'I got a visitor?' Sanchez echoed, standing in the center of the cell, eyeing the guard stupefied. 'After 8 years? Who is it?'

The guard's obvious irritation increased. 'How the hell should I know? Now do you wanna see them, or not? Move to the back of your cell.'

Sanchez turned to seek reassurance from Tony as the door slammed behind him. 'Do you think it's her?' he whispered.

Tony nodded encouragingly. 'Sure. She replied to your letter, didn't she? Go on, you'll be ok!' He watched his cellmate led along the catwalk and down the stairs before he picked up his Arabic grammar and began the tenth chapter. Being alone he could focus on the lesson properly without being interrupted constantly by invitations to play cards with his bored friend. Hopefully it's his wife. It'll be a lot easier for him if she'll take him back. A few minutes later he rose from the chair, aware he had been wasting time dreaming. Focus, Almeida! He'll be ok if he remembers everything you told him to say, and he should do, you've practiced it often enough! Now don't waste your time.

The siren's wail echoed through the block, interrupting every inmate. Tony laid his book on the bed, filled his cup with water which he swallowed in a gulp and hurried to his door, joining the silent queue.

It was windy outside. He felt his clothes tugged by the gale as he moved to join Colin, who was forced to cup his hand round his cigarette lighter. 'Damn this wind,' he muttered moodily. 'Can't even light this thing. You want one, Tony?'

He shook his head. 'No, and you shouldn't either. You didn't smoke at CTU.'

Colin laughed harshly. 'I didn't do lots of things at CTU. That's another life. Why bring it up?'

'You're right,' Tony agreed, leaning against the wall. 'I won't again. It's kinda cold, out here.'

Colin nodded. 'Where's Sanchez?'

Tony stared at him in surprise. Colin lived in world of his own, perpetually cursing himself for his theft, paying little attention to anything that transpired. 'His wife came to visit.'

Colin granted, his hand round his cigarette. 'What did you do to those Arabs?' he asked after several minutes had passed. 'They've been watching you.'

Tony waved away the smoke the strong gust blew into his face, attempting not to cough. 'Arabs?' he inquired, casually. So someone else had noticed it too, he wasn't sinking into paranoia.

'Those terrorists. How did you piss them off, you only just got back? Haven't seen you anywhere near them!'

Tony studied him quizzically. Colin had been sent down for accepting bribes, but as far as he knew had never revealed anything classified. He took a deep breath. 'I had a little something to do with them being returned,' he admitted.

Colin tapped ash onto the ground, raising his eyes to look into Tony's. 'Think they know that?'

Tony shrugged. 'Normally I'd say no, that's classified, but they sure act like they know.'

His former colleague nodded. 'Yeah, they do. You knew them from undercover work?'

'No, I kept tabs on them. My intel led to their arrest.'

Colin studied the dusty yard. 'For what it's worth, I can tell you no one would've shown them your notes during interrogation. If they saw your name anywhere on their charge sheet, it could only have been here, on arrival. The C files we bring with us are real detailed.'

'They're also classified,' Tony objected. 'I never got to see mine! Closest I got to it; the warden was examining it on his desk and shut it once I got into his office. You get to see yours?'

'No. But I'll bet all my smokes they saw theirs. After all, Tony, it's a weird coincidence they're housed in the same block you were in, don't you think? I mean, there's three other blocks too. And the warden and block supervisor are hardly among your closest fans!'

Tony rubbed his face, waving away more smoke. 'Those C files are to be locked away in the warden's office. Showing them to anyone would be highly illegal.' He chewed his lip uneasily, aware how little regard anyone around him had for the law.

'If I were you, I'd watch my back,' Colin advised. 'If they are aware of your role in their capture, they'll kill you.'

'Yeah,' he agreed bitterly. 'I'll watch out for them too. So far I've only got the Aryan brothers after me, and all the guards in the entire prison. What's one more group?'

The gale made yard time unpleasant. Tony found himself longing to return to his cell. It seemed hours later when the siren wailed and they were led indoors and locked up. He found Sanchez sitting on the floor, a bemused expression on his face.

'Hey, how did it go?' he inquired, wishing his friend luck.

Sanchez beamed at him. 'She's gonna give me another chance,' he said, grinning at Tony. 'Almeida, I'll never be able to thank you for helping with my letter, telling me what to say…'

Tony shrugged awkwardly. 'You're welcome. Just remember what else I told you, ok?'

'Of course. I got to say four kind things everyday, and if I'm pissed off I got to go for a walk until I'm ok again, and NEVER yell at her – even if she yells at me! I got to help round the house and make her tea in the evenings.'

'Right,' Tony agreed, amused by the recitation. It works for you, Papa, and I tried real hard too…

The clang of dozens of footsteps along the catwalk interrupted his thoughts and he tucked Michelle's picture deep into his pocket, turning to face the door as six guards arrived. 'This is a cell search. Almeida and Sanchez, move to the back of the cell and face the wall, with your hands on your heads!'

