Challenge accepted, bitch!
Lenox licked the cut on her lip, her mouth opening slightly like she might say something. Again, Piper fought the urge to pull back. There was nothing the Reaper could say. Lenox dropped her eyes to her lap and fidgeted with the half empty bottle. There was something there Piper couldn't place. Sadness, or regret maybe? She told herself it didn’t matter. It was too little too late. Lenox would just have to deal with the consequences.
Don't be ridiculous, that monster isn't capable of feeling.
Piper may not be a trained killer but she could play just as dirty.
After a moment, Lenox dared to look back up and Piper did her best to shoot a death glare her way. If there was any remorse, Piper wanted to exploit it fully. A bonus on her mantle before she brought the Reapers down as her piece de resistance in her scandal film. With any luck, the Reapers would find themselves front and center, out of a job, or better yet, behind bars where they belonged. Lenox looked away again, and Piper smiled as she moved on.
As she continued down the hall, she pulled up a message box to Archer. "I don't care how you do it...I want the Reapers." She sent the text and smiled.
"You okay?" Ortiz asked ahead of her, pausing at the officer's break room.
"Never better."
Ch 28 Lenox
Vega was considered an old dog in MAX years. Right up there with Jenkins. Apart from being significantly older than most rookies, they'd spent a few years as officers. And it showed. They'd seen and done it all. At least, that's what they'd have you believe. Lenox knew better. They were lazy, crabby bastards. Never wanting to get their hands dirty and always tricking or forcing the young rooks to do their shit for them. At least Vega was slightly less of a crooked asshole than Jenkins.
Slightly.
Vega sat in a simple metal chair, his legs propped up so his heels rested on the wall. He was reading a worn out, ancient magazine that looked like it might turn to dust at any moment. Well, probably looking at pictures more than anything. No doubt he'd taken it from an inmate or found it in the run down prison library. Lenox wasn't quite sure why The Tank still had one. It wasn't like the inmates were scrambling to read on their down time. Call her crazy, but she imagined staying alive and watching their back was a step above ancient literature on their priority list.
Vega glanced up at them, sighed, and turned a page.
He looked genuinely put out to see them. Not that he ever looked pleased to be in their company. Lenox was sure he knew the feeling was mutual. Outside the prison, they fought but inside both parties tried to put the hatred aside long enough to let them all survive. It was a relationship that seemed to work, mostly.
Lazy piece of shit.
"Evening boss," Brevek said in a sarcastic greeting.
Vega grunted without looking up.
Brevek shook his head and opened the gate, holding it for Lenox. She stepped out onto A block and Brevek followed, securing the gate behind them.
Lenox patted her thigh out of habit. Double checking for the two throwing knives she kept in a hidden sheath. Her plan B, in case shit got out of hand. The Tank was a tier 3 prison, easily manageable, but she never went in without them. Better safe than fucked.
Her attention was caught by Brevek shoving a ghosted inmate away by the face. Definitely a newer player. Stupid enough to think he'd get the jump by waltzing right up to them. They were all fairly new players, they just covered the stupid spectrum. For a Reaper, The Tank was a damned vacation.
Lenox headed for the stairs while Brevek moved along the ground level. They had a system. In a tier 1 prison, they'd stick together, watch each other's backs, but they could easily handle anything The Tank threw at them. So they split up.
She could easily spot the greenlit inmates not being played. They usually hid in their cells and stayed clear of Reapers. It never failed to amuse her, the way they scattered like cockroaches when they saw her coming.
She made her way to the end of the row and slowed down when she spotted a group of three inmates smiling and cracking their knuckles as she approached. Did they have to be so stereotypical about it? Where was the creativity? A little out of the box thinking? Some sort of challenge would've been nice.
Lenox sighed and started running. She lowered her shoulder as she charged. The one in front ran at her. She easily sidestepped him at the last moment and rammed her shoulder into the next inmate's chest. He let out a hilarious grunt and crumpled backward onto the mezzanine. She leaped over him and kicked out at the last guy.
He stumbled but came back with a few clumsy punches that she easily ducked and dodged.
