The prison sirens wailed in a long, desperate scream. The lights flickered, then died. Concrete walls, steel bars, and locked doors became irrelevant in the creeping darkness. Somewhere deep in the control room, an unseen hacker smiled, fingers dancing over a keyboard, pulling open every cell in the state penitentiary.
Jack Malone stood by the main gate, his sharp eyes scanning the yard like a hawk. The sudden blackout was no accident. He’d been watching the prison for days, embedded with the state police, tasked with guarding against a rumored cyberattack. But nothing had prepared him for this.
“Power’s out,” a guard hissed, stumbling past him, flashlight beam trembling in the void. “They’re coming out.”
Jack didn’t hesitate. His body moved faster than thought. He ducked behind a thick concrete pillar as a wave of prisoners burst into the yard, howling like wolves starved for blood and freedom.
A massive man with a tattoo snaking up his neck, a gorilla clutching a broken chain, charged at a guard, slamming him to the ground with a sickening crack. The guard cried out, struggling for breath. Nearby, another prisoner yanked a makeshift shiv from a broken table leg and lunged at a second guard.
“Drop it!” Jack barked, drawing his Glock. But the man barely flinched. Eyes wild, the prisoner swung the blade in a savage arc.
Jack fired twice. Both shots rang out in the dark. The attacker stumbled, then collapsed, clutching his bleeding side.
“Malone!” a voice shouted. It was Captain Reynolds, sprinting toward the control building with a squad behind him. “The whole system’s compromised, this is bigger than we thought!”
Jack nodded grimly. “How many got out?”
“Hundreds. They’re arming themselves. We’re surrounded.”
A piercing scream cut through the chaos, a woman’s voice, desperate and terrified. Jack turned, spotting a young nurse trapped against the fence, two prisoners closing in on her.
Without hesitation, Jack sprinted forward. He shoved one attacker away with a brutal right hook, then grabbed the second by the collar and slammed him into the chain-link. “Back off!”
The nurse gasped, scrambling toward safety.
“Stay behind me!” Jack barked.
The prisoners snarled, regrouping.
Suddenly, from the shadows, a figure stepped out, slick and cold. Dressed in black tactical gear, a masked mercenary holding a silenced rifle.
Jack’s heart sank. This wasn’t a random riot. It was orchestrated.
“Reynolds,” Jack said, voice low. “This is a full-scale extraction. Someone’s breaking their own people out.”
The mercenary fired once. The bullet tore through the air, shattering the fence post near Jack’s feet.
Jack dove, rolling behind cover.
“Sniper!” Reynolds yelled, signaling his men to form a perimeter.
Gunfire erupted. Chaos exploded.
Amid the confusion, Jack spotted a figure darting toward the prison’s east wing, a man in prison garb, but moving with purpose.
Jack broke cover and ran after him.
“Stop!” he shouted, adrenaline sharpening every sense.
The prisoner didn’t look back. He sprinted, weaving through toppled tables and snarling inmates.
Jack gained ground, lunging to grab his arm. The prisoner twisted free, drawing a jagged knife from his waistband.
“Who sent you?” Jack demanded, but the man only laughed, a dark, hollow sound.
“You don’t know the half of it, Malone.”
Jack cracked his knuckles. “Try me.”
The prisoner slashed wildly, forcing Jack to dodge back.
A shout from behind made Jack spin: Reynolds was down, clutching a bleeding shoulder.
“Cover me!” Jack ordered, eyes locked on the prisoner.
The man bolted for the service tunnel.
Jack followed, heart pounding.
Inside the narrow corridor, flickering emergency lights cast twisted shadows. The prisoner shoved a panel, revealing a hidden keypad. Numbers flashed on a screen.
Jack raised his gun.
“Stop!”
The prisoner typed furiously.
A heavy metal door groaned open.
From the darkness beyond, a dozen more prisoners, armed and dangerous, emerged.
“Welcome to the real war,” the man said, smirking.
Jack weighed his options. Gunshots echoed closer. The mercenary sniper was tightening the noose.
He took a deep breath and charged.
Fists, knives, and bullets flew in a brutal, primal dance. Jack fought with cold precision—every strike measured, every breath controlled.
He knocked one attacker into the wall, then caught a shiv aimed for his neck with his bare hand, crushing the blade in a vice grip.
“Enough!” Jack roared, grabbing the ringleader by the collar and slamming him to the floor.
Sirens blared again as power sputtered back on.
Backup flooded the yard, guns blazing.
The mercenary tried to slip away but Jack caught him with a punch that cracked ribs.
“Who hired you?” Jack demanded.
The mercenary spat blood. “You’re too late. The virus is in every system, power grids, traffic, defense… total collapse.”
Jack’s jaw tightened. “Not if I stop it.”
In the control room, Jack and Reynolds, wounded but alive, raced to the server banks.
“Tell me you’ve got a kill switch,” Jack growled.
Reynolds’ fingers flew over the keyboard. “Working on it… almost there.”
Suddenly, the screens flickered. The virus fought back, encrypting, scrambling.
Jack clenched his fists, rage fueling him.
“Come on!”
Finally, with a satisfying beep, the system began to reset.
Lights flickered back to life. Cell doors slammed shut.
The riot screams faded, replaced by the groans of prisoners subdued and shackled once again.
Jack exhaled, muscles trembling.
Reynolds smiled weakly. “We stopped the worst of it. For now.”
Jack looked out the barred window at the dawn breaking over the city, a cold, hard light cutting through the night’s destruction.
He wiped sweat from his brow.
“Tomorrow’s another fight,” he muttered.
“But for tonight, we win.”
And with that, the prison yard fell silent.
End
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