Sam stepped back from the cell door, watching Yorick do his work as he plotted the next step, the part that involved him. Get weapon in Sam's hands. It was their only chance, but slim. Natalya couldn't run, not in her condition. Maybe they could carry her, but they'd need clothes at least to last in the wilderness. And those soldiers would be coming back from checking their gear soon. It was all or nothing.

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath. Ten, twelve, fifteen hours. No way Natalya would last that long at this rate, not if those men came back knowing she'd lied. No, better to go out fighting.

"There's a chance," he said. "There's a chance that if we-- when this is over, we wake up on the island, right?" he said, looking from Natalya to Yorick. "It does this, doesn't it? Sends you home and you're really just sleeping?"