Warning, I have changed the rating of this story for it's content that will eventually show up later on.
A small smile graced Roman's face as he looked down at his little angel, at least the picture of her. She was smiling really big, showing off the features she was graced to have. She was the only brightest thing in his life at the moment, a shining light in the doom and gloom of being in prison.
"When are you coming home, Daddy?" His little girl asked him, bringing his mind back to the phone call he was on.
"Not for a while, Sweatheart. I promise though, you'll see me again. Love you, Babygirl."
"Love you, Daddy." He heard her sigh in return. "Bye, bye."
"Bye for now, Baby." And then he hung up.
"Yo, Reigns!" Glancing over his shoulder, Roman spied his two friends approaching. "Time for Chow Hall. Wanna join us or what?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, coming." He replied.
They got in line with the other inmates that were lined up to go to lunch. Roman was aware of the stuffiness in the air, particularly around Cena. That CO had been watching Ambrose, Rollins and him ever since they had returned from the Warden's office. Convinced they had snitched more than likely, Roman knew that it was only going to get worse around the prison for them.
"Bleachers on the South Side during rec time." Dean said, having taken up the middle spot between Roman and Seth. "We need to go over strategy for later."
Oh yes, Roman thought, the man that the Warden wanted them to off for him.
South Side, that was like a mutual gathering point for a lot of people, those not really sticking to their own races. Because of Seth's mixed heritage, he had been bounced back and forth between the White and the Southern Hispanics for a long time until he joined forces with Dean and Roman. There weren't a lot of Samoans in prison, except for Roman's two cousins being held in a different cell block in the prison. Then there was Dean.
"Hey man, I was wondering something," Roman said as they waited in line for the food trays. "You spoke about why you're here, but why aren't you with the Whites?"
That got a laugh out of Dean. "Because I don't follow that shit about one pure race. Gotta say, though, they stopped coming after me when I attacked them back. Messed up a few of their boys, showing them I'm not raising my ass to them."
Rape, that was something Seth didn't want to think about. Fresh meat were always the targets, and he had been targeted repeatedly because of his cute looks.
"Why are you asking?" Dean asked.
"Just something some of the boys on my tier were talking about. No one gives you shit, that much I do know."
With no support from anyone outside of the prison, Dean had to survive, and hustling the way he did was the only way he knew how to make money. Much like the Warden had done, he would get contracted hits out on someone and he'd get paid to do it. So, where there was money involved, Dean was there to do whatever it took to get the money.
Chow Hall, Mess Hall, it was all the same no matter what anyone called it. The room was as big as any cell block, large enough to hold the population of one cell block at a time, and that's how it worked in this prison.
As cell block 1A was getting into the Chow Hall the last of Cell Block 2C were just leaving to go out for their rec time. Tables fitting five inmates at a time, there were close to about fifty inmates in Cell Block 1A. It wasn't a confined area, a lot of leg room and the smells of food floated amongst the BO of men in orange jumpsuits.
By the time Dean, Seth and Roman had gotten their food, there was about ten minutes left for chow hall. The table they usually placed themselves at was empty, except for Roman's two cousins, also apart of the Samoan Syndicate.
"Jimmy, Jey, how goes it?" Roman asked placing his tray on the table.
"Word is floating around about a fight out at rec." Jimmy responded, looking at Jay for confirmation.
"When?" Seth asked.
"More than likely today." The second twin answered. Jay looked around. "Between the Aryan and Mexican Mafias."
"That's what Superman was trying to get out of us." Dean grumbled, glaring at his bologna sandwich. "At least the only good thing is the orange included in this shit hole meal. How can you eat this crap, Seth?"
Seth, happily eating whatever he had on his plate, just looked back at Dean. No sense trying to fight it. Swallowing the bite of sandwich, Seth laughed.
"It's easy, just don't think about it."
"Heard you three got sent to the Principle's office. What did he want?" Jimmy asked.
"Nothing, really." Roman answered stirring around the partially hardened macaroni and cheese before eating it.
"We're not snitches, if that's what you think." Dean said.
"Hell, you three live by the code," Jay said pointing with his fork. "What are we worried about?"
