For A Good Cause
A/N; Thanks again for those who are still with me and those who are reviewing.
Chapter four
Don stormed back to his SUV, enraged beyond reason, with Colby again trailing quietly behind. He slid in behind the steering wheel, grabbed it tightly with both hands, and let out a loud howl of agonized frustration. Colby wisely remained silent. The tension, anger and hopelessness that the meeting with Warden Glover had induced, actually made Colby want to scream as well, but that would be redundant and unsatisfying. What he really needed was to punch something. They sat quietly for a few minutes, both of them filled with an overwhelming despair at their failure to rescue their friend and brother.
Eventually, Colby turned to Don and said quietly, "So, what now?"
"I'm not leaving here without him." Don said stubbornly and Colby gave a quick nod of agreement, knowing that was a given.
As if they were brainstorming a difficult case, Don began to verbalize their options and possible scenarios. "It's only 7:30. We have no idea how long the power will be out, but I want to be close when it comes back on. The nearest motel is 50 miles away in Rockville, but with the power out, they may not even be open. That leaves Sacramento and that's just too far away for a few hours sleep, not that I could sleep anyway. If power is not restored by morning, maybe one of us should head back to LA and see about straightening this out from there. I don't think either of us should try to navigate 61 in the dark."
Colby nodded, a grim expression the only indication he knew who would be leaving and who would be staying close by.
Don continued. "Looks like our only option is to remain here at the prison until the power comes back, and since I don't see Glover offering bed and breakfast, I guess we spend the night here in the vehicle."
At the angry sound of contempt in Don's voice as he said the warden's name, Colby shook his head. "How can someone with that boneheaded mentality become warden? I've seen guys like him in the army; full of themselves and their own importance and power, who couldn't function without a guide book in front of them. Everything by the book. No variation from the rules. Well, screw it, sometimes you have to throw the rules and the book out the window and make your own decisions. But, even that wouldn't work in Glover's case. Rules or not, you just can't fix stupid."
His rant over, the car settled into an oppressive silence again. "So, boss, we haven't done an all nighter for a long time. Could be kind of hard without a couple gallons of coffee, though."
Don allowed a small grim smile. Once the decision had been made to stay here all night, he had settled into a morose state, ladened with guilt and fear, and he really didn't feel like talking. "They say caffeine is highly overrated, Granger." he murmured, staring out the front window towards the prison.
Colby snorted. "Don't tell Reeves that. She might have to shoot you."
Don didn't respond. He sat still, his eyes focused on the outside walls of the prison, as if he concentrated hard enough, he could visually penetrate them and see where Charlie was. Colby watched him for a moment. He knew Don Eppes and what he was doing. He settled back in the seat and gave up trying to talk to him.
The guilt Don was feeling grew louder and more persistent as the vehicle settled into silence. Eventually Colby fell asleep, snoring softly, and Don was glad to see at least one of them was thinking clearly. If Colby had to return to LA at dawn, he would need to be rested.
Thoughts of Charlie and what he was going through kept Don alert. Of all the people he knew, his brother was the least likely person to survive an extended stay in prison. He was too gentle, too naïve and trusting. Would all that change? Even when they resolved this mix up – and it would be resolved – would what might be happening to him tonight - in that place - with those men - affect him in ways they couldn't reach?
Guilt, ever present, now settled around him like a shroud and instead of resisting it, he welcomed it, drawing it around him. It would keep him awake. It would keep him focused. He relaxed into the seat and settled in, his eyes glued to the impenetrable walls in front of him.
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Don saw him coming across the parking lot and after a quick glance at his watch, noting that it was 4:30 am, he nudged Colby awake. "We have company." He rolled the window down beside him and nodded slightly to the guard as he approached.
"Agent Eppes, I'm Captain Floyd Lewis. Warden Glover would like to see you."
Don and Colby followed him into the brightly lit hallway and directly to the warden's office. They exchanged meaningful glances. The power was back on. Don had noticed it's return nearly half an hour ago, but fearing he wouldn't be able to contact anyone in LA at that time of morning, had decided to wait.
Warden Glover was standing behind his desk, holding a phone receiver in his hand. As they entered his office, he spoke. "He's here now, Agent Sinclair." He handed the phone to Don, who noticed the warden's face was paler than it had been earlier. He seemed more subdued, less arrogant.
"David, what's going on?" he said into the receiver.
"Don. How's Charlie? Is he okay?"
Don locked dark, angry eyes with Warden Glover and answered. "I don't know. I haven't been able to see him yet."
As he spoke, Glover turned away, and motioned for Floyd. He said something in a low tone to the guard, who nodded and hurried away.
