Rated: A slash
Warning: Violence
Pairing: Mac/Vic Once A Thief
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Victor, Li Ann and Mac sat in their usual order at the long table in the Director's office; Li Ann in the middle with the two male agents flanking her.
Stuck in the middle, as usual, thought Li Ann, as she looked toward Mac who was on her left and then to Victor at her right. She hated meetings, and after a while, her mind started to tune out the droning voice of the Director, who was busy reprimanding Victor and Mac about their last mission and all the mistakes they had made.
The lyrics "Clowns to the right of me, Jokers to the left." began to run through her head.
She couldn't help but smile at that. The young woman laughed softly to herself in response to the song, and how appropriate that little tune seemed for this situation.
Unfortunately, the laugh and smile that was meant only for herself, did not go unnoticed by her ever- aware boss.
"Something funny, Li Ann?" asked the Director seriously. "I don't see what it could be, since I sure as hell don't think the way the three of you behaved on the last mission is anything to laugh about." The Director was not only frustrated by the two agents failure to get along but also by Li Ann's apparent apathy regarding their rivalry.
The Director knew that her instincts were right in putting this team together. All the components for a successful working partnership were there. She believed that once the men got over the fact that they were both in love with the same woman - even though Li Ann was in love with neither of them - their sense of solidarity would click into place. It was really only a matter of time before it did, Victor and Mac were a lot alike in many ways. Once the men formed that united front and settled in to a working relationship, she believed the chemistry between all three would be explosive.
The only problem was that, as yet her two most pig-headed male agents still had not got over their juvenile contest to top each other.
The Director sighed and leaned back in her chair. She opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out a black folder. Flipping the folder open she pulled out a photo of a young man who had been found dead, deep in the woods to the north.
"Well, gentlemen, you may not have managed to get along very well on the last assignment but I guarantee you that you will on this one. In fact, it's crucial that you do." The petite red-head stood up and spread several crime scene photos of the dead man on the table in front of the agents.
Each of them grabbed a photo and looked to her for the rest of the information on the deceased man.
"Meet Joseph James Carter, 27, blond hair, brown eyes, 5' 11", 190. lbs., and deader than the proverbial doornail," stated the Director dryly. She levelled her brown-eyed glare at Mac and Victor, making sure the two of them understood the seriousness of what she was about to say. "At the time of his death, Joseph Carter was supposed to be incarcerated at Kensington Federal Penitentiary. He was convicted on May 12, 1996 for armed robbery and had been serving a stretch of 4-10. In fact, Carter was supposed to serve a minimum of four years before he could even go before the parole board."
The Director paused to let those facts sink in before moving on.
"So now you should be asking yourselves, what's a guy whose supposed to be in prison for at least another year and a half doing in the woods to the north? That I will leave up to you two to find out."
She placed more photos containing the rest of the crime scene, pictures of the prison from the outside and other related data in front of all three agents. They examined the material in silence, all of them knowing better than to ask questions before their boss was done talking.
The Director paced around the large table like a tiger circling around and around in a too-small cage. She spoke in a casual tone. "There's no record of Carter even escaping from prison. Not only that, in addition to him, three other men have gone missing from the same prison, with no explanation of what happened to them."
Once back in front of the table, she spun around on her heels to face the male agents. "Victor, Mac, the two of you will go inside the prison as inmates. Li Ann will work the other side of the bars and set up shop as the new social councillor. I'll also keep contact with you two under the guise of being your lawyer." The Director paused at that point, unconsciously gave a small smile as she imagined herself, dressed in one of her shortest skirts and a tight almost see-through blouse, walking down a long dim hallway passing cell after cell with muscle-bound convicts, all of whom were salivating over her, wanting her and her alone...
"Um, hey," Mac spoke up, interrupting the Director's steamy thoughts of prison. "Don't you think that sending Victor to prison might be a little dangerous?"
Victor raised his eyebrows in surprise, he had been thinking the exact same thing, only Mac beat him to voicing the concern.
The Director gave Mac a mock look of surprise. "Why, Maaaac," she cooed. "Just look at you. Is it my imagination or are you actually concerned for Victor's safety? And here I thought you didn't care about him!"
Mac shrugged his shoulders in nonchalance and replied in a neutral voice, "Listen, I could care less about *Starsky* here, him getting hurt is no skin off my back. But on a job like this, it's different. Something like this could lead to a life or death situation, and considering it's only going to be him and me in there, I'd rather not have my partner shanked the first time he showers. Not that Vic here was some sort of supercop...."
Victor levelled a glare at Mac and interrupted with a snort. "Gee thanks for the vote of confidence, man," he said.
Ignoring his partner's comment, Mac went on, "Like I said, even though Vic wasn't a supercop with an astounding number of arrests, there's still gotta be at least ten felons in that joint who would recognise Victor for being one of the boys in blue."
"I think I can speak for myself , Mac." Victor shot Mac a dour glare. "I hate to say it...but he's right. I know I sent a few guys up there for stretches of twenty years or more. I don't think they'd make a very good welcoming committee."
"Now Victor, do you think I would put you in that kind of danger?" asked The Director, pretending to be shocked by such a suggestion.
"After the way Mac and I behaved on the last mission, I would say anything's possible."
"Well put such thoughts out of your head, Victor. It's been arranged so that all inmates you have ever crossed paths with were transferred out, so there should be no one left that will recognise you." She paused for a few beats then added as an afterthought, "But if I were you, I'd be on my guard at all times anyway. It is prison after all." It was a rather unnecessary reminder. The two agents already knew that they would have to be on guard 24/7.
"Who's gonna back up the guys when we're not around?" Asked Li Ann.
It was almost surprising that no one had thought to bring that question up yet. All kinds of violent images had gone through Li Ann's mind when she thought of all the possible scenarios that could happen to two good looking guys like Victor and Mac in a place like that.
The Director smiled at Li Ann before answering. She considered the young woman one of her sharpest and brightest agents. She was always level-headed and asked the right questions at the appropriate times.
"I would like to say that since I believe that Mac and Victor are capable of taking care of themselves, there will be no back-up." The Director paused just long enough to shoot the two male agents a mildly dirty look to emphasise her statement. "But the truth is, I couldn't risk sending in more than two new people at one time. We don't want to raise any suspicions. Everyone in the place is a suspect right now, from the infirmary doctor to the warden. Unfortunately the information we do have on the place is vague at best, however, there is one guard who will do his best to watch over you guys. He's not really one of our people, but it was his report that tipped us off to a potential problem in the first place. We did establish contact with him, so he will know you two, but we thought it best if you don't know who he is for now. We don't want to put him in a dangerous position." She picked up her coffee cup then and drank the cool water inside. Only after her thirst had been satisfied, did she continue. "Of course he isn't on duty for every shift, but since he's all we've got, he will have to do."
"Here are your cover stories and all the pertinent information on Kensington: the air ducts, sewer systems, possible ways in and out of the prison, yadda-yadda-yadda." She handed Mac and Victor each a thick file folder as she talked. "The shifts for the guards run every twelve hours, from 7 to 7. Make sure you memorise everything. I suggest you two go home now and get a good night's sleep. I think it will be the last one you'll get for a while."
"Umm,..." Mac started, "...how long will we be inside?"
The Director looked at Mac grimly. "As long as it takes for you two to find out why three healthy men who were supposed to be incarcerated are missing and presumed dead. Not to mention however long it'll take you two to find out why the fourth missing inmate was found dead in woods 100 kilometres away from where he was supposed to be."
"How will we get inside?" This came from Vic.
"You will entering the prison like every other convicted felon: in a law enforcement vehicle. In your case it will be in one of our lock-up vans. Dobrinsky will be driving." She turned away from Victor and Mac to speak to Li Ann. "And here's your cover..." The agent stood and took her file from the Director, browsing through it. The two women started walking away while in deep discussion, ignoring the men.
Mac looked at Vic and said casually in a high pitched voice and a bad English accent, "Looks like the queen has dismissed us. Shall we?" He swept his arm towards the glass doors.
Victor answered back with just a slightly better accented voice, "Lets. Lead on, MacDuff." Then in his normal voice, "Come on. We can go to my place and go over the material." Victor gave Mac a large grin and then fell into step behind him as he passed through the doors.
The Director would've been proud had she seen them now, getting along as well as they did. In fact, both men, when not in the presence of Li Ann, actually got on together much better than when she was around. They would talk and joke around as if they were at least acquaintances on good terms, if not friends. As the two of them headed out of the Agency and to their own cars, they continued their friendly back and forth banter and occasionally even laughed out loud.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Mac followed Victor to his apartment in his own car. As the late afternoon shadows passed into early evening darkness, the men sat across each other at Victor's small dining room table, sharing their cover names and stories with each other. They worked at committing the various maps of possible ways in and out of the prison to memory.
Each man had laughed at not only their own false names but each others: Victor Smith and Mac Jones. Both men wondered at the lack of imagination of somebody in the false ID department at the Agency.
At least, the agents agreed, they had decent rap sheets. Both were supposed to be armed robbers, specialising in jewellery stores and museums.
It was already pre-arranged that the two of them would be bunkmates in Kensington, even though they weren't supposed to be partners going in. They were both relieved at that arrangement, it would make things a whole lot easier on them.
Some time before midnight, Victor, with four beers under his belt, confided to Mac that he was more than a little nervous about being in Kensington.
"It's not the prison life I'm worried about, per se. I can do the cell time. That's no problem. But if even just one guy thinks he recognises me, then I'm toast. If I'm fingered as a cop, I don't think I'll live long enough to even call you for help." Victor chewed on his bottom lip nervously. Both of them knew that the risks of going in were far greater for Victor than for Mac.
"Don't worry, Vic. I promise I'll be there watching your back all the time. I swear." Mac smiled at his partner, trying to ease the other man's concerns.
The pair of agents clinked beer bottles and drank to Mac's declaration, which was an unspoken truce made to push aside the competitiveness between them for now.
After a beat, Mac looked at his watch and stood up, gesturing towards the paperwork laying all over the table top. "Well it's midnight already. If we don't know it by now, we never will. I better get going home. We have to be at the Agency at 9 am tomorrow. Try to get a good nights sleep."
Mac shrugged on his suit jacket and walked to the front door. He grasped the knob and pulled the door open, but before he could walk out, Victor grabbed his arm to hold him back.
Mac turned around with a questioning look. Victor searched his partner's eyes and then said seriously, "I got your back too, man."
Victor meant it too. He knew Mac would be getting the most amount of attention. The older man had to admit grudgingly that Mac was not a bad looking guy, in fact, on his good days, he could even be considered pretty. Victor had a clear picture of how his partner was going to look to the other horny inmates. Victor released Mac's arm and grabbed the side of the door, opening it up wider. M
ac smiled easily and answered, "I know you do, Vic." He saluted Victor briefly and passed through the door's threshold; casually walking down the hall, not looking at all like a man who was going to go to prison the very next morning.
Victor shut the door behind Mac and locked it. He leaned against it, suddenly feeling very, very tired. He hoped that The Director knew what she was doing by sending an ex-cop and a pretty boy into the largest and most dangerous prison in the country.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
All night long Victor tossed and turned in his bed, and when the high pitched ring of his phone cut through the quiet of his bedroom, interrupting his restlessness, he was grateful for it. He sat up immediately at the noise, and in the pre-dawn, autumn darkness made a perfect, blind grab for the receiver.
"Hello?" he asked in a deceptively sleepy voice. He swiped his hand across his forehead, and it came away moist. He grimaced slightly as he rubbed the sweat between his fingertips.
"It's me." Came Mac's cheerful reply. "Do you want to go to the agency together or in separate cars?"
Mac. Figures. He's always up earlier than me. Probably already had his work-out and breakfast. like this was just any other morning.
Victor grunted softly into the phone as he flicked his eyes sideways to look at the red digits on his bedside clock. "Do you know what time it is?" He complained, no real anger in his voice.