'What the hell now?' Tony whispered to an equally mystified Sanchez. They stood close together, heads pressed into the cold plaster, fingers interlocked behind them. The guards entered and locked the door, placing them both in cuffs and warning them against the slightest movement. Hearts beating wildly they listened to the search, hearing their mattresses pulled to the ground and stripped, their bedding trampled upon and shaken vigorously, their books knocked to the floor. Each one was lifted by its covers and shaken. Tony grimaced, fighting the urge to turn his head to watch them handling his books. Just don't shake that Spanish one, or it'll fall apart…Warden Jeffries would sure LOVE the subject matter! To his intense relief they gave the written material nothing but a cursory examination, returning the mattresses to the beds and throwing the entire pile of bedding onto the bottom bunk, clearing space for themselves. One opened the toilet and glanced inside, slamming the lid. The two prisoners jumped at the noise, kicking themselves for it. The same guard pulled the lid off the cistern, peering inside.

'What have we here?' he questioned.

Tony turned his head sideways, noticing a wet plastic bag in his hands, before a blow to his shoulders reminded him the question had not been addressed to him. Not yet, anyway.

'Open it,' ordered supervisor Lee, and he heard the rustling of plastic, unwrapped and pulled from a second plastic bag.

'Sir, it looks like cocaine!'

'Bring it here,' ordered Lee, pulling a finger into it. 'It sure does. Alright, turn round slowly, the pair of you. Who does this belong to?'

Just when things are a little more tolerable something's got to go wrong… It's sure as hell not mine, and I doubt it's his either. They turned to face the supervisor, gazing in shocked silence at the large bag. That looks pretty full. How the hell did it get here?

Supervisor Lee tapped his foot impatiently. 'Wipe those idiotic expressions off your faces right now,' he ordered. 'Quit acting like you never saw it before! Who does this belong to?' Silence greeted his question. Lee's face turned red. 'Almeida?'

'No sir,' Tony replied, looking him in the eye.

Lee looked momentarily disconcerted. 'Sanchez,' he inquired, glancing at the car thief. 'No sir,' he said, shaking his head. 'It's not mine.'

'So it just materialized,' Lee asked, his voice dripping with scorn. 'You spics better agree whose it is this minute.'

'Sir, neither of us ever saw it before,' Tony assured him. 'It sure wasn't here this morning, someone must have planted it while I had yard time and he had a visitor.'

'Really?' inquired Lee. 'And what makes you so certain it wasn't here this morning?'

'He fixed the toilet,' Sanchez muttered, his voice shaking. 'I watched. There was nothing there.'

'You fixed the toilet?' repeated Lee, annoyed. 'What the hell do you mean by that?'

'Sir, it was leaking,' Tony explained. 'The water kept flowing, so I took it apart and repaired it. I assure you there was nothing inside here then.'

'So you kept it somewhere else,' Lee told him, shaking his head.

'Sir, look around,' Tony begged. 'This cell is bare, there IS nowhere else! I can promise you this isn't ours!'

'This isn't the Boy Scouts,' Lee told him, picking up the bag. 'The word of a convicted traitor might not hold much weight.'

'We didn't do it, sir,' Sanchez repeated.

Lee carried the bag closer to them. 'Take a good look at this. How the hell did you think you could conceal it?' He held it out to Sanchez.

'Freeze,' Tony snapped, his order coming as instinctively as it had on patrol. Sanchez paused, frozen in his tracks. 'Don't let him make you touch it, he's after fingerprints!'

Lee returned the bag to the table, eyeing Tony in silent fury. 'Alright, we'll take this to Warden Jeffries. Narcotics come under his jurisdiction. Move it, convicts.'

'Sir, don't do this,' Tony pleaded, aware his efforts were in vain. 'You know us. This is such an obvious set-up…'

'We'll let the warden decide that,' Lee told him. 'Move it. One step out of line, the guards will activate their stun batons.' He gave Tony a rough shove, pushing him ahead of Sanchez. They were hurried out of the cell, the guards falling into step beside them.

'Sir,' Colin called, face pressed against his bars. 'I doubt the drugs belong to them. I would've noticed if they had anything like that.'

'Really?' Lee inquired. 'Just how much time do you devote to watching Convict Almeida? A great deal, I assume, but let me assure you these things can be concealed within seconds. Let's go.'

'Sir, I am, at least I was - a federal agent,' Colin continued. 'I would've noticed something like that.'

'I dare say you would,' Lee answered, another smirk on his face. 'You would've been certain to get your cut! I don't want to hear another word.' He set off along the corridor, followed by the guards. Tony turned his head back, meeting Colin's eyes. The man's face was red with shame, and he shook his head slightly.

Thanks for trying to help us. Tony hoped he would be able to read the message his face conveyed, before he turned to stumble down the stairs. Why the hell do they keep bringing his crime up, he's regretted it a thousand times already. He was given no further time to dwell on the supervisor's lack of tact, before they reached the yard. The guards picked up their speed and they were forced to walk as fast as they could to keep up, aware of the prohibition against running, and having seen the fate that awaited prisoners unable to match the pace.

