Fake Fan Fiction ❯ Prison Rose ❯ Chapter 2

Prison Rose

 

by Mori Ryoshi

 

 

 

Disclaimer: I do not own FAKE or Sanami Matoh's wonderful characters.

 

Summary: A murder investigation requires an undercover assignment in New York City's Sing Sing prison. The job requirements include: knowledge of weapons, blond or light brown hair, and a protective personality. Ryo would be perfect; but, he arrested the suspect in the first place. Enter Commissioner Berkley Rose, tall, blond, violet eyes, and perfect for playing the part.

 

Dee's warning bells are set off when the events begin to unfold. Will his predictions be correct or is his internal radar off this time? How will a cop deal with one of the most difficult situations a person can be placed in? And, what the heck is wrong with that guard?

 

 

Rating: NC-17, adults only

Warnings: Yaoi, violence, racial hatred, mature themes, loving sex, and rape (chapters will be clearly marked)

 

Pairings: Ryo/Dee, J.J./Drake, Berkley/?, OC's/OC's

Timeframe: The present

Series: None, standalone story

 

 

Prison Rose

 

 

Chapter 2

 

“I can't believe he fell asleep, Ryo,” Dee said softly. It was shortly before six am and they'd gone to check on the commissioner. “I hate to wake him.”

 

“Listen to you, Dee. Someone might think you don't hate the commissioner,” Ryo gently ribbed his partner.

 

“I don't hate him. Plus, I have a bad feeling about this.” Dee wore a worried expression. He sighed as Berkley shifted in his sleep, moving forward in his chair and shifting his head into a more comfortable position on his folded arms. “I've got plenty of stuff he needs to go through before we leave. With only two hours before we leave and the two hours of transport time, I don't know if we can get through everything.”

 

“What did you find?” Ryo asked as he nodded toward their office, leaving the conference room, closing the door gently behind them.

 

“I'm hoping a way to gain Gideon's trust. I know people change over time; but, when Gideon was a child, he exhibited certain traits that should have identified him as possible trouble. He was violent toward animals, especially baby animals. Also, he was fascinated by fire and was caught numerous times setting fires in one of the city parks near his home. Each time, the fire was extinguished and he was taken home with nothing more than an admonishment not to do it again.”

 

“Two prongs of the psychopath triad,” Ryo observed.

 

“I'm still looking for indications of long-term bedwetting,” Dee said with a chuckle. “But, he was never given psychological treatment for his behavior. Even when the animal abuse extended to violence toward people, he was only given detention by the schools and eventually a brief period in juvenile detention through his conviction for simple assault.”

 

“There's no evidence that early intervention stops the progression of psychopathic behavior, Dee. Even with counseling, medication, and other treatment, he might have progressed to this point. With his apparent background in a family filled and driven by hatred, combined with everything else, he probably didn't have a chance at a normal life.” Ryo hated to think that anyone should be written off; but, he'd learned to accept that sometimes you couldn't do anything to stop evil things from happening. He frowned when he realized that he'd come full-circle. He was at the same place he'd been when he spent his first Christmas alone after the death of his parents. “At least where crime is concerned. I'm far ahead in every other way. I still don't understand why bad things happen; but, now I don't have to deal with it on my own.”

 

Dee closed their office door and hugged Ryo close. “I wish we could fix everything so nothing bad ever happened to anyone. We can't stop everything; all we can do is stop the evil from being repeated.”

 

“I know,” Ryo whispered as he held his partner close for several minutes. “This isn't going to be any easier. Even though we're on the outside, we're still going to need to be on guard every minute of every day until the commissioner has succeeded or we have to give up.”

 

“Yeah.” Dee pulled away and sat down in his chair. “Is there any way that Zale could set up a receiver for the hotel room? You know; where we could listen to Berkley's cell?”

 

“You mean from the same signal as the recording in the warden's office?” Dee nodded. “I don't think so. If there were a way to do that, I would think he would have used that option instead of the box in the warden's officer. There's always the chance, however remote, that someone could steal the recording unit, unplug it, or even damage it in some way. I'll ask him though.” He frowned as he took his chair. “I know the recorder would be more secure in the hotel room; why the concern?”

 

“I don't know.” Dee paused and looked at his desktop.

 

Ryo frowned even more. “Dee, you do know. What is it?”

 

With a deep sigh, Dee leaned back in his chair, stopping when he reached a dangerous angle. “I'm thinking about the possibility Rose could get into trouble and not use the panic alarm. If we could hear what was happening, we might be able to get to him before too much happened.”