"Of course I know what time it is; it's 5:45 am. I just finished my work-out and I was thinking, if you didn't mind, maybe we could take your truck to work so I can leave my 'beamer here in the security garage."
"I should have known you wouldn't want to drive. Let me guess, you don't want to leave your wheels at the Agency in case someone starts getting nasty ideas about they could do to it."
"Hey, Dobrinski hates me; you know that. Who knows what he would do to my car if I left it unattended in lot for too long..."
" Sugar the gas tank? Or maybe spray-paint graffiti on it?" Victor cut in.
"You bet he'd do something like that. So how about it? Do you mind driving?"
"No, I don't mind." Victor preferred his driving to Mac's anyway. "I'll pick you up at eight."
"Come over earlier and I'll take you out for our last good breakfast before we start prison rations." Offered Mac. He was quite serious about it too. Like his partner, he had been in prison for a short while as well, and though he believed Canadian prison fare must be better than the food in a Hong Kong jail, he knew it still couldn't compare to food eaten in freedom. "See ya in a bit." He added and then hung up.
Victor sat for a minute after he had said goodbye to Mac, with the phone still in his hand. A chill ran down his still sweat-slicked spine. His thoughts had been temporarily side-tracked while talking to Mac on the phone, but here now in the early morning stillness, his memory of the nightmares that had caused his restlessness came back to him in small bits and pieces. Though he couldn't remember exactly everything of what he had dreamt, he knew that his dreams had mostly involved the time that he had been incarcerated. They had been of being segregated from the rest of prison population. Images of solitude, isolation and the burdening sense of loneliness and despair that he had felt on the first day serving his unjust jail sentence had come back to haunt him.
Another chill ran through him. He shook off the morose thoughts and slowly became aware of the monotonous dial tone coming from the phone. Victor hung up the phone, threw back his blankets and stood up. He padded softly over thick carpet to the open bedroom window and shut it, hoping that that was the source of his chills. Unfortunately, it wasn't.
He walked over to the large lazy-boy chair that was nestled against the wall in his room and picked up his robe, which was lying across it. He slipped it on and tied the belt haphazardly as he went down the dark hallway to the kitchen.
Once there he made a bee-line for the fridge to get his favourite brand of coffee beans. He sniffed in the rich scent and then scooped them into the basket. He continued to make his morning coffee using only the light of the fridge; his gloomy thoughts weren't quite ready for the lights yet.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Mac exited the security mini-bus first, followed closely by Victor. Stepping down and out the vehicle the Agency had provided was no easy feat since both men were shackled. They had heavy chains around their waists so that their wrists were held down against their sides, making it impossible for them to move their hands more than two inches in any direction. Also they were wearing ankle chains so they could not even separate their feet for more than eight inches apart.
It was a definite interference with maintaining balance.
Dobrinski had dressed for the part of a law enforcement officer and even acted like one too. He opened the bus door but did not assist the 'felons' out even though it was obvious they needed help. Mac stumbled but did not fall, much to Dobrinski's disappointment.
As soon as the two were out of the bus, the pair of under cover agents were led by a Kensington guard and flanked by two more, with Dobrinski bringing up the rear of the group. They were taken inside a small red brick building named by a sign overhead of the double steel doors as 'Reception: No Unauthorised Personal Allowed'.
Dobrinski signed the appropriate papers and forms but instead of staying to share a coffee and some banter with the other guards, he chose to be on his way. He smiled at the guards before turning sharply on his heel so that his back was to the other men and said gruffly to the two agents, "You two turds better behave yourselves." And then with a small smile playing about his mouth, he pointed at Mac and said to Victor, "Don't let this shit-head get you into more trouble than he already has."
Mac scowled at Dobrinski and Victor coughed lightly to cover up his grin but said nothing.
Dobrinski walked out of the door without so much as a backward glance to the agents.
The steel doors banged shut and both men knew that their last link to the outside world for the next few days, was gone. Neither one of them would be able to see the Director, or Li Ann until Monday morning, and since today was only Friday, who knew what would happen to them in the meantime.
They were completely on their own now.
"Okay, guys." A guard named 'Wang' said to the two men, "Follow me."
Wang turned on his heel and walked towards another set of steel doors, with the two agents following behind. He led them through a further set of double steel doors framed by a large metal detector. In front of another door, this one a single steel door with a window with bars in the middle, he paused to pull out his keys and unlock it.
Mac and Victor passed through and found themselves in a room that had two long benches against a wall on which sat four other men who were chained in the same manner as they were.
One man was Asian, another was Indo-Canadian while the other two were white. The Asian man looked as though he was probably only in his early twenties. He was relatively small in stature and very slender. Though he may have looked young, he was still able to relay a "don't fuck with me" message that came through loud and clear in his posture. The Indo-Canadian, on the other hand, was a much larger man. Even though he was sitting down, it was still obvious that he would be a very intimidating presence when he stood up. He was heavy-set with a very large beer belly, and both of his arms were covered with way too many bad tattoos.
The two men left were ordinary looking Caucasians; the only "unique" characteristic they had was that they were both scruffy and in need of a shower. Each had several days' growth of beard on their faces and identical looks of boredom in their expressions.
"Get up." Intoned a bored and overweight hack, who wore a nametag that simply read 'Leary'. The men stood up obediently at his command. Leary stated to Mac and Victor, "To the line, gentlemen."
The agents joined the others; Victor stood at the very end of the line next to Mac, who was next to the Asian inmate. The men stood evenly spaced with the tips of their toes on a long yellow line. The convicts were on one side of the line while Leary and the other guard, Wang, stood on the other side of it, one at each end.
As the men lined up, another hack came through a further locked door, this one on the opposite side of the sterile white tiled room. All the men behind the line could tell that he was no ordinary guard. Other than the fact that he wore a different uniform from the two guards, it was his demeanour that made him stand out. He had a definite air of authority. The guard seemed to be in his middle forties, and he had dark brown hair, which was peppered with just the right amount of grey. The 'in charge' hack's hair was typically short, just like all the other guards in the place. He was six feet tall and large framed; sturdy, with no evidence of excess fat at all. His steel-toed shoes shone brilliantly and so did his nightstick. Both Mac and Victor guessed correctly that this was the commanding officer.
He walked slowly up and down the line of prisoners studying each man, a disdainful expression in his deep brown eyes for each of them.
Mac felt like he was a bug under a microscope, while Victor, on the other hand, was getting pissed off at the C.O.'s attitude. The guy didn't know a thing about any of the men standing in the line, but Victor could see by the way the guard was looking at them that he was already forming pre-conceived opinions of all of them.
If the other prisoners felt uncomfortable under the gaze none of them showed or spoke it.
Victor didn't appreciate the man's condescending attitude or the ugly sneer on his face. His eyes were uncomfortably cold and there was a hint of ruthlessness in them as well. Some of the guys on his force had been like that; they ruled with a red right hand, as if they were above the law just because they worked for it. Victor had never got along with them, even though they were his colleagues. He had a feeling this guy was the same; he reeked of trouble.
When the commanding officer finished scrutinising the men, he came to a stand at the opposite end of the line from Victor.
"My name is John Dean Gant." The man spoke with a deep, surly voice, which boomed through the room. There was definitely no mistaking who was in charge here. "And I am the commanding officer in charge of the guards...and everyone else." He moved on and stopped in front of another inmate. He smiled coldly at the prisoner, slightly intimidating the man.
"I run this shit-hole! Not Warden Greer, not Under Warden James. Me. I run it! Now the law says that you need to be put away so you can learn to change your ways, learn to be better human beings. Believe me you sorry lot of pricks, I intend to do just that!"
Gant gave the first convict in line an unmistakable look of disdain before moving away slowly, walking past each man in the row as he continued reciting his 'welcome' speech.
"You will sleep on schedule, eat on schedule, shit, piss and brush your teeth on schedule. MY schedule! You no longer have any say in what you think or do. From today on, my opinions are your opinions." As he walked by Mac he yelled, "We will tell you where to go, and when to go there."
Gant came to a stand still directly in front of Victor again. He looked the agent up and down once, then stepped so close that they were almost nose to nose and said harshly as if he was speaking to Victor and Victor alone, "From here on in, until the day of you're release, your ass is mine."
Gant was so close that Victor could clearly feel the warm moisture of the man's breath upon his face. His eyes shot up and he stared defiantly at the commander, whose own eyes were gleaming with determined malice. Victor reminded himself that this was not the right man to pull the rebellious prisoner act with, even though the guy's rather stereotypical speech had made him want to laugh. He quickly lowered his eyes and gave Mac a quick sideways glance.
Mac narrowed his eyes at Gant. He didn't like being yelled at or being told what to do. The fact that the man was trying to intimidate them into good behaviour was not lost on him, but he was not impressed. He looked back and forth between the other two guards and saw that Wang's face showed no emotion while Leary's face was as bland as his voice had been.
A key rattled in the lock of the door that Gant had come through, and in walked yet another guard holding a clipboard with some papers on it. The guy's nametag read 'Walker'. He was only about 5'10" but very stocky, his large body-builder muscles almost seemed out of place on his short frame. He had deep blue eyes and a very short, light blond buzz-cut that was square, not rounded.
Gant turned and looked at the man over his shoulder, then pulled his nightstick out before taking a backwards step away from Victor. He continued on with his speech, "There will be two men to a cell, which from now on will be referred to as a pod. Keep your pods clean, gentlemen. Respect what little you do have. This is your only chance to change, so don't blow it."
All the while Gant was talking he tapped the shiny black nightstick into the palm of his left hand and Mac thought that he was doing it unconsciously, the way a person would bite their nails or grind their teeth. The motion was irritating to the young agent, though he didn't know why. Mac bit his tongue and fumed silently.
Gant reached blindly out with one outstretched arm and the hack named Walker, on silent cue, deposited the clipboard in his hand then stood one step behind and beside his C.O.
"Ok, you'll all be in B block, Chang and Singh, Tomson and Gorman," he called out while glancing at the Asian, the Indo-Canadian, and then the two Caucasian convicts in that order, "You guys are pod- mates. Smith and Jones," Gant looked up from the clipboard and smirked at Victor and Mac, "Kinda has a nice ring to it, don't it? Okay you two are pod-mates as well so get used to looking at each other."
Gant walked back to Victor who happened to be staring at his feet, and said, "Leary, Wang, get started on the body search on these five."
He pointed his finger at Mac and then swept it down to Gorman on the other end. He jabbed Victor hard in the chest with his index finger. "I think Mr. Smith here is hiding contraband; he can't seem to look me in the eyes."
Victor snapped his eyes front and centre in surprise and looked at the C.O. directly. "What? No way! I'm not muling anything!" He blurted out defiantly.
Oh shit! Then thought a split second later Maybe I shouldn't have done that.
He glanced back down quickly, hoping the outburst would be over looked. He didn't dare look at Mac, but just kept his head down. He could feel his own cheeks warm under the Commander's steady gaze.
Without warning, Gant slammed the tip of his nightstick square into Victor's stomach, causing the agent to double over with pain, his breath pushed out of him. "Shut up! " Gant shouted. "I thought I told you that you have no say in here."
Mac made a motion towards Victor, intending on helping him, but Gant stuck out his stick and stopped Mac by poking him firmly in the stomach with it. "Back in line shit-head." He warned quietly.
Mac looked around him and saw that the guards were ready to pounce should he try anything stupid; he had no choice but to obey.
Gant stared down at Victor, then he looked over his shoulder to Walker and instructed, "Take this prisoner to exam room three." Walker went over to Victor and hauled the gasping agent up to his feet and without a word, dragged him through the door in which the guard had come through earlier.
Mac watched his partner go with a frown. He was very worried for Victor but confident that they wouldn't find anything on his partner. He hoped that Victor would go along with them so they wouldn't have an excuse to hurt him further.
Gant looked to Leary then Wang and nodded his head as he passed through the same door that Walker and Vic had gone through. As soon as the commander was gone, Leary barked out loudly, "All right you heard the man. Strip, you losers!"