"You have to worry about being on the wrong side of the Justice., Jay." Dean smirked, looking up at the two twins with a glint of pure sadistic joy. "Wrong us, we won't hesitate to end your life even if you are related to one of us."
Roman didn't attest to it, he nodded along with Seth in that.
"It may be perverse Justice but if you do us wrong you're definitely are against us." Dean went on before settling on eating the food that would eventually eat him back.
The twins knew it was no joke. Instead of staying with their own races, they were their own gang and feared by anyone.
"I think we need to do that." Jay said nodding over to where a group of slightly transgender men were gathered. "They got the right idea, selling their goods like a shop."
Seth glanced over at where the shemales were sitting. What Jay was talking about is how some of the men supplied their money issues with hustles of a different kind. They had handmade cards and stuff like that showcased out on one side of the table while the four inmates sat around talking amongst themselves. A fifth inmate came up, one of the Mexican Mafia gang bangers, who had a small wad of money hidden in his hand.
"Wonder where his holmes got the money." Dean said seeing the hand off.
Cash money was contraband in prison, which meant it came into prison in some of the most unconventional ways- usually girlfriends or wives hiding it somewhere on them. Most people had some sort of art skills, drawing and paintings being made and sent out to be sold for money. But then there are those like Dean that needed to force people to give them what they wanted.
"Where ever it came from, I don't want to know." Seth said as he finished off the rest of his food.
"Yeah, I'm with you on that." Roman said.
"Come on, finish off this shit, Roman. We need to get out to rec soon." Dean turned to look at the muscle of The Shield.
"Right."
For inmates in general population, there is a better chance of having rec time longer than normal. Two hours of outside time is given to each cell block after chow hall. The rec area is as large as a football field with different sections with invisible boundary lines. Whites with white, blacks with blacks and other nationalities with their own kind. Then you have the small set of bleachers where anyone who isn't apart of any group were located.
Sitting on top of the bleachers, with an eagle eye on everything around him, Dean could see everything.
"Kurtis Soft, know anything about him?" Dean asked, spotting the man with a small group of men from their cell block.
"No, not really. Other than coming here for murder, I think he killed his wife." Seth said looking towards where some of the whites were standing around.
Roman nodded. "Yeah, he keeps to himself from what I have seen, unless he hangs with the whites."
"Does he have a cellie?"
"If he does, I haven't seen one." Seth said.
Kurtis Soft was talking to some of the whites in their area next to the tables. The blacks hung around the basketball courts where there was a constant game going on. Unless someone was locked up in the hole, the general population were grouped together.
"If we get caught we could get sent to the hole." Seth shook his head at the thought. "I don't think I could handle that."
"You don't say no to the Warden." Dean looked at the youngest member of The Shield. "Some of these guys haven't been released yet because they defied him."
"Then Soft is a dead man walking." Roman said as he found the guy in question.
For the most part their time outside was about two hours. With soft fluffy clouds floating on by with help of an unnaturally cool breeze for Florida. Usually hot and muggy, hard to breathe during this time of year, it was a day that would more than likely turn to bloodshed.
"Oy, you two, three I mean." A highly British accented voice called out. "Bad news, Ambrose. Collins is not paying up." The man dropped down on the bench below the three men.
"I'll deal with him later, Barrett." Dean responded. "What about the others?"
"Well, you got them weeing their trousers, but yeah, they are paying up their dues with your bets."
"You'll get your half, Roman. Don't worry." Roman grunted in response to Dean's statement.
"Well, need anything else, just ring me up…" Barrett started to leave.
"We've got a job you might be able to help with, Wade." Dean suddenly said, making the Englishman stop. "We've got a hit on a guy but to get to him we need a distraction. Think you can do that?"
"Easy, Mate. Nothing to worry." Wade flipped his hand. "When?"
"Today, when we head in from here. He's up on the same tier as Roman. Kurtis Soft."
"Wife killer, and talks about him raping some girl in Miami?" Wade whistled slightly. "What he do to get a hit on him?"
"Talking smack about a child." Roman spoke up. "The way I see it the bastard deserves to get shanked. You don't hurt children."
"Mate, I know the feeling," Wade grumbled as he plopped down. "Yet, assaulting an officer put a target on my back with the COs around here."
