Xchange

by Stan Mason

  ‘How do I get to Lancaster jail?’ asked the reporter, dismissing all fears that she may be incarcerated in Lancaster jail for illegal entry. The adrenalin began to pump through her body and she knew that she was always at her best when the risk was greatest.

  Griffin thought hard for a moment and then came up with an ideal solution. ‘You realise there’s no way you can get into the vehicle transferring the prisoners,’ he told her. Equally, you’ve no chance of getting into the jail in the normal way... through the front door. Four guards will be inside the coach and I’ll have a guard sitting next to me in the passenger seat for the whole journey but about two miles from Lancaster jail there’s a low bridge. If you want, I can slow down almost to stop before going under it. As I pass under, you can lower yourself onto the roof of the coach. I’ll be driving a big white vehicle with a black cross on the top. That’s so helicopters can spot it if something goes wrong. When I drive inside the jail, you can slide off the roof and mingle with the female prisoners. But let me say that I’ve got no idea how you get out of the jail.’

  ‘We’ll come to that problem when we get there,’ she commented bravely. ‘What time are you leaving London?’ She now knew without doubt that she was in the forefront of a major scoop which would stun the nation and excitement built up inside her. She could hardly wait to get started!

  At three o’clock in the morning,’ replied Griffin calmly. ‘We should arrive at the jail at about nine. If you decide to come, you’d best be on the bridge at about eight o’clock just to be certain. Otherwise you might miss me.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ returned the television presenter eagerly. ‘I’ll be there!’

  ‘How much is this information worth to me?’ asked the caller with dollar signs in his eyes.

  ‘If this goes the way I think it’ll go, George, you’re going to be paid handsomely,’ she told him.

  ‘By the way,’ concluded the driver. ‘You’ll need to wear a uniform like the women prisoners in Holloway. Otherwise you stand out like a sore thumb.’

  With that advice in mind, Sky ended the call quickly, looking at here wristwatch to note the time. She was under extreme pressure to make certain that she was on the bridge before the prison vehicle arrived. Her informant was right. She would need to obtain a uniform worn by the female prisoners at Holloway jail. She would then have to fill up her car with petrol and find a stout rope by which she could slide off the bridge without injuring herself in the process. There wasn’t a moment to lose! In addition, she was going to go to a restaurant for her evening meal. That was now out of the question but she needed something for she didn’t know when she would be fed thereafter, especially as she expected to be in Lancaster jail undercover for the whole of the following day.

  Armed with a tiny tape-recorder and an even smaller camera which fitted neatly into the pockets of the uniform, she climbed into her car ready for the long journey to Cumberland. It was essential that she got to the bridge before Griffin arrived there. The adrenalin was already surging through her body; nothing else held any importance in her life. She knew in her soul that she was on her way to the most fantastic story of the century. However in order to find out more about it, she had to throw caution to the winds. She arrived at the bridge a short while after seven o’clock . The sky was beginning to brighten although dark clouds persistently blotted out the morning sun. The area was extremely bleak, consisting of a plethora of green fields interrupted by groups of trees and intermittent bushes in open countryside. The only feature of command in the place was a set of crossroads beyond the bridge by which traffic could go its separated ways. She waited patiently on the centre of the bridge as the cold with the wind blowing sharply across the plain, shivering as the cold penetrated her clothing like a hot knife cutting through butter. Where was the white coach with the black cross on the top of it? She had tied the short thick rope she had brought with her around one of the girders of the bridge, making certain that it would hold her weight, although she felt most reluctant to have to climb over the rail and slide down on it. However there was no option but to do so at the appropriate time.

  During the next half hour, traffic was relatively scant in the early morning. A number of saloon cars plus a few lorries passed through but the white coach failed to appear. Then, when she felt that she had been given duff information, she spotted it coming towards her in the far distance. Yes... it was the white coach with a black cross on the top! The time had come for her to spring into action! She shivered again as the cold breeze swept across the area and, as arranged, the coach slowed down almost to a halt as it entered the bridge. In an instant, Sky climbed over the rail and slid down the rope to drop almost silently on to the roof of the coach, laying full length to avoid being struck by the bridge as the coach moved under it. Within twenty minutes it arrived at the front gate of the Lancaster jail and she found herself inside the prison. The rear doors of the vehicle were opened and the guards leapt out ordering everyone inside to get out. As they closed the door of the empty vehicle, Sky slid unnoticed on the other side of the coach and filtered in with the women prisoners. She had made it to the jail looking exactly like all the others in a Holloway prison uniform.

  ***

  Bill Preston was very disconcerted at the change in the nature of his employment notwithstanding that he detested the exchange programme from a personal point of view. To his mind, everyone had a life, however good or bad they had been in life, and it was not the prerogative of the Government to change it for any reason whatsoever. The change from prison governor to controller of the exchange programme was definitely not to his liking. Had he the opportunity to make the choice, he would have turned it down. Now there was another problem which raised its ugly head. It was one thing changing the bodies of one man with another but they had run out of prisoners serving life sentences . Subsequently, the Government had turned its attention to women prisoners who had been given long terms of incarceration for their crimes. It had been one thing to disrobe men who remained naked while the exchange process took place but seeing women in the flesh was something quite different especially when all the scientists and the guards were regular males. The situation was a highly untenable but there were no women scientists or female guards to deal with the problem but, in view of the shortage of donors, the Government insisted that it should take place.