It's like they're not even trying.
With his last punch, she dropped to one knee and grabbed his wrist, letting his momentum carry through. In one swift movement, she pulled his arm to the railing and had him cuffed to the bar with a binder in seconds.
He swung awkwardly with his left hand as he tried to get back in the fight but she'd already moved back to the other two.
One got a shot in, a sloppy blow to her side. It hurt but more like a bug bite than anything, a minor annoyance, just as easily forgotten. When she had the two close together and nearly lined up, she threw herself at them and body checked them into a nearby cell before slamming the door.
"The fuck?" A greenlit inmate said and jumped up off the bed, backing up into the far corner. "Hey, hey you can't leave them in here!" He shouted at her.
She hadn't noticed the guy before.
What the fuck is wrong with you?!
He must've figured she'd leave him alone if he made himself scarce. The two ghosts turned on him quickly. She doubted he'd make it out. But that wasn't her problem. It wasn't her job to protect him. If he wanted to live, he'd find a way.
Relaxing she walked back to the furthest cell, easily dodging the cuffed inmate's wild, unskilled swings. She fought the urge to shove him over the railing.
It would be so easy.
The sound of snapping bones like a Symphony playing to her heart. It would have to wait.
Through her Jack, she optioned x-ray vision and a few others. In a blink, her left eye faintly overlaid it. She remembered a time when the switch made her nauseous. How it had been so disorienting, it had taken several minutes to get used to before she could move again. Now, it was just second nature. What the human body was capable of adapting to, never stopped amazing her.
The range was limited but she’d heard rumor, there was an update coming the near future, with any luck, it would remedy that. She wondered if MAX Corp would be willing to front the cost for such a pricey upgrade. Somehow she doubted it. Just look at the second-hand bullshit they gave their prison staff. Second-hand was probably a little harsh. They did give the officer’s new equipment, it was just usually older models, probably priced to move, clearance stuff manufacturers wanted to get rid of. They did, however, seem to spend a little more on the ones that signed up for MAX. Maybe they'd surprise her and spring for the upgrade after all?
Lenox almost laughed out loud.
Yeah, right.
Lenox opened the metal cupboard and scanned through its contents. A few razor blades tucked here and there among the inmate's belongings. A very common find. Lenox smiled to herself. She'd be more worried if she didn't find anything.
She pulled out the blades and continued the search. A few joints were tucked around the back edges of the toilet. She pocketed those. Call it a perk of the job.
The rest of the cell was clean.
She moved on to the next cell, vaguely aware of some ghosts several cells down, circling, waiting for their chance to take her. She wondered if their players were collaborating? Some snot nosed teens talking over their game links, plotting her demise. They probably thought they were so badass, she’d love to meet them on the street.
She tossed the blades to the ground floor and watched as Vega slowly climbed to his feet and steered the collection drone through the block. He moved the small drone up and down the flo
or, systematically collecting the tossed contraband. It had to be the world's most boring, bullshit job. God forbid he actually get his hands dirty or even bend over.
Lazy bastard.
In the next cell, she quickly found more blades. No surprise. The inmates in the cell must’ve been new, they hadn’t even taken the time to properly try and hide the damn things. That or maybe they just didn’t give a shit. Too cocky to care. She glanced around the room and spotted something inside the mattress. Pulling a knife from its sheath at her thigh, she swiped at the cloth and pulled out a small baggie of Jackcrack and a porn magazine.
She laughed and traipsed back onto the catwalk as she quickly thumbed through the mag. Without looking, she tossed the small baggie over the railing for Vega to collect, when his fat ass got to it.
Another ghost had gotten brave and crept closer. She kept him in the edge of her vision as she shouted.
"Hey, Brevek?"
The ghosted inmate was only a few steps away. She kept flipping through the mag as he charged. She stepped back and stuck her foot out. The idiot tripped and crashed to the floor.
"Amateurs." She shook her head and waited for the inmate to get back up.
So predictable.
