Authors: Declan Conner
Deadly Journey (32 page)
Losing a Friend
My hands shook as
I walked along the gantry, down the stairs and headed for the breakfast line. A
cool breeze swirled in the yard. Waiting for breakfast, I thought back to a
night locked in the cell and the relief I had felt when the key turned in the
lock. My paranoia had subsided, helped by sharing and re-living childhood
memories with my cell buddies. It came as a big relief to discover that Skunk
was locked up for auto theft and not as a crazed serial killer. At least it
made sleeping with both eyes closed a lot easier.
But this was breakfast time and with the
daybreak, the fear had returned. I wasn’t the only one from our American
contingent that MS-13 had tried to shake down, but at least Surfer had managed
to avoid them. The tension in our group was evident, with all eyes alert, and
darting glances in every direction. Outnumbered ten-to-one in the yard, we all
stood together in line. Big Guy stood with his cronies to one side, watching,
as if hoping for some of our new guys to break ranks so they could cut them
loose and hog-tie them.
‘Today’s the day,’ Surfer said.
‘What day?’
‘I should get word if I’m going to be
released.’
‘Hope you’re not going to be disappointed.’
‘Don’t go jinxing it, I want positive vibes
only.’
‘I thought the court case was yesterday
afternoon? Wouldn’t they have known yesterday?’
‘Probably, but that’s how things work down
here, like I said. The paperwork takes time.’
Surfer wasn’t the only one hoping for good
news. If Angelina’s negotiations had taken place yesterday, I hoped to learn
from Leandra at least how the authorities viewed our offer. The anxiety of
waiting was like a noose tightening around my throat. Peeling out of the line,
with our stale bread and water, it was like circling-the-wagons time.
Ten o’clock arrived. I waited at the yard
entrance. A guard acknowledged me with a nod and opened the gate. The
clunk-click of the gate behind me was a welcome relief, the tension draining
from my body. When I approached the interview room, Leandra was waiting
outside, drumming the fingers of both hands on her knees. She turned her head
to greet my smile, but all she returned was a slight curl of her lips.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’ll tell you inside.’
She stood and smoothed down her skirt as I
shuffled past her and into the room. I guessed the negotiations hadn’t gone
according to plan and sat on my chair, nursing a heavy heart. The door closed.
‘Angelica was shot last night.’
My chair scraped on the concrete as I
pushed back and gripped the edge of the table. ‘What! Is she dead?’
‘No, she’s in the hospital. They’ve removed
the bullet and she’ll live.’
‘How did it happen? Did they catch anyone?’
‘No, they don’t have a suspect, but it
happened when she arrived home late last night and caught someone robbing her
house. I think they were after Perez’s computer.’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘Because earlier, her office was broken
into and ransacked, but nothing was taken except pen drives, her hard drive,
and computer disks.’
‘It could be just a coincidence. No one
knows we have the computer.’
‘The Mexican and American authorities know,
or at least they thought she would have the computer. Thank goodness I didn’t
give Angelica a direct copy. It would save either of them cutting a deal.
Incidentally, neither wanted an arrangement that didn’t involve you pleading
guilty and accepting a lengthy prison term.’
Rattled, I attempted to wrap my thoughts
around the implications. ‘I don’t know about the Mexicans, but we wouldn’t
shoot some innocent.’
Leandra raised an eyebrow. ‘Really, are you
sure about that? Are you saying your government doesn’t have a dirty tricks
department and never uses criminals to do their dirty work for them? I can think
of a few names on the list of government-elected officials who would like to
get their hands on the computer, both sides of the border.’
‘I’m saying
–
never
mind. All this means you could be in danger. Maybe it would be better if you
cut me loose.’
‘Now you’re being stupid. Besides, we’ve
moved out of the apartment and into a motel. Angelica says the authorities were
just postulating and they’d need to discuss it higher up the chain.’
‘That may be, but I don’t think I’m going
to make it past public visiting day in here. MS-13 know all about the
allegations against me, they just can’t put a face to the deeds. Visiting day
will change all that and then I’m a dead man. That’s especially true when word
finds its way to the Perez crew that I killed their leader, thanks to Pedro.’