  When the women first arrived, their attitude was completely different t the male prisoners who had undergone the transfer. Whereas their counterparts had come in chains, groaning, moaning, swearing profusely, the resented belligerently being taken to a place unknown to them for a purpose which had been kept as a secret. It was very much different with the women, Naturally they were equally disgruntled at their treatment but they know what was going to happen to them through the grapevine. They had faced the inevitable in a Court of Law and were sentenced to incarceration for the rest of their lives for their heinous crimes so this was simply regarded as a day trip away from the horrid Holloway Prison.

  When they emerged from the prison van, they entered the building and stared at the cubicles and started up with amusing banter which clouded their true feelings.

  ‘I wish they would clone a man and leave my body as it is,’ uttered on of the women prisoners. ‘Then we could make hay all day and night in my cell. I’m a long-staying lover you know. In a week, I’d wear myself to a frazzle.’

  ‘What about the man?’ asked her colleague.

  ‘Hm,’ came the reply. ‘He wouldn’t have a willy left after two days. It’d be worn out.’

  They burst into laughter at the comment as though their dilemma was unreal.

  ‘I wish they’d swap me with a man,’ intervened another prisoner. ‘I’d masturbate all day long and pee standing up. That would be nice.’

  This brought another bout of laughter as they sat waiting for the scientists to start the procedure.

  ‘Wouldn’
t it be something if we swapped with a man,’ ventured the first prisoner thoughtfully. ‘I mean the medical profession would be thrown to the dogs when they discovered that, as a man, I needed a hysterectomy.’

  ‘Or a woman who’s going down with prostate cancer,’ added another.

  The comment failed to amuse the other women prisoners and a torrent of foul language echoed through the room as their mood changed dramatically. It was only when the order came for them to undress that the trouble started. The women seemed unfazed at having to show their naked bodies to the scientists and guards. In fact some of them relished doing so to tease them because they knew what was in the minds of the men.

  The Governor observed that some of the guards became emotionally disturbed when they observed the bodies of some of the attractive naked prisoners. They ogled at their blossoming breasts and cute slender buttocks, drooling at them with lust in their minds, Some of the men were even moved to touch the women indecently, fondling their nipples and moving their hands between the female’s legs. One guard failed to control himself and rather than attack one of the beautiful naked women in a case of brutal rape, went to a corner of the room and masturbated to relieve himself. Without doubt, had any of the men been alone with the women prisoners, chaos would have reigned as many of them would have been raped. Such feelings occurred more often after they women were injected with the hypodermic needle, incapable of understanding what was happening to them, let alone being able to resist the unwanted attention.

  The Governor was forced to reproach one guard who handled a woman prisoner extremely unwarrantedly as he placed her into the cubicle. The guard grinned broadly as he stroke her nipples, running his hands over her breasts roughly before placing one hand between her legs, rubbing his finger around her clitoris. At the same time, he moved his body in a mock exercise of copulation, shouting out to the others to look at him as though it was a game. The pitiful woman prisoner, under heavy sedation, was in no condition to resist even if she knew anything about the assault. The problem that existed was the fact that some of the women were extremely attractive each one of them wasting away due to their heinous crimes but their nudity enhanced the situation among the men. As a result, the scientists and the guards lusted after them when they saw them parading in the nude, especially after they were injected with the serum which mean that they could not resist.

  Sky Summers was placed in a cell with another woman prisoner by the name of Kate Holby. The woman had murdered her lover after he had led her on, eventually deceiving her completely. She had been madly in love with the man who had promised to leave his wife and marry her, after he had obtained a divorce. This was far from the truth because after nine months he grew tired of the affair and dumped her without any conscience whatsoever. She rang him at his home demanding to see him one more time and., like a fool, he agreed to do so. She welcomed him with a long sharp kitchen knife, stabbing him seventeen times with an uncontrollable rage. Afterwards, she realised her folly in that while ending the life of her deceitful lover she had ruined her chances of a romantic future with someone else, ending up for life in Holloway prison. ‘

  She stared at Sky with a suspicious expression on her face. ‘I haven’t seen you before,’ she remarked . ‘Where have you been hiding yourself?’

  ‘Here and there,’ responded the television presenter not wishing to reveal her identity.

  ‘Hold on!’ continued Holy. ‘I’ve seen you on television, haven’t I! You’re the newsreader!’

  ‘Sshhhsh!’ returned Sky, putting her finger to her lips to silence the woman. ‘Okay... you got me! I’m here to find out what the hell’s going on.’

  ‘That makes two of us,’ came the response. ‘They woke us up at one-thirty to bring us all the way to this Godforsaken place but they don’t tell us the reason.’

  ‘Does old people going after young people’s job mean anything to you?

