A/N: For the general setting of the story see the A/N of the prologue. As announced, times are still hard for Cal and Gillian in this chapter that is the start of at least one more lockdown chapter to come.
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The usual disclaimer applies (see prologue).
- Lockdown: Play Along -
"How could that happen?" Hines rarely yells at other people, but he is not able to restrain his anger this time. Some of his best men have retired lately and it feels as if he has been left to work with amateurs only. He holds the handset firmer than necessary. "Your job was to observe him 24/7 so that we can arrest him as soon as we get the information we are waiting for and you – what? – stand by and watch him get taken into custody for running a red light and driving too fast?"
The man he is talking about is Matthew Banida. He is the son of the leader of a terrorist organization they have been keeping under observation for years now. Based on the information Lightman gave his contact approximately half an hour ago, they will be able to arrest the man for some real crimes soon and not just take him into custody for a minor misdemeanor. They need the arrest as leverage so that they can offer his father a deal – dropping the charges against his son if he, in return, drops his plans to execute a terror attack. Save that the son needs to be outside of prison or a cell at a police station so that they can catch him in the act.
The voice on the other line is talking fast, but Hines barely pays attention. "No, you listen to me. I don't care how you do it. But you are going to fix it and you are going to fix it now, within the next two hours." Those damn budget cutbacks. The team leader he is talking to is a greenhorn.
Hines listens some more and loses his patience again. "I said I don't care. Just do it."
He hangs up and massages his temples. Days like this give him a headache. The observation should have been standard procedure. Not such a complicated mess.
The sound of the alarm is deafening so that it's difficult to hear what is going on outside. Some noise gets through though – yelling, running, bodies colliding or falling down. At least there is no gunfire. Yet.
Lockdown – as soon as Cal confirmed what Gillian had already assumed, they have somehow changed roles. He is not her actual patient, but it always felt as if the office was more her territory than his even if it only is borrowed for their undercover operation and belongs to neither of them.
Gillian let go of his arm she had grabbed the moment the alarm had gone off albeit she is still standing close to Cal, apparently having decided that it is a good choice to stay at his side until this is over. He hasn't moved, standing between her and the door, shielding her from whatever is about to happen.
"What now? And don't tell me not to worry," she asks.
Of all the possible scenarios, this one wasn't on Cal's list because a lockdown is very rare. Usually it is caused by an attempted escape or a riot, and unfortunately, the sounds outside don't sound like the former. That is the worst of all possibilities. A riot. Gillian trapped in here with him while angry, in some cases violent inmates are running amok. It is a medium-security prison. This doesn't mean, though, that it solely homes inmates who committed white-collar crimes or minor ones. There are also convicted murderers or rapists allowed to serve the rest of their sentence surrounded by lower safety measures than those of a maximum security prison because they did well. So, no, Cal won't tell Gillian not to worry because she is right to do so.
Therefore he doesn't answer her and doesn't even try to hide his concerned facial expression. If they want to get out of this more or less unharmed, she has to be highly alert. Gillian takes a deep breath and straightens herself, giving him a strained smile.
Cal didn't plan this. And this doesn't refer to the lockdown. Of course, he didn't plan that either. No, this refers to his unexpected and very intense feelings for the woman who is stuck in here together with him. Dr. Gillian Foster. Cal hated the entire idea of this last-minute undercover operation, thought out by office sitters, and was prepared to hate every minute of its realization. But then he walked into the office of the prison psychologist and saw her. He doesn't believe in love at first sight. Attraction, yes, but love... that is a different matter altogether. However, he has to admit that there was something beyond physical attraction that caught him right from the start. Dr. Gillian Foster somehow captured his imagination and has never let go ever since. Cal's implication that he is thinking about her when he is alone in his cell wasn't a bad come-on. Well, it was, but it also was the truth. He does think about her a lot and his thoughts have a, let's say, wide range – from her profession over her personality right down to the last, um, physical detail.
He looks at her strained smile, his hand reaching out and patting her arm to bolster her up, if only by reminding her that she is not alone in this. Cal caught a brief glimpse of Gillian's strength beneath her affectionate facade when she told, or rather not told, him about her fiancé. He doesn't exactly know what happened, but the mere thought that the bastard touched and hurt her on purpose is enough to make him clench his fists. Cal will do anything to keep her from getting hurt.
Just when Cal heads to the door to lock it, it flies open and the guard comes rushing in, his face and body language tense.
