DISCLAIMER: Quite simple: I do not own them.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The timeline for this story is mid season 3.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Angels In Chains Again
By Tashe Dangerous Eyes
The customized, criminal proof white van approached the main gate of the Los Angeles Women's Correctional Institution with only two passengers. The beautiful women immediately caught the attention of the guards at the entrance. It was a rare sight to see such sophisticated looking women come through those gates. It was a shame they were there just to become part of the less than sophisticated population. The only other women the guards saw that looked so fine were the lady lawyers of some of the inmates.
The driver of the van saw their blatant contemplations and understood completely. He had as well taken his time admiring the view. "Like what you see, Colton?" The wide grin on the guard's face was his only answer. Colton, the guard in charge of registering the comings and goings of every vehicle that came through the main gate was having a hard time letting go of the sight in front of him. The women were young and beautiful. One of them had long raven hair and porcelain like features that looked soft to the touch. The other was a blonde, just as beautiful, but she had an innocence about her that contrasted the defiant attitude of the brunette. "Fresh meat. Here's the paperwork." Colton finally tore his eyes from the women to pay attention to the driver and took the file that he was handing to him.
"You'll forgive me, won't you, Stevenson? It is not everyday you get to see such fine ladies come through here, and you know that once they get in there two things are going to happen. One, I'll never see them again, but just as well because, two, they stop looking like that so fast it is almost a sacrilege against nature." He shook his head as if he was lamenting the waste of such angelic beauty already.
"I know what you mean, brother. At least I got to enjoy their company for a while. They don't seem too fond of the admiration though." Stevenson looked back at them and winked at the blonde for the fourth time since she boarded the van.
"Let's see who we have here. Jessica Lewis and Elizabeth Lewis." The guard snapped his head up and looked at the two women. "Sisters?" He asked the driver without looking at him.
"Nope, cousins. Apparently they are very good at committing fraud, but not so much at covering their tracks."
"Well, I guess you do belong in here, ladies, your beauty not withstanding." Colton spoke directly to them but their expressions remained neutral the entire time. He looked back at Stevenson and signaled him with his index finger to wait a moment. Entering the small guard station he dialed a number and spoke on the phone for a couple of minutes. Coming back, he handed the driver the paperwork and ordered the gate open. "Go right in, Stevenson. They are waiting for them." Colton looked at the women one final time and shook his head again. He looked so pained that it was difficult to tell if he was sorry for them or for the likes of him.
As the van neared the main building Kris' hands started to shake a little. Now that she was on the other side of freedom, even if it was a false incarceration, it hit her like a wave how serious their situation was. She knew it was going to take all of her strength to keep her calm and all of her concentration not to miss the details that would help solve the case. She just hoped her colleagues and her were as up to the task as they looked. Kris closed her eyes and tried taking some deep breaths to calm her nerves, but it was just not working. She felt her right hand being squeezed and she opened her eyes to see Kelly smiling at her warmly. "Everything is going to be fine." It was a whisper delivered with conviction and Kris couldn't help believing her.
"If Jill can do it then so can I." Kris responded also in a hush since they were not permitted to talk, but she wished they could.
The night before had ended quite abruptly with Kelly leaving Sabrina's apartment in haste. She realized that the time she tried to give them had not been nearly long enough. The conflict between her friends was more complicated than she first suspected, even though she still wasn't sure what the conflict was about exactly. She only knew that she wanted to help them, but for that she needed one of them to trust her, to confide in her. Kelly and Sabrina had been all business from the moment she arrived and until Kelly left. That morning the story was practically the same. Kris knew Kelly and Sabrina were at odds with each other and she could only hope that she wouldn't become a casualty of the crossfire. However, Kelly's gesture gave her the sense that perhaps, if she waited for the right time, she would be able to give the support her friend so obviously needed. Kris also had the bad feeling that if they didn't find a solution to their problem they weren't going to be a team anymore. Stealing a sideways look at Kelly, Kris thought with determination. Not if I can help it.
It never crosses a woman's mind to trade her clothes, fancy or otherwise, for a two piece prison attire. Yet, here they were doing exactly that. A towel the only barrier between them and the prying eyes of the female guards who looked a little too interested in their state of nakedness. In particular a tall redhead who for some reason kept herself partially hidden in a shadowy corner and quiet as an oil painting. The unimaginative pieces of blue and darker shade of blue shirt and jeans were handed to them brusquely by the woman at the other side of the counter. "Go back there and change, quickly. I've already wasted enough time with you two." Kelly and Kris immediately moved to the designated area, thankful to have a little privacy while getting dressed. Unlike Kelly's first experience going through this, in this prison they were a little more organized in the process of preparing new inmates before letting them in with the rest of the prison's population. Meaning, they didn't expect them to wear their birthday suits in front of everybody, male or female. Still, the rudeness and self-righteous attitude of the guards were as present as ever.
"Style-less clothes, manner-less guards " Kris whispered to Kelly while trying to get dressed as soon as she could.
"Dear Jessica, everything is prison is less." Kelly used Kris' fake name just in case they were caught talking.
"Are you about done in there?" The guard made to go get them but the two detectives came from behind the curtain ready to go. "About time. Follow me." They did as told and followed the guard while another followed them.
Finally, the tall redhead came out of the corner and stared the way the others had gone for a little while. They have no spirit. She thought as she retreated from the room.
"Home sweet home, birdies." The female guard made a courtesy gesture, an imitation of a polite invitation to enter someone's home. It was clearly a mockery to have some fun at the expense of the prisoner's situation.
