Our jet took off, and finally we seemed to be free. I didn't like the 'cost' of this, but this was the last time I would do anything like this. I was deeply ashamed of myself. Not being strong enough was probably the worst detriment a human being could have in his entire life, and not a single person on this gods forsaken planet would be more aware of that fact than me. Warden Gramps, after realizing the situation, turned around, and walked back into the complex. It was a sour 'victory' for us, well, for me.
As far as Francis and Caleb seemed to be concerned, this was a clear victory. Something that had to happen this way, and I couldn't blame them. We got the information we needed, we stirred up the prison, and got away with only a few wounds. It should've been optimal, yet it didn't feel that way. I felt defeated. I was once again weak.