‘When is visiting day?’
‘Tomorrow afternoon.’
Leandra bowed her head and stroked her
chin. She raised her head and looked me in the eyes. ‘I could try the warden
again, even though Angelica says he’s the type to drag his heels. What about
your consul?’
‘She’s already tried and so have the FBI.
If nothing else, I’ll just have to attack a guard tomorrow when you visit and
hope they put me in solitary. I can’t see any other way out.’
‘Oh, Kurt. I really don’t know what to
suggest.’ Leandra picked up a paper bag she’d brought with her and placed it on
the table. ‘Fruit, treats, and shaving stuff.’
Peering into the bag I imagined was akin to
looking at a last feast on death row. I couldn’t help but smile despite the
sense of hopelessness. ‘Thanks.’
‘It’s the least I could do.’ Leandra bit
her bottom lip, deep in thought. ‘Listen, do me a favour, will you? When you
shave, leave a goatee beard and moustache.’
‘Why?’
‘I think it’ll look good.’ She cocked her
head to one side and pouted her bottom lip. ‘Please, just for me.’
I wasn’t about to argue. At least it would
create a different appearance from my mug shot. Leandra fussed with her
briefcase. Staring at her, I wished for different circumstances. She glanced my
way and raised an eyebrow.
‘What?’
My eyes must have been speaking to her and
she blushed.
‘I—’
There was a tap on the door and it opened.
Surfer shuffled past the door and glanced toward me. There was no smile aimed
my way. Leandra took my hand and gave it a squeeze.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow at ten. Don’t
forget, I expect you to have a tidy beard.’
‘Will do.’
Surfer waited, held up at the first gate
and I joined him. ‘Good news and bad news,’ he said.
‘Go on, enlighten me.’
‘The good news is I’m out of here tomorrow
morning at ten.’
‘So what’s the bad news?’
Confrontation
Surfer didn’t
seem too excited about getting out of prison. I would have been beside myself
with joy.
‘Go on, what was the bad news?’ I asked.
‘Oh
–
nothing
really.’
His demeanour told a different story.
The gate opened and we stepped into the
yard. Surfer gripped my shoulder. ‘Hang back,’ he said.
‘Why what’s wrong?’
‘Listen, I know we all stick together as a
group, but you have to remember these are all hardened criminals. Now that all
our crew knows one of us is DEA, even a bent one, self-preservation comes into
the equation. So don’t expect any protection when you’re outed. For now all the
new intakes, including me, are in the picture.’
‘So is that the bad news?’ I asked.
The look in his eyes told me he wanted to
tell me more, but his brain didn’t connect with his vocal cords and he
stuttered. ‘Ang
–
Angelina was shot last night. They
told me at reception.’
I guessed his answer was a copout. However,
one thing I’d learned was to respect people when they had a mind to hold back. ‘Yeah,
her assistant told me. She survived, though.’
We headed for the stairway and toward our
cell. Walking along the gantry, Big Guy and his crew ambled in our direction.
Surfer whispered, covering his mouth and feigned a cough. ‘Keep it a secret
about me getting out tomorrow.’
Big Guy blocked our way. With his huge
frame there wasn’t room for two abreast, so sidestepping him wasn’t an option. ‘What’s
in the bag, American?’
‘Fruit.’
‘You gonna share it, or do I have to take
it from you?’
I sensed Surfer step back and I glanced
over the railing at the fifteen-foot drop. ‘No I’m not sharing and no
–
you’re not taking any.’
As soon as the words escaped my lips, I
knew I was in trouble and I handed the bag to Surfer. ‘Passing the parcel.
That’s brave, American. Sorry
–
Razor.’
‘No, brave is wondering if the guy in front
of you is going to toss you over the railing, but going for it anyway. You know
what they say. The bigger they are the harder they fall.’
Big Guy glanced over the railing and
laughed. ‘You got balls, I’ll give you that.’
Every sinew in my body trembled as
adrenalin began to flood my system. There was only one target on my mind and
that was his good eye. ‘Oh, make no mistake, I have plenty of balls.’