She scanned the inmate while she waited. He had a shank tucked into the front of his waistband. Continuing her scan, she noticed a small balloon between his ass cheeks. From the initial scan, it was difficult to say if it was just between or actually inside the inmate’s rectum. She laughed. Vega would love that.
The inmate grabbed for the railing, trying to pull himself back up as she pulled out another binder and secured him to the bar. She imagined the asshole playing him, cursing her out, trying desperately to break free and get back in the game. The thought made her smile. Lenox pinned him against the railing as she confiscated the shank and tossed it over the railing for Vega to collect. Through her neuro-link, she flagged the inmate for a further—more in depth—search.
Easy money.
She stepped just out of his reach and leaned over the railing as Brevek peeked out from the ground level.
"You're favorite...Nudie mag." She shook it at him. "Vintage too." She couldn't help but laugh.
"Ghost or green light?" Brevek asked, motioning for her to drop it.
"Green light, for sure."
"I don't know, some of these players are odd bastards," he said as he caught the mag and thumbed through it.
"A little virtual self-lovin'?" Lenox asked as she kicked the bound inmate's legs out from under him as he inched closer. "Can't get it in real life so they're going to jerk it in the game? Sounds pathetic to me."
"Stranger things, my friend. Stranger things." Brevek shrugged as he flipped through. "Oh wait, page 16 ain't bad." He laughed.
Lenox casually shoved an approaching inmate into another. "You're a sick man."
"Nothing sick about love," Brevek shouted up to her.
"Once is curiosity, twice is perversion." Lenox held the inmate by his uniform, using him as a shield from the other. "Remember that."
"You saying, you think I'm a pervert?"
"I'm saying..." She shoved the pair hard, letting the inmates trip each other up and peeked back over the railing. "I know, you're a pervert."
Brevek laughed and tossed the mag on the pile of confiscated contraband as Vega prepared to make another sweep.
"Got ya something extra nice there, boss."
"Fuckin’ dicks. " Vega grumbled as he cleared the pile.
He wasn’t fooling anyone, the mag would never make it to the recovered contraband locker.
Beneath her Brevek's laughter echoed off the concrete. Lenox joined him as she moved on to the next cell.
Ch 29 Anthony Ortiz
Ortiz leaned back against the wall and took a drag from his cigarette. He'd had two in the last thirty minutes, not typically his style, but being stuck on lock up duty with Jenkins wore on him.
Shit, probably smoke the whole damn pack before the shift was over.
Jenkins stood across the corridor, watching a few inmates return to their cells. The block was near deserted. Most greenlit inmates couldn't wait to get back to the relative safety of their cells. Far better to have to defend yourself against one bunk mate than a pack of ghosted ones. Ortiz could see the logic in it. Hell, he'd probably do the same thing. One ghost was definitely more preferable to a horde.
He took another puff and tried to tune his partner out.
"I'm tellin' ya, she's into me," Jenkins said with a shrug. "Women can't help it. Better than Jackcrack.”
He was talking about Piper. Had been for the last twenty minutes. The guy was starting to sound more like he was trying to convince himself. There was no way she was. Piper had better taste than that. At least, he hoped she did. Piper and Jenkins had been spending a lot of time together but Ortiz was almost positive it had more to do with Jenkins mouth than any romantic notions.
"I mean we see each other all the time. The danger, my mysterious physique...women eat that shit up. She can't help herself, ya know?" Jenkins said glancing at him over his shoulder. “I'm like...pussy crack. They can't get enough.”
Ortiz rolled his eyes and thought about crushing guard's soul. Instead, he took another drag and stayed quiet. They were almost to the end of their shift, he didn’t need to pick a fight.
Big dumb idiot.
"The heart just wants what it wants, ya know? I read that somewhere once, I think. Chicks dig that shit, ya know. A man that reads...shit, game over brother. Tough luck my friend."
Ortiz clenched his jaw a moment then took another drag. It was looking like he might finish a whole damn pack after all.
"What was the last thing you read? Do you even remember? And I'm not talkin’ about like a menu or some shit. Like real books? No pictures. Literature, ya know?”
