The meeting went better than Tony dared hope. He walked into the dining hall first and grabbed his tray, hurrying to the back table. Gonzales joined him a minute later, sitting facing the dining hall, eyes searching the crowd warily. Perez arrived soon after, sitting on the other side of the table.
'Ok, you guys, I'm glad to see you both honored your word and came,' Tony began. 'Now before we attract the attention of every guard in the entire block, we should discuss the truce. I suggest it should be real simple. No killing or injuring anyone in the rival gang while you're inside. That's fair enough, I guess?' I hope!
'What about his guy, who stabbed Lopez?' began Perez. 'Should he just get away with it?' He glared indignantly at Gonzales.
'And why not?' Gonzales exclaimed irritated. 'Palma was avenging Torres, whom your guy stabbed last month!'
'Ah, just a moment,' Tony began, aware neither man heard him. He banged his fist on the table. 'Wait a minute. I'm in charge of this meeting, right?' He glared at them both until they fell silent.
'Sí, you're neutral,' Perez agreed. Gonzales nodded silently.
Tony took a deep breath, rubbing his face. 'Listen for a second, then. If we're gonna sit here debating who killed who last, this dinner won't be long enough. You guys were killing each other for ages, that's why this Palma and Torres and Lopez and all the others were involved. This truce comes into effect tonight. Tonight, do you get it? That means that we put aside everything that happened before, and we stop all hostility from tonight.' They gazed at him, neither of them satisfied. 'Look, none of you are clean. What do you say?' He gazed at them, willing them to agree with him.
'I suppose the agent is right,' Perez said slowly. 'If we're gonna have a truce, we shouldn't start with revenge, or it would never work. What do you say, Gonzales? We start over, inside?'
Gonzales nodded. 'Sí. While we're inside, we have a truce. No killing, no stabbing, no fighting.' Slowly he held out his hand. Tony glanced rapidly at Perez, giving Gonzales an encouraging nod. Perez held his own hand out. 'Agreed.' They shook hands, and Tony nodded.
'Well done, guys. You saved a lot of lives tonight.' He noticed neither man seemed particularly impressed with it, so he added, 'and you sure as hell are about to piss a lot of gringos off.'
Both men smiled dangerously at each other, and Tony felt his forehead break out in sweat. He ignored it as best as he could, beginning his dinner. 'You guys should eat too, dinner time isn't long,' he advised.
'Nobody hears about this discussion,' Perez warned, glaring at the other two for emphasis. They shook their heads.
They ate rapidly, Gonzales finishing first. 'We should have had a drink, to celebrate the truce,' he remarked, getting up. 'See you later, Almeida. You should watch your back; your neighbors want to get you. I've ordered my men to watch you.'
'My men will watch you also,' Perez told him, not to be outdone.
'Gracias,' Tony said, meaning it. The crowd of hostiles in the yard worried him slightly, as he had no intention of being punished. He had visitors to look forward to, he had his books, and he was determined to avoid another taste of the stun baton. The siren wailed, and they carried their trays over to the counter. 'Do me a favor, would you? Keep an eye on Sanchez too. He's all alone here, and it's my fault. He got transferred for helping in my escape.'
'That goes without saying' Perez told him. 'Buenas noches, Almeida.'
'Buenas noches,' Tony replied, joining the queue back to the cells.
He brushed his teeth and lay down a few minutes before lights out, sorting through his thoughts. He saw Michelle's face before him, telling him she'd come to visit him soon, and Jack's face, as he ate his sandwich. Tony gave a wry grin and turned onto his stomach, closing his eyes. A clang on his bars startled him. He rolled over and sat up; wandering what the guards wanted that late.
'Convict Almeida, get dressed and face the wall. Move it,' ordered a young guard frowning at him impatiently. 'Right now,' he snapped at Tony who stared at him in surprise.
'I haven't done anything wrong,' Tony began, pulling on his t-shirt and jumpsuit. 'Where are you taking me?' His stomach knotted painfully as he pulled on his shoes and faced the wall, putting his hands on his head.
Neither guard answered him, pulling his arms down and placing them in cuffs. The stun baton was placed against his neck and he was ordered to move. To his dismay they left D Block through the door that led towards the front of the prison. They marched across several silent yards, into the administration block. Tony's apprehension increased. He was going to see the warden again, and he had a feeling he knew what the man wanted him for.
A guard knocked on a sturdy wooden door and Tony heard the warden's voice bidding them enter. The guard stepped inside first, then he was pushed through, and the second guard with the stun baton followed him inside. 'Sir, Convict Almeida,' said a guard, and the warden nodded.
