'I don't know what you imagine I can do for you, Tony?' his lawyer sighed, the sound echoing through the drab interrogation room. 'They found a kilo of cocaine in your cell.'
Tony nodded. 'I just told you, Paul, I didn't put it there. Someone planted it to frame me. You're a lawyer, aren't you? Check the fingerprints on the bag, on the cell, question the guards, please. I didn't do this.'
His lawyer looked awkward. 'You're asking me to conduct an investigation within a federal penitentiary. First off, I'm not a private detective, and second, it's entirely up to the warden to grant such a request. Speaking to him earlier, I'm not certain you're among his favorite inmates!'
Tony remained in his chair, aware he was shackled to it and no longer tempted to pace. 'That's immaterial. You're a top lawyer; you'll have to convince him. Dammit Paul, I'll tell you what to collect, I just need you to do it, as I'm kinda restricted! Oh, and I'll need you to take the security footage and view it all, and if you find nothing, send it to Michelle. Someone tampered with it.' He fell silent, wishing he could take charge of his defense.
'I'll see what I can do,' his lawyer told him. 'Just don't expect too much. Right now it's not looking too good. You realize what you're facing if we fail to find anything and it goes to trial?'
Tony shook his head. 'There's no way they could convict me, the evidence is all circumstantial!'
'Is it? Well I got news for you. This is a simple narcotics case, and people have been convicted with far less evidence.'
Tony chewed his lip, pondering the situation. 'Ok, go ahead. What more can they do to me? I got something left they overlooked, that they're gonna take?'
His lawyer frowned. 'Tony, I'm being serious here. You'll get a year in the SHU, they'll then transfer you again, and there are a few worse places out there. They'll make sure you never get another visitor again, and they'll lock you up with all kinds of people and, well, I don't need to spell it out for you!'
Tony exhaled sharply. 'Paul, I didn't do this. You've got to clear me.'
'I'll try. Don't attract any further attention to yourself in the meantime.'
'I won't,' he promised, watching the lawyer pack his files into his briefcase. You used to have one very similar to this, Almeida. He swallowed as the door closed and he remained alone in the room, grateful for a few extra moments away from his uncomfortable cell. If only he would be given permission to collect samples and examine them he was certain he would not only clear his name but also catch the culprit. Focus, Almeida. Someone set you up, but who? He cast about for names, giving up in despair. Colin was right, he had too many enemies. Anyone could have bribed a guard into planting the cocaine, or the guards themselves might have wanted to see him further humbled. The warden and block supervisor hated him. Tony kicked himself mentally. Those officials certainly hated him, but he doubted whether they would risk their careers to get a little revenge. It was more likely to be an inmate, which didn't provide many more clues as the group of Aryan brothers in the block were out to get him, as well as Summers and the Arabs. He got up, held forcibly in place by his shackles. You never expected anything like this, Almeida! Sanchez is right, you spend too much time living in the past. Forget all that, its over! Only this is real, this prison, where you've got to be 100 percent alert all the time. You better pull yourself together quick if you hope to survive.
Deep in thought, he was pulled back to the present by the door's opening. Two guards entered, unshackled his leg and placed the baton to his neck. Tony followed them meekly down the corridor and out of the administration block, across the courtyards and into the SHU. He was returned to his ground floor cell where he had spent the previous afternoon. Once his wrists were freed he sank onto the bed, rubbing his forehead, attempting to soothe a raging headache. He desperately hoped his lawyer would find the erased footage on the security tape without the need to bother Michelle, who was obviously up to her neck in work. The last thing he wanted was to be a distraction to her. If he was honest, he would prefer her to remain ignorant of the latest problems facing him. The charges were baseless, ridiculous even.
The day dragged by and what seemed hours later he ate his dinner on the floor, his tray propped on his knees, unenlightened as to his defense's progress. All he knew for certain was that he would be released the moment his lawyer succeeded in refuting his charges, and if that failed to eventuate, he would be taken before the court that sat once a month within the prison to be formally charged and almost certainly convicted. Few brought before the court ever escaped conviction, especially as their lawyers' were effectively prohibited from investigating the alleged crimes. He chewed his food slowly without tasting any of it, remembering the previous two occasions he had been up before a court. The first was of course his treason trial, where he had been sentenced to life behind bars, and the second was in prison after his failed escape, a trial at which he had only been permitted to enter once the verdict was handed out.
He could sense the following few days would be long, filled with dread. Tony longed for news but doubted he would receive any. Once his plate was empty he returned his tray to the slot and paced his cell, two and half steps from the door to the wall and back again, his hands clasped behind his back The president's hardly gonna view Jack's request for your pardon favorably should you get charged with dealing! He'd certainly refuse, even if he had any intention of releasing you. You CANNOT allow this conviction to stick, Almeida, you really cannot. He bowed his head, watching his feet in his ill fitting shoes that flapped more than usual without laces. It's real stupid, removing the laces! As though anyone would hang themselves with it! All it does is inconvenience the prisoner, especially during exercise period. Damn shoes keep falling off your feet, and they'll be certain to give you blisters. Almost worth leaving them in the cell and sneaking out barefoot! Interesting to see how far you'd get… Not that he would try such a thing. The guards in the SHU were constantly on the alert for any hint of disobedience and would interpret such an action as a flagrant violation of prison discipline.