"Hands," he orders, addressing Cal.
No, Gillian almost shouts out. He's supposed to protect me. Don't handcuff him. Then she remembers that their first priority has to be to make sure that Cal's cover isn't blown and remains silent.
The guard handcuffs Cal and chains him to one of the heating pipes at the wall.
"Stay in here and lock the door," the guard says to Gillian, already on his way out, drawing his gun. "I can't take him back to his cell right now, but I'll come back to get you as fast as I can." He doesn't plan on coming back to save her. Gillian hears it in the way he squeezes the words out. An unconvincing liar. In spite of that, she nods, pretending she believes him. Whether she will get out of here or not will not depend on the guard, anyway.
The moment the guard is gone, Gillian locks the door behind him.
"We have to unchain you," she states.
Under different circumstances, that line would have been an opportunity for innuendo that Cal never would have wasted. As it is, Cal only smirks satisfied, "Finally got you thinking like a criminal."
Gillian ignores his comment, looking around for something she could use to free him.
"Check the desk for keys." Cal almost regrets that he has to interrupt her. He would have enjoyed to observe her efforts some more, but they can't afford to lose time. When he told her that his meetings with her were his emergency plan, he wasn't only talking about the phone calls and his opportunity to communicate with the outside world. He may not be James Bond even if he has the sexy British accent, but he has the one or other ace up his sleeve thanks to the precaution of his employer.
"Don't tell me what you don't know. Tell me what you know."
To say that he is merely angry would be an underestimation. By now, Hines is furious. First his team didn't avoid that Matthew Banida was taken into custody by the traffic police and now this. He stares at the flashing headline on TV, informing him about the breaking news. The screen shows a picture of the Federal Correctional Institution Cumberland. There is a lockdown, presumably due to a riot of some of the inmates. He has two people inside – Cal Lightman and Gillian Foster – and even if his superiors consider them expendable, he is not ready to lose another agent, let alone a psychologist that has never been on an undercover assignment before.
"Now can you tell me whether the riot is related to rumors that there is an undercover agent in prison or not?" he asks again. "You do realize that the lives of some of our own people are at stake?"
He is talking on the phone to their liaison office that has to be called in whenever something happens that potentially involves the press, like a lockdown with an undercover agent inside of the prison. Unfortunately, his contact person at the liaison office is another newbie, telling him that it will take some time to find out. Of course, it will. That's not the point. But Hines can literally smell the odor of failure through the phone. He doesn't need to rely on years of experience to know that it is a high-risk situation for Foster as a civilian and woman. The only question is how dangerous it will get for her. And if Lightman's cover is exposed on top of that, the situation will be even worse for both of them.
"Then better start right away," he barks, hanging up.
Given the timeline, it is too early. No one in prison can possibly know that Lightman leaked the information that is supposed to lead to the arrest of Matthew Banida. The arrest hasn't even taken place yet. On the other hand, prison is a dangerous place with arbitrary rules. Lightman received the information from another inmate, and maybe, that inmate talked. Who knows.
The original plan was to get Cal out of prison as soon as Banida has been arrested but keep him in there down to the wire in case something goes wrong and he has to gather more information. The original set-up has changed though. The liaison office will provide damage control if the assumption is publicly verified that the riot is related to rumors about an undercover agent in prison. Its task will be to obfuscate the facts so that the undercover operation remains confidential. The safety of Lightman and Foster has to come second by necessity.
Hines is tired. He has made it to the top, but on days like this he feels the toll it has taken in every fiber of his body. Too many lost or damaged lives, too many operations gone wrong. His headache has become worse.
He picks up his phone and calls his assistant. "Get Loker on the line."
Cal can tell that Gillian tries to remain calm while she is searching for the keys to unlock his handcuffs. He sees every micro expression from his position. Actually, she behaves exactly as he would have predicted it if someone had asked him beforehand. She has to be dead scared, but she manages to block her fear out, at least to a certain extent so that she functions enough to be a help and not a burden. It must be difficult for her to concentrate due to the noise outside that is crescendoing. A threatening composition, consisting of quick footsteps and aggressive voices. Sometimes a body even bumps up against the door, but for now it seems to happen accidentally when people (inmates? guards?) are running past the office.
