by Nana Prah
“She’s not well, Atherby. I think she’s going through detox.”
His arrogant mouth curved. “The report said it took three male cops to cuff her, and one of them had to go to the hospital for stitches.”
“You just proved my point.” She struggled to maintain her patience. “Harris needs to go to the infirmary and then be locked up in a single. She’s going to blow any second.”
Wouldn’t it be nice to scramble over the desk and uppercut him in the gut, wiping away his damn smile?
Even though she’d be able to do it before he knew what happened, she’d end up in solitary for an unknown amount of time and that would be bad for the mission. She needed to be around for Rhee Hana’s arrival.
Atherby scratched behind his ear with a pen. “Did she tell you she’s sick?”
“She didn’t have to. I can see it. Her eyes are glazed over, she’s sweating, mumbling about the devil being in the room and making her do things. Plus she’s rocking.”
She expected him to tell her they’d send her to the infirmary right away, or at least go check her out himself.
He shrugged. “If she didn’t say she’s sick, then she stays.”
“What?”
He avoided her eyes by reaching under the desk for something. “She stays.”
“Can you at least assess her?”
“Nope.”
“Come on, Atherby,” Gladys said. “Why are you being hard about this? You could at least take a look at her.”
Gladys’s support meant a lot. Sarita took a deep breath and ground her teeth. Atherby had to be the biggest prick she’d ever met. After years of dealing with temperamental diplomats, Sarita had learned how to control her temper, but this man made keeping her hands off his throat difficult.
“Don’t bother asking Donnelly. She’ll agree with me,” he gloated, before proceeding to ignore them by walking away.
Bastardo. Her blood boiled. She stalked over to Donnelly and told her the situation. A look of concern passed over the guard’s features, but when her gaze darted over to Atherby, Sarita knew she wouldn’t help.
“Whatever Atherby says, goes,” Donnelly said.
As Sarita stormed past the desk to the phones, she heard Atherby’s arrogant laughter and taunting voice. “Told you not to ask her.”
Her jaw clenched so hard she feared breaking a tooth if she didn’t relax. When her turn came to use the phone, she dialed the only number she was allowed to call. Sarita dove straight to the point when Corinth answered the line “I have a roommate who I’m pretty sure is detoxing. Or out of her mind. Perhaps both.”
Corinth sighed. “I heard. There’s nothing I can do. The place is packed.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sarita slapped her hand against the wall. “What if the bulb comes on? What then?”
“It’s on the way, so there are no worries about tonight. They’re deporting a few people out tomorrow, but until then you’re stuck.”
Sarita wiped her face with her free hand. “This bites.”
“It wasn’t part of the plan.”
“The bad stuff never is.”
“You know how to handle yourself so I’m not worried.”
Lowering her voice, Sarita said, “I don’t want to have to kill her, and if she becomes aggressive, I don’t know what will happen.”
“Stay in control.”
Control had left her life when she accepted this assignment. Her emotions for Carter were going berserk. Never having found herself in such a situation, she lacked the appropriate skills to rein them in. That exasperated her more than having to sleep in the same room with a six-foot, crazed-out woman.
“Let’s look on the bright side,” Corinth urged. “At least, you can protect yourself. She could be housed with a defenseless woman.”
“Yeah, bright side,” Sarita mumbled.
“Goodnight, Sarita.”
Sarita hung up the phone gently instead of slamming it against the wall multiple times. She’d have to wait out the night. Hana would arrive soon and, if luck were any kind of friend, Sarita would spend a couple more nights here while the girl got the crap scared out of her, and then they’d both be out of here. Sarita would head off to her comfortable bed in her cute, lonely apartment. Hana would go to South Korea, where she would be a good girl for the rest of her life.
***
Sarita trudged back to the room when Donnelly announced the end of evening rec. Tonight, she’d mimic the other girls and put her mattress on the window ledge. Although sleeping there would be cold, cramped, and uncomfortable, at least she wouldn’t be stuck hanging five feet in the air if attacked.
