"So you're telling me that you want me to join your jailbreak plan?"
Viktor sat on the bleacher, with one leg crossed and a hand resting on his knee. His eyes were serious and calculating as he studied the infamous Isaak Semenov standing in front of him. Beside him, Frode, the old man, glanced back at Isaak with equal seriousness and caution.
Everyone else of the Wild Panthers had scattered elsewhere in the yard at Viktor's command, leaving only him and the two to have a private conversation where no one could overhear.
"That's exactly what I'm saying." Isaak responded, his voice unwavering. "We want your help in this jailbreak, and your gang too."
The idea of a jailbreak was nothing new in this place. Viktor knew that. In fact, it was so common that nearly every prisoner had attempted it at least once, but the issue was that there hadn't been a successful jailbreak for years, with the last one happened a decade ago.
There's a reason Moroznaya Bashnya ranks among the worst prisons in the world. It's not just about the living conditions or the harsh geography outside, but also the strict security. Things are even worse since the current warden, Dmitriy Morozov, took charge.
Captured prisoners who tried to escape often being executed immediately, later they will be hanged as a warning to other prisoners with the same ideas. And of course, there are sure a lots of warnings.
After considering for a moment, Viktor decided to speak again. His voice became more and more serious.
"The classic. High risk, high reward." He leaned foward slightly, voice low and deliberate. "You prove yourself, yeah. But if you think that is enough for me to follow whatever in your mind. Your wrong."
Is he refusing to join? Isaak thought troubled.
"I know that this sounds too risky for you. But, what I want is that maybe you and your gang could help me in my jailbreak plan? It's not nessecary for you to join me." Isaak tried to convince Viktor once more, only to receive another harsh response.
"Are you asking me to risk my life? The lives of my men, to help your plan?" Viktor paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the air then continued. "Tell me why I shouldn't have you thrown out right now for even mentioning it."
As Isaak hesitated, Frode stood up for him instead. The old man glared at Viktor from head to toe, exchanging glances before opening his mouth to say, "Yes. As this kiddo said, we are asking you to risk your life and your men's lives for this jailbreak plan."
Viktor furrowed his brow as if he couldn't believe his ears. How could this old man just say it so bluntly without any hesitation?
"Huh? What are you trying to say, you gramps?"
"We're discussing a jailbreak plan! Of course, it's going to have risks, many risks! It's a damn jailbreak plan after all. Did you expect it to be one hundred percent safe?"
Suddenly, the tables had turned, and the old man himself was now leading the conversation. This surprised both Isaak and Viktor, they had never imagined Frode could be so fearless in front of Viktor.
The old man didn't flinch or show nervous when facing Viktor. He was clever, understanding that Viktor didn't want nonsense bluffing, but rather details. Proofs that this wasn't just another ridiculous plan that would end badly.
Viktor's eyes widened slightly before he coughed to regain his composure.
"Of course I know it won't be all sunshine and rainbows." He said. "Alright then, you have one minute to convince me this isn't a suicide plan. And it better be good." Viktor settled back, awaiting their answer. The game is on.
Seeing that they had some time to discuss, Isaak pulled Frode aside for a conversation. His voice troubled as he asked the old man for help. "Do you have anything good to convince him that this jailbreak plan will be successful?"
Frode gave a small chuckle and replied lazily, "How am I supposed to know? Aren't you the one who brought this jailbreak up in the first place?"
"Don't tell me you're saying that... I have to deal with this myself because I brought it up in the first place??"
Frode shrugged. "Well, obviously, you are the mastermind; I am just helping you. All the plans and work you should handle yourself instead of relying on this old man."
He has a point there… I suppose I have no other choice but to do this myself.
Isaak placed his finger on his chin, thinking carefully. He glanced back and forth between Viktor, Frode, and the other members of the Wild Panthers gang scattered around the yard.
I think I have an idea…
Not the best idea, but it might be enough to persuade Viktor.
After a few moments of deep thought, Isaak turned to face Viktor. With a confident smirk, his eyes sharp and calculated. "You know you will die, right?"
First and most important, I need to be more confidence.
I had learned this from that Prince Nikolai or whatever.
Nobody wants to listen to someone who keeps nervous and uncertain about what they're saying, that's sucks. Especially when I am discussing such a sensitive topic.
"Huh?" Viktor tilted his head in confusion at Isaak's sudden declaration. "Die? Did you say that I will die?"
