Ethan ran out of the Warden's office, the almost empty whiskey bottle in one hand and the envelope with the transfer letters in the other. The guards, who were accustomed to Ethan's frequent visits, looked at him strangely due to the urgency, but dared not stop him.

He reached his cell and yelled desperately: "Jason! José! Antonio! Come, now! All of you!"

All 25 allies he had gathered came out of the adjacent cells, their faces serious due to their boss's alarm.

"We're in deep shit, guys," Ethan said, his voice tense. "This is going to get ugly. You must be careful."

He quickly explained the contents of the envelope: "Vance is moving to take me out. Your sentences have all been reduced to minor offenses, and they are moving you—all 25 of you—to a state prison in Oakwood."

Everyone was thrown off balance. "But isn't that good, Boss?" asked José, incredulous.

"Have you ever heard of anyone getting this treatment?" Ethan retorted.

They looked at each other and shook their heads.

"Exactly," Ethan continued. "This is a trap. The move is designed to strip me of my protection. I stay here. You leave. And the most probable scenario is that you won't arrive alive at the other prison. Why else would they move all of you together out of here and reduce your sentences? Do you believe in Santa Claus?"

The 25 men were not stupid. The situation was ridiculous; they were practically being released. They began to murmur, understanding that Ethan was right.

"What should we do, Boss? We can't leave you unprotected," asked Jason, his voice tight with concern.

Ethan ignored the concern for himself and focused on the legal loophole. "Jason, call Old Falcon. Have him send people to escort the convoy. I doubt they'll make it in time; we are too far from their reach, but any attempt helps. Also, dictate these numbers to whoever answers. They are the folios for the sentence change documents. You must protect them at all costs—they are the only record that this happened. If they get lost, the sons of bitches will bury it as if it never occurred, and you'll stay inside."

While Jason made the call and moved away to speak quietly, the rest of the 25 allies began to scramble: they dressed, took their few belongings, and mentally prepared for the confrontation.

Jason returned with a tense expression, nodding. "Stone said you're right. He got the folios and said we must know this: no matter what, you must arrive at Oakwood prison. If you flee, it will be categorized as an escape, and it will ruin the value of the documents."

"Stone is correct," Ethan said. "This transfer, this sentence reduction, is a gift—an 'error' we can use against them. We won't report the corruption; instead, we exploit the mistake to claim you've served your time and must be released without having committed any new illegal action they can use. It is the only way to free the 25 cleanly."

Ethan looked at José and Antonio, who stood at the front. "José, Antonio. No one flees. If one of you runs, they will ruin the plan, and it could mean all of you stay imprisoned much longer. You have to arrive at Oakwood, no matter the carnage on the road."

"Boss," José said, striking his chest with his fist. "I swear by the Virgin that no one will flee. We would rather die fighting than ruin your plan. The 25 swear we will kill anyone who tries to run."

All 25 allies nodded their heads, their eyes burning with loyalty and adrenaline.

Ethan nodded, his face grim. "Listen closely. Final orders: when you get to the truck, treat the guards like your best friends. Tell them I'll pay whatever is necessary for everything to go smoothly. But if, on the road, the escort convoy disappears and they leave you alone, that is the signal. That is the signal that everything has gone to shit. And at that moment, you can open your gifts."

"Boss, I'm worried about you," Jason said, his voice full of desperation. "What will you do?"

"It doesn't matter who comes," Ethan replied, his expression utterly cold. "I will kill them all. I'm not worried about them trying to kill me; in fact, I've been waiting all this time so I can play with them. Don't worry about me. I will be fine."

At that moment, dozens of guards arrived. Ethan looked at the one in front, the ranking officer, and gave him a subtle, almost imperceptible signal. The guard looked back and gave a coded hand signal: Everything is fine.

Ethan turned back to his men. "It's time. I want everyone to be well-behaved. The one who messes up, I will personally kill."

The guards formed them up and pretended to put on the handcuffs. The inmates immediately realized something was wrong, but Ethan quietly warned them: "Don't say anything. People are watching and listening. Just follow the protocol."

The guards placed the cuffs on their wrists but did not secure them. Each man gripped the handcuffs as if they were locked, but they were completely open.

"Form a single-file line, you worms, and march!" the lead guard barked loudly. "If anyone dares to try anything, they will die! The weapons we have are real, not the rubber ones you are accustomed to!"

The guard's words seemed routine, but they were a clear warning: there were observers, and the guards were carrying live ammunition, meaning they had to be careful and allow for no mistakes.

The 25 men, led by Jason, advanced slowly, escorted by the guards toward a black armored bus. They were all settled into the seats. Only five guards boarded the bus with them, while all the others boarded eight additional armored vehicles that would form the escort.

As the five guards got on the bus, they exchanged tense glances.

One of them addressed the inmates directly, his voice low and urgent. "We are in the same shit as you, just so you know. If they try to kill you, they won't let us survive either. So from now on, we are in this together—we either all die, or we all survive. Don't think for a moment that you can get out of this alive without us."

The guards looked at them and added one more thing. "And just so you know, we are on the same side now. We work for Ethan and we are on his payroll. So we expect you to treat us like companions, and maybe we'll survive today so they don't screw us over."

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