Prison Break!

[DeletedUser]

Breakout team:
The year is 2010. You've been hired by a crime lord to spring his buddies out of the slammer. You work together. AS A TEAM. You each have a special talent. USE IT. The prison is New Alcatraz, it has the most advanced security system on the planet. You have to get his buddies out and quick. Then get them to him(Coming in Sequel). Tick tock, get going...

Prisoners:
You've been informed by your contact that your boss is trying to get you out. But you've got to pull your own weight. Figure out the prisons weakness and try to get as close to out as possible. Make the breakout teams job easier. At the least: Wreak some havoc and distract the guards...

Guards:
Memo:
You know your job is easy and hard at the same time. Because this is the best prison in the world it's hard for the prisoners to breakout but these are the most dangerous criminals in the world. Watch yourself. Usually the prisoners are pretty down but lately they've been riled up for no apparent reason. If one man escapes to civilization: YOU DIE! They are ruthless and will do anything to escape even kill...

Character Sheet:
Name:
Gender:
Personality:
Appearance:
Bio:
Occupation (Prisoner, Breakout team, or Guard.):
Specialty:
How you came to be on the team (If Breakout team.):
Why in jail (If Prisoner.):

Prison Stats:
Security System: Best in the world.
Guards: Deadly
Location: (Unknown to most.): Inside a mountain. (You pick which if you escape.)
Exits: 2
Occupancy: 40 prisoners. And an unknown amount of guards.
Building: A solid, square, metal building with an exit in the North and in the South end. The layout is a plus sign. The halls only connected in the center where the control room is. The Guards cots are in front of the exits. Supplies come once per week in a military escorted truck. Anyone who leaves without permission (Guard or Prisoner) is killed.
Meals: Brought twice per day on styrofoam trays through a slot in the back of the cell on a conveyor belt.
Air vents: A few small hidden ones.
Cells: Solid metal cubes with a small bed and a reinforced metal door (Code opened.) and a small toilet to *ahem* do your business. And a camera that covers everything except the toilet for privacy's sake.
Yard time: One hour period per day in the large cavern below the actual prison accessed through a trap door in he control room.

(Final notes: Regular forum rules but extra strict on the no sexual references and no swearing. Prisoners write in Impact, Guards write in System, and Breakout team writes in Arial Black. Have fun.)

Name: John "Deadman" Phalia
Gender: Male
Personalty: Ruthless and cautious and cunning.
Appearance: A pale man that is small and can fit into tight spaces. Is very athletic.
Bio: Was taught from a young age to be stealthy. Later grew up to be a high profile assassin.
Occupation: Prisoner
Why in jail: Killed many important people and was finally caught.
Specialty: Stealth

 

[DeletedUser25825]

Name: Sandra "Byte" Beach

Gender: Female

Personality: Quiet, cunning, photographic memory, highly intelligent, nerdish

Appearance: Byte is shorter than average for females, and lighter than she should be. Her brown hair is kept in a bowl cut style. A lifetime spent in front of computer consoles has resulted in such acute Hyperopia that she wears thick, 'Coke bottle' glasses, which give her green eyes a bulbous appearance.

Bio: Youngest of three children. Raised in middle class family as a latch key kid. Computers have always been her baby sitter. She began her "side career" doing simple hacks and creating noisome viruses for the joy of doing so. As she increased her skills, became known as Byte in the virtual world, and started selling her services to bigger and badder people. It was never for money, just the challenge.

Occupation: Prisoner

Specialty: Computer systems

Why in jail: Last "official" job, which Attorney General was able to prove at least, was cracking US military security database to retrieve intelligence for a domestic terrorist group.

 

[Deleted User - 819397]

Name: Mark "Xenon" Wells
Gender: Male
Personality: Quiet, withdrawn, utterly ruthless.
Appearance: long brown hair, constantly frowning, medium height and build. Glasses
Occupation Breakout Team
Specialty: Strategy
Bio: Mark has an incredibly high IQ. From an early age he was well ahead of his peers. However, he was born into a poor family, so college was an impossibility. After a tragic accident, Mark vanished into thin air. When he re-emerged from wherever he went, he had become a master of planning just about anything and had adopted the name Xenon since those with his talent were scarce, like the element he was named for. Xenon takes on any job that pays well enough, and has a perfect track record. Socially he is incredibly awkward, saying almost nothing not related to the job on hand. He operates his missions in a signature style. He doesn't tell anyone the whole plan, only their part in it. He does this since it simplifies the operation, as no one questions if the others are doing their part. They do their job and get out. Xenon is also known for his lack of morals. His plans are often illegal and dangerous. Oftentimes he has someone go somewhere that ensures they will be killed...the "bait" strategy. He also often kills the men he hires after the job is over with the idea that he then gets more money. He's surprisingly ruthless for someone so quiet.
How you came to be on the team: The Boss approached Xenon with a massive cash offer. Xenon accepted and is the head strategist on the team.

