by Tom Barber
And how they’d taken advantage of both him and her.
THIRTY NINE
Inside USP Gatlin, C Block was in its second day of lockdown and misery had company. The inmates were doing what they could to pass the long hours in their cells; some were reading or working out by doing pushups, sit ups or squats. A few were eating foods they’d already had in the cells, either from the commissary or previously smuggled out from the kitchen, other prisoners not so lucky feeling the effects of twenty four hours without anything to eat. A few were just standing with their arms resting on the bars or lying on their bunks, waiting, the clock ticking at the same pace it always did. One second, one minute and one hour at a time.
Alone in his now one-man cell, Rainey had been watching COs and law-enforcement coming and going from the gate through his barred window. He couldn’t tell from this distance if the guys with badges were State investigators, US Marshals or maybe even FBI, but neither they or the guards had come into the block yet today. The total lockdown was being observed, the punishment carried out to the letter: no showers, no meals and no yard time. He was expecting a visit eventually though, being Nicky’s cellmate. Especially if they’d discovered by now that a motorcycle chapter had gotten him and the injured girl over the Ohio-Pennsylvania border.
Prez had been tracking the news of the Gatlin Four on his smartphone, a text option enabled so he could watch the coverage in silence, and had just seen the report of this latest roadblock getting blasted on Station Road in Pennsylvania. He’d known it wasn’t the kid even before he’d read that the Loughlins and Lupinetti were being held responsible, but Nicky had been seen in PA too, north of that location in the city of Erie, and according to the latest on the ticker had taken a doctor hostage who’d been rescued by a SWAT team, Nicky and the girl escaping just ahead of police.
So his celly had managed to source treatment for the wounded woman, which was smart, and he was getting closer and closer to Canada, which is where Prez knew they wanted to go. But now kidnap as well as armed robbery? The rising heat he was facing was only going to become hotter and wherever he was, Nicky would soon be running on empty.
Speaking of which, the battery on the phone was down to 22 percent, and Prez was about to turn it off when a number he didn’t recognize appeared on the screen. The biker moved his finger to answer, but then sensed a trap; it could be the prison staff or a cop or investigator who’d somehow gotten this number and were testing to see if Rainey answered while under lockdown, which meant he definitely had a phone hidden in his cell.
But it might be the kid, he thought, remembering the desperation in Nicky’s voice when he’d called from that garage in Cleveland needing help.
Rainey decided to risk taking the call, and discovered he’d guessed correct.
Inside the Gatlin guards’ locker room and break area, some of the guards assigned to C Block were watching a TV while waiting to be interviewed by State investigators. ‘Gimme a call. Or you’re. No friend,’ one of the COs read quietly, the red lettering scrawled across the side of the gray SUV found in the lot in Chautauqua County. ‘The hell does that mean.’ As he spoke, the captain and warden both walked into the room. ‘You see this, Cap?’ the CO asked.
‘No, but I just heard four more cops, two Penn State juniors and a pregnant woman got wasted by our boys.’ The captain walked closer to the screen, seeing the graffiti on the car. ‘They did that too?’
‘Looks like it.’ The CO looked at one of his colleagues. ‘Williams thinks it’s a code.’
‘Getting a message to a friend to call them,’ the captain replied. ‘Don’t need my high school diploma to crack that one.’
‘You know these guys are always trying to communicate without us understanding what they’re talking about,’ Williams said. ‘We’ve all seen the letters they get from the outside that don’t make no sense. I remember hearing over at Big Sandy, one of their COs stopped a gang hit on a judge ordered by one of the inmates after decoding a message hidden in a letter.’
‘So?’
‘That habit of looking for word-games sticks. I catch myself looking for codes in things I read.’ Williams pointed at the screen. ‘Take the last word of each sentence. What does it say?’
‘Call you’re friend,’ the captain said. ‘Doesn’t make sense.’
‘Does if you say it out loud. And the bad spelling makes it less obvious. Not sophisticated, but it’s still a message.’
