Chapter 20: Names in the Dark
When did Tommy finally realize this world mirrored the TV series Prison Break?
The answer came slowly, in pieces, not all at once.
Before he was imprisoned, Ken had briefed him on where he would serve his sentence — Redhaven Prison. In Ken's words a few familiar names had floated by, but Tommy had been cautious. Names repeat in every world; coincidence was common. Besides, Redhaven's location and details didn't match the show exactly. The prison in Prison Break had been called Fox River and placed in America; Redhaven lay in Palermo. Small differences, he told himself — hardly proof.
It wasn't until he actually arrived, until he met men who introduced themselves as Sucre, Abruzzi and others, that the pattern clicked. Faces, nicknames, alliances — the resemblance could no longer be written off as coincidence. This was the same story, distorted at the edges by the world's deviations, but the heart of it was unmistakable.
And understanding the script came with advantages. Names mattered here. A single casual mention could unnerve people, set instincts to edge. Tommy had only thrown out a few names — Veronica, Nika, Little John — and Abruzzi's reaction had been immediate and raw. The boss treated those names like sacred talismans; mention his family and the man's whole world trembled.
Despite the man he had become, Tommy still had limits. He would not harm innocents — women and children were off-limits. But that line meant nothing to Abruzzi. Abruzzi's life sentence had stripped him of many comforts; his family was the last sanctuary. The thought of losing them had driven him to cling to hope harder than most.
Now, standing very close, Abruzzi's hand drifted toward the serrated knife at his waist. He had been scared into action the moment he heard those names. To Tommy it looked almost comical — furtive movement, a darting wrist — but Tommy's eye caught it all.
"If I were you, I wouldn't try that. It'll only make things worse for you," Tommy said, his voice casual but unyielding.
Abruzzi took the warning as an insult. "You son of a—!"
He lunged, the short blade stabbing toward Tommy's abdomen.
"Too slow," Tommy said softly.
He didn't dance or dodge. He reached out in a clean, economical motion, caught Abruzzi's wrist, and with a practiced twist plucked the knife free. The movement was fluid, no wasted energy: the serrated edge ended up in Tommy's other hand before Abruzzi realized what had happened. In the same blink, the blade rested against Abruzzi's throat.
Abruzzi froze. The knife sat above his carotid, a thin line of red already staining his skin from Tommy's pressure.
"Boss, are you okay? Do you need help?" the two men posted outside his cell called, having heard the sudden noise. They started to lift the sheet blocking the view.
"Keep guard!" Abruzzi barked, his voice hoarse. "Don't let anyone near!"
The two men obeyed, hands steady on their posts, and the sheet stayed closed. Inside, Abruzzi trembled, sweat cooling on his forehead. He saw, with the clarity of a drowning man, that he had been outmaneuvered.
"Why does everyone think they can kill me?" he rasped. "First Tea Bag, then you. Does a little knife give you such confidence?"
Tommy pressed the blade an inch closer, and Abruzzi felt the sting of the point as a thin line of blood welled. The threat was precise and final.
"Answer some questions, Abruzzi," Tommy said. "I didn't mean for it to come to this, but it's effective. First: were you behind encouraging Tea Bag to attack me?"
Abruzzi had nowhere to hide; the truth rolled out of him like water. He admitted it — everything had been arranged from above, dictated by the family outside. He had pushed Tea Bag, arranged provocations. There was no pretense left.
"Good. Then Belick's repeated harassment — that was your doing as well?" Tommy asked next.
"Of course," Abruzzi spat. "It was ordered. If I'd been harsher, if I'd brought twenty men in at once, you'd already be dead. I regret not finishing it when I had the chance."
Regret was useless now. Abruzzi's face hardened into a stubborn acceptance. He had one last bargaining chip and he used it.
"I can die," he said. "But my family — they're innocent. I have money outside. Two hundred thousand euros. If you spare them, I'll tell you where it's hidden."
Two hundred thousand euros. For a man who'd once dreamed in cash and influence, that sum was both a lifeline and an insult. It was the nest egg he had set aside for escape, squandered now by events beyond his control. Still, the offer was real — and tempting.
Tommy considered it. He had no intention of needlessly killing Abruzzi. Two hundred thousand euros could change his plans after release: a nest, a new start, leverage he didn't yet possess. Relying solely on Gianna's money felt... undignified. He wanted options.
"All right," Tommy said at last. "I'll take it."
Abruzzi squeezed the small cross at his throat and bowed his head. "In the name of God, as long as the money reaches them, I swear I'll keep my mouth shut. I'll make sure they get out of the country."
Tommy watched the man cradle the cross, and for a moment he saw more than a boss — he saw a human being, broken and bargaining for a scrap of hope. That was enough.
"Talk," Tommy ordered. "Where is it?"
Abruzzi closed his eyes and began to speak, the names and places spilling into the dim cell as the bargain shifted into motion.
END of the chapter
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