The Warden's office smelled of old paper and stale coffee, a sharp contrast to the antiseptic sting of the cell blocks. Officer Sarah Miller stood at attention, her spine a straight line, her gaze fixed on the wall behind the Warden's head. She was the model of a "job-oriented" guard—stern, efficient, and impossible to read.
Across from her, Marcus Holden sat in a leather chair that looked more expensive than Sarah's car. He was the Legal Shield for Valenti's crew, and he played the "concerned citizen" role with terrifying precision.
"It's about the South Block, Warden," Holden said, his voice smooth as silk. "My client, Mr. Valenti, has expressed concerns regarding security lapses. Specifically during the yard rotations. He feels certain... elements are being allowed too much leeway."
The Warden, a man who viewed the prison as a clock that needed to be kept wound, looked at Sarah. "Officer Miller, you've been on tower duty and tier sweeps. Any truth to the idea that Castello's people are breaking protocol?"
Sarah didn't blink. "Negative, sir. Inmate Castello and his associates are compliant. They follow the bell. If anything, the tension is being generated by the North Block attempting to encroach on South Block territory."
Holden smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Compliance is one thing, Officer. But favoritism is another. I have reports that certain 'messages' are moving through the South Block. We wouldn't want the integrity of Blackwood to be compromised by... sentimentalities."
Sarah felt a cold chill. He was fishing. He didn't have proof, but he was using the Warden's obsession with order to put her under the microscope.
The Library Detail
Later that afternoon, the air in the prison library was thick with dust. Donny was moved there for work detail—a "reward" for good behavior that was really just a way for the administration to keep the high-profile inmates separated.
Donny moved with a quiet, natural grace. At thirty-five, he still had the sharp jawline and the intense, dark eyes that had made him a legend on the streets. He didn't look like a broken convict; he looked like a King in exile.
Artie Sterling was already there, "assisting" with the cataloging. He watched Donny with the clinical detachment of a scientist.
"You look tired, Donny," Artie said, not looking up from his ledger. "Maybe it's the weight of all that 'honor' you're carrying. It's a heavy thing to hold when the world is moving on."
"I'm doing fine, Artie," Donny replied, shelving a book with deliberate care. "I've got a lot to live for."
"Do you?" Artie stepped closer, his voice dropping. "The Radar tells me Sarah Miller was in the Warden's office today. Marcus Holden was there too. He's looking for a crack in her armor, Donny. And we both know what that crack is."
Donny froze. He didn't look at Artie, but his knuckles went white against the spine of the book.
"She's a professional," Donny said through gritted teeth.
"She is," Artie agreed. "But professionals get fired. And in a place like this, a guard without a badge is just another body in the yard. If she falls, she falls because of you."
Donny finally turned, his eyes burning with a controlled fury. "If you touch her, Artie—if you even mention her name to Valenti again—there won't be enough of you left for Marcus Holden to file a report on."
Artie didn't flinch. He just noted the reaction in his mind, filing it away for Valenti. "Just business, Donny. We're just cleaning up the trash."
At the doorway, Sarah appeared for the afternoon headcount. She saw them standing close. She saw the tension in Donny's shoulders. Her face remained a mask of stone, but as she called out the numbers, her eyes met Donny's for a fraction of a second.
Danger.
She didn't stay. She couldn't. But as she left, she dropped a heavy ring of keys against her thigh—a loud, clanking sound.
Johnny, watching from the hallway, translated the sound instantly. It was the signal for a "Blackout." Valenti was planning something for the night shift, and Sarah was powerless to stop the legal machinery Holden had set in motion.