As Mac began removing his clothing, he couldn't help but wonder what was happening to Victor.
Damn, only in the joint for less than an hour and already there's trouble. Wouldn't the leather freak be amazed that it's not me this time!
Mac sighed deeply and as he knelt and untied his shoelaces, his mind still with his partner.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Victor began to struggle as soon as the door clanged shut behind Walker and him. Not a man to put up with acts of defiance in any way, shape, or form, Gant grabbed Victor by the hair and pulled his head back harshly as far as he could.
"Listen, you prick. Fighting will only make it worse on you. I will NOT tolerate any kind of bullshit. Understand?"
When no reply was immediately forthcoming, Gant tightened his grip on Victor's hair and yelled, "I said, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"
The excruciatingly tight hold Gant had on Victor's hair made it virtually impossible for him to talk, all he could do was whisper a low and breathless "yes" in reply.
"Good." Gant told Victor in an almost sincere voice. Then he stood and nodded his head at Walker, who took the signal and released Victor's arm. The minute Walker let go, Gant swung his fist and it landed squarely on the side of Victor's face.
Victor, completely caught unaware by the attack, fell to his knees from the impact. Squatting down Gant grabbed Victor under the chin and forced him to meet his eyes as he said to the dazed man, "Don't faint yet, Smith. We're just getting started."
Just as he had said that, another guard came in and interrupted the scene by clearing his throat loudly to catch his commander's attention. Gant turned to him with a furious look, which made the younger man very nervous. "Ex-excuse me, sir. But I, um, I have a message for you. It's important," he stammered.
Gant looked back at Victor for another second before letting him go. He stood up and said to Walker, "I want you to take him to the examining room and make sure he knows who's in charge by the time I get there."
As Walker was dragging Victor away down the hall he clearly heard the younger guard say to Gant, "Warden Greer has been trying to reach you. He wants to talk to you immediately. There seems to be a situation and...."
Walker jammed his key forcefully into the lock and kicked the door open to exam room three with one booted foot. He hauled Victor through and then kicked the door close behind them. He pushed Victor to the floor and the agent hit the cold white tiles like a sack of potatoes. Walker pulled his baton out from his belt and began to hit Vic over the left side of his ribs repeatedly. The blows were hard enough to create deep red and purple bruises along the bony protrusions of Vic's ribs but not quite enough to fracture or break them.
From years of practice, Walker had learned exactly how much force was needed to bruise a man and how much was needed to break bones.
Victor made low guttural sounds through his beating but stubbornly refused to cry out. After a few more blows, the beating finally stopped. It took a while for Victor to catch his breath and when he was sure he wouldn't pass out from the pain, he rolled onto his hands and knees and looked up to meet the guard's eyes. "Look, man, I'm not hiding anything! I swear it."
When Walker reached for him, Victor couldn't help flinching slightly as he thought he was about to be hit again. But instead, Walker only wrapped his hand around Vic's left biceps. The guard dug his fingers into the man's muscle and used the grip to pull him up on his feet. "From now on, when Gant tells you to do something, you do it. No arguments. The same goes for me. When I tell you to 'jump', you ask me how high."
As if to emphasise his point, Walker pushed Victor against the wall and pinned him there, both with his own barrel of a chest and by holding the agent's face tightly by the chin with his large hand. He stared at Victor with an intense gaze for a minute before giving him a half smile and taking a step back while keeping his grip on Victor's face. He forced Victor to turn his head left, then right. Walker continued to scrutinise Victor for a few more seconds in silence. He then made a "hmmph" sound and finally released his hold on the agent's chin. Victor watched the man warily as he took a few steps back, wishing he could lift his own chained hands to rub some circulation back in to his cheeks.
While leering at Victor, Walker stated casually, "Now I can see why Gant would want to examine you himself."
Victor started in surprise. "What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded with uncertainly.
Walker gave a genuine bark of laughter at the agent's nave question, and the worried look on his face. "What? You can't guess?" Walker shook his head in disbelief when he saw the blank look on Victor's face. "Man, do I have to spell it out for you? All right, I guess I have to. Let me put it bluntly: Gant wants to have his dick up your ass first before the rest of the shit-heads in this dump get a hold of you." Walker chuckled nastily.
Victor gave Walker an incredulous look. "You-you can't be serious. He can't do that! He's-he's the C.O.!" The idea of Gant having the hoots for him was fairly alarming to Vic; or rather, the idea of any guy in this joint wanting to jump his bones was alarming. And to think, he had been worried about Mac's virtue!
Walker shook his head again and smirked. "Yeah well, you just keep on believing that, sweetie, even while Gant is pounding away on you. And I'm sure he will too since you're exactly his type." Walker shrugged and uncrossed his arms, said in a practical tone, "Get use to it, Smith. Sooner or later, every guy in here is gonna try to fuck you. Gant just likes to do it before everyone else."
Before Vic could respond, he heard the sound of the door unlocking and in came the man who was being discussed. Gant's eyes immediately trained on Victor even though his words were directed at Walker instead, "You're needed in the tower for a few. Tether the prisoner and remove his ankle chains. You can come back in thirty minutes; the search should be complete by then." As he said this, his eyes were sweeping up and down Victor's body. The expression in his eyes was that of a predator. When his eyes met the agent's again, he licked his lips.
"Gotcha," Walking replied knowingly to Gant. The guard strode over to the table that stood against another wall in the room and picked up a long, thick piece of leather that had large silver metal clasps on either end of it.
To Victor, it resembled an extra long dog leash. He inhaled deeply in concern.
Walker returned to stand in front of Vic and reaching out with an arm, he spun the prisoner around quickly. He clipped one end of the restraining device to a metal loop at the small of Victor's back, which was attached to his waist chain. Walker then reached a few feet over Victor's head and clipped the other end of the "belt" to a large eyehook anchored in the tiled wall. Kneeling down, he used his key to remove the cuffs and chain that had restrained Victor's legs. When he was done, he strode out the room without another word, leaving Victor alone for the first time with Gant.
From the way he was restrained, Victor felt, and was, completely helpless. He knew the device would prevent him from moving any considerable amount of distance in any direction. What Walker had told him about Gant's intentions made him even more nervous; he was praying to the God he'd known as a child that Walker was only trying to 'psyche' him out.
Gant gave him another hard look before going over to the small table. He began removing his pepper spray and keys and placing them on the table next to a box of rubber gloves, a tube of lubricant, and a set of the clothes that was the prison's uniform. He left his baton hanging on the loop of his utility belt and from the pocket of his uniform he pulled out a small switchblade. As he approached Victor, who was getting as nervous as hell, he pushed a small button on the weapon and out popped a three-inch blade that looked very sharp.
"Hey, shouldn't there be another guard in here or something when you search me?" Victor asked apprehensively.
Gant gave Victor an almost evil smile and replied, "Yeah but he was needed elsewhere so I'm gonna start without him." Placing the point of the knife underneath Victor's chin, Gant forced the man backwards until his back was up against the wall. He then reached out and grabbing the neck of Victor's plain white T-shirt, cut through the thin material and split it down the middle with a quick flick of his wrist. Victor looked down wide-eyed at the trail of blood the blade left on his chest where Gant had pushed the blade too far through his shirt.
There was only a faint sting from the wound for the cut was only superficial, but it still alarmed Victor and moved him to protest angrily, "You can't do this, dammit! You're violating my rights!"
"Rights?" Gant snorted derisively. "Rights. In case you forgot, you're in prison now. My prison! So the only right here is my right to do anything I damn well want to."
In one quick motion, Gant reached over with his other hand to pull Vic's T-shirt out of his pants and completed his task of cutting the shirt apart. He then forced Victor forward and away from the wall by putting his hand on the back of Vic's neck firmly.
Walking behind Victor, he quickly cut the arms of the shirt with practised efficiency so that it fell away, down to the ground, like a used Kleenex tossed carelessly away. Gant went back to stand in front of his captive again, this time reaching out and slicing off the top button of Victor's jeans despite his protest. When his blade caught in the small square opening at the top of the zipper tab, Victor froze in horror; the thought of castration ran across his mind automatically.
Luckily, Gant only used his knife to pull the brass teeth on his jeans apart slowly, one by one. When the last pair of teeth was separated, he pulled down both the agent's jeans and underwear in one motion. His hands were cold against the warm flesh of his hips, making Victor shiver in reaction.
Victor shot Gant a dark scowling look of disapproval and was about to protest when the C.O. pulled out his baton and before Victor could react, thrust the weapon in between the agent's legs, snugly below his bare genitals. Victor sucked in his breath sharply and blurted out, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Gant kept the stick where it was and pulled up on it slightly, causing Victor some pain and discomfort. "Shut up and do exactly as I say or I promise you won't make it out of this examining room in one piece. Got it?" To emphasise his words, he drew the cold wooden stick even further up, forcing Vic's balls up against his body.
Victor found himself rising to his tiptoes in order to avoid the baton's unpleasant pressure against his balls. He grunted and glared but did not reply. All he could think about was if he weren't chained down right now, he would beat Gant to a bloody pulp. Being in chains made him vulnerable, a position he did not like. All he wanted to do now was get this strip-search over with so he could get back to Mac and their pod.
There was safety in numbers.
However, despite his unease, he still didn't think the C.O. was really intent on sexually assaulting him. He wanted to believe that the man was just trying to intimidate him, to make sure he knew who the top dog in the pound was. At least Victor hoped that Gant was only trying to intimidate him.
Suddenly Gant pulled his baton out from between Victor's thighs and replaced it back on his belt. Victor sank back to flat feet in relief. He stared mutely at the guard, who by now was beginning to perspire.
"Don't try anything stupid. I don't want to have to mess up your pretty face," Gant warned as he kneeled down and pulled off Victor's Nike Air runners and plain white tube socks. He reached up and grasping both jeans and underwear, tugged them down until he had the material pooled around Victor's ankles. He left them there, and standing up, instructed Victor to step out of his clothes.
Victor did as told, albeit reluctantly and with a grim set to his mouth.
Without looking down, Gant then used one foot to sweep away the remains of Victor's street clothing. The man stepped back and went over to the table again to pull out a pair of latex gloves from the box. He wordlessly pulled on the gloves before crossing back to Victor.
Victor was beginning to feel embarrassed about his state of undress. What the hell kind of game is he playing?
Gant, on the other hand, liked what he saw, very much. The minute he had laid eyes on Victor, he'd known this was where they would end up. He always got the new 'fish' first, before they were broken and ruined by the other cons. Gant knew that both Smith and Jones would be the cause of countless fights between men vying for sexual favours from these two new and great-looking prisoners. He could've had both of them, but Victor Smith was more to his taste than Mac Jones. Jones was younger and prettier, but Smith had the kind of hard edge that Gant found hard to resist.
He loved stealing the hard edge from the eyes of guys like Vic. Not to mention the fact that Vic's big green eyes surrounded by all those dark lashes were damn sexy. When Gant finished his lewd appraisal of Victor, he went to stand at his side and grasped the man's head to begin the 'examination' for contraband. He tipped Victor's head to inspect closely. He did this for first the right ear, then the left. Next he ran his fingers through Victor's very short hair, feeling for pins, razor blades or any one of the myriad of small metal pieces that convicts might try to smuggle into the joint on any given day. When he was satisfied with the head examination, Gant began the body search by shoving his fingers in Vic's armpits and roughly digging them around the dark hair there. Though Gant could see that Victor didn't have enough chest hair to conceal so much as a bobby-pin, he nevertheless ran his fingers down the agent's chest and even brazenly passing the palms of his hands over Victor's nipples, making the small discs harden. Victor looked away in chagrin and tried to put his mind anywhere else but here in the room with this man. Gant then gave Victor a shove so that his back was once again against the cold, tiled wall. Crouching down, he looked up at Victor and smirked, "You never know where a con might try to hide things."