'Alright Almeida, I don't intend to waste too much of my evening on you,' Warden Jeffries began. 'Tell me what you spics were discussing at dinner, and you can return to you cell.' He gazed sharply at Tony, his eyes threatening retribution if his wishes were ignored.
Tony shook his head puzzled. 'I don't see what you mean sir,' he began. 'We discussed Mexico, the west coast as far as Acapulco. We all had great holidays on the beach round there,' he lied, doubting whether the warden would believe a word.
'Bullshit,' snapped the irritated warden. 'I'm warning you once only, Almeida. Two rival gang leaders responsible for the most violent gangs in my prison don't just happen to sit and share a meal together. It looked like a meeting of some kind, to me. Now what the hell were you bandits discussing?'
Tony shook his head firmly. 'Just the beach, sir,' he said firmly. 'They're both a little homesick. You could ask them, they'll confirm it.'
'That's highly unlikely,' scoffed the warden. 'Unless of course you spics agreed on a lie in advance. I wouldn't put it past you. Almeida, you just had ten days in A-Seg, don't make me send you back.'
Tony gazed at him in silence, a blank expression on his face.
'Don't act stupid, convict,' snapped the warden, tapping his biro against his desk. 'I can make your life extremely unpleasant if you refuse to cooperate. Now for the final time, what were those gangsters discussing?'
A-Seg, here I come! 'The beach, sir,' Tony repeated, his heart beating faster.
The warden made a sign, and a guard activated the stun baton. The three seconds the blast hit him seemed like three years to Tony, who felt himself go rigid, every nerve screaming in agony. He leaned against a chair, gasping for breath, sweat pouring from his face. The warden waited a few seconds. 'Alright, convict Almeida, that might have helped your poor memory. What did those bandits discuss?'
Oh God, the man's evil! I can't take more of this. The Mexican's face crossed his mind, lying doubled over with a knife in his stomach. He pressed his lips together, shaking his head. He saw the warden make a sign from the corner of his eye and took a deep breath, feeling a second shock hit him. It seemed the blast lasted longer this time, burning through him. He sank onto his knees, fighting to breathe. The room spun about him while he vomited up his dinner.
'You remember anymore of the conversation?' questioned the warden.
Tony prayed for divine intervention, shaking his head.
'Alright, convict, whenever you do remember something, just let a guard know, and you'll get your cell back. In the meantime, I've got just the person to put you in with.' He pulled a folder from his desk, opening the picture. 'I believe you're acquainted already. He was moved to minimum, but he lit a fire in the dormitory…'
Tony blinked, clearing his wet eyes to see the photo more clearly. He chewed his lip hard, seeing Summers' face.
'He arrived an hour ago. You two can catch up. He seemed interested to hear you were here also, Almeida.' The warden laughed in anticipation. 'Remember, anytime you recall what the conversation was about, just let a guard know. And another thing, convict. I don't tolerate violence – for any reason!' He looked meaningfully at Tony. 'I hear about you fighting in the cell, you'll go to A-Seg. for a week and lose your visiting privileges.'
'Yes sir,' Tony muttered, longing to strangle the man. How in the world could he even consider putting them in a cell together? "I hear about you fighting in the cell for any reason" well, he would hear about it everyday. Tony gave him a disgusted look as he turned to leave.
Looks like you won't be seeing Michelle anytime soon, Almeida. Dammit, she was supposed to come in two and half weeks, and someone was supposed to come tomorrow…
He followed the guards out of the administration block and across the yard, along a different route. Taking a deep breath he read the writing on the block they approached – C Block. Tony shook his head in despair. The only person he knew in the block was Summers, and it would have been far better to know no one. Take a good look round the yard, Almeida; you probably won't see it again for months!
They led him up a flight of stairs and along a catwalk, pausing him outside a cell which was unlocked. He moved to the back automatically, waiting for his cuffs to be removed. 'Remember, convict, the warden won't tolerate any trouble in the cells,' warned the young guard and they exited the cell. Tony glanced around, noticing Summers watching him from the top bunk. His belonging lay scattered round the cell, photos and papers crowding both shelves, his pile of prison clothes on the table. For a brief moment he considered sweeping the things off his shelf, but his belongings were still in D Block and he had nothing to replace them with, so he let it go. He pulled off his jumpsuit and t-shirt and climbed into the lower bunk, forcing his hatred for his cellmate aside.
'Agent Almeida,' Summers began in a whisper as soon as he'd crawled under the blanket. 'It's surprising, really, how many times we get to meet. This is the fourth time, if you think about it. One, the shopping mall, two, CTU, when you were the big shot boss, three, Cromdale Federal Prison, and now here. What a coincidence, don't you think?'