With a faint smirk, Isaak walked closer and sat down on the bleacher next to Viktor as if their status didn't mattered at all, his eyes scanning through the entire yard. "I'm pretty sure you didn't hear me wrong."
"You see." He continued, gesturing around the playground, from the random prisoners, the Bloody Nightshade gang to even Viktor's own men around. "It's not just you, but all of us here, everyone is going to die within just a few months."
"What do you mean by that?" Viktor glared at Isaak, his voice a mix of amusement and displeasure.
"I believe you understand it better than anyone else here."
Isaak returned Viktor's glare before shifting his gaze to the guards above them, the rifles in their hands, knowing that those very tools would be the cause of their imminent deaths. "All of us will die, some sooner than others, and the reverse is true as well. Perhaps a few will die from different causes, but most of us will be executed."
"…"
"Tell me. How long have you been here?" Isaak rested his cheek on his hand, his gaze unpredictable.
Viktor paused for a moment before giving Isaak his answer. "Nine months."
"And how much time do you have left until your execution?"
"…Three months." Viktor glared back at Isaak, facing his sly smirk.
"That's quite a long time in here. But in the end, you still end up… dead." Isaak emphasized the word dead, causing Viktor to fall into silent. "That is a shame."
Back when Frode was telling him about Moroznaya Bashnya. He mentioned the fact that this place is not for contain prisoners but to execute them. Once the prisoners are put in here, there are no ways to get them out without being dead.
That was crucial information for Isaak to have during this conversation.
I didn't expected that information to be this useful when trying to pursuedae Viktor like this. But hey, if it works, it works!
The black man glanced at Isaak for a moment, then turned his eyes to his gang members from afar. "You right. It will be such a shame, for me, and for the Wild Panthers." His voice filled with caution as if he had predicted what Isaak was planning to say next.
Isaak get closer to Viktor, his hand got through his shoulder as he whispering, his voice low and dangerous, copying the threatening way of someone he talked to before.
"Listen. They are executing 10 people a day now. Tommorow maybe they will increased into 11 or 12 people. Less then a month, your whole crew would be dead! Nobody will be alive, as well as it's gonna be you too."
This devil… Is more cunning then I expected.
Viktor facing eyes to eyes to Isaak. He knew it, he shouldn't dropped his guard when the person talking to him is the Sinner of the Empire. How could he be fooled at that weak appearance of Isaak earlier?
The words of the man who massacared his whole family can't be trusted.
But unfortunetly for Viktor, Isaak has found out the weakness of Viktor, a key to his victory in this conversation.
"Even though you are undoubtedly a ruthless person, I can see that you care about your crew. You don't want to watch them die, do you? You're not so cold as to let your crew, your fellow men, die."
Viktor sighed before replying, his eyes looks at Sam and Benji arguing with each other from afar. "That's correct."
"But if you accept my invitation, we can escape from here, along with your crew members."
"..."
"After all, we are all going to die. It's better to die trying than to rot in here, waiting day by day for your execution."
Viktor's expression hardened, the silence stretching between them into eternity. Isaak watched him patiently, observing the complex thoughts playing out on his face.
He had predicted what Isaak would point out before; it was quite clear, really. The logic Isaak laid bare couldn't be easily ignored. Deep down, he knew this would eventually be revealed; it was just a matter of time.
"He made a valid point." Frode broke the tense silence, his voice carefully as he watched Viktor's expression. "So what's your choice?"
Isaak remained quiet, allowing Viktor his moment of contemplation. Then, with a long sigh, Viktor finally spoke.
"I've lost men before." He began, his voice hoarse from the cold wind that suddenly swept through the yard. "Three were executed last month. It's normal in this place, I know that, but still, they were my fellows; they shared the same skin as me and everyone else in the gang."
He continued, his voice rumbling, a mix of sharing and torment. "Where I came from, people stick together. Black folks are like that; we had to fight against a world that treated our existence unfairly, always watching each other's backs. Here, it's no different."
Viktor turn over and look at Isaak, the intensity in them is undeniable, he gave Isaak a light shoulder pat. "You right, We all gonna die anyways, maybe I just wait someone to spoke it out. I guess I can't stand watching more of my crew lined up for death. I thinks you understand what that meant."
