The Cost of Commitment - KJ2

by Lynn Ames

  “Yes.” Jay nodded, her head still throbbing painfully. “Yes, I do.”

  “Do you need to go rest, child?”

  “Perhaps that would be a good idea.”

  “I will come and check on you in a little while.”

  Jay thanked the healer and retired to her quarters. She thought about what the woman had said. A spiritual and potential telepathic connection was something she and Kate had discussed before. In their worst times, each of them had felt the other’s pain. So was the medicine woman right?

  Was the headache somehow connected to Kate?

  She checked the time. 6:59 a.m. That meant it was 8:59 in Albany.

  She dialed their home number and waited as the phone rang four times.

  The answering machine picked up.

  “Kate? Are you there? Hi, honey. I miss you so much and I’m so sorry about what happened the other day. I just want to talk to you, to tell you how much I love you, and to hold you in my arms. Well, I guess you’re not there. I’ll try you again in a little while. Bye.”

  Jay intended to rest for a few minutes, then try Kate again. She noticed the television at the foot of her bed. It had been almost a week since she’d had a chance to watch the news. Although her head still throbbed painfully, she felt a need to catch up on the world’s happenings.

  She flipped channels until she found CNN, mentally shaking her head at the incongruity of ancient tribal traditions mixed with the modern conveniences of cable television, heating, and air-conditioning.

  Her attention was immediately captured by the urgent tone of the anchor and the flashing crawl across the bottom of the screen that proclaimed coverage of a breaking story. When she heard the word

  “Attica,” she turned up the volume.

  Over the next eight minutes she sat shell-shocked as David Breathwaite outlined the situation inside the prison. This couldn’t be real.

  There had to be a mistake. When a picture of Kate flashed across the screen with the word “hostage” below it, Jay gasped and struggled for air. After several moments of stunned inaction, she reached for the phone again, punching in Peter’s number from memory. There was no answer.

  The Cost of Commitment

  “Damn it. Somebody tell me something.” She jumped up and went to her bag for her address book. “J, J, J...Ah, there it is, Jones.” She dialed Barbara’s unlisted number.

  “Hello?”

  “Barbara?” Her voice sounded tight.

  “Jay, is that you, honey?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank God. Where are you?”

  “I’m on the Navajo reservation near Four Corners.”

  “How fast can you get back?”

  “It’s true, then?”

  “Yes, honey, I’m afraid it is.”

  Jay’s hands began to tremble, her legs suddenly unable to support her weight. “When? How? Is she all right?”

  “Slow down, honey. It happened around 7:30 a.m. our time this morning. Some inmates jumped her while she was on her way out to give a briefing to the media. I just talked to Peter a little while ago. He’s out there.”

  “Thank God.”

  “He says he’s got a copy of the videotape from the control room that shows her being taken. He says she was definitely alive and fighting in the video. But, Jay, she got beat up pretty bad.”

  Jay gasped, her free hand flying to her temple, which continued to ache. “Oh, Barbara. I’ve got to get to her.”

  “I figured you’d say that, and so did the governor. Peter put him in touch with me to coordinate getting you to Attica. We just need to know exactly where you are, Jay. The governor gave me his private number and told me to call him as soon as we located you. He wasn’t sure, based on our description of where you were, whether you were going to be in Arizona or New Mexico. He has talked to the governors of both states, and both have agreed, as a favor to him, to make their aircraft available for you.”

  “The governor did all that?”

  “Sure did. Says he has a weak spot for you and Kate. So get me the coordinates, and a helicopter will pick you up and take you to the airport.”

  “Barbara, did Peter say how badly she was hurt?”

  “It was impossible to tell, honey.”

  “Okay.”

  “One thing at a time, Jay. Let’s just get you out there. Then we’ll figure out what happens next.”

  Lynn Ames

  Kate slowly floated toward consciousness. The first thing she noticed was the smell: it was a powerful combination of dried sweat, stale urine, and mustiness. There was a constant din from above, and she tried in vain several times to open her eyelids in order to find the source of the noise. When she finally succeeded, she almost wished she hadn’t. The cell in which she was housed was ten feet by eight feet by eight feet, with a stainless steel sink and toilet bolted to the floor. The single mattress on which she lay was thin and threadbare. The concrete floor was dank and cold. The only light she could see was from a window across the gallery.

  The sound she had heard was made by the large heating ducts overhead.

  She took stock of her body. Her face felt like it had been used for a punching bag, which, she realized drolly, it had. Her ribs ached and every breath was agony. She tried to shift to a sitting position, but a sharp pain in her left arm made her collapse back onto her side. She looked down.

  Her wrist was hanging at an odd angle. It could be worse, she told herself.

  Gradually, she became aware of voices raised in anger nearby.

  “I say we off her now and get it over with. That was the deal we made, we stick with it.”

  “No way, man, I want to get me a piece of that bitch before we finish it.”

  “What’s to say the man’s gonna come through in the end? I don’t trust him. Why is we doin’ his dirty work, anyway? Why didn’t he do her on the outside? I’s thinkin’ he’s gonna welch and we’s gonna get stuck with the rap.”