Tony kicked his shoes off, watching them fly through the air and bump into the wall, landing in the middle of his tiny space. Slowly he bent and placed them behind his bed, resuming his pacing in his socks. Why did this have to happen now? Things were just beginning to settle. He rubbed his face, hanging his head. That's not entirely true, Almeida! Those Arabs just arrived, and it appears they're out to get you.
Five days later he received the familiar order to stick his wrists through the slot. Tony rose from the floor where he had completed his 300th push-up and pulled on his shoes, forcing his arms up behind him. Once they were cuffed he moved to the back of his cell and faced the wall, heart beating wildly. They had come to escort him somewhere, that had to mean his lawyer had been successful!
To his surprise he found the man waiting for him in the interrogation room he was led into, a grave expression on his face. 'Good afternoon, Tony,' he began. 'Sit down.'
Tony snorted, feeling a hand on his shoulder pushing him into a chair. 'Ok, I will! Hi Paul.' He waited until the guards left, slamming the door behind them. 'Did you get anything?' he asked eagerly. His lawyer remained silent, the frown on his face deepening. 'Tell me you got something, Paul,' Tony begged, aware his request was illogical. His expression indicated his obvious failure; he just refused to accept it. 'Paul, how come they let you speak to me? It's against their protocol.'
The lawyer settled opposite him. 'I spoke to Michelle,' he began. Tony's heart skipped a beat.
'How is she?' he interrupted, ignoring the need to focus on his charges during the lawyer's limited visit.
Paul Sikorski shook his head. 'She sounded fine, obviously concerned about you. I explained what happened, and she insists you're innocent. She was going to fly down and attend your trial, and had a hard time comprehending that it's strictly an internal matter. Tony, she called the warden and arranged for me to have a free hand conducting this investigation. First thing I did, I searched your cell. I questioned your cellmate.'
Tony folded his arms. 'Sanchez had no hand in this either,' he assured his lawyer.
'I concur, though it was highly inadvisable for you to take the charges alone. We could have pleaded he had a hand in it and you were unaware of his dealing, it would've raised doubt in the mind of the judge and I might have managed to get you off.'
'You would've pinned it on Sanchez!' Tony said, shaking his head. 'No, Paul, that would be wrong.'
His lawyer shrugged. 'Well, thanks to you it's irrelevant now. Your neighbor spoke to me, a certain ex-federal agent Haughton. He offered to help in the investigation. He's been invaluable. So far he advised me where to check for fingerprints, and gave me a long list of those convicts who bear you're a grudge, so I can compare them.'
'Did you get anything?' Tony inquired eagerly.
'Not yet. None of the prints in your cell match anyone on the list, so the only thing we've got to work on is the bag itself. That's problematic; we've had to send it away for analysis. However, there's one piece of good news you'd like to hear.'
Tony folded his arms. 'I could sure use some right now, Paul.' His heart leapt again at the mention of "good news."
'Michelle analyzed the security footage. There was indeed evidence of tampering. They managed to discover the exact spot the tape went into a loop, that's the good news. I'll bring it up as evidence to back you. Unfortunately, however,' he continued, holding up a hand to keep Tony silent another moment, 'we were unable to find the real footage. It was destroyed. You understand, Tony, that this missing footage won't amount to much.'
Tony nodded. 'Yeah. But it's something, right?'
His lawyer nodded. 'Now we're just waiting for the lab to return the bag. Are they treating you well, Tony?'
Tony nodded. 'Well enough, under the circumstances. There's no way I could take a year of it, though.' He lowered his eyes, longing to hear a reassuring comment.
'This case is going to be heard on the 23rd. Even with the prints identifying someone, it'll be hard to prove they were not collaborating with you. I'm just preparing you,' he added kindly.
'Preparing me?' Tony echoed, raising his eyes. 'You're telling me I got no chance?'
His lawyer rose. 'I'm doing my utmost, but you sure don't make my job easy. You'll be required to plead not guilty. I'll see you there.'
Tony nodded, so deep in thought he barely remembered to thank his lawyer. The return trip to the SHU passed in a blur as his mind raged against the situation. It was wrong, he had been framed and he was almost certainly going to be handed a severe punishment.
It seemed quieter than usual in his tiny cell once the echo of the door's slamming behind him died away. Tony stood in the middle of the room, unable to pick a spot to sit down. He ran his eyes over the walls, shaking his head in disbelief. Someone must have cursed you, Almeida! It sure seems as though this will be your new home for a year.
They came for him two days later, leading him into a tiny courtroom fully restrained. Tony noticed his lawyer, a panel of people he had never seen before and the warden together with a prison official who was obviously present as a prosecutor. He was seated beside his lawyer who gave him an encouraging nod. Almost before he could settle the door opened again and the judge entered. Tony's heart sank as he rose, recognizing the man as the same one who had dealt with his escape. He's not gonna cut you any slack, Almeida, he'll throw the book at you this time!
