Chapter 7

"Be very careful with this thing ok?" I say as I hand Lincoln my device (I should really think of a name for this thing, like the Rolandinator, or the Roland Extractor)

"Yeah, whatever" Lincoln says in a tone that doesn't exactly fill me with confidence.

"I'm serious man, this here is a sophisticated piece of equipment, you can't handle it like drug dealer burner phones I'm sure you're accustomed to"

"Keep it up kid," He says with a growl, stepping forward, but Michael puts his hand in front of Lincoln's chest, which seems to calm him down. Sparing one last glare at me, Lincoln stomps off to the car, handing my device over to Bellick (which somehow worries me more).

"Are you sure you want to bring him on this mission?" I ask Michael "I know he's your brother and all, but the man's a ticking time bomb."

Michael looks directly at me, but unlike Lincoln, he isn't looking at me with anger or any emotion for that matter. His eyes are cold and calculating, giving no indication of what he's thinking. It's a complete 180 from Lincoln's attitude, but somehow more intimidating. It's hard to believe those two are related.

"Lincoln will do his job," Michael says in an even tone, "just make sure you do yours." with that, he gets in the car and he and the others drive off.

Ok, ouch. I walk back to the main area and look around the room. Mahone and Sara are nearby my station. Their backs are to me, and they seem to be having a conversation.

"...how long has it been since your last dosage?" Sara asks in what I can only assume is her 'doctor' voice.

"Haven't taken anything since Sona,"

"How have you been holding up?"

"Well it's not like I can attend an AA meeting Sarah," Mahone responds sarcastically.

"Listen, I know we have…history," Sarah says hesitatingly "But if you ever need someone to talk to…" Sarah trails off as she and Mahone notice me behind them. They both look at me disapprovingly.

"Sorry for interrupting," I say with my best 'I didn't hear anything smile' "I just needed to get to my desk," I say, pointing towards my area. They wait a few seconds, and after exchanging a look, part ways and go do their own thing. Classic Roland, making friends wherever you go.

I sit down at my desk and run a maintenance check, just making sure that the connection between my device and the computer is established, and firing off on all cylinders. I also look through the files I copied today from my fellow teammates.

…

Alright, I know that sounds bad, but it's purely a precaution. Newspapers and Google searches will only get me so far, and I need to know *exactly* who I'm getting into bed with. And besides, doesn't seem like I got much. Self gave us all the same type of phone, so not much info there, and no one brought any personal belongings. So much for gaining a tactical advantage.

"Hey," I hear a voice say. I nearly jump out of my seat

"Jesus!" I exclaim, looking over my shoulder at Mahone "little warning next time buddy." I snap at him.

Mahone narrows his eyes "why are you so jumpy?" he asks, beginning to look at my computer suspiciously.

"I could ask you the same thing," I fire back, hoping to keep his attention away from my screen. It seems to work, as Mahone pauses and looks at me with an inquisitive look on his face.

"...did you need something?" I ask with confusion

"I was just…you seem familiar is all," Mahone says. Crap, how did he recognize me?! He never saw my face, and I used a voice modifier for all my business. Must be his F.B.I training, must have recognized my speech patterns or something. `

"Nice try man, but I don't play for that team," I say sarcastically, praying he can't hear the anxiousness in my voice. "But I know some guys in Boston who might be down, you know if your into that sort of thing."

Mahone lights up with recognition, and he looks straight at me "your from Boston?" He asks, but it sounds more like a statement.

"W-well I didn't say that I was from Boston, just that I know guys from-"

"Am I interrupting something?" Sarah thankfully interrupts my rambling. Mahone looks at me for a few more seconds, but then his eyes flicker out, and he's back to that distracted look he'd been sporting before.

Sarah is looking at me now with a questioning look, but while she may be a finer sight than Mahone, I still don't love the attention.

Sarah opens her mouth to say something, but then the wired phone next to my computer rings, and she immediately forgets about me.

"Sarah, it's me" We hear Michael's voice say

"Everybody's on" She responds.

Alright, show time

I look at my computer, looks like I'm linked up

"Now, while I'm monitoring the device, I'm not gonna be able to see the exact data that's being copied. But, like downloading quality porn from the Internet, the progress bar's gonna tell me when it's time to rock and roll."