Ortiz fought the urge to punch the guy in the mouth to shut him up. He doubted Jenkins read anything. Confiscated porno mags didn't fuckin’ count.
Prick.
He glanced back to his nearly burned out cigarette and tried to ignore the bastard.
Just tune him out.
"It's okay. Some chicks aren't into that. I'm sure you'll find someone nice. Hell, there's someone for everyone, right?" Jenkins shrugged then smiled. "But just in case, I'll try to leave a few for ya, buddy. That's just the kind of guy I am."
"Gee, thanks," Ortiz said as he took another drag.
An inmate passed their way on the other side of the gate. Ortiz checked his band out of habit. You learned that quick. Always know where the ghosts in the room were, even if they were behind the bars.
Jenkins glared at the inmate as he approached then turned back to him. A greenlit inmate was usually harmless. Usually.
“Listen close man, this one's free, on the house. Poetry...that's what you need to get into. Spout some of that shit...BAM, panties drop." Jenkins smacked his hand into his other palm.
Such a pig. Was all Ortiz could think. He straightened when the inmate veered their way, his hand instantly landing on the shockstick at his belt.
"You could be swimming in pussy. Think about it. Light some candles, tell ‘em some stupid love poem some dead guy wrote ages ago. Like some sex voodoo,” Jenkins said, turning around to look at him then followed Ortiz's gaze back over his shoulder.
He turned around as the inmate stepped up.
"What the fuck you think you're doin’ inmate? Step back behind the line!" Jenkins said, pointing to the faded, worn, yellow line two feet away from the fence.
"Take it easy, boss, I'm just givin' you a heads up, looks like two stiffs back there," the inmate said as he raised up his hands then went on his way.
Jenkins grumbled as he pulled out his keys.
"Lying sacks of shit. Probably what got them here in the first place. They never learn." He opened the gate. "Our asses on the line, we still have to go sniff out the BS. They don’t pay us enough for this shit."
Ortiz followed, careful to stay back several st
eps in case it was an ambush. Jenkins moved to the cell the inmate pointed out and peeked inside.
"Shit."
Ortiz closed his eyes and sighed before moving next to Jenkins. No sign of a fight or struggle of any kind. Both inmates sat against one wall, open wounds on their wrists.
Suicides. Delgado would be pissed. That made four in the last two weeks.
"Didn't we just have a raid? How the fuck did they have something sharp?" Jenkins said, shaking his head.
Ortiz had to agree. It usually took a few days for contraband to circle its way back inside. It wasn't like a Reaper to miss anything, especially potential weapons. If they did it meant their safety.
"Stupid shadow walkers can't even do their jobs right now," Jenkins said as he shook his head. "Could've been one of us, you know? Bet they did this on purpose. Let the ghosts take us out."
"Why would they do that? It's not like they'd gain anything," Ortiz said.
"They're irrational. You know that. Just pissed 'cause we roughed 'em up at the bar last weekend."
Ortiz had a hard time believing that. Reapers rarely lost a fight. A bar brawl would've been child's play. There was no way.
He let the lie pass.
"I don't think it was intentional."
Jenkins flicked his shock stick, extending it in one quick movement and crouched next to the bodies. He poked around, careful not to disturb the scene. Not like there would be any formal crime scene investigation.
"Oh no?" He said as he reached down and retrieved something then held it up for him to see.
"Shit." Ortiz shook his head.
It did look bad.
“Fuckin’ Reapers, man,” Jenkins said, shaking his head.
"I'll call it in," Ortiz said and stepped outside the cell.
Ch 30 Piper LaRue
The stiff, metal chair had Piper constantly shifting, searching for that perfect spot where her leg didn't fall asleep. Maybe it was a unicorn and she was doomed to search for it the rest of the interview. She'd never noticed just how uncomfortable the damn chairs were before. It probably had something to do with the fact that the inmate she was interviewing wasn't particularly captivating or nice. In fact, Basset, or Bass as he liked to be called, was a grade-A asshole. Those things combined, made the sitting situation almost unbearable.
Gaming The System Page 11
