[hr][center][h2][sup][color=steelblue]Tuesday, May 23rd[/color][/sup][/h2]
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[u][b]Torvalds, Tobias, Prisoner No. 921 [/b][/u]

"Cell Block D, Cell Block D, out time." The loudspeaker yelled, as Tobias's cell opened, the memory of what the lawyer had said to him ringing in his ears. Tobias was no stranger to prison, he'd been in a brig, he'd been in prison in Norway, then immediately gotten onto a fishing ship across to Greenland, then to Liberty City. How times had changed, now he was in some fucking desert shithole, awaiting trial. Or extradition. 30 years, the lawyer had said, probably without parole, and extradition was an option if he..."wasn't suited" to the American penal system. Sitting in a prison in Norway that had cosy rooms and an even cosier living standard would be literally heaven in prison standards, and compared to Bollingbroke, this shithole, the Norwegian thought to himself, he'd rather be anywhere else. He was tempted to chase that instead of risk it, but fuck it, he thought to himself. He had some skulls to kick in.

The Norwegian's hair had been cut short, his beard shaved short but it had already regrown in the time in here. Tobias knew that this time, when they went out, all shit would raise. Kang and the others knew the plan, they had been informed by the same legal assistance that the Nordic biker had heard from. And Tobias knew that it was not going to be exactly pleasant. Starting a riot was dangerous, you either got killed or you'd never see the light of day again, but he had faith in whatever was to come.  Tobias could tell they looked after their own, but Christopher was harsh, but fair. That worried him a little. If he wanted Tobias and his chums not to talk, they'd be dead already. But they'd been protected, and were being bailed. They were needed, but somehow, Tobias didn't feel like it was overwhelmingly positive. 

Standing up in his room, Tobias hid the screwdriver he'd crafted into a shiv, out of view, out of mind, out of anyone's knowledge. He had beef to pick. Walking out of his cell, the orange-jumpsuited, Prisoner No.921 of Bollingbroke Penitentiary only shot a cold stare across at the prison guard at the end of the line, as he followed behind. Walking past the steel gate, out of the gallery, he headed into the yard, back into the searing sun. He'd seen the time as he left on the wall. 2:20. There was ten minutes, exactly. 

He walked across, and kept thinking. There had been a rat, and he had to be fucking here, whoever it was, the driver, the security, an insider? Kang was too loyal, sociopathic, but he had nothing to gain. Neither Aiden, nor Ravyn. And him? Well, for as much as a mercenary he was, he'd been in this organisation for two years and proven his worth as a gun. It didn't add up. But somehow, Tobias didn't so much care. There was only the plan. He found Kang in the distance, and gave a simple nod, looking across. He was mentally counting minutes, he had no watch, he could only guess the time here now. But by 2:30, there had to be a riot. There were guards in the towers armed with shotguns and sub-machine guns, a fucking lot of them, actually, and there was little cover. How the fuck was this meant to work?

Tobias didn't question. He only made his way towards Kang, not being able to spot the others yet, thinking about it all again. So, stab some poor fucker, kick off a fight, and by the time the guards came, whatever was happening at 2:30 exactly on the fucking dot, would make sure he didn't get shot, stabbed or beaten to death. There were gangs in this prison, and weirdly, they hadn't touched or even started beef with Tobias, or anyone else on the team. How that had happened, Tobias didn't understand, but perhaps it was a healthy respect, you didn't mess with someone in for a murder beef, four of them, all of whom worked for a criminal syndicate that was to some of these people, near enough mythical. Well, maybe.

"We're on in five. I have the Mexicans, you have Dick Harrington himself. Have fun." His Norwegian accent came out even when he spoke, though it was slowly getting Americanised, bit by bit, as he nodded. Drawing the shank and gently hiding it up his sleeve, he smirked, as he walked away, knowing there were minutes. Tick, tick, tick. He looked around, clocked the guards in the towers, the guards around, cover, and what was going to happen. Taking a deep breath, he broke into a chaotic smirk. Kang would be set off, and he prayed the others had their targets.

The Mexicans were diverse in their gangs, mostly from cartels, but they weren't altogether. This particular group looked like the weaker one, and whilst there was half a dozen, and it would be insane to deal with a bunch of people heavily tattooed who never looked like they had actually been out of prison, awaiting the same kind of extradition as Tobias, and with very little to lose. Yet he didn't give a shit. This was how you started riots. Pick on someone about twice your size, run, and then let the rest kick off a set of events. Like throwing a match into the petrol, you make the flames rise everywhere, Tobias thought to himself. Before he grinned at the Mexican, and buried the shiv into his eye socket.

"Arrrrrghhahahahh!" That wasn't the man who'd been stabbed screaming...in what sounded like a bit of absolute bastardry. It was Tobias Torvalds, and right now, whilst he didn't like doing some things sometimes, he was stabbing some guy who probably raped some kids on the side, he thought to himself. And that made it okay. Ish. 
"Fucking cunts!" 

The man screamed joining the Norwegian, as Tobias head-butted his friend, the man next to him reacting with a shove and a right-hook that took him down to the ground, swearing in Spanish loudly. Tobias grinned, laughing almost as he stood back up crawling away, withdrawing the shank from eyeball man with a violent pull, Tobias no weakling. Neither were these Mexicans. One threw a punch, and he barely missed, as the entirety of the gang moved around him, the guards distracted by something else, and something else. Tobias ran, pushing one aawy, running towards another group. Shit, he was pissing off a lot of the prison. He shoved into another prisoner in a huddled group, the Mexicans running after him, one almost pushing him onto the ground, as the guy behind Tobias just fell over instead, flat on his ass.

"Come on then!" Tobias yelled at them, hearing the sirens wail off in the prison. The adrenaline pumped, the guards were confused, disorientated, unaware of what the fuck was going on. But Tobias, Aiden, Kang and Ravyn were right where they had to be, in that moment, as the riot began to erupt, and what started as a stabbing of some Mexican dude turned into an inter-racial prison riot, with the guards being even taken on, everyone fighting everyone at this point. Tobias had stared the prisoner fighting, now it had to go towards the guards, and this was something he was sure the other three would easily facilitate. If this escape was going to work, they had to now keep the momentum, and pray that whoever was on the outside acted now. The occasional gunshot went off, into the air, then at one or two prisoners, as Tobias dove for cover, no longer even a target of contention in the aftermath, the red blood pouring down his orange prison jumpsuit.
"Any fucking second!"

[@Mega Birb]