"How long do they need to stay in range?" Mahone asks

"Encrypted data like this is gonna take at least two minutes,"

"How'd you even build something like this?" Sarah asks

"Building it was the easy part," I respond, spinning my chair to look at her "There are a million ways to copy data and info, but the real hard part was designing it so that the person who is being copied, doesn't know they're being copied."

"And your sure you figured that part out?" Mahone asks

"You doubt me, sir?"

"Well, you did say you got caught because of that device"

"I got caught for trying to steal the phone of some pompous corporate douchebag,"

"I thought you said this device means you don't have to steal?" Sarah asks confused.

"Yeah but, in order for the copy to happen, I have to remain in close proximity of the source of data, and my mark was too heavily protected for that to happen."

"So what'd you do?"

"Simple," I responded "I hid in the bathroom, waited for him to come to shake hands with the president, then tried to copy his phone there."

"Tried?"

"Yeah, well you see-"

"Save it for later, Sucre is about to make contact," Mahone interjects. Damn shame too, I was getting to the good part.

I look over at my computer, but nothing. Absolutely no info being copied.

"Talk to me Roland," Michael says

"I got nothing, man," I respond "Last time I had this little action, I was dry humping my way through fifth grade."

"Take this seriously," Sarah says annoyingly

"I am," I say defensively "I make bad jokes in tense situations, it's a problem. Not a huge problem, I mean it's not cocaine, but then again I do that too-"

"Save it for your therapist." Sarah abruptly cuts me off.

"Don't have one. But if your offering…" I respond sarcastically

"Not that kind of doctor." Sarah dryly remarks

"How about now?" Michael asks

"Nada," I respond

"Try to get closer to him," Mahone suggests

"If he was any closer, he'd be in the car," Michael responds

"Why isn't the device working?" Mahone asks

"My device works fine, maybe Lincoln damaged it with those gorilla hands of his,"

"Or maybe it's too filled up with all of your stolen identities," Sarah suggests condescendingly

I roll my eyes at her tone "ok, last time I checked, you wouldn't be here unless you broke the law at some point, so you're hardly in any position to judge me Doc." I snap back.

Sarah seems shocked by my comeback and seems as if she wants to say something, but decides against it and goes quiet. Great, now I feel bad.

"He was there, I think Tuxhorn was in the car." Michael said, "So did we get it or not?"

"Nope," Sarah says "Nothing."

Michael doesn't say anything, then a few seconds later hangs up.

Well, that's just perfect.

Dennis POV

Well, this is just perfect.

Whitepages, ZabaSearch, Facebook, hell, even myspace. Not one mention of the Don Self guy. Granted, it's not a terribly unique name, but still. Officer Brady wasn't much help either, as all he gave me was his name and a rough description if you can even call it that. I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do with "he looks like Bozo The Clown with no makeup"?

"Um, sir?" I heard a lady's voice say from behind me. I crane my neck to look at her, as turning my entire wheelchair just makes people look at me funny. It was one of the library assistants, no doubt coming to tell me that they were closing. She looked about my age, with brunette hair tied in a bun and dressed in the standard library uniform. Looks kind of familiar though…

"Chantel?" I ask in disbelief

The girl raises her eyebrow "you know me?"

"Well, yeah. Your Chantel Smith right? You went to Oakland?"

She takes a step back "how do you know that?" she asks in a cautious tone.

"It's me, Mr. Glenn. I taught you 12th-grade math" I said

Her face is blank for a few moments, but then she looks at me again and her eyes light up with recognition

"Mr.G!" She exclaims. There it is. Most kids try to block me out before they even graduate, but Chantel was one of the few kids that I thought I actually made an impression on.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't recognize you because of the.." She trails off as she looks down at my wheelchair. The look on her face is one I've seen a thousand times. It's one thing when strangers look at you like your a wounded duck, but when someone who knew you before see's what you've become, it's a million times worse.

"Yeah I know," I say to pull her out of this awkward tension "I did something with my hair." I say in a joking tone.

Her face breaks out into a smile, and she lets out a small chuckle "Funny as ever Mr. G."

"Well it's not like I have much else going for me," I say with a shrug

Her face flushes in embarrassment "I didn't mean it like that!" She says quickly.

I smile "I know you didn't, just teasing." I say with a smirk. It almost feels like I'm back in my classroom, poking fun and shooting the shit with my students. I'd give anything to go back to that.