With that he thrust his hand between Victor's legs and ran a gloved finger over his perineum before bringing his hand out to cup Victor's scrotum. Victor cringed in response. After making sure that Victor was not concealing anything underneath his balls and in his pubic hair, Gant felt up both of Victor's muscular legs. "Lift your foot," Gant commanded and Victor complied. The man examined the underside of both of Victor's feet.
Satisfied, Gant stood up and reached into his uniform pocket to pull out a small penlight. Instructing Victor to "open wide", he shown the tiny bright light all around the inside of Victor's mouth, checking it thoroughly. Done with that, he shut the light off and re-pocketing it, stood and grabbed Victor harshly by the neck to pull him forward. Gant pulled out his baton again and tapped it in the palm of his left hand rhythmically as he slowly circled around Victor.
"Let's see how your other orifice checks out!" Gant exclaimed suddenly, as he swung and struck Victor on the backs of his knees, adding another set of bruises to the ones that were already on his ribs and in the middle of his stomach.
The blow caused Victor to buckle and fall as far as he could go to his knees. Though he tried to stop himself, he cried out in pain anyway. He was once again completely caught off guard, and he was at loss as to what had caused Gant to strike out at him out of the blue like that. As he knelt there, bent over as far as the tether would allow, trying to get some air into his lungs, Gant grabbed a handful of Vic's hair and yanked him back up to a standing position. Victor couldn't help crying out again from the burst of pain he felt on his scalp. Victor felt a sharp slap on his lower back and then Gant's arm reaching around his lips to force him to bend over at the waist. He was forced to straighten his knees; the position was very uncomfortable, for the backs of his knees were still throbbing from the blow.
Kicking at Victor's ankles, Gant forced the agent's legs open so that his feet were about two feet apart. "Don't move," Gant growled into Victor's ear before walking away again.
Victor had felt cold when he had first been forced to strip, but now his body felt hot and he was even sweating lightly; his legs and ankles felt as if they were on fire. Victor's head was beginning to throb in time with the ache in his legs as he fought for balance he brought his eyes up to see what Gant was doing. He saw that the man had put down his stick and was in the process of pulling on a new set of latex gloves. Even from where he was, Victor could see that Gant was sporting an erection.
Oh shit. Not good!
"What are you doing?" asked Victor weakly suddenly feeling very tired.
Ignoring the other man's question, Gant removed his utility belt, placing the heavy leather on the table top, then he picked up a small tube of KY jelly and turned to show it to Victor. "I'm thinking, a guy like you will probably have seen enough action so I don't think you'd be needing use of this." He raised his eyebrows at Victor and then dropped the tube back to the tabletop.
"No way. Use it. Use the damn lube and get this goddamned body search over with." Victor was surprised at how calm his voice sounded even though he was at the point of panic underneath. The thought of feeling that bastard's finger in his ass made him downright nauseous.
Gant poked at the tube with his finger but did not pick it up again. "Nah, I don't think you need it." He smiled cruelly at Victor but the agent was no longer looking at him. Turning back to the table, he dug around the box of latex gloves and found what he was searching for, a condom. He had concealed it amongst the gloves at the bottom of the box. He looked back at Victor as he dropped the small foil package into his breast pocket. He wanted Victor badly but at the same time, he was no fool; no matter how clean Victor looked, the guy could still have AIDS. Granted, his medical records did say he had tested negative, but Gant wanted to play it safe. His wife would have his balls if he came home with a case of the 'Clap', let alone a killer like AIDS. He draped a small white towel over his shoulder then walked behind Victor to admire his smooth, round ass. Gant loved it when he had a prisoner in his control this way. Sighing, he glanced quickly at his watch and saw that Walker would be back in another ten minutes or so.
Better get on with it, he thought with a small degree of regret, for he would've loved to admire Vic's ass a little longer. He knew this would probably be the last time he'd ever see them so perfect. Who knew what condition Vic, or his ass would be in after the other prisoners were done with him.
With a slow lick of his lips, he put his left hand on the small of Victor's back and without so much as a warning brutally pushed his forefinger into Victor's dry, virgin rectum. Victor howled in agony and tried to pull away from the probing digit, which was beginning to thrust in and out of his anus, but his struggles were futile. The tether saw to that. Now Victor knew why Gant had wanted him restrained that way; not to make an attempt at escaping from the room impossible, but to make escape from Gant impossible.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Mac stood in line unfettered and naked awaiting his turn to be checked. He started when he suddenly heard a scream. Though it was muffled by cement walls and steel doors, Mac knew immediately that it was coming from Victor. His heart was racing and the hairs stood up on his arms.
Jesus. Victor, what the hell are they doing to you?
All of a sudden he was very, very afraid for his partner.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Gant laughed and pushed in another finger to go with the two that were already inside of Victor. He had long since determined that Victor was in fact clean of any illegal drugs and devices. He knew that the dry entry would be painful for his captive, but that only made his erection all the more hard. In fact, Victor's struggles turned him on more, confirming the fact that he was in total command of the whole situation.
Victor fought to control his breathing and his body's reactions, thinking that this would be over soon. All he had to do was endure the disgusting and agonising intrusion for just a little while more. To his extreme relief, the invading fingers were finally pulled away. Somewhere behind him he heard the sound of paper ripping. Confused, he was about to turn his head to see what was happening when to his total shock and horror, Commander Gant shoved his sheathed cock all the way into Victor's ass with one hard, deep, and brutal thrust.
Victor screamed. The pain was so excruciating that Victor thought he was going to pass out. In fact, he was fervently hoping he would so that he would no longer have to feel the searing hot pain caused by the ripping of his tender tissue by Gant's barbaric and unrelenting cock. Victor heard someone screaming in time with Gant's thrust, and it took him a moment before he realised it was himself.
No! I am not giving him the satisfaction.
And with that, he bite into his lower lip hard, hard enough to draw a spurt of blood, to stop himself from screaming anymore. He couldn't help emitting slight grunts, but at least that was better than screaming.
Gant grabbed a hold of Victor's shoulders and dug his fingers into the flesh. The man beneath him had since ceased to struggle and holler. He was so tight that Gant knew that he wouldn't be able to last more than a few seconds longer. He leaned over Victor's back and increased his pace. Then he leaned over further and did something he had never done to another felon: he bit the back of Victor's neck, hard. Not quite hard enough to break the skin, however, but hard enough to leave teeth marks and a bruise that would stay for a few days.
Victor could feel every thrust as Gant pushed into him faster and faster; he could even feel the hot drops of sweat that poured off of Gant and landed on his back. He no longer had the strength or the will to keep fighting. Victor could feel the sweet sensation of blackness coming over him, and he wanted nothing more than to fall into the darkness of oblivion, but before he could fully pass out, Gant grunted his pleasure loudly, and came. As soon as Gant was finished cumming he pulled out. He watched as Victor fell to his knees, unable to support his body any longer.
Thoroughly satisfied, Gant looked down at his cock and saw that there was a good deal of blood on his condom. Carefully, he peeled off the used latex and tied a knot in the end, tossing it into the trashcan that sat near the table. Gant used the towel that was draped on his shoulder to wipe up some of the blood, mixed with semen, that stained Victor between his butt cheeks. Then he pulled up his pants and refastened his belt buckle. As he walked away from the kneeling man, who was oblivious to his surroundings; he peeled off his gloves and tossed them in the trash along with the towel.
Gant straightened his uniform one last time before turning to look at Victor, who was beginning to pull himself up into a standing position in a very slow fashion. When he was upright, the agent leaned one bruised shoulder against the wall in order to support himself.
Victor's mind was numb with shock. He couldn't believe that Gant had raped him. His brain couldn't accept it. Didn't want to accept it. His whole body suddenly felt very cold and he wanted to withdraw into himself completely until he no longer existed.
Gant continued to watch Victor steadily. After a few minutes, he said in a light mocking tone, "I guess you were right. I should've used the lube." The lock clicked then and both heads in the room turned to see Walker come into the exam room. Gant refastened his belt and replaced his pepper spray, keys and baton on it and started to leave. But just before leaving the room, he turned around quickly to Victor one last time and said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, "I told you your ass was mine." He then walked out the door and shut it quietly behind himself.
As soon as the bastard was out of the room, Victor's legs gave out and he slid to the floor in a daze. Walker shook his head contemptuously. "Man, are you weak. You've only been fucked once and you're already broken? You sure as hell aren't gonna last long in here," he taunted.
It took a beat for the words to sink in, but when they did, Vic turned to Walker and glared at him, his eyes shooting daggers. Walker only laughed. "Hey, and I haven't even had a piece of you yet. Why don't you save your poison until I do?"
With that, Walker walked over to the table to pick up Victor's new prison uniform and a small bag with the necessary toiletries. Victor's hard gaze never left Walker's face but the other man only chuckled in delight. He undid the harness that was holding Victor to the wall and grasping Victor's arm roughly, giving him a hard tug to make him stand up.
"You think you're in trouble, wait 'til the other guys see your pod-mate," Walker said as they left the exam room.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Mac and the rest of the chain gang were standing in single file facing a door that would take them to the large shower room for prisoners who were being processed. Mac was at the end of the line of men, and in his arms he was holding his prison garb along with towels, a bar of soap and a razor. The men stood in silence, waiting impatiently for their turn in the shower.
"What's the friggin' hold up? It's colder than my ex-wife's snatch in here! When are we goin' to the showers?" complained one of the two scruffy white guys.
Officer Wang strolled over to the complainer and wrinkled his nose in disgust as soon as the stench emanating from the scraggy con hit him. "Jesus Christ! Gorman, you smell like garbage. When's the last time you saw a bar of soap?" Wang looked the man up and down and shook his head. "Never mind, I don't want to know. And you'll go to the showers when I say you can, so shut the hell up."
Wang turned and walked away without waiting for a response, relieved that he was no longer breathing in the prisoner's rank odour.
A few minutes later, the door that led to the other hallway clanged open. In walked Victor, naked with his head down, clutching his bundle of clothing and toiletries bag tightly to his chest. Mac turned his head to look as Walker, who had a tight hold on Victor's left arm, brought him across the room to stand in line behind Mac. The other convicts, who had turned to look at Victor when he came in, now turned their heads quickly back to look straight ahead. All the men knew to mind their own business; it was advice to live by in a place like Kensington. Mac, however, did not turn away; he stared wide-eyed at his partner, unable to take his eyes off of Victor and the abused shape his body was in.
Victor had glanced up at Mac quickly when he came into the room, but other than, did not look Mac in the eye directly. He couldn't bear to. Victor was sure that Mac only needed to take one look at him to guess what Gant had done to him during the search. He felt a burdening sense of shame and anger; anger that was directed at himself for getting into this situation and then letting that bastard rape him. His body ached all over, but it was nothing compared to the ache in his rectum, which was magnified by the torment he felt in his mind. He didn't think that pain would ever go away; it would be a permanent reminder of what he had allowed another man to do to him. A reminder of his moment of disastrous weakness.
Never. I am NEVER gonna let that happen to me again.>
In his line of work he was used to being shot at, even captured and confined, and on occasion beaten, but never had the scum that he dealt with on a daily basis tried to do anything remotely close to what Gant had done. Victor bit down on his lip, which was still bleeding from earlier when he had done the same, tasted the coppery blood and swore to himself that he would kill anyone who came near him from today on for as long as they were in here. And he would rip anyone's eyes out if they so much as mention the incident.
"Alright, you assholes," Leary was saying, "Time to shower. Man, Gorman, you stink!" Somewhere in the line one of the other cons agreed with both guards' opinion by grumbling, 'No kidding'. With a grimace, Leary pulled his keys out to unlock the door to the shower room and waved the men in.
Mac desperately wanted to turn around to take a better look at Victor, to talk to him but Wang, who was at the back end of the line, stated severely, "No talking in the ranks you shitheads, so shut up."
As Victor went past Wang, the guard noted the bruises running up and down the left side of the agent's body and immediately recognised Walker's handiwork.
He really did a number this time. He must have a thing for this guy.