  “You saw what he did for Tweety. Got him sprung in no time flat. I say we take our chances with him. We ain’t getting nowhere on our own.”

  “You saw what he said on TV, they’re coming after her. And when they figure out we’ve got the three guards, we’re done for. He didn’t say he’d get us off for that.”

  “They’re for negotiating purposes. We’ll let them go as a gesture of goodwill if it comes to that.”

  “I don’t care about the rest of you, I’m gonna get mine.”

  Footsteps began to approach. Kate could see a shadow fall over the bars.

  “Unlock the cell, man, and let me have at her.”

  A second inmate loomed in the darkness.

  “Leave her be.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with a little fun. Lighten up.”

  “That is not our way.”

  “Speak for yourself, you self-righteous, Sunni scum.”

  The second inmate lunged for him.

  The Cost of Commitment

  “Stop!”

  A smaller man with a goatee stepped between the two combatants.

  “Fighting amongst ourselves will serve no purpose. We do not defile her. Until we can see the lay of the land better, she remains unspoiled.

  Antoine, I will let you know if and when you may, as you so delicately put it, have at her. Now step away, both of you.”

  Reluctantly, the two shadows receded. The man who seemed to be in charge approached the bars. “Ah, I see that you are awake.”

  Kate said nothing.

  “I want you to know that this is not personal on our part.”

  “No, of course not.” Her words were somewhat mumbled, as she was unable to fully open her swollen jaw.

  “This is not our battle, but as it affords us a potential way out, we must proceed.”

  “By killing me? Fighting other people’s battles is considered a coward’s way where I come from.”

  Kumar laughed. “Ah, I see you have some spirit. I cannot disagree with you, but when one is trapped in th
is land of the forsaken, one sometimes has to make choices and do things that are against one’s innate nature.”

  “That’s a very high-minded rationalization for kidnapping and murder. Is it worth it?” She took notice of his appearance. It was obvious to her that he was a Muslim. In the prison population there existed two groups of Muslims: the Sunnis, who adhered to the traditional, more peaceful tenets of the religion and culture, and the more radical, angry Shiites. From his demeanor and choice of words, Kate figured him to be Sunni. “Do your teachings cover this sort of situation?”

  “I will leave you now. Rest assured that as long as I am in charge, you shall not be used as a diversion. We will do only what we must. No more.”

  “Thank you. That’s very comforting to know.”

  Kumar walked away without a backward glance.

  Well, Kate thought, at least I have more information now than I did before. It’s clear that someone outside is calling the shots. And that it’s someone in a position of power, since he referred to an opportunity to get out of here as being the motivation. She snorted derisively. Let’s take three guesses who that might be.

  Why on earth would Breathwaite want her dead? Wasn’t that a little extreme? Surely there were less drastic ways to accomplish his goal.

  How did he hope to get away with this? Why was it so vitally important that he come back to DOCS? She wanted to ponder these things further, but her head hurt so much she was having difficulty focusing. As she closed her eyes against the pain and unconsciousness claimed her once Lynn Ames

  again, she thought of Jay, her beautiful face shining brightly like a beacon.

  The five CERT team leaders, the prison superintendent, Paul Monroe, Randy Garston, David Breathwaite, and William Redfield were packed into the tiny makeshift command center.

  “Sir, we’ve ID’ed all eight inmates. They’re all from D block, ten company.” Max Kingston handed each man a folder with the eight dossiers in it.

  “Wonderful. Four murderers, two rapists, one bank robber, and a kidnapper. Lovely crew.”

  “We’ve also identified the three officers on that tier who haven’t responded to any radio contact.” A second set of folders made the rounds.

  There were grim faces as the men looked at three young, fresh-faced officers, all with wives and small children.

  “They are all relatively inexperienced. For two of them, this is their first posting.”

  Redfield glanced once at Breathwaite, contempt and accusation in his eyes.

  Garston picked up the briefing. “The Technical Services Unit is on-site. Now that we’ve narrowed down the hostages’ likely location we can send tech in with the fiber optic equipment to pinpoint the exact coordinates, then come up with a course of action.”

  Unable to muster any good argument against the plan, Redfield gave the go-ahead.

  “Report back directly to me at ten bells sharp. We’ll reconvene once I have all the facts.”

  Governor Hyland arrived unannounced at 9:17 a.m. He did not go directly to the prison, stopping instead at a nondescript motel some three miles down the road.

  “Brian, Peter.”

  “Governor, sir.” Both men stood.

  “I know it’s a bit unorthodox for me to consult with you two before my own team, but the truth is, this is no time for protocol. What we need are results. Redfield has been on the job for less than a month, and there are lives at stake.” He looked from his old friend to the technology expert on whom he had relied so many times during the course of his tenure in office.

  The Cost of Commitment

  Former DOCS Commissioner Sampson said, “Governor, sir, if I step in at this point, it will undermine Bill’s authority and add to the tension and confusion.”

