and find out what happened before United America does."
Ms Southe thought this over for a short time. She had indeed received reports that strangers had recently arrived in the city: she recalled there being a note about numbers beyond the odd wanderer or vagrant that was usually picked up walking the streets and being where they weren't supposed to be. It was doubtful that these strangers held any allegiances to anyone: they could be valuable assets to the Resistance, given the right information and a swift release from the prison.
"Done. I will lead a strike force myself. Give us ten minutes or so to gear up and meet you at your camp, and we can co-ordinate an attack from there," Ms Southe stated, a smile crossing her face at the imminent action. While she never liked taking lives, she knew it was a necessary evil. Ending the call soon after her agreement, the woman stood from her chair and replaced the phone in her suit pocket.
She then stood still for a minute or so, head bowed and eyes closed. The familiar, simultaneous feelings of a gut-churning wrench, the chill of a cold wind and mild claustrophobia rushed through her mind and body. When it was over, Ms Southe opened her eyes and looked up to find twenty-nine identical replicas of herself standing before her. Living, breathing copies, each with their own independent minds and copies of Ms Southe's knowledge and memories. From the waist-length hair to the formal clothing, each and every one was the exact same.
Ms Southe briefly felt a sensory overload as the new copies of herself established their synaptic links to her consciousness: as the original, every clone was linked into her brain. She felt feedback from their minds on a minor level, and with the sudden increase in numbers the feedback was increased substantially.
"Catherine, gear up. We have a prison break in the near future," Ms Southe addressed her clones. "I will direct this personally," she added as she stepped down from her slightly raised position to join their ranks. Moving as one, each of the thirty women turned and made their way out of the room to collect weapons and armour from other buildings in the small encampment.
There would be bloodshed ahead of Catherine Southe, but she welcomed it rather than trying to avoid it. Prison Block Theta wouldn't know what hit it by the time she was through.
[hr]
Spoon turned to the unarmoured man when he was addressed. ±Yes, I am a psychic. My name, as I said earlier, is Spoon,± he answered. ±Please forgive my preferred manner of speech: my vocal cords have weakened due to lack of use, and even a short time using it is enough to strain it. And I do not trust this place, to boot: there could be any number of listening devices built into the walls.
±In regards to getting out, I can do that easily enough. I stole a map of the prison block from the mind of a guard as I passed him. While I have never teleported through solid wall, I am willing to try to break us all out of here... The plan is simple: we jump from cell to cell, collecting your friends as we go, and then, provided we are not interrupted, I can take you to a Resistance camp,± he explained, casually leaning up against one of the walls as he spoke. His manner belied his nervousness, though, at both attempting such a feat and being the driving force in a prison break.
±There is a flaw, though, in my plan. The two that were led away by Lector. They will likely be under heavy guard when not facing the bastard himself in an interrogation. If I may ask, who are they?±