‘A message to who, Williams?’ the warden asked. ‘That doesn’t help us. It could be anyone.’
‘Police aren’t just looking for Brooks and Billy, right, sir? The reports from Cleveland said the two brothers, Frank Lupinetti and Reyes were all at the robbery at the intersection yesterday. They broke out of prison, got past all the roadblocks, then met up to hit the truck. Now they’re separated again.’
‘You think they’re trying to communicate with Reyes?’ the warden replied. ‘Through the news?’
‘If they’re split up and even if they got hold of cell phones, it’s unlikely they have each other’s numbers,’ Williams answered. ‘If they don’t have a scheduled rendezvous point, this would be a good way of getting a message to him. I think they might be telling Reyes to call his friend, whoever that is. He’s got too many braincells not to keep up with the news giving the latest on the hunt for him and the others. He’ll see that message.’
‘He didn’t have a lot of visitors during his time here,’ the warden noted. ‘No-one apart from the girl since the very early years of his sentence. I’ve looked at the logbooks. He’s been in this prison for a third of his life so won’t be likely to have a lot of friends left, especially on the outside. And I didn’t think he was close with Brooks and Billy?’
‘He wasn’t, but who knows what’s changed if money’s involved, sir?’
The captain suddenly slapped the shoulders of two of his boys, his face changing. ‘Make yourselves useful. You’re coming with me to C Block.’
‘What is it?’ the warden asked.
‘I got a feeling who this friend might be.’
‘How do we tell that to the Loughlins, kid?’ Rainey asked, Nicky having just told him that he wanted to trade bags with the brothers. With the holdall Kat had ended up with, the other she said she’d dropped which she’d seen one of the brothers pick up as she ran from the heist shootout, and the graffiti making sense if using the same code that Nicky and Kat often employed during her visits to him at Gatlin, the kid had guessed the message on the SUV that he’d caught on the news was meant for him. ‘You said you lost the cops. Don’t start taking risks exchanging bags. Just run with what you got and get over the border.’
‘This money isn’t hers, or the jewels. We keep them, we keep more heat. She just wants what’s hers.’
‘You finally got some daylight between you and the police. That won’t last. Make the most of it.’
‘I will, but she wants back what belongs to her.’
‘So how do we get a message to those two?’ Prez asked, recognizing his celly wasn’t going to budge. Same as this past Thursday afternoon in the yard, when together they’d first started planning his escape.
‘When you got up at chow to get a message to Janks the other night, Wesley told me the Loughlins had made a deal with Boyd Hennigan to keep them posted on what was going down in the prison once they got out.’
‘Why would they care?’
‘Insurance. We know Boyd’s been looking for payback against those two ever since they put him in the hospital last year. Wes said he’d agreed to take out Kattar and Hoff once lockdown’s over if Brooks and Billy didn’t manage to do it before leaving in the truck. Brooks didn’t want them talking. We both know how dumb Billy is and Brooks must’ve been worried he might’ve told them about Cleveland and their plans afterward. No risks. Boyd’s in C Block and he’s got a cell phone. I’ve seen him use it.’
Prez looked out of his cell down at Hennigan’s. Boyd was in for nine years for arson, having set
a courthouse in Savannah on fire, but the man was also a suspect in a couple of other fire-bombings that detectives back home in Georgia couldn’t make stick. Two people had been burned to a crisp in those fires, so there was a reason why Brooks and Billy would have chosen him to make sure Hoff and Kattar ended up on a slab. They knew Boyd had no problem with killing, even if cops on the outside couldn’t prove it.
‘Speak to him when they let you all out for a shower and chow. He can pass a message from me to them.’
‘You can wait that long?’
‘Can you get his attention sooner?’
Prez went to his door and managed to draw Wesley’s focus; he pointed and mouthed Boyd. Wesley went to his bars and got the guy’s attention, then said something that made him look up at Prez’s cell.
