Chapter 7-2: Neglected Motion - Guardian Angels

John- United Human Faction- Day 68

            “Alright, John. It’s time for us to break out,” Jeremy whispered from the bunk above.

            “It’s only four in the morning. Shouldn’t we eat first?” John replied half-heartedly.

            “No, John! The time is right now. The guards are in the process of changing shifts, giving us the opportunity to pick the lock to the cell and run out to reclaim our possessions,” Jeremy said sticking his hand through the bars to feel at the lock.

            “Jeremy, listen to me right now,” John mumbled, groggily sliding out of his bunk. “You know me. I worked in a fake prison for quite a while. Me and my terrorist friends put all kinds of criminals behind bars before we released them to the wolves. I can tell you right now that none of them managed to pick any locks, and even if the bastards had, they wouldn’t have gotten past us. Think about that for a minute. Some asshole from Vietnam got together with a drug dealer from Ecuador and a sociopath from East LA, and not one man got away from them. Do you really think that you can escape from trained policemen in a jail manufactured by an international power?”

            His question was answered by a loud hum, which grew into a ground-shaking growl. Jeremy looked back in surprise, and hopped to the small window in the back of their cell. By the time he was able to peek through the metal bars into the open air, the growl had evolved into the distinct sound of an American supersonic jet. The unnaturally white contrail scarring the pale blue sky only bolstered Jeremy’s hopes.

            “I’m not out of luck,” Jeremy whispered. "Our trip through Canada did not go unnoticed, and now the Union will make its move to reclaim its last semblance of legitimacy."

            “That sounded like an F-35. I remember how those things shelled the jungles in the war,” John said, fully alert.

            “They must be flying reconnaissance.”

            “Nah. They use stealth planes for that. F-35s have bombs strapped to ‘em. Looks like Canada is turning into a neutral highway.”

            “They usually fly past later at night.”

            John looked to the Senator, expecting to see the man’s joking grin. The Senator Elect smiled, but only for a moment.