Wang shook his head in sympathy, but said nothing, it wasn't his place to comment.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Wang and Leary waited on the other side of the only entrance to the large, open shower room. Not so much to give the men their privacy, but rather because neither guard wanted to get wet, and besides, they liked to sneak a smoke during shower time so they wouldn't have to wait for their coffee break.
The shower room was large, about thirty feet in width and length with thirty long shower heads. There were no dividers to provide any kind of privacy for the inmates so the men who were pod-mates quickly paired up to take their showers together away from everyone else.
Victor and Mac stood side by side, showering in an uncomfortable silence. Victor's silence was due to his inner turmoil while Mac's was due to the fact that he didn't quite know what to say. He didn't even know how to ask Victor what had happened even though he was dying to find out. While he pondered about it, Mac turned around to let some of the hot spray wash over his back. He watched the water from the showers swirl down the large drain hypnotically. Suddenly he saw the water change from clear to light red. Startled, he continued to stare down at the drain for a few more seconds before it finally registered in him that he was seeing blood mingled with water going down the drain. He knew it couldn't be any of the other four cons since they were too far away and he knew that the blood definitely wasn't coming from himself....
Oh shit! It's Victor's!
As soon as the realisation struck, Mac snapped his head up to look at Victor, only to find that Victor was watching him. He had been looking at Mac as he was watching the blood go down the drain. From the nasty scratches down his chest to the round purple bruise that circled his navel, the result of being hit with the baton, Victor was six feet of black and blue. Mac couldn't help but notice the purplish-red bruising along his partner's ribcage as well. Earlier, when Victor turned around to face the shower spray, Mac had caught a glimpse of the backs of Victor's knees and saw that they were also a nasty shade of violet, mottled with red and blue streaks. However, Mac didn't think the bruises or the small scratches down Victor's chest were the cause of the red run off, so what could it be? Then he noticed something else: there were several small bruises up and down Victor's thighs and buttocks which had small bleeding lacerations. The bruises looked as if they could have been caused by fingers....
Oh God.
Mac met Victor's eyes again. He had a sick feeling that something more than just a thorough strip search had taken place in that room with Gant. Mac saw a look of immense sadness flicker across Vic's eyes for just one split second before a mask of coolness and detachment settled over the other agent's features again. He continued to hold Victor's eyes even though the other man was completely unreadable.
Finally, Mac cleared his throat and whispered, "Victor, what...what happened to you in there?"
At first, Mac didn't think Vic was going to reply; but after a long pause, the other man finally gave Mac a weak smile and replied, "I'm okay. Really. Ga-," Victor swallowed, "Gant just got a bit carried away with the c-cavity search is all." When he saw Mac glance at his ribcage, he added, "Walker got a bit rough showing me who the 'real' boss was. And that fucking asshole Gant used a couple of more fingers than he needed to when he was searching my...ass for hidden objects." Victor shrugged his shoulders and tried to smile at Mac again, attempting not only to reassure his partner but also himself that he was indeed okay. "I'm fine, really, Mac. Gant, he...tore me up a bit but...that's all." As an afterthought, he added, "I'll live."
"Gant!" Mac growled, "That bastard! I hope he's involved in all of this so I can have the pleasure of kicking his ass all over the Agency's interrogation room! I'll give HIM a cavity search!"
Victor turned away quickly to maintain his deceivingly calm facade. As he started soaping up his short hair, he mumbled, "I hear ya, brother."
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Kensington was the newest prison in the country, with state-of-the-art facilities. The entrance to the prison, which also served as an exit, was controlled by a fail-safe computer system with a built-in back-up system in case of a power failure. In addition, the 'main gate' - as it was called - was monitored by four guards who were safely ensconced behind bulletproof glass.
Each cell block had one control room which enabled the officers to monitor the whole block. The control room had ten monitors, each connected to a different camera that continuously recorded the movements of the population within any particular cell block. In addition, the control room guards also had to give permission to anyone who wanted to enter or leave the block since they operated the automatic lock on those doors. The guards that walked the blocks only had keys to the rooms within the block--even they could not enter or leave the block they were in without the guard in the control room granting access. As a result, the hacks maintaining peace inside the blocks were as much prisoners as the inmates themselves. They basically had to rely on the men in the control room to get them out of harm's way should the need arise, since they only carried a baton, cuffs, and zap straps. The actual artillery was kept locked up in the control room.
Kensington consisted of five prison blocks, which was basically five buildings surrounding a large courtyard. Block A and B sat side by side on the north side of the property and housed felons whose crimes ranged from auto theft to multiple murders. The two blocks were connected to each other in two manners: underground there was a series of service tunnels, corridors and hallways. The underground service tunnels and hallways were off-limits to the inmates; only guards and other employees of the prison were allowed to use them. The corridors were open to the inmates; the men were allowed to come and go through these corridors without requiring permission since they were connected to the various work stations, the weight room, gym, and library. Basically, almost everything was underground save for the cafeteria, kitchen, and a lounge for the smokers since smoking was not allowed anywhere else. As a result of this arrangement, the underground walkways were a maze of storage closets, service ways, and locked doors.
Blocks A and B were also connected on the first floor by a common cafeteria and kitchen which took up half the length between the two buildings. Behind the cafeteria and facing the courtyard was a fenced area with basketball courts set up for the inmates of the two blocks. Due to the volume of inmates, and in an effort to cut down on gang affiliations and activity throughout both blocks, each level was assigned a specific time to be outside in the courtyard.
C Block, which was on the east side, was a building standing unto its own. It consisted of two floors of solitary cells, three-fourths of which were currently occupied by inmates who had been sentenced as either a punishment for unruly behaviour or for their own safety. If a convict 'ratted' out another he would usually end up in a cell all alone in C block for his safety. All meals for the inmates of C block were cooked on-site in a small kitchen by a company contracted from the outside by the prison. This was done to eliminate any chances of vengeful inmates tampering with the food.
D Block held the sexual deviants and rapists. They had to be kept segregated from the rest of the regular population for their own protection. Past experience from other prisons taught the administrators of Kensington to segregate the sexual deviants since they usually didn't live very long. Child molesters especially, would get beaten to death after only a week in prison. So to prevent lawsuits and filing reports, the planners of Kensington had decided to let the sexual deviants and rapists have their own block completely.
Finally, E Block housed the criminally insane. It was a secure psychiatric ward with qualified psychiatrists and doctors to look after the inmates. E block sat on the west side, surrounded by a large, chain-linked, razor-wire topped fence. It was also a block with its entire own facilities including the same company cooking its residents' meals too. Even their guards were trained psychiatric nurses.
Mac and Vic were assigned to Block B. Even though the two buildings were joined, the men in A and B blocks rarely got to interact with one another since recreation and meal times were scheduled so that the two different blocks were never together at the same time. There were sixty-four pods on each level of Block B; the pods were split evenly down the middle by a walkway so that there were thirty-two pods on each side. At the moment, all the prisoners were standing in front of their pods waiting for the after- lunch headcount to end before moving off to their individual duties or recreational activities for the afternoon.
Wang had the guard in the control room buzz open the main doors and then directed the newcomers into Block B. All of the men in the group looked around at their new environment. Mac was amazed at the low hum that was vibrating throughout the whole place. The prison in Hong Kong had been noisy as hell; the inmates were especially excited when new blood was coming in. But compared to here, that place was as quiet as a tomb.
The inmates were just talking amongst themselves and at a relatively discreet sound level at that. The room itself looked sunny and strangely cheerful due to the large, very thick paned windows at the end of the walkway. Mac's expectations of what it would be like coming in here were beginning to go way off the mark from what he had envisioned. The prison in Hong Kong was a dark and dingy little crap-hole compared to here.
To Victor, the place sounded like the world's largest bee-hive. He was in awe at the shear volume of people in such a small space while impressed at the same time by how controlled they seem to be.
The men were given their pod numbers and then instructed to follow Wang. He pointed each pair to their pods. During this time, an eerie hush had come over the block as the inmates finally noticed the newcomers and focused all their attention on them. When the last pair before Victor and Mac were shown their pod, as if on cue, a barrage of cat calls aimed entirely at the two agents began.
"Eewwww-eee! Fresh Fish!" someone yelled, it was followed by a string of kissing and obscene smacking noises, mixed in with the standard wolf whistles. Victor's cheeks reddened slightly as his brain began picking out the various catcalls and taunts being yelled out to Mac and himself. He heard someone close by shout out, "Hey baby green eyes, need a daddy?" He tried to maintain a tight control over his emotions; he was extremely uncomfortable with all the shouting that was directed towards him. Still, he held his head high and found that anger and resentment was slowly bubbling to the surface, replacing the discomfort he felt. It was all he could do to not give into the rage of being on display. Victor wanted to know how Mac was doing, so he hurried and fell into step beside his partner. He glanced over at his partner and saw that Mac's face was barely reacting to the shouting and whistling at all; the only thing to give him away was the slight pink tinge to his ears.
Victor heard another taunt, "Lamb chops for dinner tonight, gonna eat me two of them!" He looked to Mac, who apparently, had heard it too.
Mac smiled reassuringly at Victor and whispered out of the side of his mouth, "It's almost over."
In reality, it had only taken the men less than one minute to walk the long stroll to their pod, but it had felt like a life time to Victor. He was not used to this at all. He had never actually been in with the regular prison crowd during the brief time that he had been incarcerated.
Wang unlocked their pod and the men hurriedly followed him in. He had to close the door in order for his instructions to be heard; the shouting was so loud. As he began to speak, a buzzer went off, signalling the end of the headcount, and the main doors that lead to the various work and recreational areas were unlocked. The rowdy B Block population began to slowly file out of the living area, making it possible for Wang to speak in a normal voice.
"If I were you two, I'd be careful about walking around alone for awhile...," he said with a smirk as he glanced over his shoulder at some of the cons who were still standing outside of their pods, staring in at them. He turned back to the men and added, "I have a feeling you'll be the favourite...ah...targets for some of the more aggressive guys in here. Don't worry though, that will probably change as soon as someone transfers out, and some new guys come in."
He yelled at the lingering inmates to move on before turning back to the two men and continuing, "Here's your rules sheet and rights book." He handed both Mac and Vic sheets of paper and a thin pocket size booklet. "Read 'em and learn 'em both."
At the sight of the rights book, Victor wanted to laugh out loud. After what happened to him, he knew that booklet had no real meaning in a place like Kensington. It was all just a bunch of bullshit. Smoke and mirrors. But instead of saying anything, he simply gripped the booklet tight and took a deep breath, controlling his emotions.
Wang flipped a page on his clipboard and then said to the men, "Smith, you've been assigned to the library." Victor turned and raised his eyebrows at Mac as if to say *Lucky me*. "Jones, you will be working in the kitchen."
"What?" interjected Mac, "The kitchen? I don't know the first thing about cooking." Mac scowled at Victor who was holding back the first genuine laugh he'd felt like having in this hellhole.
"Shut up," Wang said, mildly. "We have cooks, Jones. You'll only be helping out with the prep work and clean-up. Sort of a glorified busboy. You're actually replacing the last guy who dis--" Wang hesitated and thought about it for a beat before amending his words with, "...who was granted an early release." He cleared his throat and then continued, "Supper's at six sharp. Meanwhile, you can stay in here and get to know the rules and regs. There's a map in there of the place, so you know where to go. Tomorrow morning you can start your duties at nine in the morning." He handed each man another piece of paper. "Here's your time schedule with a description of your duties and the name of the trustee you need to report to at the top of the page." With that said Wang turned and exited the pod.
The minute Wang left, Mac turned to Victor and said angrily, "How come I've got to work in the kitchen? Huh! Can you tell me that? Grunt work...."
"Mac...." Victor, finally finding some humour in the day, was trying not to laugh at his partner.
"She hates me Vic, I'm telling ya, her and Dobrinski. They cooked this up, they're out to get me, I swear...."
"Mac, listen to me will ya? Calm down."