Surprise slightly ran through Isaak's face; he widened his eyes a little and then just nodded in acknowledgment. The tense atmosphere has dissapeared, leaving only a silence of agreement between them.
Isaak remained silent for a moment before starting again, his voice calm yet promising. "We will bring as many as we can to escape, I promise that."
"Better be it. I don't like all talk that can't do anything." Viktor let out a slight smirk.
"Of course, of course…"
"…"
Isaak stayed silent as he surveyed the yard with Viktor, a cold breeze brushing against his ears. Even though it was still summer, the chill still there, maybe it's due to their altitude in the high mountains.
The white peaks rose high in the distance, even though the bleacher was not so high but it still allowed Isaak to see beyond the tall walls. The sky slowly darkened as the sun began to set behind the mountains, a rare sight, especially in this place.
It's not that beautiful…
But still, this feels... nice.
Is the view from these heights always this amazing..?
Frode observed the two on the bleachers, staring at the view. The old man couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia; he raised his hand to stroke his white beard before letting out a sigh.
"How did they get so close so fast? Just a moment ago, they were fighting, and now they're sitting together like friends?"
"..."
After some moment of peace, a piercing sound of the loudspeaker suddenly echoed across the yard, pulling Isaak from the distant mountains back to the harsh reality in front of his eyes.
The call signaled that the yard time is over, and already, there are groups of prisoners began to form lines, preparing to be take back inside.
Isaak blinked, realizing he had been lost in thought. He quickly stood up, brushing the dust off his pants before hurrying down the bleachers.
"Hey, Isaak." Suddenly Viktor spoke up, making the young man to stop and turn back. The bear still remained seated on the bleacher. "Do you want me to call you Isaak? Or Semenov?"
The young man brushed off the question; he didn't care how he was addressed, as it wasn't even his real name anyway. "Just call me Isaak. I don't really care."
"Yeah, so Isaak. What do you want me or my gang to do in this jailbreak plan of yours?" Viktor asked carefully.
For a second, he almost spilled that he didn't have a plan so far. Luckily, he caught himself; he needed Viktor and his men, and he couldn't afford to create any doubts. Gaining Viktor's acceptance was already hard enough...
Damn… Think about it, I don't even have a proper plan yet…
What should I do? I can't tell them to do things that don't make sense; that will raise suspicion…
Maybe I should use a temporary way to cover it up first.
"First off, we need information." After a few seconds, Isaak finally replied, his mind whirring with possibilities. "I want you to watch for guard routines, find patterns, anything they do regularly."
Viktor slowly turned to look at the guards above them, those who had already stopped and hurried their steps. Then he nodded, acknowledging the task as he stood up.
"Alright, seems good. Information is one of the main priorities we need to address first before planning further; I can take care of it. In the meantime, you also should be careful with the Warden. That man is very dangerous; if we get caught, we are dead."
"Understandable." Isaak nodded as he kept that in his mind.
Before returning to his crew, Viktor pointed at Isaak's injured arm from the arm-wrestling. "Let me see that arm."
"Uh, alright?"
Isaak extended his injured hand, curiosity and caution evident in his eyes. With one swift motion, Viktor grasped his forearm, steady and strong. He forcefully realigned the bone of Isaak, causing him to grit his teeth, a small yelp escaping from his mouth.
"Nothing to worry about. Just a wrong joint placement," Viktor assured him, glancing over his shoulder toward his gang. "You've got a fixed arm now. We good?"
Isaak slowly moved his arm experimentally; although the pain was still there, it had turned into something less intense. He reluctantly nodded as Viktor moved to rejoin the Panthers. "Thanks."
The bear let out a knowing half-smirk before disappearing into the crowds, leaving Isaak and Frode behind.
As the young man turned his back, he saw Frode at his elbow, the old man was looking at Viktor just to make sure he was gone completely. After confirming that he was gone, Frode simply let out a relief breath.
"We'd betterline up before they notice us missing." Isaak suggested as he turned around, walking toward the lines from which they came.
Today was such a bizarre day… I hope I can get some moldy bread tonight.
"Hey, kiddo." Suddenly, Frode called out to him, making the young man turn back again.
"What? I don't have time to turn around all day—"
Before he could react, the old man already moved his hand upward and patted Isaak's back, a crooked grin on his weathered face as he spoke, his voice sly but quiet. "You did well today, kiddo. Great job."
