…

Z is for Zoo.  It seemed that who’s who in the zoo was about to be very much a statement.

…

There’s the easy way and the convoluted way to go to jail. 

The first, the easy way, commit a crime, hand yourself in, plead guilty, and the justice department will be falling over themselves to frogmarch you to the front gate

The hard way, trying to create a foolproof backstory with official evidentiary documents, to take you seemingly from one jail to another without raising suspicion.

Of course, it was never my intention to become a felon, but people are sometimes so stupid they don’t know when to back off.  And, of course, we are trained never to ‘lose it’ under any circumstances, but I did.

In front of about a hundred other prisoners who made very reliable witnesses.  He was kind of popular, so that made my continued presence in that prison untenable.

Hence the move.  No trial, an extra twenty years, I should see the world outside again when I was too old to enjoy it.

I would have time to contemplate the mistakes of the past for a long time.  Or not.  The prison I was going to was notorious for chewing up and spitting out newbies in their system.

I had a name, Louie.  It’s best not to call him that, I was told.  He was the one to look out for.  There were another hundred or so, all varying degrees of Louie-like danger, so my hands would be full for a while.

Along with six other new prisoners, we were taken inside.  There we were given the once over by the warden, whose expression when he looked at me was the very definition of hatred.  Then he had three of the guards drag me into a room up the passage. Special treatment, he said with a smile, that told me it was not a special I was going to like.

Once onside with door shit, two professionals, the guards beat me with their batons.  Bruises, abrasions, and barely able to walk, I rejoined the others, who all looked the other way lest they incur the same wrath.

An hour in the dispensary, then taken to meet my new best friend, it was the greeting I expected.

The guard stopped me outside the two-bunk cells that I would get to call my Hilton hotel room.  My roomie was lying on his bed, odd since he should be out on the exercise yard with his friends, but I was guessing he was going to lay down the ground rules.

“Your new roomie, Dyson.”

He glanced over at me, then at the guard.  “I’m paying the single rate.”

“Not any more.”  The guard nodded at me to go in and shake a plain to the empty bed.

This is going to be interesting.

I took a step towards the bunk, and he was out of his bunk and standing in my way.

I looked him straight in the eye.  “This can go two ways, Dyson.  You keep standing there, and I get to stake a few weeks on solitary.  Since I’m used to it, it’s no skin off my nose.  But you, you might not walk again, or maybe this time I’ll see if I can rip your arm off and beat you with it.  Lasy guy, I tried to prove it could be done, but he died.  You know where I’m from, and you know why I’m here.”

I made it menacing enough.  Most of the men in this jail didn’t frighten easily.

Tyson looked at the guard. 

“My money is on the fact he’ll do it.  Plenty of you idiots who don’t know when to leave well alone.  I’ll turn around so I can say I didn’t see who started it.”

Which is what he did.

Tyson backed down and sat on his bunk.  “Louie isn’t going to be pleased.”

“Not trying to please or displease anyone.  All I want is a quiet contract and to be left alone.”

And knowing that was never going to happen.

“Get along, Dyson.” The guard said, just before he left.

After I threw everything on the bed, not that it amounted to much, and certainly nothing worth stealing, it was time to get some air.

The cell was quite stuffy, and Dyson wasn’t the cleanest of men.  I might tell him later, when he is a little more friendly.

“Which way to the exercise yard?”

“Follow the passage to the end and turn left.  You’ll see it.”

“Don’t like exercise?”

“Don’t like the inmates.  You’ll see.”

I’m sure I would.  As far as I was aware, Louie had my resume, and when I read it, it was impressive.  Mostly enemy soldiers, but there were also a few who were not.

I came out into the sunshine, and when the others out there realised who it was, they stopped and glared at me.  Not in a friendly manner.

There were two waiting by the entrance, ready for what? Were they expecting trouble?.  I could see the man called Louie on the other side, sitting on the bleachers, his acolytes around him.

The two men were almost beside me when they stopped.  One of the left, short, obese, and sweating badly, said, “You have an appointment.”

The one on the right looked menacing.  He was in trouble because he had his hand in his pocket, so there was a ship, knife or another weapon there.

Np point in giving him an excuse to get beat up.

I shrugged. “I don’t remember making one, but if you say so.”

He nodded in the direction of the man I thought was Louie.  I shrugged again and walked.  Slowly.  If things went south, I needed a strategy.

Of course, there was never enough time.  We were standing in front of him.  No matter.  He was intent on ignoring me because he could.  He was the boss.  I’m not sure how or why.

A minute passed, then two. 

Never the patient, man, I said, “Listen shit for brains, you make an appointment you keep it.  I’ll count to three, and if your head’s still up your ass, then I’m going over the other side.”  I waited a few seconds, then said, “One.”

He glanced at me.  To do otherwise would lessen his prestige.

“Two.”

He smiled, then turned.  “Have you noticed people are always in a hurry?”  He said it to no one in particular.

“To fie,” I said.  “Yes, they are. I’m sure you don’t want to be one of those, do you?”

The smile turned to a frown.  “You should be more respectful.”

“Respect us earned, not given or expected.”