"Well, I have some good news." David went on. "Merrick called in some favors. He pulled some extra workers in to fix the power. Lt. Walker is on his way to Mt. Preston with Eppeson, and all the paperwork you need to make the exchange. Guess Merrick even dragged Judge Oliver back from vacation to sign the court order."
"How did Merrick get involved?" Don asked.
"Walker called him. Guess Gary's worked with Warden Glover before and figured you'd have some problems. He knew Merrick had the clout to make things happen fast. Merrick took it a step further and called Warden Glover himself. Don't know what he said, but he told me you won't have any more trouble with Glover."
Don thanked David and hung up. He looked at Colby, hope showing in his eyes.
"That was David. Walker is on his way here with Eppeson and a court order signed by Judge Oliver. We can get Charlie out of here, and Eppeson behind bars," he turned away from the agent and locked eyes again with Glover, "with the proper paperwork, signed, sealed and delivered."
Glover returned Don's look, abashed and suddenly eager to please. "I've sent Lewis to cell block C to bring your brother here. He can wait here in my office until your people arrive with Eppeson."
Don wanted to berate the man for his earlier actions. But after sitting in the car all night, he had had a chance to think about it and he grudgingly admitted to himself he should have brought some kind of proof or paperwork with him to substantiate their story. That was the primary reason agents weren't allowed to work on cases involving family members. They needed to think clearly and rationally, instead of emotionally. And the shock of finding out Charlie had been sent to prison because of his ill-fated joke, had driven all reasonable thought out of him. But, Don also knew, there were things Glover could have done, even without power, to check out what they were telling him. All of the prisoners being transferred had their information forwarded to Mt. Preston, but it was transferred electronically into the prison's data base. With no computer, they couldn't check Eppeson's fingerprints against Charlie's. However, with the FBI and NSA connection they gave him, Glover should have given them the benefit of the doubt. At the very least he could have taken Charlie out of Cell Block C overnight until he could investigate further.
Whatever Merrick said to him must have worked, because Glover seemed more than willing to help in any way he could.
A moment later, Floyd Lewis returned, alone and red faced. He motioned for the warden to join him at the doorway, and after a fast, hushed conference, he hurried away once more. Don had a bad feeling. When Warden Glover turned back to face him and Colby, he knew something was wrong. Glover's face, always on the pasty side, had turned even paler, and he lowered his eyes to the floor.
"It would seem there is a problem." he finally stuttered. " Your brother isn't in the cell he was assigned to."
For just an instant, Don's weary mind didn't register what Glover said and he didn't react. Then it hit him full force and he panicked. "What do you mean he's not in the cell? Where the hell is he? Where else could he be at 4:30 in the morning?"
The warden recovered, looking at Don with a steady calm resolve. "I've sent Lewis to gather the rest of the guards and prison employees. We'll find out what happened and where he might have been placed. But, in the meantime, Agent Eppes, there is another place we can look." He motioned for Don and Colby to follow him.
They left the administration building and turned towards a larger building that sat to the left of the entrance. Don was shocked when they walked through the guarded doorway into a large gymnasium. It was filled with prisoners. There were a few cots set up near a wall on the far end, but it was obvious most of them slept on the floor. Mats, pads, some sleeping bags, sometimes just a pile of blankets, covered most of open area. The inmates were all still sleeping of course, but at a nod from Glover the guards began rousing them. As they were told to line up along one of the long walls, Glover explained. "Mt. Preston, like every other prison in America is over crowded. We keep the prisoners who are only here for a short time, maybe someone who has been sentenced for 30 days for parole violation, here in the gym instead of taking up space in a cell we need for the ones with a longer sentence. And, for a short time after we receive newbies, we keep some of them here, to observe and determine where best to place them. Someone like Eppeson, uh, your brother, would have normally been put into Protective Custody right away, but overworked and underpaid prison employees have been known to make mistakes. It's possible someone missed what he was convicted of, and put him into general population."
Don was listening, but his attention was mainly on the prisoners as they were lined up. They were all dressed the same; white t shirts and white underwear; all of them standing side by side. Don checked each one, looking for the telltale head of curls that he knew would be unruly after sleep. When he reached the end of the line, he retraced his steps, checking again, and when the second look produced nothing again, he glanced hopefully to Colby. Granger shook his head. Charlie wasn't there.
They returned to the administration building and proceeded to the conference room, where Lewis had gathered all available guards. "I've called the day shift in early, sir," he reported to Glover, who nodded approvingly. "They should all be here in 30 minutes or so."
Lewis also had blueprints of the prison laid out on a long table and Don was immediately drawn to them.
"Mt. Preston has eight different areas where inmates are housed." Warden Glove began. " All totaled, there are about 2500 locked up at any given time. Today, there are 875 inmates in Cell Block A." Glover pointed to one of the larger buildings on the blueprint page. "That is where the most violent are kept. Mostly gang related. Gang violence within prison walls is not that much different that on the outside. It is our main problem. Any prisoner with gang connections is housed in A."