Sleep would probably elude her anyway.
The loud whistling snores, disturbing what had once been a quiet room, told her Lucinda was zonked out. Even in her sleep, restlessness seemed to claim her.
Sarita sighed, set up her mattress, and read for a couple of hours. When her eyes got tired, she gazed out the window and let her mind wander.
The next thing she knew, the giant sprang up out of the bed, shouting, “You have to die!”
Oh, shit! Sarita jumped to the ground, holding her hands out in front of her in a defensive posture.
Lucinda stood too close for comfort, her pupils dilated so her eyes appeared black.
Instead of yelling, Sarita ensured that her voice was soft but firm. “It’s okay, Lucinda. It’s just me, Sarita. You’re cellmate at the jail. You’re fine.”
Not a single trace of recognition flashed across Lucinda’s features. Sarita circled toward the door, not that it would help because the damn thing was locked. “Remember, I gave you some chocolate? Calm down and you can have some more.”
Lucinda rushed forward her with both hands outstretched, reaching for Sarita’s throat. “You the devil! You the devil!”
Sarita stepped to the right with a circle block to deflect Lucinda’s hands but refrained from striking the woman. She had no desire to hurt her.
“Atherby! Donnelly! Help!” she shouted.
Lucinda swung. Sarita lunged backward, raising her arm in a high block. She winced at the vibration of bone on bone.
A quick open hand to the throat rendered her opponent stunned and breathless. Sarita reached out with both hands, placing her thumbs at the base of Lucinda’s jaw, and applied pressure. Within seconds, Lucinda lost consciousness. Allowing the heavy body to slump against her own, she guided the large woman to the floor, instead of letting her drop. She wouldn’t be out for long.
Sarita banged on the door. She couldn’t see anyone except for the faces in the windows across from hers. “Atherby! Donnelly! Where the fuck are you?”
Atherby reached the door with his uniform in disarray. “What Cerez?” He had the nerve to sound annoyed.
“Son of a bitch.” She didn’t care if he heard the insult. She pointed to the floor where Lucinda lay groaning. “She attacked me. I need to get out of here before she wakes up.”
“She attacked you and she’s the one lying on the ground? Likely story, Cerez. When I open this door, I’m sending you to the hole.”
What kind of bullshit did he just spout? She’d rather go to solitary confinement, than be stuck in this room. She banged on the door, wishing it was his face. “It’s true.” She kept an eye on Lucinda who attempted to stand up.
“Uh-huh.” All of a sudden his eyes grew wide.
“The devil got to die.” The words rumbled through the room.
Sarita ducked just in time to avoid a punch to the head. To hell with not hurting the bitch.
As Sarita shifted past the zombie, her forearm made solid connection with Lucinda’s ribs. A cracking sound rent the air.
Lucinda grunted where someone in their right mind would’ve screamed at having a rib broken. Sarita rotated and hooked the inside of her left foot onto the back of Lucinda’s ankle. Grabbing Lucinda’s uniform, Sarita swept her gigantic leg from beneath her.
Sarita let go, allowing the woman to fall hard, bouncin
g her head on the floor. Sarita ran out when the door sprang open. Bent over with hands on knees, she caught her breath while restraining herself from assaulting Atherby.
“Where’s Donnelly?” she spat out.
He ignored her, too busy calling for back up. Now the jackass decided to do his job. He didn’t seem the least bit disturbed about the whole situation. She could’ve sworn she saw him smile when she sprinted out of the cell.
Lucinda’s banging and yelling took Sarita’s attention away from Atherby’s strange reaction to one of his inmates almost being killed.
She moved over to the couch. If they’d put Lucinda with any of these other women, the inmate would’ve been dead. Maybe not Ursula--that chick was tough--but then again, she wasn’t in for deportation.