Mac who was pacing across the small room, stopped and looked at Victor, "What?" he huffed. Victor wanted to say he was sure that the Director probably really didn't have a whole lot of control over what was happening to them here; it was obvious, considering his very unpleasant experience with Gant earlier that morning, but then he thought better of it since he knew that would lead to questions about what DID happen to him so he decided to say instead, "Now listen. We were placed according to our dossiers. Remember? The Director probably padded my sheet hoping they would put me in the library, so I could try to uncover any paper trail to the four missing men. You know, scope out any connections with the guards or other personnel working when the men went missing. Besides, everyone knows that I'm way better with a computer than you are. She no doubt made your paperwork look like you would be best in the kitchen because that's where three of the guys who are missing were detailed, including Joseph Carter, the last guy.
"Also, since you're closer in age to the missing cons than I am, she probably thought she could serve you up as bait, or attempt to at least. The guys who are in on the disappearances might try to contact you because you're in your mid-twenties like the other three."
Mac stared dubiously at Victor but eventually he realised the logic behind the placing. "All right. " Mac said amicably.
"But who says you're better on computer?"
"Ohhh, just 'bout everybody," Victor teased.
"Bullshit."
Victor smiled at Mac and then handed him the sheet with the in-house rules of what they were not allowed to do. "Here," he said, "Read this and I'll go over the prisoner's rights manual." Reminded then of what Gant had done to him earlier, he stopped smiling immediately. In an effort to disperse the disturbing images from his thoughts, he asked Mac, "You a top or bottom man?"
"What?" Mac mumbled before he realised that Victor's unintentional double entendre. He blushed faintly but managed to collect himself.
"I said, do you want the top bunk or the bottom; either way, I don't care."
"Ohh, yeah. Um, I'll take the bottom if you don't mind." Mac replied.
"Okay." Victor made his bed up quickly and climbed on top of his bunk. He picked up the manual and tried to read it, but still could not keep his thoughts from wandering back to Gant and the rape. The more he thought about it the more distressed he felt. He could hear Mac below him trying to settle in on his bunk and somehow he was calmed by the thought that if he and Mac could just stick together then everything else should be okay. Of course it would be difficult to do so during their library and kitchen duties, but he was prepared to fight to kill anyone who got too close to him. Not that he was expecting much trouble anyway since the library didn't exactly strike him as a hotbed for perversion. He hoped Mac could take care of himself too when he wasn't around.
Before long, Victor's eyes began to grow heavy and before he knew it, he was sleeping a restless slumber and dreaming unpleasant visions of Gant, Walker, and the violation he'd been through.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Mac put down the sheet he had been reading and studied the bunk above him. He could tell by Victor's regular, even breathing that he had fallen asleep. As he watched the mattress above him shift with Victor's restlessness, Mac wondered again what was bothering him. He knew that Victor was more bothered by the rough strip search than he had let on. The casual dismissal of the event did not fool Mac at all; something else must have happened. He had an idea about what did; after all, he had grown up on the streets and had even been a prisoner himself before. He knew how the world worked. He had a feeling Vic probably hadn't encountered any problems during his brief prison stint the way he would here, so the entire experience of being 'paraded' to their pod no doubt came as a horrible shock to Victor. Mac hoped Victor could find the strength within himself to deal with it. He knew that no matter what he tried to say to make Victor feel better, in the end, it was still going to be up to Victor to mend himself.
Mac closed his eyes and began to slowly drift off himself. As he slipped into his dreams, the image of Victor standing naked in the showers next to him popped into his head and he was not at all surprised to feel his body rewarding him with a very sizeable erection.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
"Victor! Victor! Wake up, you're having a nightmare." Victor jerked awake and sat up straight in his chair. He was momentarily confused by where he was, but when he saw that he was still in his own apartment, and not in Kensington Penitentiary, he was extremely relieved. Apparently he had fallen asleep at his kitchen table while Mac and he were going over some paper work.
"Mac," Victor breathed, exuding relief in his voice, "Oh shit. You won't believe the terrible nightmare I just had."
"Oh yeah? Tell me about it," Mac requested with real interest. He put down the papers he was holding to give all of his attention to Victor.
Victor swiped a hand across his sweaty brow, then ran the palm of his hand down the front of his T- shirt to wipe off the moisture. He hesitated for a beat before answering, "I...I dreamt that after we got to Kensington, we ended up being separated by the head guard; his name was Gant. He told one of his underlings, another guard--Gant called him Walker--to take me to some examining room since he thought I might be trying to smuggle in something. But while I was in the room waiting for Gant to show up, that guard started kicking the shit out of me. I couldn't even fight back because I was still handcuffed." Victor frowned deeply, disturbed by what his memory was recalling. "But that's not even the worse part." He took a deep breath as he gripped the edge of the table tightly, "After Walker had left, I was...I was alone with Gant and-and he...he raped me." Victor shuddered then, the mere memory of the nightmare capable of shaking him to the core. "Oh God, Mac," Victor whispered hoarsely to his partner, "you don't know how relieved I am to find out that it was all just a dream. Shit, it seemed so real...so vivid...."
Mac gave Victor a sympathetic smile then reached across the dining room table to give the other man's arm a few light reassuring pats. He grasped the muscular arm tightly before saying solemnly, "That's cuz it was real. It's this conversation you're dreaming."
Victor stared at Mac uncomprehending, "What? What are you saying?" His voice quivered with uncertainty.
"You're dreaming all this," Mac swept his arm in a wide arc in front of himself to indicate the apartment, the kitchen, and even himself. "...right now. And it's time to wake up, Victor." Victor shook his head in denial but Mac only continued to repeat, "It's time to wake up Victor", as his voice began to get louder and louder...
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
"Vic, it's time to wake up. Hey. You're dreaming, Victor, wake up." Mac shook Victor's shoulders softly again and again to rouse the man.
All of a sudden Victor woke with a start, his eyes popping open to stare dazedly at Mac, whose face was right next to his. "Huh?" was Victor's response.
Though awake, it still took a second for it to sink in that the conversation he had been having at his dinner table with Mac was really only a dream.
Damn, a dream within a dream. Paging Sigmund Freud.
A profound sense of disappointment hit him when he realised the dream version of Mac was right. He was only dreaming. He was still in Kensington with Mac. And what happened with Gant and Walker was still a reality. He sighed inwardly. Time to get up. He only hoped that he hadn't called out anything revealing in his sleep.
Mac lifted his chin from the mattress of the upper bunk. He gave his partner a small smile before stepping down. "It's six already. We're gonna have to go to dinner soon." He had heard Victor mumbling unintelligible words softly in his sleep, the only word he was able to make out being a very firmly stated, "No!"
For as much as Vic tossed and turned in his sleep, so had Mac as well, distracted by his partner's restless slumber. The sounds of the men returning noisily from their various work and recreational activities had woken him up, but he was glad for the distraction from his own unsuccessful attempts to fall asleep again. He had got up and after stretching extensively, walked to the glass front of their pod to look out at a clock hanging on the opposite wall. There were no clocks in the pods of the inmates since the guards didn't want prisoners to tamper with them, so the inmates had to look to the many clocks on the walls of the blocks and other rooms for the time. When Mac came into view, the men passing by their pod had immediately started to make obscene sounds and comments, but after noting the time, Mac simply turned his back on them with a roll of his eyes.
Presently, Victor sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bunk and shook his head to clear the sleep from his eyes. "Jesus, is it six already?"
"Yep" Mac replied before turning from Victor to head for the toilet. He walked around the solid steel screen that was in front of the pod's "bathroom"; it provided the only shield from prying eyes. The thin metal board had no sharp corners, and it rose to only five feet tall from an inch above the floor. It was tall enough to hide Mac from mid-shin to mid-chest, and wide enough to cover his whole body with a little room to spare. He kicked up the toilet seat and proceeded to urinate, slouching in relief as the pressure that had been building up in his bladder released itself. "I actually can't wait for supper," Mac commented after a moment, "I'm starving."
"God Mac, how can you be so calm?" asked Victor as he gave the few men who were staring in at them a sour look. He was still sitting on his top bunk and the other men's obvious display of lewdness disgusted him. "We're gonna be with the others in a few minutes. Aren't you the least bit worried? I can't believe the crap those guys yelled at us today, I feel like I'm in a fucking display case." Victor turned his gaze away from the inmates, trying to ignore them. Then a guard came by and the men were ushered along. Victor was relieved; at least he no longer felt like a big goldfish swimming in a tiny glass bowl with hungry cats staring at him from the outside.
Mac zipped up his fly and deftly flushed the toilet with his foot before turning to Victor with a mild look of disbelief. He couldn't believe that Victor was actually embarrassed or even surprised at all the juvenile teasing. "I've heard it all before, tons of times, when I was in prison. Except most of the dirty comments were in Chinese instead of English. You were in prison yourself; you've had to have heard that kind of crap directed at you in there."
When Mac moved away from their tiny bathroom space and over to the small stainless steel sink, Victor jumped off of his bunk and went over to relieve himself as well.
After flushing and kicking the toilet seat back down, Victor turned around to face Mac. "When I did time I was segregated. I was a cop, remember? Even though I was a dirty cop, I was still the police. They weren't stupid enough to put me in with the others. There was no major strip search, no being paraded in front of the other cons. I came in by myself and did time by myself; that is until the Director dropped by with her deal." Victor looked away and went over to the sink to wash his hands too. He looked up and spoke to Mac's image in the mirror, "I'm not stupid, Mac. I know what goes on in places like this. I just thought that" Victor began to waffle.
"What?" asked Mac impatiently.
"Well it's just that I figured you'd be the only one getting hassled and hit on. I didn't think they would really say anything to me."
Upon seeing Mac's reaction, Victor turned back to him and demanded angrily, "What the hell are you laughing about? What's so damn funny?"
When he collected himself, Mac went over to his partner and said, "Vic, my friend, have you really looked at yourself in the mirror lately? Or ever?" He then held Victor's chin between his fingers in a light grip and looked intently into his partner's eyes. "I hate to admit it to you, Vic, but you're not a bad looking guy, you know? Jesus Christ, even with all your bruises, you're still eye candy for most of the horny guys in this place. I can't believe you would seriously think no one would notice you, especially with those eyes of yours...."
His speech slowly trailed off, as he continued to stare at Victor, suddenly mesmerised by his partner's eyes. Both men looked at each other in silence but the electric moment was all too soon interrupted by the dinner bell. Mac was the first to realise just exactly where he was and who he was gazing at. He quickly released his hold on Victor and cleared his throat, saying, "We'd better finish up, dinner's in fifteen minutes." He saw the worried expression pass through Victor's eyes so he added encouragingly, "It's better to just get it over with, Vic. Besides, you have me watching your ass." Mac smiled and a mischievous twinkle appeared in his eyes. "And you can watch mine in return. Deal?"
"Deal," Victor replied with a smile of his own as he caught the double meaning. He turned back to the sink to wash his face.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
As the men wove their way through the crowds, all of whom were heading toward the cafeteria, Victor found that being with the rest of the prison population was not as bad as he thought it would be. However, he never moved more than a few inches away from Mac's side. In order to distract themselves from hearing the lewd suggestions some prisoners were whispering at them as they walked by, Vic and Mac carried on a quiet, conversation about the time they broke into the Dominion Museum together. Mac was not really bothered by the other inmates' actions; he had enough confidence in his own looks to know that unwanted attention like that was expected. He ignored the most graphic taunts, and even a few groping hands.
Victor, on the other hand, was not as tolerant, and when he felt someone grope his ass, something inside of him snapped. He grabbed the guy's hand in a vicious grip and forced him onto his knees. Vic pulled at the con's arm so that his forearm was held straight, and clutched the man's wrist and elbow in a tight grip against his thigh. He then pushed against the con's arm with his two hands, making it quite clear that all he needed was to apply a little more pressure to snap the man's arm in two like a stick. The con, shocked at the speed and intensity of Vic's reaction, looked up wide-eyed with pain at Victor and stammered, "Hey man, relax. I-I thought you were someone else. A mistake. Sorry, okay?"