Being a medium security prison, The Federal Correctional Institution Cumberland does not have a security housing unit, an area that is in permanent lockdown or can be closed off separately in case of a riot so that the other areas are not affected. In here, the security measures are rather low and the riot has already spread from the jail cells to the alleged safe zone where the administrative rooms are located. Therefore, the lockdown includes the entire prison. No one gets in; no one gets out. The outside world is not endangered. Inside the prison, though, there is no safe zone anymore. Everyone is fair game with a target at the back.
Gillian searches through the top drawer, then the bottom drawer. Thump. Thump. Again someone must have run past very close to the door. Sooner or later they will try to open it, Cal can literally see that thought on Gillian's face when she glimpses at the door and her facial expression darkens. He shares the same fear. Cal doesn't even dare to imagine what could happen if another inmate kicked in the door as long as he still is handcuffed and can't protect her. To be honest, it will be problematic for him to protect her, one way or the other, since he is on his own against a swirling mass of unleashed prisoners. Let alone that he is supposed to act like one of them. One step at a time. First Gillian has to find the keys and unlock his handcuffs; then he will somehow find a way to get her out unharmed.
There seems to be a fight right outside in front of the door. This time, the bump against the door is much louder. Apparently, someone was thrown against it. Gillian flinches and looks up, probably to check whether the door bends or withstands the pressure. Unfortunately, she stops searching for the keys in the progress, if only for a moment. They can't afford that. Cal has no idea when their luck will expire and one of the inmates will come up with the idea to check if the pretty psychologist is in her office, but his instinct tells him that it won't be long. Even if Gillian only treats few inmates, word got around by now that she is a sight for sore eyes.
"Just keep looking for the keys," he reminds her.
"You remember that I can read voices, don't you?" she asks rhetorically, feeling for the keys underneath the upper drawer. "So maybe you could at least try to feign confidence." Cal thought he had done that, but obviously she reads voices better than he fakes confidence in a desperate situation. "Wait. There is something." Gillian tears at something underneath the lower drawer. When he can see her hand again, she holds the keys out to him and smiles relieved.
"Someone in there?" The knock at the door is insistent and loud. They both freeze. "Hello? Dr. Foster? I think I need your help."
Gillian heads into Cal's direction, but he stops her. "No," he says quietly so that he can't be heard outside. "Throw over the keys and keep looking for the gun."
She is wide-eyed when he mentions a gun but does as told. Cal catches the keys and fumbles around with them to unlock his handcuffs. He recognized the voice outside. It belongs to a convicted murderer. Even worse, everyone knows that he is also a rapist and that leaves little doubt as to why he is here. The man is twice Cal's size. There is no way he will be able to hold him back with bare hands.
"Dr. Foster?" The voice outside chants teasingly. "Got an itch I need you to scratch."
"There is no gun," Gillian's voice is shaking. "Are you sure it's here somewhere?"
"Has to be." Cal has unlocked the handcuffs and approaches the desk.
"Hey!" More shouting and throbbing at the door. "Come out or I come in."
"Cal..."
Gillian's facade starts to crumble. He wants to assure her that nothing is going to happen, but that would mean to deny the imminent threat. So he only stops for a moment and touches her arm softly, half pulling her toward him, half pushing her aside so that he can continue the search. It is kind of a physical assurance that he will do everything within his means to protect her. Gillian leans forward in need of his proximity. She is so close that he can feel her breath on his face. He doesn't think about it, just raises his hand and tenderly skims his fingers along her jawbone. It is an intimate gesture, and yet, there is nothing odd or inappropriate about it. Then he has to turn away from her to continue the search. When they sent him in here, they told him keys and gun would be in the desk if it came to the worst.
The door vibrates due to heavy kicks from outside. It won't withstand much longer.
Cal pulls out the drawers, emptying their contents on the floor, turning them around to look for hidden shelves. He doesn't care about the noise. It doesn't matter anymore. Gillian is standing next to him. She has stopped moving, thrown off balance by his obvious desperation. For once, he doesn't need to say anything so that she can read it in his voice. His behavior is all it takes for her to know the truth. The ugly truth. Without a gun, he won't be able to protect her.
From his perspective, rummaging around on the floor, Cal sees Gillian's legs. High heels, pantyhose, skirt. Cal wishes she'd wear pants. The gun has to be there, somewhere. Please. But his hands keep grasping at nothing. It happens. Sometimes a cleaner or one of the employees looks for stuff to steal, finds and takes the gun. He should have asked Gillian during one of their prior meetings to check if it still was there, probably should consider himself lucky that the keys were.
Cal straightens himself and looks Gillian in the eye. "There is no gun."