 

[DeletedUser]

Name: Jawid "Weed" Karzai
Gender: Male
Personality: Assertive, hot-tempered, cunning, tenacious
Appearance: 6'1" with a muscular build, bald head, thick black moustache and dark brown eyes, dark skin
Occupation: Breakout Team
Specialty: Combat, intimidation
Bio: Born in 1965 in Afghanistan, he joined the Mujahideen at the age of 17, four years into the country's bloody civil war. During the war, all three of his brothers and many of his friends were killed by Soviet troops and Afghan communists. After six years of fighting, he returned home, only to find that his village had been destroyed. Broken and desperate, he moved to America, where he found himself unable to hold a real job, and turned to crime to make ends meet, landing him in prison twice. He has committed far more crimes than he has been convicted of, many involving physical violence. His nickname, Weed, is obviously from the last syllable of his first name.
How you came to be on the team: The Boss noticed his intimidating stature and willingness to fight, and offered him a handsome reward in exchange for his services as a tough.

 

[DeletedUser13682]

Name: Ralph Toledo
Gender: male
Personality: ruthless, patriotic, loyal, cool under pressure
Appearance: think big, tall, bald guy, in military, strong looking, 1,000 yard stare, little emotion
Bio: Born in 1974, Ralph, for some reason, was sick of being an upper middle class, almost upper class, pampered boy who got what he wanted. Trying to explain this to parents got him nowhere, but a new toy that they thought he wanted. Well, Ralph got tired of this, and at the age of 15, ran away to where he thought the most adventure was, the US Army. Well, adventure he got, first getting sent to Panama in Just (')Cause, then Kuwait and Iraq as part of Desert Storm, then getting sent to Bosina, then to Afghanistan, next Liberia, during their second civil war, and finally to Iraq, where he was part of the last brigade to come out. After this, he was honorably discharged, and sent a letter from the prison, asking if he wanted to work there as a guard. Ralph, who by now couldn't get over being in the action, responded yes, and he recieved basic sniper training.
Occupation: Guard
Specialty: sniping, organising, commanding at a moments notice

 

[DeletedUser]

(Okay you can all start now.)

I had heard some news from the outside. The boss was breaking us out. But he needed our help. We had to get as close to free as possible without getting caught. Plan with the other prisoners if necessary but get out. Now knowing this I started to plan. I knew that the camera didn't cover the toilet so I started sneaking away the forks they brought in the lunches and hiding them under the toilet. Knowing they couldn't do much but something is better than nothing. So when lunch rolled around that day I told them to start gathering anything they could, even forks, so that we had something when it came around the time for a prison riot. Cause if we started one in yard time we could over take some guards and get up to the control room. If we could take over the control room and lock the others down in the cavern. All we would have to do is wait for the breakout team to take out the outer rim guards that would be trying to get into the control room. It was a flimsy plan at best. But not much else could be thought of after all this is the best prison in the world...

 

[DeletedUser25825]

Byte watched the activity of the prisoners with detached interest from where she lounged back on the cavern floor. The casual way she was propped up on her elbows, one leg draped over her other bent up knee, and head resting against the hard surface of the cavern wall belied the truth of her inner turmoil. She'd heard rumblings and rumors of a possible breakout, and she was trying to figure out how to make herself useful enough should an attempt be made to gain her ticket on the train as it were.

She began to idly swing her hanging foot back and forth as she studied each prisoners' actions and demeanors. She recognized several prisoners suffering through withdrawals. There were Cranks, Crackheads, Base Heads, Tecatos, and even Dopers, but she found herself suffering from her own form of withdrawal since entering this cesspool others referred to as reality. She felt her suffering was far worse than any of theirs because she craved something that no person could mule into the prison system. She wanted, and was experiencing a slow, withdrawn sort of death without, the internet.

