“Absolutely.”
“Tickety-boo. Come on then, jailbird, let’s go see your new cage.”
She escorted him to a side door, which opened using a hand scanner discreetly stashed behind some bushes. Because he had the kind of mind that looked for such things, Arthur reckoned he clocked several well-hidden cameras that were monitoring their movements. Either that, or this place had a lot of smoke alarms. Inside, Joy led him through a kitchen and into a large living room.
“Sit there,” she said, indicating a couch in front of a massive TV screen. “A woman will be in to see you presently. I’m gonna go have a shit and a shower. Feel free to try to escape again. I guarantee my fairy godmother is watching you right now, and I know she’s got some toys she’s dying to try out.”
Arthur raised his hands in surrender. “I’ve learned my lesson.”
“We live in hope. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I got sweaty balls.”
“Ehm …”
Arthur watched his liberator-cum-captor leave. He sat there for a couple of minutes, reassuring himself that this wasn’t a dream. He was pretty confident he didn’t have the kind of imagination that could dream up Sister Joy. He wasn’t sure anyone did.
He only realised he was falling asleep when the sound of a door opening jerked him awake. A woman entered, who, like Sister Joy, was also wearing a habit. However, she didn’t give off any more of a nun vibe than Joy did, albeit for different reasons.
She was in her forties, perhaps, but her smooth skin and striking cheekbones could’ve made her a model. Arthur was smart enough not to say that out loud, as it sounded way too much like a line, and not a good one.
She stopped in front of the TV. Arthur noticed she was holding two folders in her hands.
“Let me guess, you’re the Mother Superior?”
“No, Mr Faser, we don’t have one of those. I am in charge, though. You can call me Sister Dionne.”
“OK,” said Arthur. “Well, while I sincerely appreciate the rescue from those knuckle-dragging inbreds, I’m afraid I can’t do what you want.”
“Is that right?” said Dionne. “And what exactly is it that I want?”
“You need me to help you get somebody out of prison.”
“Actually, we need you to get two people out of prison.”
Arthur laughed. “Super.”
“The prison in question is Longhurst High Security.”
“I haven’t had the pleasure,” said Arthur, “but I’ve heard good things. Let me save us both some time. I broke out of a few prisons, but that is vastly different to being able to tell you how to get someone else out. You need to be in there – to see the measures first hand, watch the procedures, find the little cracks of daylight slipping in. You can’t just show me a schematic of a building and I—”
Dionne cut him off by reaching for a remote control that sat on the coffee table. She used it to switch on the large TV behind her.
“OK, you got footage of the prison, but—”
“This is a live feed.”
“You’re shitting me?”
“No. We’re up on almost all of the prison’s cameras.”
“How did you manage that?”
“Act of God,” responded Dionne.
Arthur gave her a long look. He wasn’t sure how serious she was. They locked eyes for a moment and then Dionne rolled hers. “We have someone who is pretty good with this stuff. More importantly, she has access to people who are great at it.”
“Well, OK, but—”
Dionne held up her hand. “How about I save us some time by bringing you up to speed as quickly as possible?” She dropped the control onto a nearby chair. “Two friends of mine – Sisters, in fact – have been taken by representatives of the Ratenda Cartel. They’re a particularly vicious Mexican operation, recently formed after another of that poor country’s bitter drug wars. To get our friends back, we have to break out a man by the name of Carlos Breida, who is currently in Longhurst on a conspiracy to commit murder charge. In order to get him out, we sent a friend of ours in.”
“How did …?”
“He got arrested three days ago in a town called Stanton. When they ran his prints, it transpired he was an escaped felon who absconded from Carson City state prison twenty-eight years ago. We hacked the database and swapped around some fingerprints and mugshots. Nobody questions whether somebody would pretend to be a wanted escaped felon because, well, why would you?”
“What did you have on this poor sap to get him to do this?”
“Nothing. He volunteered.”
Arthur raised his eyebrows.
“The two Sisters I mentioned earlier? He wants to get them back as badly as we do.”
“So, he’s got to make contact with this guy?”
“No. Any minute now, he’ll be moving in as his new cellmate.”
Arthur paused. “You are joking, right?”
Dionne gave a little smile. “Just because we need your expertise in getting out of a prison, don’t think we haven’t got skills. Mr Breida, due to some sweetheart under-the-table deal with the prison authorities, has seemingly always had a cell to himself.”
“How did you get around that?”
“A little finesse.”
“So, this Breida guy is some kind of Mexican mafia don?”
Dionne held up one of the folders and then dropped it on the table. “No, at least not as far as we can see. He has no record. Neither the DEA nor anyone else seems to have any interest in him. It seems he got drunk and was involved in a fracas in a Vegas casino with two associates. Up until that point, it looks like he didn’t exist. Having said that, he’s only taken out into the exercise yard when it’s empty and, well …”
Dionne picked up the remote, pressed a button and the screen changed to show three guards escorting a prisoner down some stairs in the middle of a cell block. The prisoner was a massive man who had
