Dialectic revised: 6-2-03     Dmitri Novykh walked down the hallway as the blaring klaxons echoed. The intermittent red alarm light bathed the walls blood red. Even though he reveled in how appropriate that color felt to him, he did not pause because his plan had just begun. He had broken out of his cell during a shift change and fled to this hallway before the lockdown guards arrived. He would need to free his hands now, so he carefully tucked his copy of The Communist Manifesto into his pants and discarded the tiny burnt-out EMP he had used to short-circuit his cell's locks and forcefield. He also threw away the fake scar that had concealed it on his body from all of the scans he had been subjected to upon arrival all those years ago. With phase one of his plan complete, it was now time to enact phase two-acquire a weapon. This hallway led to the infirmary, which was the lowest security area that still required a guard. Because it was such a low priority, it was always the post for the newest and most inexperienced. The hallway took a sharp turn, and Dmitri peered around the corner. The man, despite the blaring siren and flashing red light, was bored to the point of distraction. Dmitri could hardly blame him since the infirmary was nowhere near the exit-which was the usual intended destination for potential escapees-but such laxity necessitated punishment. He silently turned the corner and approached. By the time the young man noticed him, Dmitri grabbed his laser pistol with one hand and chopped him across his unarmored throat with the other.     Dmitri quickly recapped his plan. Escape from cell? Check. Armed? Check. Now it was time for phase three. Stalking carefully down the corridors like a hunted predator, he carefully considered his next move. He knew exactly where he was going; he knew exactly how to get there. He had studied this prison in the ten years that he was held here-a government trained assassin betrayed by his own employers. He vowed when he arrived that his time would not dull his killer instincts, and indeed he had only grown sharper.     Time was running short, though, and he would have to be at his next checkpoint before the director of the prison arrived, so he cut through one of the lesser holding areas. This one was more spacious than his own was, and it included a second level with a catwalk between the two upper sections. He was more cautious than he needed to be. Most of the guards had left the area to help search for him. Only two remained behind. They noticed him from the catwalk. One trained his riot gun on Dmitri while the other brought his hand up to his ear in order to activate the radio in his blue helmet. Dmitri shot him first. He wanted to delay as long as possible the realization of his true destination. The other managed to shoot once as his friend slumped to the floor of the catwalk. He missed as Dmitri rolled forward and shot him. He then continued on his way, ignoring the pleas of other prisoners who wished him to take them along. He would have set them free if for nothing more than the distraction it would have provided, but he lacked the means to do so and wasted no time wishing otherwise.     In the prison's long history, no one had ever successfully escaped. During his stay, Dmitri had already witnessed three attempts. Each of them had failed pitifully; after all, the Russian government had spent much money making sure that this prison would live up to its boasts of being impossible to escape from. Even given that, though, he felt the failures were due more to a lack of planning. He now arrived at the next checkpoint-and he was early. He walked up to an imposing steel door at the far end of the circular room and waited to the left of it. During an escape attempt all doors were locked automatically, and only an appropriately ranked officer with an appropriate computer card could open them. He now bided his time patiently, since he knew there were only two officers in this entire facility who could open this particular door, and one of them would have to pass through this area in order to get to his command center.     As he waited, Dmitri recalled one of the earlier escape attempts. Three inmates who had been part of a large robbery bribed a guard to let them out, promising to share the still hidden loot with him once they were free. With the guard's assistance and card, making it to the exit should have been relatively easy, but they didn't even make it that far. Their accomplice broke them out in the middle of his shift. Though outmatched, the other guards on duty delayed them long enough for the lockdown guards to arrive. The attempt was over less than five minutes after it began. If he had stayed behind and let them out as the other guards waited near the entrance for the relief shift, they could have surprised and overpowered them quickly. Thus armed, they could have also dealt with the next shift quickly and might have even made it outside the prison walls.     The whooshing sound of the opening door snapped Dmitri back to reality. He shot the director of the prison and his two escorts the moment they stepped through the doorway. Dmitri allowed himself a small chuckle. The director was worth nothing anyway-perhaps the commandant would be a worthy opponent. As he stepped past the dead bodies, Dmitri wondered exactly how shocked the director was that a prisoner trying to escape would actually be lying in wait at the door that led deeper into the belly of the beast. Door open and card obtained? Check. Just outside the doorway, Dmitri completed phase three-b of his plan. He shot a panel off the wall and severed one of the main fiber optic junctions, debilitating over half of the security cameras in the prison. He knew it was one of the main junctions because the low-risk prisoners who were sometimes allowed janitorial duties in this area had mentioned it. Now it was time for phase four.     