She sighed as the thought of virtual reality once again crept into her thoughts as she looked around the inescapable cavern and felt another wanton pang stab her soul. She had to have it.

She reached into the pocket of her coveralls and pulled out a pack of crappy, generic cigarettes and a book of matches. She plucked one of her last sticks out of the crumpled, unmarked cardboard container and wrapped her lips around the end. She smirked as she ripped one of the flimsy matches from the book and studied it. One of the few amenities offered by prison officials was access to cigarettes and book matches. She struck the match against the strip on the back of the book before lighting her cigarette. She shook the match out and flicked it away from her as she recalled an extremely brief conversation with a guard concerning getting a lighter. She was immediately scoffed at by the guard who rumbled, "No you scum can't have lighters. No constant source of flame in the prison. We're not stupid", before he wandered away so full of himself for reminding a harmless girl of one of the dumber rules here.

She inhaled a long drag of smoke into her lungs, closing one irritated eye as the acrid smoke drifting off the end of her cigarette drifted past it, as she wondered why the prison system was so concerned about lighters, yet would give them access to phosphorous. Each prisoner was allotted two packs of cigarettes and one book of matches each month. She had realized long ago that it would take three months to gather enough phosphorous to possess an ignition source for an explosive device, if you were acting alone. If she could find more sources, or even dared riding with another prisoner or two, it could be overnight.

She exhaled the smoke and bumped the back of her head rhythmically against the wall as her thoughts were consumed yet again by thoughts of code and the tantalizing draw of unfettered access to any information she sought. She really wanted to get her fingers on a keyboard, and escape back into the world she knew best.

She took another drag from her cigarette and looked at the yellow crystallization calcifying around several joints of the several steam pipes which lined the edge of the cavern. The prison system pumped steam as the heat source for the prison. Byte recognized that, while it was not a pure source, the substance was most likely a sulfate. She lazily exhaled the smoke and lifted her eyes to stare at the ceiling.

There were cracks somewhere in the cavern, undoubtedly very high and small, but they provided access to a fair sized family of bats, the other permanent denizens of the prison. The floor was covered in their leavings and it made the whole free hour of activity somewhat unpleasant due to the smell. She dragged the sleeve of her coveralls across the bottom of her nose to itch it as she crushed her cigarette out. She slipped the butt into her pocket and stood up. She stretched and twisted back and forth in place. She began wandering toward the gathering area as the hour was nearly up.

She spied one of the guards watching the prisoners closely. She wandered toward him calling out, "Hey hack!", as she lifted her chin towards him in her form of greeting as he looked in her direction. "You ought to do something about this floor. It's getting so we can't even breathe in here." The guard regarded her for a moment before looking off toward two prisoners who were conversing close to each other as he retorted, "Fine Beach. As reward for your fine observation of the situation, you catch the detail. Clean it up as your free period tomorrow." She sighed and shrugged as she waited for the return to cell call out.

 

[DeletedUser]

I realized that plastic utensils weren't going to beat guns. But if we could find out some of the 10 guards down in the caverns phobias then we might be able to start to plan. Because if even one's phobia is fire we may be able to take them hostage with our matches alone. The hard part will be breaking through all the way up to the control room. We needed some brains in this operation I realized. Then I saw a solution. Everyday Byte just sat there thinking during yard time. But not thinking about random things like when in her cell, oh no. She was observing the cavern to see if she could escape. I knew she wasn't on the bosses "breakout" list but if she helped us I knew I could get her to help us plan.
"Hey Byte!" I yelled out across the "yard". "Come over her." I knew she realized we were trying to escape. She was to smart NOT to notice. "Would you be interested" I started lowering my voice to a whisper. "in helping plan an escape?" Suddenly a guard yelled out.
"Hey no whispering."
I yelled a quick, fake "Sorry!" back and then turned back to Byte. "So are you in?"

 

[DeletedUser]

"This has to be the most ed prison ever built!", Weed exclaimed, looking at the blueprint of New Alcatraz. "All this technology, guards and barricades for forty inmates? That's like a bank fortified with mines and barbed wire, with only ten cents in the vault! The commodity being defended is worth less than the defenses themselves!".