Big Guy roared with laughter and stood to
one side against the railing, signalling his crew to do the same. ‘Good, I’m
pleased you have balls, because we have plenty of time in here. It’ll give me
pleasure to cut them off and stuff them down your throat when the time comes
–
Razor.’
He waved his hand for us to pass. I grabbed
the bag from Surfer and we sidled past them.
‘Man, that was cool, you learn fast,’
Surfer said as we entered our cell.
My legs weakened and I dropped my backside
onto Surfer’s mattress. ‘I can’t take much more of this. I’d be better off
getting banged up in solitary.’
‘Forget it. They can get to you anywhere,
unless you take out a guard, and then they have a special solitary for those
idiots. Trust me, you don’t want to end up in there. Better to go down like a
man. Look, take my advice and stay in the cell all day. By tomorrow, they’ll
have another mark. Tell me, what would you have done if he’d made a move?’
‘I’d have taken his eye out and tossed him
over the railing.’
‘Just like that?’
‘Yeah, just like that.’
It was clear it wouldn’t be “just like
that” but my way of thinking, from restraint to survival mode, transformed the
way my brain was wired into a strike first and ask questions later criminal
type of thinking. The humanity was being sucked out of me.
‘Nah, there were too many of them,’ Surfer
said.
‘What, like when you took on those three
guys when we first arrived?’
‘He has a point,’ Skunk said. ‘They could
only attack him one at a time. Take the head of the lead snake out of the
conflict every time. The rest would slither away, licking their wounds. Good
strategy. On the gantry, it would’ve been like those Spartan 500 holding back
thousands of Arabs.’
Rummaging around in the paper bag, I handed
Skunk a peach. ‘Here, this should be good for your throat.’
‘Thanks.’
The strength returned to my legs and I
climbed onto my bunk. I called out to Surfer. ‘Do you want an apple?’
‘Sure.’
I tossed an apple to him. He caught it and
walked outside the cell door, signalling for Skunk to join him. They huddled
over the railing, keeping their conversation low. Skunk turned his head and
glanced at me, giving the impression I was the subject of their conversation.
He turned back, slapped Surfer on the shoulder, and nodded.
‘What are you two scheming?’ I asked.
‘Just saying you’re not a bad guy for an
ugly son-of-a-bitch,’ replied Skunk.
Lying back on the mattress, I focused on my
divorce. Thinking about losing my humanity, I was finding it hard to understand
why I had accepted the situation of divorce so quickly. But then I had thought
about it long and hard. Maybe I had already known deep down there was nothing
to fight for and Mary had done both of our children and us a favour. I pulled
down my family paper chain and tucked it under the mattress. It felt as if my
brain had adapted to my new circumstances so that I could compartmentalize my
feelings as to “what was” for distant memory and “what is” for the here and
now, as a way of personal survival. It was either that, or for me to take my
own life.
The day passed painfully slowly. There was
no back-up plan that made sense. Yes, I could insist on a meeting with my
consul and hope she would be able to intervene. In addition, yes, I could
strike a guard after Leandra’s visit and take my chances on survival in
solitary. However, none of what I could conjure up could be considered a
long-term solution. The day spent in the cell left me with an aching back. I
eased my legs over the side of the bunk, my feet touching the floor. The light
was already failing and it would soon be time for lock down.
‘Where are you going?’ Surfer asked.
‘I need to stretch my legs.’
‘I’ll come with you, but stay on the
gantry.’
Wandering outside the cell, I leaned on the
fence and looked across the yard. The entrance gate opened and in walked two
new prisoners. The activity and conversations in the yard ceased. A group of
the Perez crew walked over to them. They exchanged gang shakes and hugs. Wall
lights flickered on along the gantry and in the yard. One of the new intakes
leaned against the wall under a light that accentuated his features. His face
looked almost skull-like with high, gaunt cheekbones, a pencil-thin nose, and
ears that stuck out at right angles.
I drew back from the fence.
‘What’s wrong? You look as though you’ve
seen a ghost.’
‘I have. I’ve just seen my Grim Reaper.’
‘Talk sense.’
‘That new prisoner under the light, he’s
one of Perez’s elite guards. If he sees me I won’t make it to my attorney’s
assistant’s visit.’
