Virgil wasn’t looking forward to proving himself. Even if he managed to survive and convinced Buzz to sponsor him, he’d have to assault an HF enemy for initiation purposes and make it brutal enough to be decisive and believable. That would be tricky to orchestrate without actually hurting someone. He’d have to work out the details with Peyton if he hoped to make a fake stabbing look real; he wasn’t sure that could be faked. Coordinating with her wouldn’t be easy. The more often he contacted her, the more often he risked exposure. He couldn’t call her unless they were allowed on the tier. If there was really as much unrest here as Buzz had intimated—and Virgil saw no reason to doubt him—he might not have the opportunity to use the phone. Pelican Bay could go into lockdown and stay that way for months. The prison had a long history of resorting to those measures. Wallace had said as much while they were driving to Crescent City from Sacramento. All conversations from pay phones were taped, anyway. Virgil had known they would be, of course, but the associate director had warned him of that, too. Wallace had filled him in on a lot of things…including how badly he wanted to get into Peyton’s pants.
Catching himself, Virgil tried to put Peyton out of his mind. It required constant effort, but thinking of her made him more anxious than he already was. Especially when he acknowledged that Wallace was set on making his desires real, and he wouldn’t be around to do anything about it.
While drinking some milk, he let his gaze circle the room again. Blacks ate in one corner, Mexicans in another. There were some stragglers in between—fags, misfits, even a couple of transvestites.
Buzz ate with a group of whites across the room. Not all of them were tatted up to the degree Buzz was, but the amount of ink extending beneath the sleeves of their prison-issue blue shirts and on their necks and heads added to the intimidation factor. They counted on that; it was part of the reason they got so many tattoos.
As Buzz spoke to those around him, he nodded toward Virgil. When the group realized he was paying attention, they rose to their feet and openly glared at him. One even called out, “You think you’re a badass, huh?”
Virgil wanted to ignore them and eat his dinner, but he couldn’t. Such aggressive behavior was the equivalent of throwing the first punch. They were disrespecting him to see if he’d take it. If he didn’t retaliate, it would be that much harder to win their respect later. Maybe it would be impossible. And if he couldn’t gain any power in here, there’d be no purpose in staying. It would all be over. For him. For Laurel. For Laurel’s kids.
So instead of finishing his meal, he shoved the tray aside and, with a grin, gave them the finger.
Fortunately, Peyton hadn’t been in any hurry to leave the prison. She’d worked late, then lingered in her office, trying to figure out a way to see Virgil before she went home. She thought it might put her mind at ease to know he was okay and in good spirits. But before she could make any arrangements, she received a call from an officer named George Robinson in Facility A letting her know there’d been an altercation in the dining hall.
Four men had attacked one. “Simeon Bennett” had been involved and was injured. Robinson gave her the names of the others, too—names she recognized as members of the Hells Fury. Virgil had jumped into the thick of prison politics and created a disruption, because that was what he had to do.
Either he’d get what he wanted or he’d die trying.
She feared it would be the latter.
“How badly is he hurt?” she asked.
“Which one?” Robinson wanted to know.
Aware that she was pressing the phone too tightly to her ear, she eased up. “The new transfer, Simeon Bennett.” She knew it might seem strange that she’d ask about one convict specifically, but she didn’t care. She had to know if he was okay.
“Hard to tell,” he responded. “He’s covered in blood. We’ll know more once we get him cleaned up.”
Oh, God, it’s happening, she thought. But that wasn’t what she said. She kept her voice as cool and impersonal as she could, given that her heart was beating in her throat. “I’ll be right there.”
He didn’t bother to respond. The phone clicked and she jumped to her feet.
She was rushing down the hall when the warden hailed her from behind. “Peyton?”
Reluctant to stop, she considered ignoring him but couldn’t bring herself to do it. It was far too apparent that she must’ve heard him. “Yes?” she said, turning back.
“May I have a word with you?”
He wanted to tell her what he’d come to her office to discuss earlier, no doubt. But she didn’t have time for it. “I’m afraid I’m in a hurry, sir. Could we discuss it tomorrow?”
His expression told her he didn’t appreciate her response. “Where are you going?”
Most of the administrative staff was already gone, but she still hesitated to discuss Virgil in the open, where someone might overhear. “To the infirmary.”
His eyes widened. “Why? Is everything okay?”
“There’s been a fight in Facility A.” She couldn’t prevent the accusation that crept into her voice. She’d tried to warn the warden that Virgil wouldn’t be safe at Pelican Bay; she’d tried to warn them all.
“How many were involved?”
“Five, from what I’ve been able to gather.”
He shook his head but his sympathy didn’t seem genuine. “How bad is it?”
“Don’t know. The C.O.s have it under control, but several men are injured. Simeon Bennett is one of them.”
She thought he might show some concern by going to the infirmary with her. Virgil didn’t even deserve to be in prison. He was risking his life to save his sister and her kids and bring down the Hells Fury. But Fischer didn’t care about that. No one did. “If it’s under control, there’s nothing you can do.”
“I just…I wanted to check on…them.”
“Give the doctor a chance to do his job. Anyway, this won’t take long. Do you mind?” She did mind, but she knew she had no choice. Curving her fingernails into her palms, she followed him to his office. “Yes, sir?” she said as soon as he closed the door.
“Rick Wallace called me today.”
“He did?”
“He did. He mentioned that he and his wife are splitting up.”
She didn’t care about Rick’s marriage. It was all she could do not to tap her foot. “He told me that, too. Unfortunate, isn’t it?”
“That depends on how you look at it.”
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t know that he’s interested in you?”
Oh, hell. Rick had already spoken to the warden? She’d said she wanted to wait until they were finished with Operation Inside to address any personal issues! “I had some idea, of course, but I told him it’ll never work, that the department would never allow it.”
“Actually, I’m not so sure about that. I’m in full support of it. You work too much. You’ve let your job become everything when there’s so much more. I think the two of you would make a perfect couple.”
She wondered if he’d give her his blessing to see Virgil instead, but she wasn’t about to ask. She wasn’t about to discuss Rick with him, either. “I doubt it’ll come to anything,” she said. “But thank you, anyway.”