He envisioned at the mountain in which New Alcatraz was situated. Unlike the old Alcatraz, which was situated on an island further from land than most people could swim, the new one was on plan old dry land. An escapee in old times would also have to deal with the rough, frigid waters of San Francisco bay, the harsh currents always threatening to pull them out to sea, and not to mention, the bloodthirsty sharks that constantly patrolled the bay. And yet, New Alcatraz was on a mountain, surrounded by an area of land that anyone with basic survival skills could escape through. Sure, they were more visible, but they were still more likely to survive. Besides, if anyone escaped from New Alcatraz, there would be one more than escaped from the old one.

 

[DeletedUser25825]

Byte was pulled from her thoughts by a voice she recognized as belonging to John Phalia, a prisoner more appropriately referred to as 'Deadman'. She'd known what the papers all said of his past, but past didn't really matter here. Capabilities were the current food chain, and the knowledge that he was one of the top dogs, and that she was one of the bottom feeders, did not escape her attention. She dragged her hand across the back of her neck to still the raising hairs as he called out to her, while she walked toward him.

As she moved in the killer's direction, her mind filled with trepidation. So far she'd managed to fly real low of any given radar. She wasn't some big timer, or known amongst the population for anything other than being a mousey-looking piece of skirt that kept to herself and wasn't worth the second glance. Yet, here was Deadman calling out to her with her street name. She didn't think she rated to be known among other prisoners by her street name. She'd not shared it with prisoners, which she avoided, and the guards referred to all prisoners by their real surnames. She was known to Deadman somehow, and it made her visibly nervous.

She stopped a respectful distance from him and waited for the hammer to fall. What he asked her actually caught her off guard. She'd expected some far more sinister thing that he required of her, and admittedly more stereotypical between a male and female. So when he admitted directly to her that he intended on escape, which she'd already formulated, and needed her assistance, which she had not figured on, it threw her for a loop.

She frowned thoughtfully, not daring to look around even as her instincts told her to do when becoming involved in something others should not be privy to, as she considered her response. Deadman was too established to be a Jointman, and probably not setting her up for some manner of reprisals within the system. He was genuinely interested in including her. Her soul soared as thoughts of riding the super highway of infinitesimal data sources danced through her brain.

She had to play it cool. She had to appear interested, but not over eager. She had something he wanted, but had to feel it out a bit, and gain something in return. It was the way things had to happen if this all went to crap and they were stuck. Byte nodded as she pulled out her crumpled pack of cigarettes, pulled the top open and held it out toward him offering one of her last remaining sticks. She figured it could be conceived as a sign of respect to him, but she was aware they were always being watched and it would appear to anybody else watching that he'd demanded a smoke of her. She answered casually, "I've thought on it a bit here and there. Who hasn't really with all this time we got? What's in it for me in the meantime, if we click up on this?", as she pulled the remaining cigarette from her pack and grasped it between her lips as she looked at him questioningly.

 

[DeletedUser]

"Oh come on now." I said trying to sound disappointed. "I thought you were the smart one. You will get your freedom and my boss is very good at finding high paying jobs. And we go through people fast. So if you're looking for a job, well let's just say you'll always have one with us. And I know your right for the job. I pulled all the prisoners files before I got here I rechecked every week and you seem to be the most qualified for the job. So what do you say...partner?" I finished offering my hand.

 

[DeletedUser25825]

Byte studied Deadman for a few moments, her eyes looking near comical being magnified so much by her thick glasses. She answered, "I'm not really concerned with finding things to occupy myself on the outside. I am, however, concerned with what happens here." She sighed, looked around and removed the unlit cigarette from her mouth before dropping it back into the package. She lifted her eyes to look up at Deadman as she continued, "Look Mr Phalia. I know I'm not an anybody here and that makes it dangerous. You know how things work. There are two types of prisoners in this place. There are predators, and there are prey. I can quite comfortably state I'm in the latter category. If you want my help, I need things in return. Top of my list of wants is to have the word put out that I'm your sweet kid and that you're protecting me. All you need do is let that be known, and then tell me what you need me to do."