His fears proved well founded. Tony was ordered into the witness stand and he pleaded his innocence, insisting he had no knowledge of any narcotics. The judge actually scoffed at his words. To his dismay he was removed from the courtroom once his plea was finished, not being permitted to remain and hear the rest of the trial. 'I want a summary of Convict Almeida's behavior whilst inside the penitentiary,' the judge demanded just before he reached the double doors. The final thing he heard was his lawyer objecting, arguing that this case was a separate issue and should be dealt with as such. He was over ruled as the door was shut behind him and two guards returned him to the SHU. Tony sank onto his bed, praying for divine intervention, aware he would receive no mercy from the court. Long hours passed without news, while he alternately paced his cell or leaned against the wall in the back corner, attempting to picture the trial.
Just before lights out his slot opened and the warden peered inside. 'Get up, Almeida!' Tony rose, filled with apprehension. Whatever he had to say was bound to be bad news as far as he was concerned, the failure of his lawyer to return signaling his complete defeat. 'You've been found guilty as charged! Your lawyer has some insane hope of clearing you once the fingerprints on the bag return, but it won't succeed. Those prints are only partial, insufficient to do anything to help you. You've been sentenced to a year in the SHU, and after that you'll be transferred.'
Tony remained silent, his face impassive.
'Aren't you the least bit curious where they'll send you?' The warden appeared keen he should inquire about the location.
'Yes sir,' Tony replied in monosyllables.
'Well, I can't tell you!' Warden Jeffries appeared to derive great satisfaction from his final sentence. 'It's classified. But I can tell you one thing, you won't be receiving terribly many visitors!'
Tony's heart sank, his worst fears confirmed. 'Why are you doing this, sir?' he inquired softly. 'You know I had nothing to do with this.' A picture of his parents entered his mind unbidden and he drew a deep breath, numbing his heart.
'Oh, a year here would be just the thing to settle you down, convict,' replied the warden, satisfaction in his voice. 'It's amazing what a year of solitary does to the most obstinate troublemakers. You had it coming!' The bar over the slot was lowered, leaving Tony alone in his cell.
A terrible night passed, Tony sitting on his bed, not daring to rebel openly by pacing, but totally unable to lie still. Why the hell did you even try to behave, Almeida? Did it help you, accepting all those insults? Look where they locked you up now! You really didn't deserve this! His heart burned in indignation, refusing to accept the injustice. One whole year locked away from the world. How are you supposed to live, without knowing they're all okay, mom and Papa, Michelle and the rest of them? How can you not have a clue? Nobody disturbed him as the hours dragged by.
Exhaustion took its toll shortly after breakfast and he fell asleep on top of the bed, dreaming of judges standing in a row, all waiting to convict him of something, while he howled his innocence. His lunch tray banged in the slot woke him and he ate automatically, returning to his corner once it was removed. Head on his knees, he imagined his parents before him. 'I didn't do it, I swear,' he whispered, sure they would believe him. He was never less than completely honest with them, as they were with him.
His slot was opened the next morning and a guard yelled at him to wake him from an exhausted sleep after a second night of self recrimination. 'Get up at once, convict. You'll regret it if I have to come in!'
Tony rubbed his eyes and stumbled over to the slot, pushing his hands out, struggling to collect his thoughts. What could they want him for at this hour? Totally numb, he followed the guards out of the SHU and over to the administration block. Must be my lawyer, bringing me a copy of my new sentence. His heart skipped a beat once they passed the corridor where interrogations were held and continued to the warden's office. Oh God, what now? Have they managed to pin something else on me?
The guard knocked on the door and he was told to enter. Tony was given a push that propelled him over the threshold as his body refused to obey his instructions to move. Warden Jeffries sat at his desk writing, a scowl on his face. They were kept waiting five minutes before he turned his attention to the group. 'Almeida, you've got more lives than a cat,' he remarked, his disgust evident.
Tony studied him with a faint glimmer of hope. The man was clearly irritated about something to do with him. He had been so in favor of the harsh punishment meted out to him just two days before, could that possibly have been revoked? Please God, let those charges be dropped.
'We matched the finger prints to an inmate inside this penitentiary,' he began in his nasally voice. 'That person confessed to bribing an officer to plant some incriminating evidence on you.'
He nodded, studying the wall just past the warden's head. 'May I ask who it was, sir?'
The warden glared at him. 'You may not! This incident is being dealt with BY ME!'
Tony listened silently, thanking God. 'Am I free to return to my cell?' he asked, looking the warden in the eye.
He nodded reluctantly. 'Yes you are, this time. Let this serve as a lesson to you. Don't seek trouble in the future. If you continue to do so, I'll have you back in the SHU within the month! I will no longer tolerate any infractions, Almeida.' He gave Tony a hard look before ordering the guards to return him to D Block.