"Let the little shit go, Vic. You don't want a hack coming over to see what the problem is." Mac placed his hand on one of Vic's arms and was surprised by the amount of tension he felt there. No wonder the con was in pain; Victor was already putting most of his weight into his arms and onto the guy's forearm. He was extremely close to breaking the guy's limb.
"The problem is this fucking bastard just grabbed my ass and I don't fucking appreciate it!" Victor spat through clenched teeth. Ignoring Mac's tight grip on his arm, he pushed on the con's arm fraction more, making the guy whimper pathetically.
"Come on, Vic. Let him go," Mac repeated in a coaxing voice. The other cons walked around the three of them discreetly; no one said a word to the men or even commented on what was going on. But all of those that walked by knew that at least one of the *new fish* was not going to be an easy target.
Victor stared down hard for a moment longer at the man, whose face was sweaty and contorted in pain, before finally releasing his grip on the guy's arm and shoving the man away from him. "I'll tear your fucking arm off and shove it down your throat if you ever try to grab me again," Victor warned the con, who was now sitting flat on his ass and cradling his forearm and elbow tenderly. The agent looked around himself at the other inmates who were passing by and said to no one in particular, "The same goes for anyone who tries anything on me."
None of them said anything in return, but most of them heard the words clearly. Mac released Victor's arm and the two of them continued making their way to the cafeteria.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
As they were in the serving line for their food, Mac leaned over to give Victor some advice. "Listen...guys in here, they'll probably have lots to say to us, about us. It's best to just ignore them. You don't want to end up in the *hole* before your first day is over."
"Trust me, " Victor said dryly, "That would just be the icing on the cake from the day I've already had." He looked at Mac and saw that the other man was serious. "All right." Victor scowled. "I'll try to control myself."
"Good," Mac murmured, amazed that he had turned out to be the level-headed one this time.
Nice, for a change.
As they continued to push their tray along the narrow metal counter, Mac added nonchalantly while eyeing the food being served up by the inmates, "I doubt anyone will bother us for now anyway. There's too many guards around, and plus, there's no talking during mealtime."
Victor simply nodded his head in agreement. Just the same, he could still feel dozens of pairs of eyes on his back.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
After they got their food, Mac led the way to their assigned table. In the dining hall, their presence had caused a small stir and both men could hear low mutterings while going to their table, but generally, they were left alone.
The tables were assigned according to their pod number; the men were not allowed to just sit wherever they liked; again to reduce the chance of gang affiliations. Each table had a letter and number and seated ten to eight men.
Mac was starving, so the minute he sat down he started to eat. Victor, however, glanced around first at the other men at the table. Despite the earlier mild ruckus, it seemed that most everyone was busy shovelling down the bland food that was passed off as a nutritious meal. When Mac looked up and saw that Victor had barely touched what little food he did have on his plate, he frowned. "Hey, eat something, will you?"
Victor watched in disgust as Mac continued to eat, seeming to have no problem with the food. "How can you eat this shit?" he asked with a grimace, pushing the food away from himself.
Mac stopped with a fork full mid-way to his mouth. "What? The food?" Vic nodded his head. "Believe it or not, this stuff's gourmet food compared to the rice and boiled greens they fed me in Hong Kong." Mac laughed when Victor shook his head in wonder at his partner's apparently cast iron guts. "If you grew up like me, Smith, you'd learn to eat anything that wasn't green with mould." Though Mac was smiling and using Victor's pseudonym, he was in fact, quite serious.
Vic made another face after attempting to shove a fork full of mashed potatoes into his mouth.
Is this even real potato? Who can tell?
"Man, if a guard or another con doesn't kill me first, the food definitely will."
Mac chuckled in response. As the two men ate and chatted casually, neither of them noticed that at another table four men were staring at them rather intently and with a great deal more interest than any other con in the room....
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Back in their pod, after what Victor believed was without a doubt the most awful meal he'd ever eaten, the two agents started to put their heads together in an effort to come up with a plan for the investigation. Even though they had made some cursory plans before they'd arrived, the men found that they had to make some adjustments to them now that they were actually inside. Both men were sitting on Mac's bottom bunk, pretending to play a game of chess. Mac sat cross-legged while Victor had his left leg hanging over the edge of the bed and his right foot tucked under his left thigh. Every so often they would move a chess piece to another square or take off a pawn for effect, but the game was a just sham for the guards. All the other prisoners were already locked in for the night.
"Once I get myself situated in the library, I'll look up Carter in the computer, and also the name of any other prisoner who was released recently." Victor emphasised the word released with a sarcastic tone, knowing full well that Joseph Carter was still supposed to be incarcerated at the time of his disappearance. "I'll hack into the prison database and see if there's any documentation of a connection Joseph Carter had to the three other missing men."
Mac nodded his head in agreement and Victor continued, "I'll look for any ties to any particular guards that were on duty when Carter disappeared, see if they tie in to anything else. I'll see who his pod- mate was; maybe try to ask him some questions. What are you going to do tomorrow?" Victor picked up Mac's black knight and put it on the bed with some other chess pieces.
Mac, pretending to ponder over his next move, replied with, "Well right after I finish cooking breakfast for 10,000 people"
Vic interrupted with a gentle admonishment. "Maaac. You're exaggerating."
"Anyway, after I'm done slaving in a hot kitchen all morning, I'll ask around during the clean up and see if anyone knows anything. Find out if he had any enemies, friends, etc."
"If anyone gets curious as to why were asking about Carter," Victor leaned back on his elbows and stared thoughtfully up at the bottom of his bunk, "We should say he's our relative, something like that."
As Victor leaned back on his arms a little farther, he was unaware that his T-shirt rode up far enough to give Mac a delicious view of about four inches of his smooth, white abdomen. Mac could see a very small chestnut coloured trail leading from the bottom of Victor's still-bruised navel to somewhere below the band of his ill fitting prison pants. Mac had seen it all before of course, but somehow sitting here catching only a tiny peek between pieces of fabric was more tantalising.
Victor, with his face turned up and eyes closed in thought, was totally unaware of the effect he was having on Mac.
His partner licked his lips at the inviting pose Victor seemed to be striking for him. To Mac's surprise, his cock suddenly twitched and began to harden in earnest. Mac quickly reached behind himself and grabbed his pillow, placing it on his lap to cover his erection. He chewed on his lower lip nervously at his reaction. For some reason, Victor was having an effect on him these days that he was at a loss to explain. Just sitting here and staring at Victor was turning Mac on more than he would ever have thought possible.
All that Mac could think of now was that suddenly his partner had somehow gone from being just plain old, mildly annoying Victor, to a highly attractive hunk of a man.
How did I NOT see how sexy he was before? Man, was I blind? I must've been really distracted by Li Ann or something.
As Mac contemplated his new found attraction for Victor, he kept on staring at his oblivious partner.
Victor eventually opened his eyes and sat back up into a more comfortable position, obscuring the delicious view that he had been so generously providing for Mac; much to the younger agent's disappointment.
Victor wiped tiredly at his eyes with the heels of his hands and said, "Yeah, if anyone asks, just say Carter's your cousin. That way we can keep our stories straight. How's that?" Victor looked expectantly at Mac, who was still staring at him-or rather, through him, or so it seemed to Victor-as he waited for an answer.
"God, you're beautiful," Mac murmured softly. In an instant he realised the mistake he made.
Oh shit! What the hell did I just say? Mac was horrified.
Victor, not quite catching what Mac had mumbled, questioned, "What? I didn't hear you, what did you say?"
Thank Christ for small miracles.
Mac thought before quickly covering himself by answering, "I said, 'right, you betcha." He grimaced inwardly at the lame reply, but Victor seemed to accept it, allowing the younger man to breath a sigh of relief.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
In bed that night, with darkness enveloping him, Mac brought himself off to a very explosive, very satisfying orgasm by using images of Victor. After years of practice, Mac came in virtual silence. And when he caught his breath again, he smiled up at the bunk above him, knowing that Victor was up there sleeping, and so far, quite peacefully, totally oblivious to the fact that Mac was jerking off below him.
Mac would probably have been fairly shocked to find out that Victor was in fact not asleep. He was wide-awake and had been listening to the very faint sounds Mac made as he masturbated. He had to hand it to Mac. The man was very good at being quiet during orgasm. If it weren't for the fact that sleep was not coming to him easily tonight, Victor was sure he wouldn't have heard a thing. He had been lying motionless on his bed, thoughts meandering to the disturbing areas, when he finally realised that Mac was not asleep either. Victor's cheeks burned slightly at the thought of Mac's exposed cock as the man touching his rigid flesh sensuously to bring about release and pleasure.
Victor was dismayed when his own penis began to harden to the soft sounds of Mac jerking off. Even though his underwear became tight and stretched by the fullness of his erection, he resisted the urge to touch himself. He wasn't ready for any sexual activities yet, and he doubted he would be for a long time. So the agent simply rolled over to his side and tried, though without much success, to put Mac out of his mind.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
As both men were slowly beginning to settle into their routine prison life, they were also steadily beginning to work on their plan of action to find out more about Carter and the other missing men. During this time, Li Ann had still not visited either of them, nor had the Director, which was quite strange.
Presently, Vic and Mac were returning to their pod for the post-breakfast head count. As they stood outside of their pods, waiting to be counted off, Mac whispered softly out of the corner of his mouth, "I think I can start asking around about Carter today, the men I work with are getting used to me."
Victor, who was scowling at a big guy across the floor who was making eyes at him, grumbled back, "Yeah, last night, I finally figured out a way to hack into the system. I'm sure it'll work. I'll try it out today if I can." The agent narrowed his eyes further and glared at the con that was still giving him the looks. No matter what Mac said, Victor still didn't think he would ever be able to get used to another man's unwanted attentions, especially after what happened with Gant.
He was gradually beginning to replace the guilt and humiliation he felt from the incident with the guard with anger and determination. At this point, he rarely blamed himself anymore when he thought of what happened, but instead, his thoughts would turn to ways of revenge against that bastard.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
The con that was checking Vic out found it amusing that the gorgeous, green-eyed man was glaring angrily at him, as if that would really discourage him. The guy knew he could have anyone any time, due to his size and strength. He knew the names of the two of them already and even though the gorgeous new fish was sticking close to his pod-mate, who was a very pretty specimen himself, the con was still confident that neither of them were any match for him. He had come to believe that the two of them were getting it on with each at night when no one was looking, that would certainly explain their cosiness and their familiarity with each other.
Smiling and licking his lips lasciviously, he continued to stare at Victor. Of the two he enjoyed antagonising the older man the most since he produced the greatest reaction to the big man's lewd gestures and the dirty words that he would whisper in Vic's ear when walking by him, but the con was always very careful not to touch Vic just yet. He had heard about what happened to Gary Russell when the asshole had foolishly tried to cop a feel. Russell was still in the infirmary with a badly sprained arm and a bruised elbow, courtesy of Mr. Smith. Still, whether it was Smith, the one he considered edible, or his pod-mate Jones, who he considered delicious, in the end, he would have one or the other, preferably Smith of course. He smiled nastily. He would bide his time. After all, he had all the time in the world to reel in one of them, with or without their consent.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
When the bell went off, indicating the count was complete, Victor was released from his staring contest with the hefty con who just would not leave him alone.
That fucker lays even one finger on me...
Vic's hands clenched unconsciously at the thought. Mac turned to Victor to say good-bye before leaving for his duties. The two men made fists and tapped their knuckles lightly against each other, much like boxers would do before commencing a fight.
"Take it easy, man. See ya in the weight room later." Mac grinned at Victor. He knew that his partner had been shooting daggers at the big con across the way all this time, so he said in a practical tone to Victor, "He stares at you and says stuff to you because he knows it pisses you off, Vic. He gets off on your reaction. You realise that don't you?"
Victor only frowned in return. "Whatever. He just drives me crazy, every time I turn around he's looking at me like...I mean, how do you manage to ignore these ass-holes?"