"You just have to do that every time, don't you, Cain?" The other guard said while shoving the Angels inside their cell, not really amused by the travesty anymore.
"You have a problem with that, dear Randy?" Without responding, Randy just locked the cell. Cain ignored her and turned her attention to Kris and Kelly. "Now, listen you two. Today you get a free pass, because the only thing you'll be doing all day is getting to know your new home for the next few years. That's until dinner time and then is right back here. Tomorrow however, you'll be out there with the rest of the birdies and you will also be assigned your duties." Kelly and Kris looked at each other and saw that they were both about to groan. On top of everything they needed to do they were also expected to work!
Seeing their expressions, Cain spread her arms and with the fakest smile she could muster said, "Welcome to the Los Angeles Women's Correctional Institution." once again mocking them. With the same breath, she looked at them disgusted and walked away.
"Good luck." The other guard said to them once her partner was out of ear shot. Kelly took note of the gesture thinking that perhaps this guard could be an ally down the road. The nametag on her shirt read 'Miranda', but Kelly seriously doubted that Cain nicknaming her Randy was her way of being endearing, if at all it was condescending. Kelly nodded her thanks and Miranda left. She then walked towards the bunk beds and sat down.
"I must say, that was not fun at all." Kris said sitting next to Kelly on the lower bunk.
"It's not meant to be fun." I see the foul mood continues. Kris went through the whole process they just experienced in her mind. It had made her feel very uncomfortable and it irked her to know that that had been the easy part. She was just glad she didn't have to go through it alone. No such luck for the third member of their team.
"At least I had you there. Bree is gonna be all alone." Kelly's expression softened a little, but for too short a moment.
"She'll be fine. It would surprise you how hard she can make herself sometimes." Kris knew that Kelly's words were far from demonstrating faith in their colleague; that she was referring to something entirely different. She also knew that they were true nonetheless. Deciding to give Kelly sometime with her thoughts she climbed to the upper bunk to rest for a while. A deep sigh escaped the other Angel; Kris thought that maybe Kelly was regretting her own words. But no apologies were offered and no retractions stated. Kelly just kept silent, consumed in a state of unrest that was all encompassing. Even hard people break apart sometimes, my friend. I just hope you don't become the hammer.
The silence of the underground parking lot was a respite from the racket made by the patrons of the fancy restaurant he just exited. The trek downtown was tedious, the restaurant was not as exclusive as he would've liked, but the food was delicious and very expensive. The value of a man is measured by the depth of his pockets. That was his motto, and he had a reputation to uphold. Right now, his pockets were getting even deeper. There was so much he still wanted, so much more wealth to be made. But the beauty of it was that he didn't have to do much, save feed the scum of the earth with the leftovers of his table. In turn, they would do anything for him. Hunger was a beautiful thing indeed. "Mr. Gallagher." The name was said with a charisma honed with years of sucking up to the undeserving.
"What the hell are you doing here? I told you, no personal contact. I can't risk being seen with you." The District Attorney protested all the while being approached by the man, who was exasperatedly unfazed by his anger.
The man in question was a Latino who looked to be in his mid-thirties. He was clean shaven, and had on a suit that looked as if it had been obtained from a grave yard. He also looked like a walking jewelry store, and appeared to have no clue when to stop applying his cheap cologne. All in all, he was in total contrast of the man he was addressing. Gallagher was a tall, tailored fit, proud Caucasian, who didn't even know the meaning of the phrase 'hand downs'. "I suggest then that you include me in your circle of friends, because the demands are many and the pressure is mounting, and guess who gets caught up in the middle of it all while you enjoy your air conditioner in that fancy office of yours." His politeness was deceiving, barely concealing an undercurrent of contempt.
"All right, fine. What is it?" Gallagher motioned for the other man to follow him to a dark corner still preoccupied with not being seen with him.
"The Man is getting quite impatient. He wants what he was promised, today."
"Are you mad? Didn't you explain to him the set back we had?"
"That I did, but he doesn't seem to be as understanding as I am." He arranged his cheap necktie to make his point, oblivious to the fact that no amount of clothing or jewelry would ever elevate him.
"If I were you I would endeavor in making him an understanding fellow, or I'll turn this whole thing from a profitable business to a permanent residence in the worst rat hole of a jail I can find, Tony." The District Attorney gave free reign to his dislike for the other man.
"You are a predictable man, Mr. Gallagher. We already knew you were gonna say that. Let me assure you nobody wants that. On the other hand, we would like, as an act of good fate, to have a new date for the delivery of the merchandise, at which point, should we not receive it, all bets would be off. If said sad point is ever reached, Mr. Gallagher, while you seek this rat hole, we might also find ourselves discovering some incriminating evidence that would surely make you our bunkmate." Tony showed all his front teeth while pretending to smile, like a wolf taunting his cornered pray.
"We are front stabbers you and I. But the idea is to keep each other alive. Three days from now, at midnight, same location. And do me a favor; use the phone number I gave you. No more meetings in person. You think you can manage that?" Gallagher said still trying to sound confrontational, but he was not fooling anybody.
"I can, but this little meeting was prompted by your silence. If you don't disappear on us there's no need for us to come looking for you, now is there?" Gallagher said nothing. He just left not having anything else to say and looking forward to putting a great amount of distance between them. "Have a nice day now, you hear. It's always a pleasure." The hypocrite goodbye fell on deaf ears.
Tony went to his own car and left the underground parking lot with something he did not arrive with; a tail. From a discrete distance the dark company car copied the route of the new player with a skilled driver behind the wheel. John Bosley.
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