  ‘Old people?’ questioned Holby somewhat puzzled. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Old people... appearing all over the place with new vigour.. They’re undertaking roles in business and politics when they should be sitting at home being cared for. I think this move today has something to do with it.’

  ‘I don’t understand what you’re getting at,’ exclaimed the woman prisoner blankly.

  At that moment, a guard approached the cell. ‘Okay you two!’ he told them sternly, ‘come with me!’

  They rose from the beds and followed him outside to the point where the marquee had been installed. He stopped suddenly to look at Sky. ‘You wait outside!’ he ordered sharply. ‘I’ll tell you when it your turn!’

  The television presenter waited outside the marquee watched closely by another guard. She removed the tiny camera from her pocket surreptitiously as she had a very slight view of the cubicles in the gap afforded to her by the open flat of the marquee. Swiftly, she began taking photographs of the scientist injecting Holby with the hypodermic needle. It was practically impossible for her to see anything else because the guard closed the flap. Instinctively, she pulled the tape-recorder from her other pocket and threw it with full force to the other side of the area. The clattering sound it made as it struck the floor caused the guard to look in that direction and he moved towards it to find the reason for the noise. During that short period, Sky pushed open the flap of the marquee to photograph the two women in the cubicles as the current was turned on and a blazing light lit up inside the marquee. Without a moment’s delay, she fled the area as fast as her legs would carry her returning to her cell to examine the pictures she had just taken. So that was it! They were exchanging the bodies of the prisoners with other people of eminence. They had chosen a number of people in various walks of life to assume younger bodies to enable them to live much longer in life. At least that was her theory! She had no idea as to what happened to their brains or whether their minds were transferred in the process but it was unlikely that would happen. The authorities had made certain that the heads remained the same; it was the bodies that were changed. How could such a thing remain a secret for very long... and who in the Government authorised such a horrendous plan? It had now become clear to her that the useful people in civilisation where being given an opportunity to live much longer at the expense of prisoners in the jails. She recalled having passed two women on stretches who seemingly appeared to be dead. Was the stress of the exchange operation too much for some of them? She knew that it was essential to provide figures of those who died in the process. If the matter came to light, as it would do in due course, there would be a full investigation by the European Court of Human Rights with regard to the prisoners. Heads would certainly roll and people would be made to account for what had happened. Did the Government of the day actually believe that they could keep something like this under wraps? If they thought so, they were truly deluding themselves. Someone, somewhere, would blow the whistle and then it would be over. Surely those in authority recognised that the truth would have to come to light eventually.

  Her main aim now was to escape from the prison which was to prove to be no mean task. The gates were barred, thee were guards everywhere yet there had to be a way out and she would find it. She discarded the uniform and made her way out of the cell to the area where the marquee had been installed. In an attempt to hide from the guards, she skirted the area trying to hide in the shadows that existed in the very large room. Shortly, she observed George Griffin, her mole, drinking a cup of coffee with one of the guards who was facing the other direction. She waved her arm to draw the driver’s attention. He was wearing a yellow cap matched with a large yellow jacket which had a zip all the way up the front. Griffin made an excuse to the guard and then went over to her.

  ‘What do you want?’ he whispered softly, agitated at having to speak to her in such a dangerous situation.

  ‘Let me borrow your cap and jacket,’ she told him flatly.

 
‘I can’t do that!’ he uttered in disbelief. ‘That’ll have my guts for garters!’

  ‘Of course they won’t!’ spat Sky Summers curtly. ‘There’s fifty prisoners here and they’ll all be accounted for. All you have to do is to say that you’ve mislaid your cap and jacket.’

  His face twisted into a wry grin then, reluctantly, he removed the items and handed them to her.

  ‘Thank you!’ she said gratefully, placing the cap on her head, stuffing her hair inside it. ‘I’ll be in touch!’

  She put on the jacket, zipping it up at the front, then without hesitation she moved towards the front gate and nodded to the warder to open it. He was playing cards with two of his colleagues at the time and neglectfully glanced briefly at the yellow jacket before opening the gate with his key and allowing her to pass. Within sixty seconds, Sky had left the prison undetected. They would be searching for her, especially when they found the uniform in the cell, but all the prisoners would be accounted for in due course so no one would concern themselves too much about her presence there. At least she had done it! She had discovered the Government’s secret and had taken photographs to prove it. It took her an hour to find her way back to the bridge. She had parked her car close by and she climbed inside and started the engine. It was all going perfectly... too perfectly! Murphy’s Law, which states that if anything can go wrong it will go wrong, was about to kick in. Her car had been seen standing for a long time unattended by a roaming police car and it came towards her with its sirens blaring for they were suspicious and had a number of questions they would like answered. The television reporter was not prepared to help them in their enquiries and she decided to outrun them if she could speeding down the road ahead of her at a tremendous rate.. They chased her for almost five miles until she turned in to a narrow lane that led to a farm house and drove up the winding lane towards it. Fortunately for her, the police car drove on without noticing the deception, failing to notice the narrow lane and therefore discontinued the chase when they couldn’t find her.