A few minutes later, four guards burst onto the unit with Donnelly in the mix. Atherby gave them the run down. They decided to keep Lucinda in the room until the morning, hoping she would’ve calmed down by then.
As much as it galled her, Sarita couldn’t have the woman in pain all night. “I broke her rib. She’ll need to see a doctor.”
Atherby snorted. “I don’t think so. Nobody with a broken rib would be acting like that. The pain would have taken her down.”
“Unless--”
Atherby cut her off. “You’re going with Williams.”
“Where?”
“To solitary.”
Sarita raised an eyebrow. “What? Why am I going to the hole? I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Atherby leveled her with a stare. “You were fighting.”
She struggled not to shout. “It was fucking self-defense and you know it. She would’ve killed me.”
Williams shook his head. “You’re not going for punishment. The building is full and the only empty cells are in solitary.”
If she’d had the power to hurt Atherby with her eyes, he would have been rolling on the floor clutching a vital body part. “You should’ve moved her earlier when I told you she was going into detox.”
“She reported a detox and you let her stay in the same room?” Williams asked Atherby.
Atherby attempted to defend himself. “Where were we going to put her?”
“We’ll deal with this later,” Williams threatened, pointing to the door. “Let’s go, Cerez.”
The uneventful walk to the area inmates were threatened with as a punishment ended up being closer than she’d imagined.
Instead of a dark cave-like room kept in a deep, dank area of the institution, the hole ended up being a cell just like hers located on the second floor. Only it was smaller with a single bed instead of a bunk.
Considering her choice of being locked in the cell of death or sleeping alone in solitary, she’d settle for her new accommodations.
“Don’t forget me down here, Williams.” The sudden onset of fatigue dulled her voice.
He smiled, closing the door with a definitive click. The adrenaline from the fight had burned out and she fell onto the bed exhausted.
She sent up a quick prayer of thanksgiving. What a wretched day. The optimist in her hoped tomorrow would be better. The agent in her doubted it.
Chapter 8
The sound of someone calling her name made Sarita turn away from the warm body cuddled next to her.
“Let’s go, Cerez.”
Where? She belonged in Carter’s arms and that’s where she’d stay.
“Wake up or I’ll leave you in here for the rest of the day.” The gruff voice brought her to a state of alertness and her eyes opened, revealing a hazy scowling, dark-haired guard watching her.
She stood and rubbed her eyes before stretching her stiff muscles. She’d had the best night’s sleep since being locked up.
“I don’t have all day.”
“What’s the hurry, Greene? In a rush to get me back to the barbarian in my cell?”
“She’s gone. They sent her to the infirmary. I heard it took five guards to hold her down so she could be sedated.” He grimaced. “She kicked Atherby in the nuts.”
Not even a smidgen of sympathy surfaced for the man after what had happened last night. “Could have avoided some crushed balls if he’d done his job in the first place.”
“I also heard you took her down yourself. You must have major skills, Cerez.”
She shrugged. Obtaining black belts in three very different martial arts styles had been a tortuous kind of fun. Training twice a week kept up her skills. She rarely got to use them, even as an agent. Dignitaries didn’t tend to find themselves in a lot of trouble.
She worked out hard. Always ready if her charges needed her fighting skills while under her protection.
After the door of her unit opened, Sarita walked onto the floor to a round of cheers.
Natasha’s voice boomed louder than the rest. “That’s one ass-kicking bitch.”
“Quiet down and eat your breakfast,” Greene yelled. “If you’re done, go back to your cells.”
Sarita stood close enough to see the fine crinkles at the corners of Greene’s eyes indicating amusement. A stab of disappointment pierced through her when she didn’t see Carter. Picking up a tray filled with oatmeal, a boiled egg, and two slices of bread, she sat at a table with her Indian friend Berlinda, Latrice, and Jessica. Spoiled Jessica from Switzerland complained all the time about being deported to her peace-stable, developed country. It perturbed Sarita.
The blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman would be returning to the middle-class home she’d grown up in. Others would land themselves in the middle of abject poverty.
Berlinda jiggled her head with wide eyes. “Damn, Sarita. It took five guards to take her out, and I heard you knocked her down by yourself.”
“Luck,” Sarita replied, trying to downplay the situation, and kept eating.
“You’re Jackie Chan with breasts.” Latrice rarely spoke unless asked a direct question. Her heavily accented voice held a note of awe. She came from Trinidad and had been in the country for one year before getting caught when she tried to apply for a job.
After breakfast, Sarita stopped short at the door to her cell. Bed sheets and pillows were strewn all around. The place reeked from the vomit pooled in one corner of the room, which she hoped was Atherby’s after he got kicked in the groin. She smiled at the thought even though the smell made her retch.
She backed away and headed to the guard’s desk. “Jeez, Greene, you guys couldn’t clean up the room? It smells awful.”
He looked at her. “You know where the mop is. Get to it.”
She mumbled a few choice cuss words as she walked to the utility area.
Struggling not to vomit, she cleaned up the mess. After rinsing the mop three times, she put it away. When she went back to her room, she pinched her nose with her forefinger and thumb. Disturbing the putrid puddle must have released its toxic stench into the larger room. Both Greene and Danson grimaced.
At six-foot-five and build like an NFL linebacker, with the face of a dark-haired, dark-eyed model, Danson, backed away when she walked to the desk, as if she wore the scent as her perfume. “Close the door, Cerez, you want to kill us? You can stay out here.”
She thanked whoever vomited for the chance to be outside the cell. Every once in a while, the guards would let an inmate stay out while everyone else remained locked up. Usually Gladys had the pleasure since she acted as the inmate ‘warden’ of the unit.
Holding her breath, Sarita grabbed her book before closing the door to the fowl-smelling room.
She spent the morning intermittently reading and watching TV.
When the doors opened for morning rec, her friends gathered around for the full story. Sarita told it with as little drama as possible.
“Disperse or you will return to your cells,” Greene yelled.
One of the many rules of the prison was that no more than three people could gather at one time, but the guards tended to give the ICE inmates free reign in this regard for short periods of time. They probably had no worries about th
em hatching an escape plan.
Everyone left, leaving Sarita at the table with Marianna and Berlinda, chatting until it was time to go into the rooms. On her way to the cell, she spun around when Greene told her she could stay out for the rest of the day. The guards weren’t known for their kind dispositions.
“Why?”
“Captain ordered it,” Danson answered. “You have received a pass to stay out of your room for twenty four hours.”
Her nostrils flared. “Why?”
Greene crossed massive arms over his chest. “I don’t ask questions when the head of the prison gives an order. I follow them.”
Her special treatment had nothing to do with the disgusting smell of vomit in her room. Atherby had done wrong and the prison feared her reaction. On the other hand, Corinth could’ve gotten a hold of someone and squeezed their balls. Either way, freedom from living as a punished teenager banished to her room put a smile on her face.
“Did the captain by any chance extend the twenty four hour pass to outside the prison gates?”
Greene didn’t bother to look up from his clipboard. “No.”
She picked up a packet of M & M’s candy from her cell, hoping the smell hadn’t permeated into her canteen bag, and then lounged on the couch. “Do I have authority to change the channel?”
Danson bought over the remote control. “Knock yourself out.”
She flipped through the stations, settling on the news. She’d have to call Corinth soon to give a report. She should have done it during the morning break, but she’d felt ornery. More than likely, her boss already knew the torment she’d suffered that night. Corinth’s arms had a long reach.
Afternoon rec snuck up on her after lunch and, once again, she found herself surrounded. She braced herself for the questions.
Otoo was the first to ask, “Why did they let you stay out here?”
Sarita looked at the woman from Nigeria who’d been reported by her husband when she refused to pack up and return to her country at the time he went back.