At this very moment, two things happen at once. The door eventually gives in and the alarm stops, giving way to an eerie silence that is broken by Gillian's quiet whimper at the sight of the inmate, ready to use violence.
The time for words is over. The man heads straight for his target – Gillian – only slightly irritated by the mess in the room. Automatically, Cal steps in front of her. He clenches his fists, aware that he can never win this fight. Perhaps he can stall for time, though, and a miracle will take place. But then the inmate seems to notice something and stops. Cal looks at Gillian who is standing behind him. Only now, he perceives that her appearance is a bit rumpled because of the frantic search she did. Her hair is tousled and the hem of her blouse hangs out partly. Cal looks at the inmate again who still doesn't move and then back at her. I am supposed to act like one of them, his earlier thought crosses his mind. Of course. The man doesn't realize that Cal wants to protect her. He thinks Cal got to her first. The mess in the office and Gillian's somewhat ruffled appearance suggest that. His next words confirm Cal's assumption.
"Did I interrupt something?"
The inmate is an intelligent man. Cal remembers now that he talked to him once, remembers his despicable attitude toward women. He sees and treats them as property. Yet, he respects the property of another man. A heinous but simple logic that plays into his hands. The miracle he was hoping for.
Cal feels Gillian's body warmth, realizes only now that he stretched out his right arm in front of her, like a barrier, his hand loosely touching her hip. Another fact that is meant as a protective gesture but can be interpreted as possessive behavior. A man defending what is his. The irony is not lost on Cal. He knows now how he can protect Gillian. Save that it requires to do something he despises.
He turns around to face Gillian, turning his back on the other inmate in the process. Cal sees the worry and surprise in her face when he does so. Gillian doesn't know as yet that there is only one threat to her right now and that it is not the other inmate anymore. It's him. Even if he just has to pretend. There is fear in her face when she looks over his shoulder at the other man. It hurts Cal to know that this fear could be directed at him in a moment.
Cal grabs her shoulders as gently as possible. Given that he is going for tough and reckless, she flinches, anyway. You can only fake as much. The look of worry and surprise on her face becomes more intense, no longer merely a micro expression.
"You betcha!" Even if Cal is looking at Gillian, his words are meant as an answer for the prisoner behind him. "This one's mine. I was just getting started." Those words are also meant for him but even more for Gillian.
She caught every lie he told so far and Cal hopes that she caught this one, too, gets that he acts like he does because he wants to save her and not because he has suddenly gone rogue. He observes her micro expressions. Still surprise. Still worry. But then her facial expression changes and makes room for something else. Understanding. Bloody hell, she is good. Even under the present circumstances, she read him right.
"Then go ahead." Cal's plan is working. The reply of the inmate defuses the immediate threat, but he doesn't leave the room so that Cal has to keep his act up. As long as he is in here with them, his mood can change any moment.
Cal is still having a firm grip on Gillian's shoulders. He leans forward, pretending to kiss her neck, one of his hands in her hair now, holding her head in place so that he can whisper into her ear without raising suspicion, "Not going to hurt you. Just play along."
To complete his act, he needs Gillian to fight him off. Cal wants her to do it fully aware of his act, though, and not because she actually is afraid of him and feels as if she has to defend herself. When he leans back to look at her face, Gillian nods to him imperceptibly, her eyes jumping back and forth between the prisoner watching them and him. The man seems to enjoy the show, clicking his tongue.
"She has it coming. Come on, give her what she needs. Or do you want me to lend you a hand?"
Gillian's eyes are fixated on the inmates' face now, her gaze suddenly overshadowed by fear. Judging from the rustle behind him, Cal assumes that the man made a step into their direction. He needs to act fast and convincing, hoping that this is what it will take so that the prisoner accepts that Gillian is his territory and leaves for good.
Even if there is no way he can prepare her for what is about to happen next, Cal has to reassure himself that she agrees with his plan. Not that there is another option. Yet, it stings when he searches and finds something in her face he hasn't seen before. At least not to this extent. Trust.
Gillian's eyes snap back to his face when Cal's hands grab the collar of her blouse. Sorry, luv, he mouths before he rips it apart, shoving her toward the couch.
- To be continued -
Let me get this straight: I do not tolerate (sexual) violence of any kind. This story is labeled angst, though, and angst is what you get (at least for the most part).
Next chapter: More Cal and Gillian in peril and perhaps some more about the mysterious "Loker" Hines called. ;)