  The governor appeared chagrined. “Understood. I’ll ask you to stay here, though, so that I can continue to consult with you as needed.” When Sampson looked uncertain, Hyland added, “Brian, I chose you as my commissioner for a reason. That hasn’t changed. I trust your knowledge and judgment and I need you with me now.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  The governor turned to Peter. “My understanding is that you’re available for hire as a consultant. Is that not so?”

  “It’s so.”

  “In that case, consider yourself hired.”

  “What is my exact role, sir?”

  “I want you in charge of the rescue operation.”

  “As you wish, sir.” To himself Peter added, Well, that makes things much easier.

  “Let’s get going. There’s no time to waste.”

  “I’ll be right with you, sir. I just need to gather my gear.”

  When the governor had walked out the door, Sampson asked Peter,

  “Are you going to tell him about the bug in the command center?”

  “Not yet. I’m not convinced we’ve heard everything we need to hear yet. I’d like to keep that as an ace in the hole—see if there’s anything more to be gleaned from future conversations. I have a sneaking suspicion there’ll be more to this before it’s done.”

  “In that case, I’ll keep listening and recording at this end.”

  “Thanks, I’d appreciate that. The more evidence, the better. I’ll check in with you when I can.”

  “Peter?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Bring them all out safely.”

  “That’s my goal.”

  “It’s against every policy we have. Absolutely not.” Redfield was sitting behind the sergeant’s desk in B block.

  “You want those three officers out of harm’s way or not?”

  Breathwaite leaned forward, his hands splayed on the opposite side of the desk.

  “Of course.”

  “The object here is to kill Kyle and extract them safely. I’m just giving you a way to get that done.”

  Lynn Ames

  “It will impact the way DOCS handles hostage situations for years to come.”

  “At the moment, Willy, we don’t care about anything but this specific hostage situation, now, do we?”

  Redfield chewed his lip. He could not live with himself if those three officers were lost on his watch, but his options were severely limited. He had spent the last half hour trying to come up with some way to extricate them without bringing Kate out. It would look far too suspicious to allow the inmates to keep a member of the management team while letting the others go free.

  But what if Breathwaite was right? What if he could position it to appear that the inmates would agree only to let the three guards go in exchange for sending in a reporter with a television camera? Maybe that would be a reasonable explanation.

  “Okay. I’ll get the Inmate Liaison Committee in here to make it look legitimate. We’ll have them present the offer to the eight inmates. Do you have a way of contacting them directly?”

  “Don’t go through the ILC. I have an ex-inmate I’m working with.

  I’ll have him give them the instructions. I’ve got him stashed nearby. If he goes in there, they’ll know the order is coming from me.”

  “If I don’t use the ILC, it might raise more questions.”

  “If you do go through them, there’s no guarantee the eight will know where the order is coming from. Not only that, but it means involving more inmates in the plan. I don’t think that’s wise, do you?”

  “I haven’t liked the plan from the beginning. This was your insane idea.”

  “Insane or not, you’re stuck with it now, Willy. It would behoove you to make the best of it.”

  Kate slowly became aware of her surroundings once again. This time the noise level was much greater. She could hear groups of inmates fighting amongst themselves, and she struggled to make out their words.

  “Man, you keep your filthy hands off my shit. If I catch you in my cell again touchin’ my props I’ll kill you.”

  “If you was any good at killin’, asshole, you wouldn’t be in here.”

  She could make out the clear sound of a skull hit
ting concrete and other bodies running in the direction of the sound. There was shouting and a loud whistling noise.

  “Cut the crap. We don’t have time for this.”

  “Who died and put you in charge, Kumar?”

  “Do you forget that it was I who liberated you? I could just as easily have let you rot in your little holes.”

  The Cost of Commitment

  “You got a plan for getting us out of this place?”

  “I have gotten you this much freedom. The rest, I’m afraid, is up to you.”

  Kate could hear footsteps coming closer; she closed her eyes and feigned unconsciousness again. The footsteps paused in front of her cell, then moved past and receded in the distance.

  After several moments, when she was sure she was alone, she opened her eyes and surveyed her surroundings. Judging by the movement and sounds on either side, it was clear to her that she was in the middle of a tier. She knew from past visits to Attica that each tier had only one exit, located at the end opposite the lock box that controlled access to the cells. The exit, or go-round, was the only way out, as far as she knew, and she imagined the inmates had done something to barricade the door from the inside. It was hard to fathom how, even if she weren’t injured, she could get out of her cell, elude forty-two inmates, make it to the go-round, and escape the tier.

  She could only hope that help from the outside was on the way. She thought about Redfield. Were she and Peter right? Was he working with Breathwaite? It was obvious that Breathwaite was not working alone and that Sampson’s coerced resignation was tied to bringing him back to DOCS. Installing Redfield must have been intended to clear the way for that to happen. Add that to the incident with Marisa, and the conclusion seemed a logical one.

  Kate sighed. With Redfield and Breathwaite working together, was there any chance that she would be rescued? Or that an attempt would even be made? She thought about Jay, and her heart lurched wildly in her chest. Would an angry conversation be the last memory Jay would have of her? The idea made her nauseous. She would not allow her lover to know the kind of regret and guilt that she herself carried with her every day.