Tony rolled onto his side. He considered reminding Summers where they'd first met, but decided against it. He closed his eyes, leaving his ears open as though he were in a hostile war zone.
'Oh, I forgot. First time we met was back in the marines, remember? You had some other guy's pass, and I arrested you.'
Tony chewed his lip, using all his self control to refrain from making an angry retort.
'So you're sleeping right here with me tonight,' Summers teased, glancing over the edge of his bed. 'Wander who your wife's sleeping with?'
Tony leapt out of bed and grabbed the started pyromaniac by the neck. 'Let's get one thing clear right away, Summers. You ever mention my wife, in any way; I'll break your neck.' He gave him a final shake before he released him.
Summers made a few choking sounds before he settled. 'You're in deep shit, Almeida! Turn your back just once, you're dead.'
Tony clenched his fists, knowing it was true. 'Same applies to you, Summers. You ever close your eyes round me, you won't open them again. That should solve your fire lighting problems permanently.'
A loud clang startled them. 'Shut up, the pair of you. It's an hour after lights out. You've both got yourselves a D-report.' The guard glared at them warningly and continued on his way.
'Oh, that's too bad,' Summers said with a theatrical sigh. 'I guess your pretty wife won't get to drive over. It just brings you to tears, the thought of her so disappointed.' Tony remained silent, not wishing to risk further punishment. The guards were much too close for an angry retort. 'Well, she'll find someone to comfort her, though. A lonely agent who had a hard day…'
Tony leapt out of bed again, reaching for Summers. Summers was prepared this time, banging his head in the bunk's iron post. Tony swore under his breath and pulled his opponent from the top bunk, kicking him in the leg. Summers kicked him back, and Tony punched him, feeling a blow landing on his mouth, splitting his lower lip. He punched Summers harder, hearing the man's head bang against the wall. To his surprise Summers crumpled on the floor. After a moment he knelt down, feeling the man's neck. He appeared dazed. Unwilling to draw further attention to himself, Tony helped him back into his bunk and threw the blanket over him, before he climbed back into his own bed. He was scheduled for a visit tomorrow, and as long as the D-report he received wasn't processed soon enough he would see someone.
The night dragged by. Tony lay awake, unable to sleep, growing increasingly annoyed with each passing minute. He told himself he should sleep tonight as Summers was out and he had nothing to fear. He reminded himself of the shocks with the stun baton. Nothing helped. The day's events had been too much to handle. He felt the familiar longing he always experienced before a visit. Who would manage to drive the seven hours necessary to get there? That person would have to leave the day before and stay in the nearby town, as visiting period was in the morning between 9.00am and 11.00am.
If anyone's come to see me, they'll be here already. His heart ached at the thought of the close proximity of one of his relatives. You put yourself here, remember, Almeida! And if you're honest with yourself, you can't blame the warden for wanting to know what's happening in his own prison!
He fell asleep just before dawn, too exhausted to dream. The siren's wail woke him and he lay in bed for several seconds orienting himself. Above him the bunk swayed, and Summers climbed down, glaring at him. 'You're dead, Almeida!'
'You too,' Tony hissed, gathering his clothes and pulling them on.
'You consider yourself tough and cool, but you're just a scum, like the rest of us,' Summers told him. 'When are you gonna quit worrying about clean clothes, for example?' He picked up one of Tony's socks and threw it into the toilet.
Tony got up slowly, picked up Summers' white t-shirt, and threw it after his sock. 'You satisfied now, Summers?' he asked, pulling on his shoes, one over a sock, the other on his bare foot.
'You're an idiot, Almeida,' Summers muttered, pulling his t-shirt out. 'You're lucky I got a second one. Hope your shoe feels comfortable.'
Tony pulled his sock out silently and washed it in the basin, hanging it on his headboard to dry. As though it's not bad enough locked up in a tiny cell, I got to have a nutcase with me! There wouldn't be any sympathy for me either, outside. After all, this is a prison, not a hotel! Oh God, why couldn't I just have been shot after Michelle got back, it would have been better.
He ate breakfast at a table of strangers who stared at him with thinly veiled hostility. Tony got through his porridge fast, longing to get away from the group. For the first time since his arrest he was actually looking forward to being returned to his cell.
Time passed slowly back in his cell as he waited for his visit. He sat on his bunk and stared through the bars, ignoring Summers' insults. Tony had a strong feeling this would be his last visitor for a long time. He needed to get as much kindness as he could to last him weeks in A-Seg, or possibly the SHU.
'Please let someone come,' he prayed silently, sick with anticipation.