Sure enough, Dean could see Cena standing off in the distance watching the four of them like a hawk. His massive arms crossed, causing his shirt to be pulled across his chest like a second skin. Granted, Dean was more lean than Cena, but he didn't need muscle to prove who was the better man.
"So I get the bastard to go to his cell and then what?" Wade asked.
"Keep him there until we approach. After that, get your ass out of there. If it goes down, then I assure you people are going to go to the Hole on this one."
"Someone shoved a shiv in a duct up on the third tier, under the third window. If you need it, go get it." Wade stood up. "You have my word, I'll get my part done for you."
Dean knew that Wade's word could be trusted. The former European street brawler was just as cunning as Dean. He proved a true asset to Dean on numerous occasions. This time Dean could trust the Englishman.
"I got the shiv." Seth said. "I'm a bit faster than the two of you, I can get it fast and quick."
"Okay, Roman will block him from actually leaving the cell." Dean jabbed a thumb at their third friend.
There was a risk involved. If any of them were to be sent to the Hole, then anything they had going would be taken away instantly. Roman's time with his daughter and family, Seth's daily jogging and yet Dean didn't have much to loose. Roman sighed. This is what he got for being apart of The Shield. He wasn't counting on the Warden to make everything write, even though it was The Shield's ass on the line.
"You're worried." Dean said, not even looking at Roman. "If this shit goes down in a hail of pepper bullets, you won't see your kid."
"How do you know what I'm thinking, Ambrose?" The Samoan responded.
"I get into people's heads. I know how they work and how facial expression look. You're worried, that's all you are right now. You have the most to loose out of us. I get that. But this is a well paying job, one I need done."
"Who says I'm backing out just because I may or may not see my daughter again for a while? I've got at least six more years. By the time I'm out she'll be calling some other man Daddy."
"Hey, big guy, don't go thinking that. She loves you." Seth added, thwapping his friend in the shoulder. "So stop worrying and let's get our heads in the game."
Staying focused on this was difficult for the larger of the three men. He really didn't want to miss a day in his daughter's life but this was the life he had come to know over the years.
All he could really do was follow Dean and Seth back inside so that they could head back to their cell block to begin the hit.
And true to his word, Wade had cornered Soft in his cell. With a nod from Dean, Seth headed up on up to the tier where the shank had been hidden. They had to time it right, otherwise it would be disastrous. Either way, this was the time to act on their plan.
Roman headed down the range on the second tier. He could see Barrett talking to Soft in the cell, oblivious to what was going on. Dean was up behind him, Seth making his way behind Dean after getting shank. Shiv, shank, it was the same thing. It was a homemade weapon, usually melted plastic sharpened to a point. Razor blades attached to a plastic toothbrush handle for a slashing weapon. Even some are sharpened pieces of metal.
Wade had seen Roman coming, tossing Soft a sweet roll pastry for some coffee and then left. He passed Dean, nodded and then headed down the tier as fast as his long legs could carry him.
Other inmates moved out of the way, knowing something that was going to go down. They knew, word of mouth through the inmates was a fast one. Hits were given out all the time and with someone like Soft, well it was a matter of time before something was going to happen to him. The Whites weren't going to stick up for him, since it was probably a white that had informed the Warden about Soft.
"Soft," Roman said coming up to the cell.
There was Soft, sitting on the bottom bunk and going through his Commissary supplies. His head snapped up and he stood. He did have a cellie. That one was up on the top bunk, reading a dirty magazine. When seeing Roman standing at the cell door, he went back to reading the magazine, or looked like it.
"What?" Kurtis Soft said.
"I hear you like children." Dean said, coming up on Roman's side.
Clapping a hand on Roman's shoulder, Seth's head appeared between Dean and Roman. This was a cover so he could slip the shank into Dean's hand. "Did I miss anything."
"Not yet. You're just in time." Dean smirked at Soft.
Dean rushed forward, a hand grasping at Soft's shoulder and the right one stabbing him in the gut. Repeatedly, Dean stabbed him, and suddenly the alarm went off. Someone pulled an emergency fire alarm and Dean gave the order to run, leaving the shank in the cell.
Sorry for taking a while to update. This story will take a while. I've got other things going on right now. Anyway, what do you guys think?