"Besides," I begin "I barely recognized you", say, which is honestly an understatement. Back in the day, Chantel was going through a major goth phase. I honestly thought that the black lipstick she always wore was permanent.

"Yeah," She says "Lot's changed since Oakland."

"Amen to that," I respond, in a more sombre tone than I meant to.

"I heard about what happened," She says in a hesitant tone

"Oh did you know?"

"Well, bits and pieces really. Just that you were in an accident, and that you sued the people responsible. But then you lost, and a few months later, the school fired you." She said

"Yeah, sounds about right," I say in a dejected tone. I've done my best to forget those few months.

"The school was never the same without you ya know"

"Did they get someone decent to replace me?"

"Some old fossil with a stick up his-"

"Language young lady." I cut in, slipping back into 'Teacher Mode'

"Sorry Mr.G" She responds, most likely out of reflex.

"Point is, I'm really sorry about what you went through. If there's anything I can do to help, just let me know."

I think for a few moments. "Actually…" I begin "There is something you can help me with."

Roland POV

Michael and the others had returned a while ago, but despite the failure of our mission, Michael didn't seem concerned. I tried talking to him and the others but got the cold shoulder. So I figured I would go get some food. Or at least..that's what I wanted to do, unfortunately, Mahone intercepted me.

"Hey," Mahone says "we need to talk."

Oh, crap "Can it wait? There's some instant ramen in the kitchen with my name on it," I say, trying to walk past him, but he blocks my path.

"It can't," He says, and he locks eyes with me. Unlike Lincoln who shows all his emotion, and Michael who shows none, Mahone is somewhere in the middle. It doesn't look like he's trying to intimidate me, just that he's trying to convey a message, and that message is "I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to". Morbid, but effective.

"Yeah, alright," I say hesitantly. Mahone seems to accept this and starts walking toward the back entrance of the warehouse. I silently follow him. Once we get there, Mahone stops and looks out to the dock, but doesn't say anything. I consider making a few jokes to lighten the mood, but nothing comes to mind. For the first time in a while, my mind is blank. But suddenly, the silence is broken.

"Ya know," Mahone begins "It's funny."

"W-what is," I say, struggling to keep my nerves under control

"It's just that…5 months ago, I would have recognized you instantly. I mean, the skillset, the smarm, your shaky story, it was all there." Mahone says, but it almost feels like he's talking to himself.

"Umm…"

"Maybe it was a prison, maybe it was…something else. I'm almost ashamed I didn't make you from the beginning. Guess I'm getting rusty."

"Dude, I don't know what you're on about, but-"

Suddenly, Mahone snaps up and gets right in my face.

"Your the one who made those fake IDs for me, Gretchen and Whistler," Mahone says with clarity. Welp, there goes my cover. Of all the people who could have ID'd me, it had to be the ex-cop.

"So what if I am?" I ask, unable to keep the defensiveness out of my voice.

"When we worked with you before, you were lazy, sloppy. Your ID's held up, but you completely lacked any type of professionalism or respect."

"Your point?"

"My point is, what we're doing here isn't a game. Lives are at stake. So either you learn how to act like an adult, or I and you are going to have a problem."

It takes all my willpower to his words. It's like talking to my brother again. Always so sure that he knows best. Always so sure that no matter what I'm doing, I'll always find a way to fuck up.

"Listen, man, you don't know me, and I don't want to know you. I have a stake in this too, so save me the condescending speech. You do your job, and I'll do mine, but beyond that? Kiss my ass."

Mahone looks surprised by my response (that makes two of us), but before he can offer a response of his own, Sucre walks out and says "Michael wants to talk to the team."

I and Mahone lock eyes one more time before Mahone nods at Sucre and walks back in. He spares one more look at me, which conveys one message.

This ain't over.

And that's Chapter 7! Thank you so much for reading this far, it means a lot to me. Sorry for the wait on this chapter, I got held up on some other projects. The wait for the next chapter will likely be even longer, and I'm sad to say I might even abandon this story for a while to focus on other projects. I'm still building my craft as a writer, so there are gonna be a lot of ideas and projects that get left behind. Regardless of if I continue with this story, I am unbelievably thankful to each person who read my story, as this has truly been an educational experience. Thank you, and see you next time!