You're in real trouble again, Almeida! You're gonna go down for this, and so will Sanchez, coz it'll be impossible proving you didn't place that bag there. They don't even need to prove it was yours, they got the evidence. His brain struggled to find a way out of their predicament, but he came up blank.

Warden Jeffries was disinclined to listen to reason or to be swayed by their protestations of innocence. He pointed to the bag before him on his desk, eyes hard. 'That's quite enough! We've wasted ten minutes listening to your lies. I haven't got all afternoon! You're obviously collecting a little cash for your release, Sanchez, especially as it appears you'll have a wife and child to support. I know you haven't got anything outside. Admit this was yours and I'll be lenient.'

'What the hell is that supposed to mean,' Tony inquired, concerned for his cellmate, who appeared to be shaking. 'Why should he admit anything?'

'It'll go better with you if you do,' the warden informed them. 'Two years for trafficking inside if you plead guilty and reveal your sources. Double that if you don't. And a very long spell in the SHU. Sanchez?'

'No sir, it wasn't me,' Sanchez moaned, tears filling his eyes. 'I can't tell you what I don't know. It's not mine, I'm going home soon.'

'I can't tell you who the supplier is, as he didn't inform us of the deal, but I'll tell you who delivered it,' Tony said, his voice hard. It was plain they were to be charged, and he was determined to save his cellmate. 'One of your guards brought it this morning. Just check your surveillance tapes and you'll find him. We don't know anything about this.'

The warden rose, glaring at him. 'Are you implying one of my employees planted a bag of narcotics to frame you? That's outrageous! You're delusional; you'll need to see a shrink! And that's not gonna help you! You WILL be charged with trafficking. Now as neither of you are prepared to plead guilty I'll be forced to present this matter to the court next week. You may call your lawyers to represent you if you wish. It will make little difference.'

Tony longed to rub his face, struggling with his rage. 'I'm perfectly sane, Warden Jeffries. Refusal to view the security footage would say something about your mental state – it would reflect badly on you. Examine it now and save yourself the trouble of charging us.'

'You're overly confident, Almeida,' the warden told him, in disgust. 'Ok, have it your way, we'll view the footage. Let me warn you it will go badly with you if I don't find anything.' He got up, turning to the guards. 'Take them to interrogation room 1.'

The door's bang indicated finality as they faced each other across the table, shackled to the chairs. Tony's eyes searched the walls, spotting a camera focused directly on the table. 'There's a camera,' he warned his cellmate. 'There'll be a few microphones too.'

Sanchez nodded vaguely, his distress palpable. 'I'm not gonna get to go home, am I?' he asked, lowering his face. 'I had nine months left, I done 8 years. My groups all gonna go, and I'll still be here, all alone. My wife won't wait. It's all over, before it could even begin. She was gonna bring Ella next time, that's our daughter,' he ended, his voice shaking. 'She was just a baby…I was gonna really meet her…'

'Stop,' Tony begged. 'Sanchez, we were set up, they're gonna see someone bring that stuff. No one's gonna charge you with anything, trust me. It's not as bad as you think, we know for sure that bag was delivered this morning while we were out, that gives a two hour time frame, it's possible to search through the security tapes. You'll see your daughter.'

The door opened before he could finish reassuring his friend. 'Get up, you spics,' snapped the warden. 'I've checked the entire two hours you were gone, and the tape is fine. NO ONE at all entered your cell. Now I'm confining the pair of you to the SHU to await your trial.'

Sanchez shook harder, his breathing labored. 'Sir, the tape must have been tampered with,' Tony argued. 'Someone MUST have entered the cell this morning. I promise you we're not responsible for trafficking.'

The warden ignored him, motioning the guards to unshackle their legs. 'Save it for the judge, Almeida. He's heard this kinda crap before. Now move it.'

'No, wait,' Tony said, his eyes lowered. 'I had my eye on Sanchez the entire time, he brought nothing into the cell, I would've found it if he had. I was the one who was pulled out and returned a coupla times in the past few weeks, not him. Charge me.'

The warden regarded him with a smile. 'You're pleading guilty?'

'No sir,' Tony retorted. 'But like I said, I would've noticed if he tried anything like this. I'm trained to do so. Look,' he said, leaning against the chair, 'I'm not exactly strengthening my defense, assuring you of his innocence. You'll fail to get him convicted, and you know it, you'll just end up looking incompetent. Let him go.'

'Incompetent?' echoed the warden. 'Now that wouldn't look good on my record, would it? You're right, Sanchez was incapable, but you had plenty of opportunity to do a little smuggling. After all, you're a lifer, you got little to lose, and a lot to gain, and you're real close to those Mexicans. Government confiscated your property; you've got to be bitter.' He turned to the guards. 'Return Convict Sanchez to his cell, and escort Convict Almeida to the SHU.'

The door opened and a shaking Sanchez was pushed through, turning to regard Tony in dismay. 'I'll be fine,' Tony assured him as he was hauled away.

'Really? I'm not sure I share your confidence,' the warden remarked. 'Don't imagine you'll get away with this. There's plenty of punishments we can hand out to those serving life sentences, you can be sure about that.'

'I don't doubt it,' Tony muttered audibly as he was marched from the room.