Who: Chase and Noah, then Simms (and maybe some input from the other guys in their block if people want!) Where: Their Cell When: Late morning and onward
Lying was bad. Lying to your girlfriend was worse.
Chase trusted Kiley, probably more than he trusted anyone. What he didn't trust was the network, and whoever was behind it, watching their every move. Explaining that he had a plan wasn't really going to do anyone any good, especially if he wasn't entirely sure if Kiley would be more relieved or worried that he did. Honestly, he wasn't really sure how he felt either.
It had taken him a few minutes that morning to figure out what he had at his disposal and what was possible to do with it, and in doing so he'd sort of neglected Noah in the beginning while his mind worked. No doubt they'd been thrown together because, there was no denying it, Noah made Chase feel a bit uncomfortable, even now. He had enough sense to know that it wasn't really anyone's fault, and that he knew no one was doing anything wrong, but that little voice in the back of his head, the one that prodded at him to remind him that Noah was probably a heck of a lot cooler, more appealing, more experience, more attractive wouldn't go away.
But it did shut the hell up for a while as Chase did what Chase did best.
Under the guise of mentally shutting down, or pouting, however whoever was watching wanted to take it, Chase secluded himself in the bottom bunk under the covers for a while. If Owen had access to a security room with cameras, and the situations were reversed now, chances were probably good that They'd given Simms a similar setup. Either way, doing anything too suspicious in view of those artificial eyes wasn't something he was about to test. He worked as subtly as possible, laying on his side and facing the wall as he pried the back cover off of his phone and used it to strip the ends off of his charge cord, exposing the wires. When that was finished, he typed out a long message on his phone without posting it, then left the cord under the covers and the phone hidden against the pillow. He then used his best roleplaying skills to get up off the bed and begin pacing the cell, doing his best to silently relay to Noah that he should claim the bottom bunk, knowing that he'd find the phone there. Bringing Noah up to speed on the plan in that manner, and in subsequent messages, was far easier than Chase could have hoped. On top of all the other attributes Chase's jealous little brain awarded the man, Noah was quick to catch on, and willing to help. There was no denying the dangers they were inviting, but it was worth it to try. Because somewhere in this place were the people he cared about, and one demented maniac likely holding a grudge.
Simms had come by that morning to drop off what was probably a mandated breakfast of some sort. It had taken a hell of a lot of self control to keep his mouth shut and his act together, especially as the expected taunts ensued, but he'd focused on how long it took from the sound of the door opening for Simms to appear, and again as he left. That had been a few hours earlier, and Chase suspected that lunch would probably be expected around noon. He'd been pacing around the cell to both keep up the appearance of being increasingly agitated, and because it helped him to ebb off some of the nervous energy. This could end badly, and if it did he was dragging Noah right along with him.
"Alright," Chase said finally, breaking the silence as a cue that the game was about to start. He inhaled and exhaled loudly as he turned toward Noah. He pictured a disgruntled Kratos in his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as his jaw clenched and ticked, glowering as he folded his arms over his chest. "This shit is bothering the fuck out of me, and I'm tired of wondering about it. What the hell's really going on with you and Kiley? I'm not a fucking idiot."