I saw the imperceptible nod to the enforcer and was ready.  Disarmed and arm twisted out of its socket, he was no longer a threat.  I threw the shiv over the fence, outside.

The enforcer hadn’t made a sound short of a grunt, but he stayed down.  No one else moved.

“Sorry.  I needed to verify who you are, Stanson.  The best of the best now is the best of the worst?”

“Whatever.  You’ve had your fifteen minutes.  I’m going over there,” I pointed to the bench on the other side of the compound.  “And rest in peace.  I won’t be so kind to the next fool you send.”

“As you wish.  But we still have to have words.”

“Then call my secretary and make an appointment.”

A final look at the red spots growing on his cheeks, and I walked away.  No one followed me.  It was not a victory, just a minor delay before he came back.

There had been a plan, and when I heard it, I sat back and laughed.

It was anything but a plan, except if I wanted to die before one day had passed.

Everyone knew who ran that prison. 

Louie.

And to get what they wanted, which I didn’t know about, simply because if I did and was captured and tortured, they would discover who was behind this charade, they needed to neutralise Louie

And the three attempts so far had failed spectacularly, and in the process had alerted him to what they were trying to do.

I told them it was a mistake.

They then made me an impossible promise, one I knew they would never keep because they knew I would not see it through.

I was surprised I got to see Louie, so perhaps one aspect of this mission might be true. Louie was scared, not of me, but of someone else.

The question was, who?

I pondered all of these questions in that dank gold called solitary confinement.  I was there firstly for my protection, no other prisoners were allowed near me, and secondly, I could not be seen to get away with harming another prisoner.

Then I heard the outer door being unlocked.

An unscheduled visit. 

Could it be that there was someone else in the prison who was facilitating a host, and not a friendly one?

There was no hiding spot in the cell, so all I could do was be ready if the guard was hostile.  A figure loomed out of the darkness into the dull glow of the low-wattage globe illumination and space in front of my cell door.  It had been the only light I’d had for days.

“Good.  You’re awake.”

My contact in the jail, the one whom I was to go to, if I got into trouble.  Why was he here? He was not supposed to approach me.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

“There’s an opportunity.  Louie has been taken to the infirmary.  He will be alone.  You have 30 minutes to do what you have to.”  He dropped a bag on the other side of the door, then opened it.  “Change of clothes and tools.”

“Afterwards?”

“You disappear.  As promised.”

There were so many holes in this plan. I didn’t know where to begin.  “Who put this on motion?”

“The same person who put Louie in the hospital.  You’re wasting time.”

Three minutes to freshen up and change, then along the passage and up to ground level.  Out one door and in the next, along another passage, and we were outside the infirmary.  Another four minutes.

A nurse was sitting at a desk, with monitors on three beds with prisoners.  The middle one was Louie.  My guard pointed to the middle door on the other side of the passage we were standing in.

The monitors blinked, the screens went fuzzy, and then came back on.  Replay, so my presence in his room would go unnoticed.

He knocked and went into the room with the nurse.  I didn’t wait to see what he was going to do.  I crossed to the door and listened, then went in.

He watched me warily as I closed the door.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said.

“Why?” I crossed to his bed.  Handcuffed.  Precautions.

“You’ve come from Alexander, haven’t you?”

Alexander was the crazy man who made promises he couldn’t keep.

“He is crazy.  I told him that.  And yet here I am.  You know why I’m here?”

“He blames me for Forrester’s death.  I had nothing to do with it.”

“Then why are you on a video, clear as day, shooting him in the back of the head.  An execution.  You said he was a traitor, and traitors get their just deserts.  To you, maybe, but not his country.”

“And you’re going to execute me?”

He didn’t deny it, which he strenuously did in court before they found the video.  There had been a camera, but it was broken.  Someone else had installed another, one not so obvious, and when we reviewed the recordings, it was clear why it was there and had led to a dozen other arrests.  The footage of my brother’s death was collateral damage.

“It was my first thought, but you need to suffer.”

“He didn’t if it’s any consolation.  Just what does it have to do with you?”

“My brother.”

“You look nothing like him.”

“Well, that’s as much I’m going to tell you.”  I pulled the hypodermic syringe that was also in the bag of clothes and jabbed it into his leg.

Less than a second.  Justice.

“What did you just do?” 

“Give you a lifetime to reflect on what you did.”

I gave him a last look, the serum starting to work, relaxing all of his muscles, and in about ten minutes would completely paralyse him.

If he was lucky, they would recognise what had happened and give him the other syringe sitting on the bedside table.  It wouldn’t unparalyse him, but it would make it so he could live, only with full-time care. He could not move or speak, but behind that mask, his mind would be active, and he could play over and over the actions that got him there.

Justice for murdering my brother.

And this prison was now free of his influence and threats.

Did that mean I could take over?

No.  It simply meant I’d repaid a debt and was now free. 

My prison contact returned, took me out the back way through an unknown passageway, built secretly at the time of the prison itself, there in case the warden and his family needed to escape, when a car was waiting.

To go anywhere I told them.

…

©  Charles Heath  2025