The MC president made a phone shape with his hand by his ear then pointed at Boyd; the convicted arsonist nodded, before Prez then made a writing motion. Boyd understood and started signaling him his number, Prez taking a pen and book he was reading before scribbling it down on one of the inside pages. ‘So if they want a trade, how you think you’re gonna make it out alive from the exchange?’ he asked Nicky, picking up his cell again.
But before the kid could answer, Prez heard a door below open, before footsteps echoed on the gantry leading up to his tier; Wesley had shifted focus from Boyd and was quickly making the screw motion with his hand to Prez.
‘Shit, call you back,’ he whispered, before hurrying to hide the phone.
When the captain and two guards he’d brought with him reached the cell, they found the biker lying on his bunk reading a Tom Clancy novel, only looking up at the three men when they unlocked the door.
‘What happened, boss?’ he asked. ‘Is lockdown over?’
‘Get up and step out,’ the captain ordered, sliding the door back.
Rainey closed the book and did as he was ordered. Without another word the captain and CO Williams each pulled on gloves before yanking the top mattress off the upper bunk. One officer then ran his hands along the frame of the bed while the other examined the thin mattress for any cuts or incisions to serve as a hiding place.
Rainey was forced to stand still and watch silently as they began to pull apart, strip and search the entire cell.
FORTY
‘Where is it, Prez?’ the prison staff captain asked, once the shakedown was completed. The cell had been turned over, but nothing found.
‘Where’s what?’
The captain pushed him against the wall and started patting him down again. ‘The phone. I know you got one.’
‘You’re wrong. I don’t, boss.’
The captain checked him all the way to his ankles, then stopped and looked back at the cell. It occurred to him there was one final place they hadn’t checked.
His eyes shifted upwards and he looked at the light fixture.
‘Williams, take a look,’ he told his CO, who climbed up onto the top bunk. The captain glanced back at Prez, whose expression had changed slightly. ‘You wouldn’t mind, right?’
Prez didn’t answer, his face remaining hard to read. Williams unclipped the plastic covering and reaching up, felt around inside; a few seconds later, his hand came back, covered in dust.
But that was all.
The captain’s temper snapped. ‘Take him to the SHU.’
‘The hell for?’ Prez argued. ‘I didn’t do anything apart from stand here and watch you guys!’
‘For pissin’ me off.’ Before he could say another word, the large biker was hauled out of C Block, other inmates calling out to the guards to end the lockdown already, as the MC president was taken through to the SHU. He was shoved into a bare cell, bolted in, then heard the doors outside shut. He knew they’d probably pull his now empty cell to pieces looking for the phone. They’d be wasting their time.
But throughout all this, valuable seconds had been ticking by.
Prisoners were assigned basic canvas shoes to wear when they first arrived at the prison, but could switch or upgrade to sneakers if they had them sent through the mail or carried out enough prison work to be able to buy some themselves. Prez had always stuck with the canvas option, not bothered much about his footwear, but that wasn’t the only reason; right from the jump, he’d been especially interested in the flexibility of the fabric. He’d realized that with care, things could be hidden inside.
Easing off his canvas shoe, he pulled out the phone tucked under the sole; he’d deliberately chosen that particular smartphone as it was one of the smallest available, allowing it to be more easily hidden, but the screen was now badly cracked, despite him arching his foot as best he could to try to keep his weight off it. However, the phone was still working and he saw a text message had come through. After quickly saving Boyd’s cell number, hoping he’d remembered the sequence right from when he’d quickly written it down, he moved away from the door to stand under the tiny window above his head before calling Nicky back, keeping his eyes and one ear on the door.
Nicky, Kat and their hostage were still in the barn in upstate New York, Barry tied to a beam now he’d finished eating, when his phone lit up with an incoming call. After Rainey had hung up so suddenly earlier, Nicky knew better than to call him back and that he’d have to wait for the biker to make contact again, if he could.
‘Boyd signaled me his number and I sent him a text saying you’re willing to trade,’ Prez told him. ‘You were right, kid. Call your friend was a message meant for you. He just came back saying the Loughlins have agreed. They gave a location.’