 

“Maybe,” Ryo admitted. “It would be best if we could set up pick ups in his clothing. Then, we would be guaranteed to pick up everything he encountered.” He shook his head. “Listen to us, we're acting as if the commissioner was a rookie on his first undercover assignment. He's an experienced officer with long-term undercover experience; he's going to be fine. He knows his job and he's going to have the best back up. Would we be having this many doubts if the assignment involved him facilitating a drug buy? Or walking the streets as a desperate male hooker?”

 

Dee laughed softly at the thought of Berkley as a streetwalker. “I don't think he'd make it in vice today. Back when he was in vice, they didn't take as many chances as they do now.”

 

“I know. Think about it though; we're only worrying this much because he's going into prison.”

 

“He's going to be surrounded by the people we normally put behind bars. He's not going to have a weapon or any back up,” Dee said softly as he became serious. “It's different when you're handling an assignment on the streets or a bar. The guards aren't even going to know who he is; so, they won't be there to provide back up. If he's attacked, there's an equal chance that he'll be the one taken down by the guards. He's going to be viewed as a criminal.” He shook his head and stared at the ceiling. “Regardless of how I've talked about him in the past, Rose is a good cop. He doesn't deserve to be treated like a criminal and there's a very real chance he could get into a situation in there that we can't protect him from.”

 

Ryo nodded. “I know. We'll do the best we can. I'll see if Zale can set up a receiver, at least, for the hotel room. Maybe he can even wire some of the commissioner's clothing so we can record encounters from outside the cell.”

 

“Yeah,” Dee said softly as he sat up in his chair. “How much longer should we let him sleep?”

 

Ryo started to answer with a short sigh. “We should wake him now. You need to give him the information you came up with overnight and I need to brief him on the stuff he's going to be taking inside. He should review the procedures to follow if he does get into trouble. If he's got the firmly implanted in his brain so they're second nature, if he has to use them, he won't have to think about them, just react.” Ryo looked at his computer and noticed his message icon was blinking, indicating he had an urgent message. “What's this?” He asked the computer as he clicked the icon to open the message. “We're clear with the prison. The warden will handle the commissioner's intake; so, there won't be any trouble with the electronics. He mentions the metal detectors for the bags will be turned off to avoid the wires and other items setting them off. Last night, I e-mailed him that the commissioner would be wearing a medical alert bracelet. That will need to set off the detectors to avoid suspicion; but, everything else should be fine.” Ryo sent the two attachments to the printer before closing the message. “Have you ever handled a check in before?”

 

“Not at Sing Sing. When I was still at the academy, I assisted on a check in at Rikers.”

 

“The warden sent a checklist for the intake. Evidently they've made some changes recently.” Ryo grabbed the checklists from the printer. “There are specific items that must be separated from the prisoner's bags. Any pens, pencils, razors, basically anything containing metal or that has the potential of being used as a weapon, should be held in a separate case. Those items will be hand checked instead of scanned. Most of this is common sense.” He finished scanning the other page and a half. “Other things that must be separate are: food, cigarettes, playing cards, and books. Only his clothing can be in his main bag.”

 

“I'm glad we got those lists. It should make things easier.” Dee reached for the printouts when Ryo offered them. He quickly scanned the lists and mentally noted the points that had changed in the period since his academy days.”

 

“Well, we've procrastinated long enough; let's go wake up the commissioner.” Ryo stood as his voice trailed off.

 

Dee stood silently and the pair returned to the conference room. As Dee was turning the door handle, they heard a thump from inside. “Huh?” The pair quickly stepped into the room; just in time to see Berkley's head poke above the edge of the table.

 

The blonde commissioner's expression changed from confusion to embarrassment, then to disbelief in rapid succession. “I fell asleep,” He explained as his face crinkled in laughter.

 

“We know,” The two detectives said together.

 

“Do you need some help getting up?” Dee asked with a hint of sarcasm.

 

Berkley disappeared below the table again forcing the pair to walk to him. He looked up from his position on the floor. “Help! I've fallen and I can't get up!” Berkley said as he shook with laughter.

 

“I guess that's one way to handle stress,” Ryo said as he reached down to help the commissioner to his feet. The next moment he was sprawled half on the floor, half on the prone man who'd pulled him over.

 

“Rose!” Dee growled in a warning tone.

 

“Just a stress reliever,” