Sorry this chapter took a little longer. I have been dealing with being sick, and when I am sick I don't have much of a creative edge to write. But here is the first chapter in the Icey Con. Hope you enjoy reading, and please I love your reviews.

Chapter Five

Neal spent several days gathering as much information as he could on Icey, from his fellow inmates. He did his best to do so in an inconspicuous way, trying not to attract attention to himself and his rather odd curiosity in the fearsome man.

He had learned that Icey was a member of a rather notorious gang in New York, known as The Blood Barons. He was in prison for the murder of three members of The Blood Barons who had been labeled traitors within the gang. However many of the inmates swore that he had killed more than what he served his time for. Neal had yet to see the man, as he was still in solitary, but the fear he heard in others gave him a clear picture of the type of man he was seeking out. Many of the inmates talked of him as if he were more than an average man possibly possessing sinister powers; some swore that evil began within his bloodline. But Neal knew that was their own fear talking, he could see passed the façade of horror, he knew he was just an average man. And like any man, he could be conned.

Neal walked out of the prison into the Rec. Yard. He paused as his eyes scanned the large open fenced in field. He saw Rocco to his left with his men leaning up against the fence. Rocco's eyes followed Neal as he moved across the field. He could feel their burning gaze upon him, he could sense Rocco was plotting to exact revenge upon Neal.

Neal spotted Levi straddling a metal bench on the opposite side. He began to approach him, ignoring Rocco's threatening glares. Once he was at Levi's side, Levi glanced up at him and gave a half smile, "Making any progress on that plan of yours?"

"Working on it. I need to ask you something."

"Then ask, but I can't promise that I'll answer."

"What's the best way for me to approach Icey when he gets out of solitary?"

"You're asking for trouble Picasso. Besides no one just walks up to Icey without getting passed his men first. And his men never let anyone passed them."

"Who are Icey's men?"

Levi turned his head and looked over at a group of men sitting at a table playing poker. "That's Icey's crew."

Neal turned and looked at the men. They were all covered in tattoos from head to toe. Three of the four had shaved heads. The men looked threatening without even saying a word. But the third man looked out of place, he was much smaller than the other three, his hair was disheveled and he had virgin un-inked skin. He even acted like he was where he did not belong the way he nervously fidgeted with his cards, constantly shifted his position. "Someone looks out of place."

Levi raised his eyebrows and glanced back at Neal, "Good eye. You're right, the light weight's not part of Icey's crew. He's a buy in."

"A buy in?"

"Yeah he bought his way into the game. He's trying to get protection by winning the game."

Neal eased down onto the bench beside Levi, "Protection? So if he wins the game Icey's crew grants him protection?"

"No, it doesn't matter if he wins or not he's crap out of luck. Well he's out of a lot more if he wins."

"Then why would he think that?"

"Because that's what all the new fish think, that's what Icey's men tell them. But it's just a scam."

"What happens if he wins?"

"He better pray he doesn't, cause if he does, Icey puts a hit out on his head."

"And if he loses he's none the wiser and in the same boat he was in before the game."

"Yep. It's a sick and twisted game."

Neal watched as the men played their game. He observed every move they made, every fidget and every tell sign they offered. After several minutes Neal looked back over at Levi, "What's the buy in?"

"We're not allowed money in prison, instead we are paid with what we call prison stamps, you buy in with those stamps. The buy in is $50. Why?"

"I want to buy in."

"What? I just told you it was a scam and you still want to risk your life for nothing?"

"I have an idea."

Levi rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know if you're brave or suicidal. How can buying your way into that game do you any good?"

Neal had a sly smile grace his lips as he looked back at the men playing poker, "You'll see. Do you happen to have a stamp?"

"Yeah sure, but there is no way I have $50 worth of stamps."

"That's fine, I only need one."

"One? How's that going to do you any good?"

Neal looked back at Levi and leaned forward slightly, his voice softened as he spoke, "I'm going to show you why you call me Picasso."

Levi frowned in curiosity as he watched his cell mate's confidence surmount. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm in here for bond forgery, how hard do you think it will be to forge a prison stamp?"

Levi's eyes widened as he began to understand what Neal meant, "You are crazy Picasso, you know that. Crazy."

"I need to see your stamp so I can figure out what I need to create the forgeries."

"I'll give it to you tonight when we are back in the block."

Later that evening Levi picked up a book that was laying on the top bunk. He opened the back cover and pulled out a piece of paper that was the size of a post it note. It was rather simple in design, much different than US currency. Neal's smile spread as he took the stamp from Levi's hand. "They don't exactly make these hard to duplicate now do they."

"Maybe not for someone like you."

"Who do I talk to about getting supplies smuggled into the prison?"

"That'd be Crazy-8. He can get just about anything, for a price."

"Of course, after all money does talk."

"There's a problem with your plan Picasso."

"What?"

"You've only been here three weeks, there is no way Icey or his men will believe you have been able to make that kind of money in here. And you defiantly don't have the look of someone that took it by force."

"That is a problem." Neal looked back down at the stamp in his hand. He knew he would have trouble passing this plan off on his own. He needed a partner. He looked back up at Levi, "But you could."

Levi held his hand up and waived it in front of Neal's face, "Uh uh. No! This is your plan. I have managed to survive on my own for four years, I don't plan on jeopardizing that record. You're on your own Picasso."

"Come on Levi, all you have to do is use the forged stamps for the buy in, then lose. That's it. There is no risk to you, I swear."

"How is this plan even going to work."

"I can't tell you. The less you know the better."

"Then I'm defiantly out."

"Levi, I can't do this without you. Trust me."

"Trust you? I don't trust anyone but myself. It ain't happening kid. If you can't do it without me, then I suggest you come up with a new plan, one that doesn't involve me." Levi turned and jumped up onto the top bunk.

Neal slid the stamp back inside the back of the book. He sat down on the bottom bunk and ran his fingers through his hair. He knew without Levi's help this plan would be much harder to pull off. But he was determined and he was willing to try even at the risk of it failing.

Neal discovered the materials he needed where already within the prison walls. It took him three days to retrieve them from the supply room, but it was much easier than he had anticipated. He knew the hardest part of this plan would be pulling it off without arousing suspicion from Icey or his men.

It took him two weeks to forge enough stamps for the buy in. He worked nights, depriving his body of sleep. He struggled to keep his work at a high quality despite his exhaustion. Levi often woke late at night to the sound of Neal's brush strokes against the surface. He looked over his shoulder several times and found himself amazed at the young man's ability. He was astonished that he was unable to tell the real stamp from the forgeries.

The night Neal finished with the last stamp; Levi sat up most of the night looking down at Neal from his top bunk as he worked his magic on the paper. Neal was so engulfed in his work he was unaware of his audience.

"You're incredible Picasso."

Neal was startled at the soft spoken words. He turned and looked up at the amazed look in Levi's eyes. "Thank you."

"When do you plan on using these?"

"Tomorrow."

"I still think you're crazy. But good luck, you're going to need it." Levi turned back around laying on his back his eyes staring up at the ceiling.

Neal looked back down at his almost finished stamp, his voice was soft and low, "Yeah. Thanks." He was worried that he would not be able to pull this plan off. But there was no turning back, at least not for Neal.

The next day when they were in the RecYard again, Neal was sitting on a bench; he was watching Icey's crew as they gathered around the table where they always sat for their poker games. Neal looked down at his hand where he held the five forged stamps that equaled $50. He could feel his nerves threatening to break free into trembling in his hands, but he masked it.

He watched as the men began to deal out the cards amongst themselves. He knew the moment he walked up to them and presented the buy in; he would be met with scrutinizing questions. They would be suspicious of him and his intentions. Of the strangeness of him coming across that amount, in such a short period of time. He knew he would have to play it cool, he would have to put on the best con he had yet to perform.

He stood up and began walking towards the men. He could feel his heart rate increase with each step he took, bringing him closer and closer to the danger that he could be placing himself in. He could hear his breathing quicken, he felt his palms begin to seep with sweat. He had never found it so difficult to maintain his suave persona. He feared the men would see right through him.

He was now only feet from their table, they had yet to notice him. He tried quickly to compose himself, to prepare himself for what lie in wait for him. He quickly closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, he tried to force his heart rate to calm. He swallowed hard then opened his eyes. The men were still oblivious to his presence, wrapped up in their own game. He was ready, at least as ready as he could ever be. He stepped forward and was about to announce his presence to the men, when he felt a firm grip on his arm. It jerked him backwards the spun him around. When his world stopped spinning, his eyes settled on Levi.

"You can't do this Picasso. It's signing your death certificate with your own hand."

"I'm not backing out. I'm doing this."

Levi looked down at the ground and gritted his teeth, he raised his eyes back up and stared at Neal, "I can't let you do this. I won't let you do this." He held his hand out with his palm facing up, "Give me the stamps."

Neal frowned, "You said you didn't want to be involved."

"Yeah, well, I changed my mind. Now give me the damn stamps before I change it back."

"You don't have to do this."

Levi gripped Neal by the arm and reached into Neal's shirt pocket, removing the stamps. "You mean I don't have to let you get killed?"

"Why?"

"Cause maybe I like having you around."

Neal smiled, "You like me?"

"Don't go getting all mushy about it." Levi shoved the stamps into his pocket and released Neal's arm. He looked back up at him and smiled, "But, okay yeah, I kinda like ya. Now get out of my way while I go lose these fake stamps in a poker game."