"Cell Block B," he continued, " is for General Population, for those who follow the rules, are not connected to any gang, and who don't pose a threat to themselves or anyone else. We currently have 735 there."
Glover pointed to a building away from the others, sitting far enough from the nearest building, that it wasn't part of any discernible pattern. "This is Cell Block C, for VP's. It's where your brother should have been placed."
"VP's?" Don asked.
Glover was slightly uncomfortable as he answered, "Vulnerable Prisoners. Someone who may in danger from the other inmates. There are 304 there today."
Don swallowed hard, make that 303, he thought, then returned his gaze to the papers in front of him. Glover continued.
"Level One Housing, here, is similar to trustees at a county jail. Not likely to escape, no threat, minimum security. There's no more than 250 there. We also have a segregated area. It's like a county jail within the prison itself. If a law is broken within the prison walls, the suspects are detained there throughout the investigation. Today there are 138 inmates waiting a verdict."
Glover turned away from the paper and addressed Don directly. "The gymnasium you've already checked. And we have the Psychiatric ward and the infirmary. Together those two have nearly 200 inmates residing there."
Don turned away, back to the blueprints, begrudgingly giving Glover his due. The man certainly knew what he was talking about, and it was obvious he did take his job very seriously.
Don saw a building on the blueprints that Glover had not mentioned. He pointed to it and asked, "What's this one?"
The warden answered right away. "That's the educational building. It has the prison library, and classrooms for adult education."
Don's eyes lit up and he saw Colby straighten up at the information. Glover saw their reactions and shook his head. "I know, your brother being a professor and all, it's sounds like the ideal place, but we had a massive fire there two months ago, and with state funding at an all time low, the money to repair and rebuild it has not been allocated. It's off limits to everyone, including guards and any prison employees. It's extremely unsafe and the doors are padlocked and chained. No one is permitted there."
His hopes dashed once again, Don walked away, rubbing his hands across his face in frustration. Then he squared his shoulders and addressed Warden Glover. "We need to split up into teams and check all these buildings. The problem is, only Colby and I know what Charlie looks like."
Floyd Lewis stepped forward. "I took the liberty of making copies of Eppeson's, uh, Eppes' mug shot that was taken during processing." He handed one each to Glover, Don and Colby, then proceeded to pass one to each of the guards standing in the room. Don looked at the picture. Mug shots were notoriously known to be unflattering, certainly not catching the subject at their best moments, but Charlie's pale face with large dark eyes nearly tore Don's heart in two. His brother's eyes were filled with bewilderment and confusion. He looked every bit the part of "vulnerable" as the warden had put it. Don shook his head, biting his lower lip, and wondered again how all of this could have started with a stupid practical joke.
Before they began their search Glover had Lewis provide each team with a complete printout of inmates names and what cell they were assigned to. Then Warden Glover took three guards with him to Cell Block A, Don accompanied three more guards to check Cell Block B and Colby and three additional guards rechecked all of Cell Block C.
By the time Don and Glover returned with their teams four hours later, Colby had finished checking the 300 inmates in Cell Block C and had taken his team to the medical building and checked the two wards there. In the meantime, Floyd Lewis had checked the Segregation Area. That only left the Level One House area.
They regrouped in the conference room where coffee and donuts had been provided. Don took a cup of coffee, needing the caffeine, but refused anything to eat. As they compared their search results, a disturbing pattern was developing. Don had found 6 cells in the block he checked that had different prisoners than what the paperwork said. Warden Glover had also found 4 discrepancies in Cell Block A, and Colby had found a total of 10 in the three places he had checked.
Glover was puzzled and more than a little worried, but Don and Colby were downright terrified. It was becoming obvious that the paperwork had been falsified. Twenty prisoners, who had been assigned a bed and suitable housing, were missing. And Charlie was one of them!
"What the hell is going on here?" Don demanded.
Before Warden Glover could answer, Lewis ran into the room, his face red again, "Warden. There's been an incident in the laundry room."
"What?" Both Glover and Don asked at the same time.
"One of the new prisoners," Lewis said, his eyes darting nervously to Don and Colby, "was found beaten and shoved into one of the dryers."
"Has he been identified?" Glover asked before Don could, because Don suddenly found he couldn't breath, let alone talk.
Lewis shook his head. "Not yet. His face was beaten so badly, we can't tell for sure, but he fits the general description of the Eppes you're looking for."
tbc
A/N; Sorry. But check later today. I'll try to send you chapter five. And hey, we're close to the end. Something good has to happen soon. Right?
