Chapter 9

Marco frowned as he leaned against the bar's surface, the drink he had just poured himself wrapped in his tapping fingers. He was troubled by what we had discussed so far. "Hey, wait a second. That control room is too far away from the main complex."

He pointed to the layout of the Kansas prison that Jeanne had somehow gotten her hands on. A history of confidential investigations and governmental computer hacks had made it a pretty simple job for her to retrieve detailed plans on the entire facility. We could see the size of every door, the length of each hallway, and the dimensions of each cell. The facility was massive, a population well over a thousand, including a majority of prisoners.

We were surprised to find that it was no longer a maximum-security prison. It had been downgraded to medium-security while we were absent. We weren't complaining, but we also knew not to assume it would make things easier.

As we sat around the map in Marco's lounge (or whatever you would call it), our first task was to pinpoint the key areas we would need to be active in. That was what concerned Marco. He had one finger on the layout map pointing to the building that contained the controls to the Visser's block. He moved another finger to the block itself, a highly secure building about halfway across the entire facility. "I don't think it's close enough…"

Jeanne nodded. "You're correct. The control room is deliberately far from the high-security block. That is why we need somebody here." She pointed her finger to a building that was roughly halfway between the control room and the Visser.

"On the roof?" I said, sitting back on my stool. "I'm not sure I like that idea."

Jeanne seemed to understand, but she continued to explain the other option. "Going inside the building is taking another risk. If the guards get suspicious, they will lock those doors, and there is no good place inside to morph."

"But might they get suspicious of a bird on the roof for so long?"

Marco huffed up a laugh. "What kind of weird universe are we living in where a bird on a roof is suspicious?"

"Ours, unfortunately…" I replied.

"It has the least risk, so I think it's better," Jeanne reasoned, tapping her long fingernail on that central building.

"Agreed," Marco said.

I looked up from the map that I had stared at for so long that my eyes began to ache. What I saw, behind Marco as he perched on his bar, was Santorelli looking abnormally conflicted. Till that point, I would have expected more contributions to the plan from him, but I realized that I was wrong when he turned away, unable to keep eye contact.

"And," Jeanne continued, waving a hand horizontally in the air. "We have somebody up here."

"So we have an outer observer – Tobias – keeping an overview," I summarised. "And we have somebody planted near the center of the facility to keep constant communications, in case somebody goes out of range."

"Who?" Marco asked.

I was quick to my decision. "Sarge."

Marco didn't look convinced. "Are you sure, man?"

"I'm sure."

Marco gave me an indication that he trusted my decision. He knew when I was certain, and certain I was.

"That leaves three of us," I said to Jeanne.

"Yes," she agreed. "I think we should have one here." Her finger moved to the control room.

"One person in the security block, then," Marco nodded. "Are we pushing the buttons?"

Jeanne responded. "No, Marco. We will be there at 7 AM. That is when the Visser is checked for the first time. A guard will be operating the doors, and you watch. You will say when the doors are being opened and closed."

"So that's my job?"

"Do you want it?"

A sly grin appeared on him. "Anything for you."

Jeanne rolled her eyes. "Now is not the time, Marco… I have looked at the Visser's schedule. His is different from other prisoners, and the procedures are different. That is why the doors are controlled from so far away."

"And that leaves us two," I mentioned.

Jeanne tapped on the Visser's block. "You and me. If one of us gets stuck behind a closing door, then hopefully another won't. We go as fly. We follow the guards that check on the Visser and stay when they leave. We will disable the camera, then question the Visser."

"And when we've got what we want?" Marco pressed.

Jeanne smiled. "We go. Somebody will come to fix the security camera, and we fly out with them. Everybody leaves their post, and we go home."

Marco rubbed at his facial hair and raised an eyebrow. "How long till they figure out their camera's dead?"

Jeanne shrugged. "You will tell us. The guard in the control room will see that it is broken. When he does, you will tell us."

"Or the mission fails," I concluded. "Could be sussed in a minute, could be an hour."

"As soon as the guard spots it, you tell us," Jeanne firmly reinstated, hammering home the seriousness of the message. "Can you do that?"

Marco smiled back at her. "No problem. You can count on me. How about I pour you a drink to celebrate?"

Jeanne gave him a sideways glance. "Maybe if you do your job well, we will all have a drink to celebrate a good day's work."

I shook my head, hiding from him a knowing smile. With the initial plan laid out, we could establish it with the others. Santorelli had already listened to a lot of it, but he had remained nearby, watching from a distance. I noticed him and finally approached, taking my place at the counter.

"Seems like a pretty solid plan," he said to me when I leaned up at the bar beside him. "Jeanne's got brains. A lot of 'em."

"I think Marco would be jealous," I replied. "If he wasn't so desperate to date her."

"Yeah. I see that. Monkey man just ain't got the moves," Santorelli said.

"Sarge," I sighed. "When you first came along with us… I get that you wanted to help me out because I had taught you the last few months."

He stiffened up, raising his shoulders. "Boss, I've been in the US army since the day I left school. Wanted to be like my Dad. He always told me to fight for what's good and fight for my country. Then the Yeerks killed him, and I told myself that the good thing - the thing I could do for my country - was to kick them right square in the balls. To go with you was my chance to set the record straight with those cocksuckers."

"You still have that chance," I suggested.

He looked off into the distance with a firm gaze. "Doing this means that I'm fuckin' around my own country, the guys I said I'd die for."

There was no easy answer I could give him. "Sarge, it's up to you. You're not being forced into this."

"I said yes to this," he spoke with his trademark sternness. "I made up my mind a while ago. Doesn't mean I won't do what I think is right, even if it fucks me in the process."

We stayed in Marco's room for a while, going over some of the plan's more minor details. I watched Santorelli throughout, judging his reactions and his facial expressions, seeing exactly where he was becoming conflicted and where his determination would be at its strongest.

He had dedicated his life to me when he agreed to board The Rachel. Now, his dedication to me was ordering him to break the laws of the nation that he grew up wishing to protect.

But I saw motivation in him. He had told me previously about how his father lost his life to the Yeerks. Santorelli was not the sort to forgive those who took his one remaining family member from him, and when his opportunity came along to avenge both his father and his country, he couldn't refuse.

Nevertheless, I couldn't ignore his inner battle. I wouldn't trust him in Marco's position, nor in my own or Tobias'. I wasn't going to tell him, but I wanted him in a less stressful role on this particular mission. I had enough faith that his discipline and willingness to avenge his father would pull him through.

His occasional steely glances of fortitude only served to add to my confidence in him.

((Guys!))

Up till then, our conversations had been subdued and calm. The sudden burst of Tobias' thought-speak in our heads caused us all to jerk out of our slumped positions. The Red-Tailed Hawk flapped in through the open window and immediately began to preen his feathers.

((We're back,)) he uttered.

We all jumped to our feet and moved to the window, large enough for us all to gaze out onto Marco's driveway.

"You'd better have bought something good," Marco warned Tobias. "You're not the kind of bird I'd usually trust to buy a car."

((It's not a car,)) Tobias rebutted.

As we looked down past the windowsill, we spotted Menderash gawking back at us, hand over his eyes to block out the Sun. Behind him was our brand new RV.

"You're right," Marco replied. "It's a dump."