 

[Deleted User - 819397]

Xenon looked at Weed scornfully. His gung ho attitude wasn't exactly encouraging. Out loud he said "remember though, the prisoners inside are the worst...the ones that are true menaces to society." He turned back to the blueprints, memorizing them. After he felt he had them in his head, he closed his eyes. "The prison itself is designed fairly simply. The security is deplorably extreme, but the actual layout is not that sophisticated. We find a way to disable at least a section of the security measures, the actual course of events during the rescue should be straightforward." He opened his eyes and adjusted his glasses. "I believe one of the prisoners is an expert on all things technology wise..." He reached for a dossier on Byte and began to read. He was constantly composing plans, discarding them as he thought it wouldn't work. This was a true test to his abilities...if he pulled this off, he'd be a legend in the underworld.

 

[DeletedUser13682]

(Note: The views and opinions expressed in this thread are not necessarily the views and opinions held by the author. If any views and/or opinions conflict with your views and/or opinions, please take them up with the character himself.)

Very loud punk music was blasting out of a black and white M35 deuce and a half, carrying new guards to New Alcatraz. People who saw the newly iconic NA M35s thought they were used to transport prisoners. They weren’t, heavily modified Strykers were. If the M35s were used, the prisoners could escape easily, bringing their reign of terror to the United States, and opening the way for global anarchy. They couldn’t let that happen, so, to help prevent the escape of prisoners, a new batch of promising young guards was being transported to New Alcatraz, classified, classified, United States of America. Driving was SGM Ralph Toledo (US Army, Ret.), he had the most experience with the M35, driving them for a week in Kuwait, where the punk coming out of the M35 was the general anthem of Desert Storm. After passing through the various checkpoints, they made it to the drop off point, and Ralph ordered the new guards to get off his truck, and report to their instructor. Ralph was chuckling a little to himself about how hard they were going to get it from Instructor Blake Pilsner, (GySgt, USMC, Ret.). He dropped off the truck at the motor pool, and walked to his station.

There to greet him was the new weapon New Alcatraz had just gotten from the government, called an Assault Intervention Device, a downgraded military laser, causing the person the weapon is directed at to feel as if they were on fire, without being on fire, and without causing injury. Unlike the ones used at Los Angeles County, this one was operated on the spot by a guard, and lucky Ralph got to use it first. “Hey Ralph,” another guard, ex-SWAT member Jack DeLargo, said. “Looks like they got the new prison blaster in. Let’s see if it works.” Ralph shook his head. “Can’t do that. Higher ups find out that it’s been used, and I get the firing squad. Don’t worry, there’s talk among the prisoners that there will be a riot soon. We’ll get to use it then. Also, your station is getting one next week.” Jack laughed, smacked Ralph on the shoulder, and started walking off, saying over his back, “Can’t wait. Don’t worry, it’ll be put to good use. See ya later!”

A few more guards came by, generally saying the same thing Jack said, all getting the same denial Ralph gave to Jack. If his best friend in the guards wasn’t going to get to use it out of regulation, nobody would be able to. Ralph kept track of how many guards passed by asking for a test run, 28 passed by. Only 3 of them had a real reason to go this way. About an hour passed, and the time came to switch over from ‘runner’ gear, basic designated marksman rifle with standard uniform, to ‘yard riot’ gear, body armor covering chest, legs, and arms with helmet, looking more like a modern version of a knight’s helmet, over ballistic cloth, with a short sword, a collapsible billy club, Beretta M9, tear gas grenades, a sub-machine gun, and a riot shield within easy reach. All this gear was necessary for any riots that might happen, these people were fierce, and the guards needed as much protection as they could get.

Right when Ralph got back to his station, overlooking the ‘yard’, which in reality was a guano covered slab of rock, the guano was kept there, hoping that the fumes coming from the excrement would weaken the prisoners. Of course, that limited the protection of the boys actually on the yard, the necessity of gas masks meant that the ‘knight’s helmet’ was replaced with an M9 helmet, with a gasmask on the face. The dreaded on yard duty was usually given to recruits fresh from Blake Pilsner. Ralph remembered that assignment very well. The only thing comparable to it was being forced to play football in 120 degree weather in full CBN gear during Desert Shield. As Ralph watched the prisoners shuffle out, and released from their handcuffs, he began to wonder why the prisoners were given matches. Collect enough of them, and they could make a bomb. Of course, it was dangerous, but these people were the most dangerous criminals in contemporary American history, or else they’d be somewhere else. Ralph didn’t remember exactly what day the riot was supposed to happen, so he sent a message to all the guards, warning them to keep a higher alert, anything could happen.