‘Where?’
‘New York State Fair, 9pm. I just checked it out online. Tonight’s the last night so it’s gonna be busy in there. Probably why they chose it.’
‘The COs still been sweating you?’
‘I’m in the SHU. They just tore our cell apart looking for the phone. I hid it under my sole. They still might find it if they strip me or take me to the showers.’ He paused. ‘Janks says hi.’
‘I’m sorry, man.’
‘Eh, I could use some quiet time after the riot. And you got bigger things to worry about; Brooks and Billy said you bring your bag, they’ll show up with theirs, but you won’t just be able to walk into that place with that much cash over your shoulder.’
‘I’ll work that one out. Can you keep that phone off to keep it charged? I’ll hit up you again later.’
‘How’s the girl?’
Nicky looked at her, asleep on a blanket on a pile of old hay with the coconut water IV still attached. ‘Better, I think. Save that battery.’ Ending the call, he rose, bagged up their leftover food, and tossed it into Barry’s Audi along with their empty water bottles; he then went back and removed the makeshift IV from Kat’s arm. He picked her up and carried her over to the car, covering her to the upper chest with the blanket before placing the bag of money on the floor beside her.
And then he turned back to his hostage, whose heart started hammering; Barry knew whatever this was, it was about to end. Nicky walked down on the man, who was staring at him in fright, but instead of pulling the handgun or Leatherman knife, the Gatlin escapee reached past him and tested the binds that were tying the scared salesman to the beam.
‘I’ll be listening to the news,’ he told Barry. ‘They haven’t found you by later tonight, I’ll drop call 911 and tell ’em where you are.’ He went back to the man’s Audi and Barry watched as he unloaded the boxes of pet food before placing them on the ground. ‘Have to borrow your ride, but wherever I leave it you’ll get it back. Sorry you missed your conference.’ He reached into his pocket and took out a couple of hundred dollars, same as he’d done for the doctor earlier in the day. ‘For the suit,’ he said, walking back over to tuck it into Barry’s pocket.
‘The police will ask me about what happened. I’ll have to answer. Please don’t come after me.’
‘No-one’s gonna be coming after you. Good luck, man.’ Nicky paused. ‘Sorry for you that we met.’
Then he turned
and walked out of the barn. Moments later, Barry watched his car leave, kicking up dust in the afternoon sun which slowly settled back to the ground before all went quiet.
As Reyes drove away from the barn, checking the traffic updates on the map on the smartphone in his hand, Archer was looking at his own primary cellphone which had finally turned back on, dried out and functioning again after his dunking in the river in West Virginia on Friday night.
Sitting on a plastic chair outside an auto-shop in a quiet area of Chautauqua County, the tires on the NYPD Ford inside being replaced, he was waiting for updates from Cleveland on Marquez. It sounded like she’d escaped her attempted killers without severe consequences, but he knew bangs to the head could be fatal with delayed hemorrhaging or swelling on the brain. Richie had described the hotel room as being chewed to pieces by suppressed sub-machine gunfire, Archer’s colleague barely escaping with her life by going out of that window and landing first on an awning and then a car below. And whoever had tried to kill her had been experienced enough to get in and out without being seen or apprehended afterwards. She’d been in Cleveland less than three hours and then to be attacked like that? To piss someone off in the city that fast would be impressive, even for Marquez. Or him.
So did someone follow her there from Virginia, or New York City? He immediately dismissed the thought. There wasn’t a chance that she wouldn’t have noticed a tail. He rose off the plastic chair and walked across the quiet lot away from the auto-shop containing the second car in his charge damaged by gunfire in twenty four hours. He was doing nothing to dispel the reputation he’d built for himself in the Department as the last man you’d ever want to lend a vehicle to; in fact, with the two cars getting pieced up, the hotel room he’d booked back at Cleveland being torn apart, barely making it off the extradition bus alive before being forced to jump off a bridge and then getting shot at during the armored truck robbery, he was making a good run at being the most uninsurable man in America.