Isaak blinked, his brain trying to process the rare praise as he unconsciously followed behind Frode.
What is this? Is this old man trying to hit me again?
But unlike what the young man thought, Frode didn't hit him or knock him on the forehead as he usually did. Instead, he simply pat his back in silence, his hand feels… safe.
"I thought you were about to spill that you aren't yourself or something; it would be amusing to watch you act clueless; that might fool someone stupid."
With just one sentence, Isaak rolled his eyes and slapped Frode's hand off his back. "Yeah, sure, whatever you want to say."
The old man still doesn't believe me. No matter how honest I am, I guess I can't change how he views me.
But, putting myself in his shoes, I suppose I would do the same; the story is too ridiculous for anyone to believe; even a kid knows that.
How ironic; even I can't believe in myself.
Then what do I expect from others?
"But still," Frode paused, turning to the young man with a grin. "I have to admit, I'm impressed."
The young man stood there for a moment, met his gaze briefly before walking past him to the line. A small smile on his face.
"...Thanks."
But maybe. Just maybe.
It wasn't too bad at all.
—————————————
After returning to their musty, hellhole cell, Isaak and Frode sat on the cold floor, waiting for their foods to arrive.
The metal door's window slid open briefly, allowing the guard outside to toss in two hard lumps of moldy bread. They hit the floor with a dull thud, and Isaak reached for one, feeling its nasty surface as his fingers brushed against specks of moldy green.
Not too much mold or too hard; still edible.
Remarkably, he no longer disgusted at the sight; a few days in here had made Isaak get used to the disgusting things. Still, even though he had grown used to it, it didn't mean that he had accepted eating foods like this.
But well, he had no choice. This meal was the only thing to help him survive temporarily; therefore, it didn't need to be of quality.
Isaak tore off a small piece. The stale crumb and strong smell of the bread assaulted his senses. He took a small bite, his mouth meeting musty, wet bread.
How can bread taste like dirt, sour, and bitter like this??
It's been day five in this hellish cell of Moroznaya Bashnya prison, and the countdown to his execution now stood at twenty-five days. Time was truly of the essence right now.
I should begin planning the whole scheme tonight…
After the meal, Isaak leaned his back against the wall, looking at the sky outside before glancing at his arm. His arm was not small or skinny, but compared to Viktor, it was nothing.
He had seen that overwhelming power, the way he couldn't do anything, how easily his hand could have been twisted. It felt hopeless, it felt weak. He barely fought back.
If it were the Warden, he would surely be dead; he could tell just by how ridiculously strong Dmitriy was. He could chop off his head at any time, and he couldn't do anything about it…
He needed to do something about it, or he would be dead soon.
"…Today." Isaak began, more to himself than to Frode. "I realized something. Actually, one thing that's been clear from the start."
"Hm?" Frode listened silently, his eyes fixed on Isaak with an intensity that urged him to continue. "And that is?"
"The Warden… Mikhail… Viktor…" Isaak muttered, his voice barely a whisper as he clenched his hand tightly, disappointment mixing with anger in his voice. "Compared to them, I'm… just an insect. Crushable at any moment. I will die, and I can't even do anything about it."
But I won't cry about it. I won't be a loser.
He stopped mid-sentence, letting the words hang in the air. Isaak took a deep breath, steadying himself before he turned to Frode, determination in his eyes.
I want to win. I want to live.
"I need to become stronger. Stronger than I am now, strong enough so I won't lose." he said, his plea direct as he looked at the old man. His wisdom is evident; Isaak could tell just by looking into those eyes.
Frode tilted his head, his gaze thoughtful, considering Isaak's words. A subtle smirk tugged at the edges of his lips, revealing a rare hint of approval behind his grizzled beard.
"Stronger, huh?" Frode said, his voice carrying a lilt of challenge and amusement. "Don't tell me that you want this old man to help you?"
Isaak nodded, his gaze steady. "Old man, please help me. I know I'm asking too much, but I really need your assistance. You are the only person I trust enough to share the jailbreak plan with."
"…"
"So please, I need your guidance. I promise I will repay you later…"
After hearing Isaak's words, Frode leaned back against the cold stone wall, crossing his arms. Minutes passed in silence as the old man considered. Finally, he smirk.
"How much?"
"Uh… Quite a lot?"
"Jackpot." He chuckled. "Let's not waste time and begin right now, shall we?"