 

[DeletedUser]

"Well, surely all that over-the-top fancy gear is controlled from somewhere", replied Weed. "If we can get your tech geek over to some terminal, he can probably short out something. Think there's any clues on these blueprints?". He gazed at the blueprints again, trying to find some indication of where the defenses might be controlled from. Admittedly, this wasn't his area of expertise. "I suppose just waltzing in, taking out the guards with hot lead and cold steel, grabbing our guys and hightailing it isn't quite sophisticated enough, is it?", he said, knowing that Xenon was likely working on an intricate masterpiece. True, he had a gung-ho attitude and it showed, but he didn't mind at all. In fact, he enjoyed it, to some extent. "I reckon we can estimate the number of guards. There's forty inmates, and in this prison we can assume there's about a 20/1 ratio of guards to inmates, so that's 800 guards".

 

[DeletedUser]

Name: Tony Morgan
Gender: male
Personality: quiet, aggressive,secretive, with a extremely bad attitude to people he don't like
Appearance: 6" tall 228 lbs, brown hair in military crew cut, blue eyes, broad shoulders has that look that screams military and dangerous without a doubt.
Bio: Born in 1980, he is pretty young but with a resume' that shows experience, honorable discharge from the MP's and a ex-L.A.P.D. SWAT officer he knows what he is doing. in the military he was special forces till a minor injury earned him a spot with the MP's and liked the job so much he kept it but L.A.P.D. just wasn't for him (to much Dept. politics) so he went to work for the prison
Occupation: Guard
Specialty: planning, hand-to-hand combat, expert marksman with sidearm and rifle
____________________________________________________________________

I was down in the yard with all the prisoners watching while they had their break, I couldn't help but think to myelf how I loved this job. i get a good smart mouth from time to time and even a riot at times to keep the things around here more lively but sometimes boredom just gets you, there is talk of another riot that aught to help my boredom. about that time one of the prisoners started whispering and I had told them to cut it out and got that smartelic sorry in return just sometimes I wished I could beat the life out some of these punks. I continued watching the prisoners while keeping and eye on the smart mouth I just knew he was trouble but as of now he just kept talking to the chick with the cokebottles on her face who doesn't seem like trouble so it might not be nothing.
(thanks pieboy for letting me join)

 

[Deleted User - 819397]

Xenon scoffed. "We go in guns blazing without a solid plan, we won't make it 20 feet into the prison. You may think I go for over the top plans, but I have a perfect record." Pointing at a room on the blueprints, he said, "The controls for most of the security are likely here, as the highest amount of security is focused here...they're really paranoid about that room, so the odds are I'm right." As he spoke, a plan slowly formed in his mind. It was dangerous, but then again most of his jobs were. He didn't let on though, as he wanted to analyze the possible ramifications. Instead, he turned to Weed. "How many men do you have loyal to you?"

 

[DeletedUser]

"That depends on your definition of 'loyal'", Weed replied. "If you mean 'loyal' like they'd follow me into a hail of lead and get their guts ripped out right alongside me, probably over a hundred, but as far as I know, they're all in Afghanistan". He pronounced "Afghanistan" in the Pashto style, with a phlegmy w-like sound for the 'gh'. "If you mean 'loyal' like they'd tag along because they're in on my deal, maybe five, tops. If you mean 'loyal' like they'd do my bidding, that's a big fat zero". He looked at the security schematics that Xenon pointed out, which only confused him the more he tried to make sense of them.

 

[Deleted User - 819397]

Xenon scowled. "Attempt to discern if any of the 100 are in the general area, and make sure the 5 are here. I'll need to know how many we'll have before I finalize the plan." Inwardly, Xenon was smiling as his plan took shape. He just needed to know how many he was working with, then it would be time to begin execution.

 

[DeletedUser]

Weed whipped out his beat-up old macbook and tried to locate some men he had known in Afghanistan. "This could take a while", he thought. He knew very well where the five where and how to contact them, but he decided that they were of a lesser priority. The 100 were hard to locate, since many Afghans had no birth certificates. Of the few who were visible, most were either dead or in Afghanistan. Eventually, the name Shaya Hamidi came up, and Weed recognized it as one of the men who fought with him in the Mujahideen. He turned to Xenon, and said "hey Xenon, I just found a guy who might've moved to the US. It's gonna take a while to track him down, and frankly, I'm not so great at that. I'm sure The Boss knows somebody who is, though".