Hi. Sorry for the delay in posting but work's been really hectic and I've barely had a moment to call my own for ages. Anyway, I've finally found some time to post this update.

Hope you like. Please let me know! Thanks.

Chapter 11

"OK. I'll get the revised shift rosters for the holidays posted. Anything else? Fine, this meeting is ended. Thanks people." Captain O'Brien watched as his senior correctional staff began filing out. "Oh, Joe, can you stay awhile?" he asked.

Lieutenant Sawyer nodded and sat down again, giving him a questioning look. When the door had closed behind the others, O'Brien turned to him, "Bristow and Sloane, they've been on the Garbage Detail for over a month now. How's it going?"

"Officer Magruder says they're the best workers he's ever had. They're hard working, conscientious and have not created any disciplinary or security problems whatsoever. I know you think they may be planning an escape Connie but Magruder's been watching them closer than his teenage daughter's boyfriends and he reports they've done nothing even slightly suspicious."

O'Brien leaned back and considered, "Good, but warn him against getting complacent. These aren't the usual run of street criminals. They're well educated, highly intelligent, trained agents. That means they'll know as much or more as any of the hustlers and hoods we usually get in here. Their capacity for violence has already been demonstrated by their run in with the Latin Kings and we've got to assume that they're equally skilled in other areas associated with spying, like burglary, blackmail and the con game. Tell him and the rest of your people not to let their guard down around them for even a second. They are not the harmless businessmen they appear. If I had my way they'd be locked up in the SHU twenty-three hours a day until the trial."

"You sound like you don't like them." Sawyer noted with surprise, "and you've had almost no interaction with them. I've never known you have such strong views about an inmate before unless they were child molesters or serial killers! From what I read, even if they did kill this guy, they thought they were doing their patriotic duty."

O'Brien looked towards the flag draped from the stand in the corner of his office and nodded towards it, "I was a Navy Seal in 'Nam. I was proud of my uniform and what it represented. I was a patriot then and I'm one now, but what I saw, well … let's just say my idea of patriotism and the CIA's aren't the same! I see no nobility in torturing some kid by hacking off his fingers, then killing him. Plus, I got a record to uphold here. Since I became Guard Captain we haven't had a single escape and I don't want them to be the first. If anyone is capable of pulling off a break from this facility it's them. They will have the self-discipline, the skills, the ruthlessness and, much as I hate to admit it, the balls to do it."

Sawyer nodded as he got up to leave, "OK, I think you're over-reacting here but I'll remind Magruder not to ease up." he replied.

"Thanks. They're getting the standard 'pat down' when they return to their cellblock?" On receiving a nod from Sawyer, O'Brien went on, "From here on in, I also want them strip searched at regular intervals. I hope I am over reacting but my gut tells me we're sitting on a volcano here and it's only a matter of time before it erupts."

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Jack took a slug of water, trying to wash the after taste of the lukewarm meatloaf from his mouth. One of the advantages of working the Garbage Detail was that they got to eat lunch after the rest of the inmates had been served. Although this meant the food had already been sitting under the cafeteria heaters for an hour before they were fed, the mess hall was virtually empty and he and Sloane could talk without fear of being overheard.

He summarised the results of their month long review of the security arrangements. "The City truck arrives between 11:30 and 11:45 on Tuesdays and Fridays and takes approximately fifteen minutes to load the garbage before leaving. As a security measure the access gate to the outer yard is locked until the truck passes the main gate checkpoint on its' way out. We are confined to the inner yard from 11:15 until the main gate gives the all clear. During that period we are guarded by the Detail's C.O. and under the direct observation of two guard towers and then counted before being allowed to resume our duties. The access gate lock is electronic and can only be released from the Control Centre. I think we can rule out hiding in the outer yard and then slipping into the Garbage Truck when it leaves." he added dryly.

Sloane gave the remainder of his meatloaf a disgusted look before putting down his fork. He sighed, "You're right Jack. Whoever developed the security procedures here knows their job! We'll have to be more creative."

Jack nodded and gave him a tight smile, "With the exception of a few minor doors, all security functions in this facility are controlled by computer from the Centre. That's a tactical weakness in the system. If we can somehow re-programme it, we would be able to bypass all the security measures."

Sloane raised an eyebrow questioningly, "That's Marshall's area of expertise." he pointed out.

"You used to be quite good at accessing systems. The way you got into the FEMA telephone network when we were retrieving the plans for Camp Williams shows you haven't lost your touch. We don't need anything complicated, just a simple instruction for a particular door or gate to open on receipt of a given signal."

Sloane looked contemplative, "I might be able to do that, but I'll have to study the programme they're using and I doubt they're going to let me anywhere near any of the terminals."

"We empty the bins in the Control Centre." Jack pointed out. "Tomorrow, I'll create a diversion so you can review the computer system. But Arvin, remember, escape remains our option of last resort. Our ability to protect Sydney and Nadia from Elena would be seriously compromised as fugitives."

Sloane nodded his agreement. "Speaking of which, Shapiro has reported the outcome of his background checks on McCoy and Southerlyn. There's nothing useful on McCoy personally but he had a somewhat ambivalent relationship with his father who was a cop and, possibly, corrupt. We may be able to use that somehow but it's a long shot. Southerly, however, is a different matter. It appears that she is a lesbian who has yet to 'come out' at work. We should be able to exert pressure on her because of this. If nothing else, she could provide us with intel on McCoy's evidence and strategy."

Jack looked uneasy but he nodded as the mess hall guard yelled,

"Alright ladies, chow time's over. Get your butt's into gear and back to your assignments."

After a long look at each other which would have boded ill for the guard under almost any other circumstances, the two men got up, collected the trays with their half eaten meals and deposited them on the trolleys for the kitchen staff to deal with.

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Detective Ed Green unlocked the motel room door. "Here you are Mr and Mrs Alvarez. You'll be staying here until after the trial."

He went over and opened a connecting door, "This is Detective Mendez and Detective Connell. They'll work in shifts with me and Detective Briscoe. They'll always be someone on guard here. We'll be monitoring everyone who enters the motel and all your phone calls. You've been booked in under false names so no-one will be able to trace you here. You'll be perfectly safe but if you have even the slightest cause for concern or you want anything just knock on the door. OK?"

The elderly, frail looking couple nodded uncertainly but placed their suitcases on the bed.

"We have to go now." Lennie Briscoe said softly from the door, "but we'll be back at about six o'clock. We'll be bringing the Assistant District Attorney, Ms Southerlyn. You remember her? She's going to start prepping you to give evidence at the trial."

Eduardo Alvarez looked up from his unpacking. "This means you're giving my name to those animals' lawyers soon, yes?"

"Yes." Briscoe confirmed almost apologetically.

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McCoy sat in an interview room at the Manhattan Detention Centre watching Diego Rodriguez pacing. The interview wasn't going as well as he'd hoped. Although Rodriguez seemed happy enough to talk in generalities he was avoiding giving the specific information McCoy needed. Finally his patience ran out. "Mr Rodriguez, please let me remind you that your immunity deal is dependant on your testimony in this trial. If you don't co-operate, you'll grow old and die in places' like this."

Rodriguez looked at him like a cornered animal, "How can I be sure I'll live long enough to grow old?" he asked. "These men and the people they work for are ruthless and their arm is very long. If I help, they could kill me stone dead in my cell at anytime and what happens after the trial?"

"You're being held as a material witness and totally segregated from the other inmates. All the correctional officers assigned to your block have been with the Department for years and have excellent service records. Once the trial is over you can change your name and disappear. Sure they may be able to get at someone somehow or trace you after you're released, but if you don't co-operate I'll make sure you're placed in general population. What do you think your chances of survival will be then if they want you dead? Your best chance at living is to talk to me!"

Finally, Rodriguez nodded and sat down opposite him. "What do you want to know?" he asked.

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In the four weeks or so since the motions hearing Sydney and Nadia's lives had taken on a routine almost as regimented as their imprisoned fathers. When they weren't consulting with the lawyers or the CIA Manhattan office or giving media interviews, they would spend the morning shopping or sightseeing, visit their fathers in Riker's Island in the afternoon and watch TV in their hotel rooms or take in a movie or a show or sometimes visit a nightclub in the evenings. On Friday nights Vaughn and Weiss would fly in from L.A. and spend the weekend with them, leaving Sunday afternoon.

Christmas was only ten days away and Fifth Avenue was crowded with panic stricken shoppers and more leisured individuals enjoying the festive window displays as the two of them left FAO Schwarz after having bought gifts for Steven and Robin Dixon and Mitchell Flinkman. They intended to leave them at their hotel and then go on to the prison, arriving about 3:00 pm by which time their fathers would have finished their work assignment and had time to clean up.

"Vaughn and Eric said they'd spend the holiday with us." Nadia was saying, "And the hotel is going to town on holiday celebrations for the guests. They'll be parties and games and Christmas dinner! I know it's not the same as being home but …"

Sydney nodded, "There's no visiting Christmas Day, but we can see them for a couple of hours on the 26th." she finished.

Nadia sighed, "Do they do anything special to celebrate Christmas in American prisons?" she asked. "They try to In Argentina but here, I don't know. How would you normally celebrate the holiday?"

Sydney smiled, sadly, "Up to a few years ago I'd spend it with Francie and Will. We'd have a quiet meal, just the three of us, Danny, Charlie and whoever Will was seeing, then in the evening we'd throw a big party for all our friends. When I returned after that business with the Covenant my Dad brought a Chinese takeout over and we ate that. He had to leave after we'd finished and I spent the rest of the day watching old movies on television."

Nadia looked astonished. "That's the only time you spent Christmas Day with your father since you were a child and you ate Chinese! This would have been my first Christmas with my father and I was going to ask you what I should do!"

"Hey, after Mom left, well …my relationship with my Dad took a beating! We weren't close again until the last year really! Before all this happened I was sort of assuming we'd have the holiday meal together with Vaughn and Eric. I hadn't really thought beyond that."

As they were talking they had been walking down the street towards the subway, weaving in and out of the other shoppers. As they reached the steps down to the platforms a man rushed past them, knocking Sydney's arm and causing her to drop her parcels. He disappeared into the crowd without even offering an apology. After muttering an oath in the general direction he had gone, Sydney bent down to pick up her parcels.

"Thank God there's nothing breakable in here." she noted in an aside to Nadia as she scooped them up. Then she paused for a split second before standing up straight. "Let's get away from this madhouse before anything else happens." she added, leading the way down into the subway.

Once they were out of sight of street level, she turned to Nadia. "We're being followed." she said calmly and quietly. "A man, short, middle-aged, balding. He was outside the hotel when we left it this morning and I passed him when I went to the ladies room at Macy's during Brunch. He's behind us now."

"A cop, maybe a journalist?" Nadia asked.

"I don't know…"

T.B.C.