Epilogue - 'The Island' - Cell #4 - 4/19/89 - 7:30am
"Jaime - wake up." She opened her eyes to see Chris standing outside her cell. "Wanna come upstairs with me and have a decent breakfast, instead of the hard roll and water you're getting down here?"
Jaime rolled over to face the rear of her cell, her back to Chris. "I'd rather be hungry."
"Suit yourself."
When Chris was gone, she sat up and stretched. "You were 100 percent right in not taking him up on that, Babe," Oscar told her.
"I know," she answered, facing away from the camera. "Too high a price for me. I'm not selling my soul for bacon and eggs; not even for Belgian waffles -"
Footsteps were coming down the stairs. Jaime tuned in, listening as closely as she could. At least two pairs of boots - guards, she figured. She could hear one other pair, softer soles. Civilian? A very familiar civilian...
"I have a Presidential order! The little basement prison is shutting down, effective immediately. If I have my way, your whole unit will be history. And the two prisoners are leaving with me. Once again, Presidential order."
Jaime nearly cried with relief: Steve!
"Fine - take 'em. Your funeral. The woman especially has a mouth - and an attitude - you wouldn't believe!"
"I would believe it," Steve said, knowing she was listening. "I'm still taking both of them. Try and stop me and you'll not only have the OSI to contend with, but as much of the strength of the US Army as it takes to reduce this entire hellhole to rubble."
"Whatever you say, Colonel."
The cell doors clicked open. Steve made sure Oscar was safe and able to stand and then he looked over toward Jaime. His eyes softened, and he moved closer to take her in his arms. "I can do this now, since you don't work for me." He smiled as Jaime buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed tears of relief. As he soothingly rubbed her back, he whispered in her ear: "C'mon, Miss Mouth & Attitude - I'll take you home. I told you I wasn't the enemy."
END