Dmitri pressed on. The card would open a few more doors, but soon it would only work with a retina scan. And however much he relished the thought of carrying around the director's eye, he knew it just wouldn't work-not on the latest model of computer. He opened one last door and shot two surprised guards in the back. The power source on his small laser gun was now running low, but that didn't matter now because the men he had just shot carried much better weaponry than the man he had taken his laser from. Better weapons? Check. Dmitri moved on to phase four-b.     The small laser pistol made a clattering sound as it hit the paneled floor. Dmitri almost felt like grinning as he picked up two high-powered laser rifles-Government Issue. He was only one firefight away from his destination, but he needed to complete phase four-b in order to make sure he won. He shouldered his weapons, walked over to an access panel on the wall and ripped it off. Underneath it was some of the advanced circuitry and miles of power conduits that helped the prison's systems run. Naturally, Dmitri did not want to hinder the prison systems-that would be counterproductive because he needed those systems for phase six.     Dmitri's penetrating eyes traced the complicated circuitry. He spotted the primary power cells, which meant that the power cells for the back-up couplings should be behind the power regulators. Reaching carefully between two delicate boards, he removed two power cells from the back-up couplings. That way phase six would proceed normally unless something catastrophic should happen that required the back-up systems to be brought online-an unlikely occurrence to say the least.     Dmitri exited the room and continued down the corridor until he reached another access panel. He opened this one a little more carefully (but, more importantly, quietly). He moved his finger over the flexible tubes, underlining each of the Russian letters and numbers that identified them. He continued his search until he found the power conduit that fed the back-up systems he had just disrupted, then, tearing it from its place, he fed both of the cells more power than they could handle. Makeshift grenades? Check. Phase four-b was complete, and phase five was right around the corner.     Dmitri silently crept to the intersection and tossed his makeshift grenades down the hall. He heard a few shouts of alarm before the explosion. Restraining a chuckle, he now turned the corner-both rifles at the ready-and shot everything that moved. Phase six was almost at hand. Though feeling the anticipation, Dmitri shook his head a little, forcing himself to concentrate on the present. He was getting too far ahead of himself. He still had to get through the door before phase five was complete.     Dmitri had some inside knowledge on the retina scanner, though. One of his old friends had designed the photocell used by the retina scanners throughout all Russian prisons. She once confided that she had been unable to solve one small flaw before they were put into production. A bright flash of red and infrared light would essentially blind the electronic eye and, during a short time afterward, it would read any retina as a positive match. She had told her superiors, but they neither fixed it (because of time constraints) nor told the government (for fear of losing the production contract). One quick laser modification later and phase five was over-phase six had begun.     Before doing anything else, Dmitri locked down the door and then welded the seams shut with concentrated laser fire. He now worked feverishly to hack into the mainframe, which would allow him to access the teleportation pad that sat placidly in the middle of the room. A communication screen beeped as it activated. Dmitri looked up briefly. "Ah, commandant," he said, returning his attention to his work, "I suppose the video communicator operates on a different fiber optic line than the security cameras. You know, I was starting to wonder when you would pry yourself out of your office to deal with me."     "Dmitri? I should have known it was you," he retorted. "You would be the only prisoner to try to break out of a prison by breaking further in."     Dmitri scoffed as he continued to wrest computer control away from its rightful owners. Even now, the commandant obviously had no idea what his plans were.     The commandant leaned forward as he said, "It's actually quite smart. I have to give you credit since none of the other prisoners even know about the teleporter." He sat back and continued speaking calmly, "How did you find out about it? Friend on the inside?"     He didn't answer. He was too busy running decryption routines to break through the various passwords. However, he knew now that the commandant had only been teasing before.     "Of course you won't tell me, but I must admit to being mystified as to how you got past all of the guards in front of that room. There are five on a regular basis, and when the alarm sounds, that number doubles-just in case. Even if you had armed yourself to the teeth with the kinds of weapons our guards carry, they would still be too much even for a seasoned insurrectionist like yourself."     Dmitri glanced at the screen. The commandant was looking diagonally down at a screen, presumably tracking his progress against the computer.     "You'd need an explosive device. Something like a plasma grenade, you know?" the commandant said. "But smuggling in that sort of contraband is almost impossible. It would be much easier just to overload a power cell or two. They would explode shortly afterward just like a plasma grenade."     "I hope you intend to accomplish something with this inane banter. If you intend to distract me, you are failing miserably," Dmitri warned him.     "Oh, I'm just talking off the top of my head. Right now, I'm trying to figure out which power cells you would use," the commandant said. "If I had been you, I would have taken the power cells from the access panel in corridor four, section five. After all, it's the only one on the way to the teleporter room."     "And?" Dmitri asked. "Do you have a point with this? I'm in the middle of something here."     Unperturbed, the commandant continued as if Dmitri hadn't even said a thing. "Now, in order to overload them, though, you would need to sever a power conduit somewhere. According to my information, there are no power losses in the entire prison complex. You must have severed a power conduit for the back-up systems. This makes sense, of course, because you wouldn't want to cut power to that precious teleporter."     Dmitri stepped up his pace a bit. He had a bad feeling about where this discussion was headed.     "Hmmm. It seems you've managed to lock off all access to the prison core." the commandant noted.     "Which means that you cannot shut down this teleporter," Dmitri declared.     "Oh? I can't?" the commandant asked while Dmitri continued to work at the computer, now trying to unlock the teleporter control. "I think I'll cut the main power generators. That should do the trick."     Dmitri looked up, momentarily shocked. It was time for a bluff. "You are working on quite a few assumptions, commandant," he said. Then he grinned and shrugged saying, "Go ahead and shut off the main power. Just don't blame me when the back-ups for the holding cells fail to come online. You are prepared to deal with the resulting riot, I assume?"     "I feel pretty confident that you would have used the power conduit just down the hallway," he said, taking his turn to grin. "This would mean that the back-up systems you cut would only affect low priority areas. The main functions of the prison would remain intact until we can bring main power back online. And I believe that I need not mention that one of the systems affected by this shutdown would be the teleporter pad."     "You will not stop me!" Dmitri hissed. "I will change the world. Stopping me will be like trying to stop a force of nature!"     "Let's just see how well you do when your plan goes awry," the commandant said. The monitor blinked off. The room plunged into darkness, but worst of all the energy to the teleporter drained away.     "No!" Dmitri yelled, slamming his fists down on the console.     At least the room's computer was still functional. It would be able to run off its internal power supply for at least two hours; however, the prison guards would be upon him far quicker than that. He estimated that it would take them no more than fifteen minutes to cut through all the doors on this level necessary to reach him. He would have to work fast.     He rapidly finished gaining access to the teleporter control and programmed it with the coordinates he required. He also set it to delete those coordinates after transport and replace them with a different set. That would throw them off his trail if he could just think of a way to power the teleporter. He paced around the room for a while-accomplishing what he needed to do was easier said than done. Suddenly, a flash of inspiration hit him.     Dmitri moved to the teleporter and kicked off the now useless main power cable. He then dashed to another place in the room, tore off an access panel, and ripped out some heavy gauge wires. He knelt down in front of the pad and worked quickly. He set one of his laser rifles to overload and spliced the main power cell into the teleporter's power grid. In a few more minutes, which would work out to be microseconds before the explosion, it would provide enough power to teleport him outside the prison grounds.     Suddenly, a terrible screeching noise reached Dmitri's ears. He shot a look at the barricaded door. Sparks were coming off of it from where the guards were cutting through the reinforced metal. It would not take them long to remove this final obstacle. He jumped onto the pad and turned, anxiously fixating on the pieces of hot metal flying outwards into the cold air. He gripped his Communist Manifesto tightly in one hand and pressed it to his chest. He gripped his one remaining rifle in the other hand-he felt sure that he could complete phase seven with just one rifle. If he were a man who believed in prayer, he would be praying right now.     Just as the final inches of the door were yielding to the intense power of the laser cutter, Dmitri witnessed the dark and harshly metallic interior of the prison core transform into the glaring white, dull green and bitter cold of the snowy pine forest outside the prison complex. He was exuberant in his nigh triumph and thus allowed himself another grin and chuckle. Phase six-the hard part of his escape-was over, but after phase seven was completed he had to prepare for another mission, which would prove harder still. The rest of the escape would not be very difficult. Undoubtedly the commandant would send snipers after him, but he had developed almost all of the sniper and counter-sniper tactics taught by the government. They taught their classes out of textbooks filled with his articles.     Dmitri dropped to his belly and crawled carefully through the driving snow. He would be impossible to track in such pleasant weather. He was already beginning to plan out his next operation, which would culminate with the greatest robbery of all time. He had a few connections left in Moscow that he could count on.