‘Is that all, detective?’
Singh opened her eyes, regarded Ashton with a look of clear frustration and nodded.
‘Yes, ma’am.’
As she angrily wrenched open the door to the office, Ashton sat back in her chair, victorious.
‘As I said, I consider this entire ordeal over. Is that understood?’
Singh slammed the door, ignoring her senior officer’s question and she headed straight for the stairwell, her body clambering for a hit of fresh air and the chance to clear her thoughts. As Singh stepped out into the brisk wind, a gentle splattering of drizzle greeted her. Outside one of the entrances, a few officers were chatting over a cigarette. She walked across the Embankment, looking out across the river once again, regarding the dull, grey city that transformed overnight into a magnificent skyline.
Sam was gone.
He had forfeited his freedom for her and now he was locked away in a place worse than prison. She owed it to him to find out where, to ensure he was okay, and possibly have the decision reversed.
But if Deputy Commissioner Ashton wasn’t willing to talk, then Singh knew there was only one more step up the rung she needed to climb to find the truth.
* * *
When the door to his cell opened the following morning, Sam wasn’t surprised to see Warden Harris. With his hands on his hips and an apologetic smile, the Warden looked like he’d had a rough morning. With his crippling disease increasingly dominating his body, Harris was facing a very real possibility of stepping down from his role.
Either that or he would be pushed.
Sam had enjoyed the peaceful night in solitary. Despite the lack of bed or anything remotely resembling a human touch, he’d regulated his heart rate after the electric shock and soon found himself drifting off into a dreamless sleep.
Most nights, he was haunted by heartbreaking images of his son, his innocent smile beaming towards him. But ever since he’d buried the ghosts of his past and found out the truth about Project Hailstorm, he found he was sleeping easier.
What worried Sam most, was the less he dreamt of Jamie, the further from that life he ventured.
Harris shuffled in, trying his best to hide his discomfort, his left foot barely leaving the ground as he entered the cell, the light from the corridor illuminating his path.
‘You don’t look so good?’ Harris offered.
‘I could say the same thing.’
Harris chuckled and extended his hand, which Sam took. Sam hauled himself up on his own, not wanting the warden to exert any more effort than was needed.
‘Let me guess. You were misbehaving again?’ Harris asked dryly, not believing his own words.
‘If you call being chained to and forced to fight a violent inmate for the entertainment of the prison, then yeah. I was misbehaving.’
‘Christ,’ Harris uttered, to himself more than anyone. He shot a glance over his shoulder, where Sharp stood calmly in the corridor. ‘Not this again?’
‘Oh, I’m not surprised it’s happened before.’
‘Would you be surprised if I told you that we had an issue with our security camera feed last night? For a few hours, we lost all transmission from every camera within the facility.’
Sam shook his head, looking beyond the distraught warden to Sharp, who fixed him with a mean glare.
‘Computer’s, eh?’ Sam shrugged. ‘I’m sure Sharp knows what happened?’
Harris turned to face Sharp once again, who stepped forward to attention.
‘Sir, Pope lashed out at an inmate and shattered his arm. I thought an electric shock was a more than justified approach to restraining him.’ Sharp raised his eyebrow. ‘After all, he did tell us he was dangerous.’
Harris furiously squeezed the bridge of his nose and then walked out of the cell. Sharp smirked at Sam, motioned for him to follow and the three of them headed towards the stairwell. After a few steps, Sharp shoved Sam in the back, drawing a heavy sigh from Harris, who stopped.
‘Sharp, please wait for me in my office.’
‘Sir?’ Sharp protested.
‘Get out of my sight.’ Harris’s change in tone caught Sam by surprise. Behind the deteriorating body, the fire that had seen him entrusted with the most dangerous prison in the UK still remained. ‘I’ll deal with you shortly.’
Sharp held his tongue, shot Sam a look as if it was his fault and then stomped towards the stairwell like a petulant kid. Sam watched him leave before turning back to the Warden.
‘You do realise he thinks he runs this place?’
‘The higher ups see him as a model employee. Tough on the prisoners, but no offence, our guest list is hardly the pride of the country.’
Harris leant forward, pressing his hand against the wall and he gritted his teeth in agony. Struggling to steady himself, Sam reached out to provide some stability.
‘You okay, sir?’
Sam’s kindness took Harris by surprise and he uncomfortably nodded.
‘I’m fine. Thank you. My body just can’t keep doing this.’ Harris straightened up. ‘For what it’s worth, Sam, I don’t think you belong here.’
‘I’ve done a lot of bad things, sir,’ Sam said ruefully. ‘No matter why I did them, I still broke the law. I put a lot of people in the ground. I don’t regret doing it, but I don’t blame the government for putting me here.’
‘Well, if it’s any consolation, I’ve asked them to investigate why your transfer was so last minute. Usually, these things take a few weeks to process.’
Sam shrugged.
‘I guess somebody wanted me in here.’
Harris stood up straight and then motioned for them to continue. As they approached the door, Sam held it open for Harris, who was once again perplexed by the man’s integrity.
He was a soldier. Not a criminal.
As they stepped onto the prison floor, they were greeted by two guards, both of whom Sam recognised from the baiting crowd and both of whom were sheepishly looking at the floor. They were to accompany him back to his cell but before they did, Harris rested a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder.
‘Until I find out how it
