FBI Headquarters
26 Federal Plaza, New York
A woman sits in a corner office full of windows, when her partner in a matching black tailored suit and tie comes anxiously rushing through the door.
"We're all set on the Reznikov execution."
"Good."
"Except for one thing, Bishop McMorrow is not in the fold….he's got a lot of influence with the Governor…they went to Prep School together apparently", Agent John Bennett edges closer to her desk, his face red with emotion…
"Look, the closer he gets… the more I'm worried the bottom is going to fall out of this whole thing!"
Agent Natalie Figueroa slammed her hand on her desk, and leans her weight fully back in her office chair. She looks the side in obvious frustration, swiping her hand through her dark hair. Her sigh is one of a decision not lightly made, "Well then I guess its time we paid a visit to the good Bishop."
Bennett nods his head, looking down at the ground...his face the visage of guilt.
"Look, I know you're scared…but just give me one month and I promise this will all be over.", Figueroa rises and pats her partner on the back in reassurance. She can't afford for his weakness…not now…they were too close.
Prison Ministry
Achievement is never an accident. It is always the result of a commitment to excellence, intelligent planning, and focused effort.-Stephen Hawking
The light streamed in through the paneled glass on the scattered patrons of his mid-afternoon sermon.
"The son of man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and crucified, and on the third day …he may rise again, renewed. These are his words to trust in and so should you…Good day, Ladies, may God be with you."
The small, balding man looked out on his flock of sinners...his eyes coming to rest on a woman four pews back directly seated near the aisle. The light seeming to glint off her handcuffed wrists and short red hair, she was a regular. She rose, body defeated in posture, head down…shuffling her feet as if to extend any possible seconds that she might escape her cell.
Suddenly, she lifted her head...the sight before her in this hellhole was like a hallucination. She hadn't seen those tendrils of long, black hair since her college graduation five years prior. Her eyes, her smile, those black framed glasses….all left Red speechless with wonder... why was she standing here...now and more importantly in an orange jumpsuit. They stood face to face but a few feet apart.
"Alex?...why…?"
O'Neill made his way toward her as she was to be ushered back to solitary just as she took steps toward Alex, desperate for a few seconds to talk.
Alex's face was set with determination, "Because…I'm getting you out of here."
Red's mouth fell open, unable to form a response. O'Neill barked as he drew closer…'Reznikov, let's go…no talking to other inmates'.
She put her head down, shaking it in denial… mumbling…"It's impossible"
Alex's eyes glittered with confidence, "Not when you helped design the place it isn't...".
Her words fell on Red's ears with a realization that she hadn't known what Alex had been doing with her structural engineering degree since or where she had been working…they held eye contact in those seconds after…Alex's full of secrets and hers full of worry….what had Alex done to herself.
As she forced away from her and down the hall…Alex's words kept echoing in her head..
"I'm getting you out of here…", "I'm getting you out of here…" Hope was the most dangerous thing you could have when you sat on death row, 31 days from execution.
...
A/N …And there it is…ladies and gentlemen ..the bomb has been dropped…Alex robbed the bank specifically to be put in Litchfield with the sole intention of breaking Red out.