"Healy, I swear it! That's what's been buzzing around the kitchen and everywhere else too!"
Red widened her eyes, imploringly gazing at Healy and begging him to believe her.
Healy leaned back in his chair, hands folded over his stomach, and regarded her evenly.
"You're telling me that there are still drugs on the premises? That they're still being brought in? These are quite serious accusations, Red, and it will end up…"
"I don't care where it goes. I don't care what happens to whoever is involved. I…"
"And this has nothing to do with Nichols? I know how close you were, Red, but given the circumstances, she got exactly what she deserved. You do the crime, you do the time, which she should've learned the first time."
Red sent Healy a Russian-perfected glare, guaranteed to turn anyone to ice, and spoke through a tight, clenched jaw, "This has nothing to do with Nicky. Especially since Nicky didn't do what she was accused of. My girl has her faults, but she was clean. I'd bet my life on it. Don't believe me? Test her. You won't find anything in her system. And this doesn't have anything to do with her. This is about my other girls. The ones who are detoxing. The ones who have a hard time staying clean. I want that vile substance away from them.
"I know where it is. And I know when it's being moved. See for yourself."
With that, Red turned on her heels and slammed the door behind her.
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Healy sat behind his desk, staring after the fiery Russian redhead. Red Reznikov was many things, including manipulative and often times unforgiving, but "liar" was never one of them. She could lie, and would to save face and the ones she loved, but she wouldn't throw something like this out there if there wasn't any merit.
A sigh escaped his lips, and he grabbed for the phone.
"Yes, sir? Yeah, we have a problem… Apparently our little substance problem didn't disappear with the Nichols girl… Yeah, on damn good authority as far as inmates go… I don't have a name, but I have a time… Yeah, we'll be there… Yes, sir… I'll see you there."
Looks like were going on a drug bust, Healy thought, as he walked out of the office to speak with a very frustrated Caputo.
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Where the hell did the rest of the shit come from? Damn you Nichols, you fucking junkie, you just had to keep a fucking stash.
Luschek's mind raced a million miles a minute, as he scurried down the hallway. His brow had broken a sweat and he was nervously watching every corner. He had to get them out of there.
He got on his knees and tugged at the grate, which came off with no difficulty and he tossed it down by his feet. The metal sent a reverberating clang echoing down the barren hallways and he winced. He needed to be more careful.
There they were. Three bags. Three perfect bags that would make him just a little extra cash. He pulled one out, surveying it intently. He felt a pang of guilt course through him, which he quickly drowned out.
He had felt incredibly bad about what he had done to Nichols. She was one of the few inmates he felt at ease with, with her vibrant personality and carefree disposition. He would never admit it, but he missed seeing the wild-haired woman around Litchfield, and he knew others felt it too.
However, it was a matter of survival. May the best man win. Or in this specific case, live. He shrugged off the gnawing bundle of nerves in his stomach; he rationalized that he didn't have another choice.
If she had just kept her mouth shut. Going to max wasn't enough, they were starting to look into it because of the "serious accusations," and if they had discovered the truth, I'd be sitting in jail for a whole lot more than silly prison smuggling. I had to do it. I had to do it. I didn't have a choice. But it'll all be over tonight.
"What do you got there, Luschek?"
Luschek jumped a foot in the air and spun around, startled at the sudden appearance of Caputo and what seemed to be every correctional officer in Litchfield. He held out the drugs in front of him, handing the bag to Caputo.
"Got what I believed to be a phony tip about drugs. Thought I'd check it out anyways. I'm glad I did, I was just about to radio you!"
He pulled the other two bags out, which Caputo immediately snatched from him.
"Is that so? Just a snitch telling you about where to find smuggled drugs?"
Luschek shrugged. "Well, yeah. Nichols was a junkie, they tend to have hoarding problems."
Caputo stared at the younger officer, wondering why he didn't just fire the lying little shit.
He knew with every fiber of his being that Luschek was guilty as sin. He had been around the block more than once, and it didn't take a profiler to see that he was sweating profusely, avoiding eye contact, and stumbling over his words. He wished he could pin it on him. It hadn't made him happy to send the quirky, pint-sized daughter of Red Reznikov to max for something he knew she wasn't entirely guilty of. But until something came up that pinned Luschek for his misdoings, his hands were tied.
"Fine. Let's get this cleaned up. Quickly and quietly."
Luschek stared after his boss and let up a pent up breath. That was a close one. And after tonight, his problems would be gone. Well, one in particular. After tonight, he will have gotten away with it.
