Roberto has had his share of crazy moments, but this was different… adrenaline was pumping through his body, and he could feel himself sprinting; straining, and succouring to the heat from the sun above him. ‘Oh no… I’m not going to make it’ he thought, as he saw the prison gate tower over ahead of him. ‘No, no, no, no, no, no!!!! not like this… not now…!’ with a burst of strength he pushes off the ground and runs his way up a handhold half way up on the gate. With one last effort he heaves himself over the top, and falls to the ground, and screams in pain as he feels his leg crack. Ignoring his injury, he gets back up, and limps to a tree for cover nearby. He slumps down to the floor, breathing heavily, hoping the guards wouldn’t come after him…
“AGH… where IS he??” he holds his leg firmly and winces as he touches it. He looks around, and hears footsteps all around him. He closes his eyes and waits for his death to come to him… then, as the footsteps reach him, and he opens his eyes, he smiles. “Bastardo. You scared the hell out of me…” the agent in front of him nods and says in a grim voice,
“Sir, we can talk later… right now we need to take you somewhere safe…”

“There isn’t a safe place… the whole *1maledette terra is trying is blackmail me…”

“Sir, I still think you exaggerate.”

“Ha ha ha … you’re not the one that got locked in a prison for no apparent reason.”

“They wouldn’t have a reason to lock ME in prison, sir.”

“Never mind… This conversation is going nowhere, let’s go…” he starts to stand up to leave, but quickly snapped at the man as he turned on his heel to him, “and stop using the word “sir” so much, amico, it’s getting irritating.”

“ I understand” he hesitates, as if considering what to say for a second, and all can tell he wasn’t, as he replied with a smirk. “Sir…”

Roberto sighs as the agent grins by his side. He puts an arm around the man, and together, they progress slowly towards the helicopter in the distance…
…

It was about nine o clock when they arrived at his safe house, and all was quiet as they walked to the gate of the fortified mansion. It was a beautiful place, despite the brutal scars of war, left on its lime stone walls. The mansion inside stands like treasure in its chest, concealed, and well protected… the men stroll pass the fortifications, and continue through the garden, as Robert takes in all the smells and sensations or the comforting garden. Crickets chirp on in the grasses, and bushes of the yard, calming Robert’s stressed mind, slowly, and gently. He enters the room sleepily, and winces as he gazes into the bright chandelier, hanging from the ceiling of the grand staircase. He slowly ascends the steps, and finds himself more fatigued by the minute. Then, with a final gasp, he collapsed, unconscious on the carpeted floor.
…

His eyes pumped open, as an electrical force zapped his body. He could definitely feel an electrical current running through his veins. Shakily he looked towards his chest, and there is was. The mechanism that has been keeping him alive… It’s a tiny machine, pumping electricity into his heart. The contraption works by simulating the events inside a human body, during moments of stress. Roberto remembers naming it the FFMS (the fight or flight mode simulator.) His escape from the prison was all thanks to this device. However it does come with its fare share of risks. For example, if it is used too much, the user will begin to experience symptoms like: overly stress, a constant feel of insecurity, and even an urge to kill anyone in sight. Roberto has to be careful about the use of the FFMS for sure.

Then, his eyes begin to adapt to the lighting in the room, and he begins to make out the shape of two men on the other side of the room, talking. He winces as he tries to make out the features of the two, and he realises all of a sudden that it was his close friend, Marco, and his butler conversing. “Marco?” he begins to sit up.
“Amico! You’re awake. How did you get out of the prison?” Marco asks unsuccessfully trying to hide the excitement in his voice.
“Do you want the details?” Roberto replies grimly.
“Non, I guess not.” His friend said with a sigh.
“I thought not, but come my friend. Now that I’m back in Italia, shall we not celebrate??” he grins beneath his overgrown beard, “but first, I need a shave.”

The two walk out the door laughing, and telling stories of their adventures, and truthfully, Roberto was relieved to finally be home.

TO BE CONTINUED