"I'll tell you over lunch," answered Mac amicably, "I 'gotta go or I'm gonna be late for the clean-up." Mac turned and called over his shoulder as he left, "See ya."
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Victor walked across the centre of the block and stood waiting at a locked door for a guard to come and escort him and the three other prisoners that were assigned to the library and records room. The way to the library was through the underground corridors and they were off-limits to inmates who weren't escorted by a guard. The library was not open to the general inmate population. The prisoners had to make requests for their books and magazines; the requests would in turn be picked up by a couple of elderly inmates and brought to the library. The carts would be filled with the requested materials and the same inmates would then bring the books around to the men later that evening.
Four men from A block and four from B block rotated with each other so that at one time four men would arrange the library books and fill-out requests while the other four would work on the library's computers, doing menial tasks like entering the book requests into the computer logs, locating volumes elsewhere in the province if it was not available locally, and updating the book database when new books came in or old ones were lost or destroyed. If a book was not in stock, then requests had to be made to put a hold on it once it was available. The prison library had a good amount of both fiction and non-fiction titles, but its selection of law books rivalled any law school on the outside.
As Victor stood waiting for Officer Wang - who was late because, as usual he was sneaking a smoke in the guard's john - the big con who had been harassing Victor earlier came up behind him and whispered into his ear in an obscene manner, "Wanna fuck, handsome?"
Victor whirled around immediately, an outraged look on his face. In the last four days, he had managed to control his temper when it came to the inmates and the perverted thoughts they held for both he and Mac, which they would not hesitate to tell them. He had swallowed his fury enough to not lash out, but he still could not control his building anger and disgust, and now, he was teetering on the edge of his tolerance level. "Don't even think of getting your dick anywhere near me! I swear I'll cut it off and make you give yourself a blow-job!" Victor warned in a seething tone.
The large con only smiled at Victor. "Oh yeah? Well I guess your roommate might make a better lay after all." He was starting to walk away when Victor suddenly grabbed the large man's arm and with amazing force, thrust him face first up against the wall while twisting his arm violently behind his back. The Neanderthal only chuckled in response. "Ooh, so you like it rough, eh? So do you play rough with Jones too? Does he bend over and grab his ankles at the sound of your voice?" the pinned man needled nonchalantly.
"You stay the fuck away from him. You stay the fuck away from me, got it, you piece of shit?" Victor used his free hand to push the other man's cheek further into the cement wall for emphasis. Before the trapped man could answer, Wang came up behind the two men and demanded, "All right, what's going on? Don't you have some- where to be, Gates? Let him go, Smith."
Victor hesitated only a second before releasing Gates, who turned around to glare at Victor. He stabbed his index finger into the centre of Victor's chest and threatened, "Catch you later, meat." Victor ignored the man and turned to Wang instead to mumble a perfunctory, "No problem here, sir." He ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling heavily to release the adrenaline rush he had felt. If Wang had not shown up when he did and interrupted them, Victor honestly thought that he would've broken Gates' arm. At least now Victor had a name to go with that ugly face.
"Hey, if I were you, I'd watch my back very carefully from now on, man," warned a young inmate who had been standing nearby. The man was in his early twenties and Vic knew he lived in B block as well. Although he recognised the face, Vic didn't know his name yet.
"He's mean bastard. Really mean. Trust me...I know from experience." The affable young man smiled at Victor then held out his hand as they both filed through the unlocked door. "Name's Barry," he informed Vic.
Victor ignored the kid's out-stretched hand and replied, "Smith. And I'm not afraid of that dick head."
Barry smiled as pulled his hand away. "Yeah, well still, you better keep your eyes wide open." He waved to one of the guys from A block, whose group joined the men of B block. Barry said a curt, 'later' to Vic before taking off to move closer to the man that he had waved to so they could chat. The small crew of men began making their way to the prison library, escorted by four guards.
One of them was Walker, who happened to be working in A block because of this week's rotation schedule. Victor walked past him and stared hard, as if daring the guard to try something, but the other man was not about to be drawn into Victor's game. Instead, he looked Vic straight in the eye, a second longer than he should have, before flicking his gaze away. His face was even and calm the whole time; no one would've even guessed that there was bad blood between the two of them.
Victor shifted his gaze as well and continued to walk ahead of Walker. However, he thought he could still feel the hack's eyes on his back the whole way down the long dimly lit corridor.
Once in the library, the men were given their assignments. Victor was glad to find out that today he was assigned to a computer. He did have real work to do so he started on it first. The faster he got it done, the better. He didn't want to draw any suspicion to himself when he went through the databases later on. He also knew from observing the last few days that the best time to do the research on the database would be was when the hacks were huddled around outside for their smoke and coffee break.
The inmates were not supposed to be left alone, but the guards figured that since they were only on the other side of thick Plexiglas, they could still keep an eye on them. All the men who worked in the library were the more calm, level-headed inmates anyway, none of them had prior records of real violence toward other inmates, or anyone else for that matter. And though it was rare for a new inmate to be assigned to library duty, since that was considered a reward job for the inmates who had been on good behaviour, the guards never really questioned it due to the fact that the order for the assignment for Victor came from the powers to be.
Victor was beginning to know the men he worked with, and in another week or so he decided he would start asking them casual questions about Carter's disappearance. He staved off the questions for now, because he knew that since no one knew him, they would not trust him... yet.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Victor stretched his arms above his head to ease the slight pain in his back muscles. He rotated his neck to relieve the tension and when he glanced up at the clock high on the wall and smiled.
Break time.
He was working on a computer that was conveniently tucked away in a corner with a cubicle surrounding the desk he was sitting at. He stood up quickly to make sure that all four guards were outside, before sitting down and trying out the method he had thought of to hack into the prison computer system.
He soon found that - luckily for him - the password was the same for all the departments. Victor scanned through and when he found Joseph Carter's records, printed them out immediately. Fortunately also for Victor, the printer was sitting on a small table next to his computer and it was the quiet type. Vic leaned back to look around hastily, double checking to make sure he was still unnoticed. After exiting from Carter's records, he hacked into the medical records and printed out several things he thought might be of some use. In addition, he printed out the records that showed which prisoners had been released, early or otherwise, as well as those who had died and when.
He then jumped over to his last destination: schedules of the guards. He ran off the monthly work rotations for the last six months, including this month. He didn't know if he would be actually able to use the schedule to some advantage, but he figured it might come in handy.
When he was finally done, Victor exited from the prison database and returned to the library database. The printer had just finished printing and he was about to reach over and grab up the incriminating sheets when he heard, "What are you doing, Smith?" followed by the feeling of two strong hands gripping his shoulders.
Victor froze. //Oh SHIT. Okay. Calm. Stay calm, Mansfield.//
Walker leaned in close and whispered into Victor's left ear, "Don't worry, Smith, we're all alone. The other three are still outside." Walker stuck out his tongue and ran it lightly around Victor's earlobe. Victor tried jerking away, but Walker only gripped his shoulders harder to stop him. Walker sucked in the a small bit of Vic's earlobe, biting around the hoop that he wore, tugging on it with his teeth.
Victor wanted very much to pull his head away, but he made no actual move to get away. The man's touch disgusted him and he felt nauseous, Victor swallowed down his bile, afraid to aggravate the guard. But when the other man's invading hands began to massage his shoulders, it was all Victor could do to maintain his control and not break Walker's fingers.
Control, Mansfield. Control. Focus on the printer. The records. Stay calm.
Victor was heeding Mac's advice to not lose his temper, he knew he would do no one any good if he did. The last thing he wanted was to get shut up in solitary confinement for a week or even a month as a result of hitting a guard; God knows what would happen to him then. So Victor sat there and put up with the sick game Walker was playing.
"What," he finally hissed through clenched teeth, "is it you want?"
Walker laughed softly when he felt the muscles in Victor's shoulders bunch up beneath his hands. "Vic, Vic, Vic, why so tense?" he joked nastily as he kept on kneading Victor's shoulders. He leaned extra close, invading Victor's space and whispered in his ear again, "I just wanted to know how your ribs are feeling."
"Fine," replied Victor icily, saying no more to the man than he had too.
"And Gant? He didn't tear you up too much did he? I saw the towel. Pretty bloody," Walker said, referring to the towel Gant had used to clean Victor up with. Walker felt the convict's shoulder's tighten up even more and he smiled to himself; his mind games were working.
"I said I was fine." Victor wished Walker would get his hands off him soon, before he burst from the immense pressure that was building up in him. "Now if you don't mind, I've got work to do." He couldn't help giving into the urge, and tried to shrug off Walkers manipulating hands.
Walker held on tight though and sticking out his tongue again, ran it up from just below the neckline of Victor's T-shirt to his left ear, where he gently dipped his tongue in again and then blew in a hot breath of air. The action made Victor to break out in goose bumps, much to his chagrin.
Suddenly, Walker stood up and clapped Victor on the back. "No, I don't mind," he said evenly, "I'll let you get back to your work then, but we'll have to talk like this again sometime... soon." And then Walker and his invading hands were gone.
Since he had his back to the guard the whole time, Victor didn't know that Walker had noticed the sheets of paper that were sitting in the printer's basket, he had just chosen not to say anything about it. Walker smiled to himself as he went back to his three colleagues who were still puffing away outside the door to tell them that break time was over. He had intentionally let the other three take a longer break time so that he could play with Victor.
As soon as he heard Walker moving away, Victor took a deep breath in relief and waited a moment more before turning around to make sure the guard was gone. Satisfied, he turned back to the desk and placed his head in his hands. He began breathing in and out deeply to suppress the nausea he felt. He was really tempted to just turn and bend over, and empty his guts out right there on the floor. He could still feel the imprint of Walker's hands on his shoulders, that vile tongue running a wet trail up his neck and if he had a knife now, he would use it to scrape at his flesh until the feeling was gone. After another minute, he hurriedly stood up to snatch the papers in the basket, folded them, and then stuffed them in his pants, pulling his shirt over them. He then turned back to the computer to do some idle work in an attempt to take his mind off Walker.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Mac removed his rubber gloves with his front teeth and held them there, and then for the *nth* time scratched at his itchy scalp which was hidden beneath a hair cap. He dragged his forearm across his sweaty brow and sighed heavily. He thought, with envy, again about how lucky Victor was to be in a nice cool library instead of sweating in a hot, clammy kitchen over a steaming sink of dirty dishes the way he was doing. Mac shook his head; he was definitely going to take some computer classes when he got of out this place.
"Quit yer dreamin', Jones and get back to work, the prep shift for lunch starts in half an hour," the trustee for the kitchen intoned.
The man's name was Townsend, and the guards all called him by that, but when it came to the inmates who worked under him, he insisted that they called him MR. Townsend. The older black man was halfway through a 25-year stretch for second-degree murder. Due to his good behaviour at another facility, Townsend had earned a transfer to Kensington, which was great deal better than the penitentiary he had come from. He took his duties as trustee for the kitchen very seriously for he wanted to ensure that he would never get sent back to the old place. Although he projected a stern image, he did it so that the inmates would listen to him, especially the newcomers whom he didn't know well yet. In reality, he was not at all hard to get along with.
When Townsend moved on, Mac reached out and pulled down the rubber hose which had a showerhead that sprayed extremely hot water when the lever on it was depressed. He picked up another stainless steel tray and hosed off the leftover contents before placing it on a rack that already had about twenty other trays on it. The rack held thirty trays only, so when it was full Mac had to load it onto a tall metal cart that only had space for ten full racks and push it over to where the dishwashers stood. Other inmates were in charge of putting the trays through the dishwashers.
After Mac was through cleaning the trays and the Tupperware-like mugs, he would then have to start in on the utensils that were used in the kitchen, as the inmates in the dining room were only allowed to use plastic knives and forks. After that it was time to scrape out the pots and pans from the kitchen so that the men who were actually assigned the job of cleaning the cookware could hand wash them in their own large sinks. Mac hated this detail, but he had to admit at least his fingernails had never been cleaner. When he was done r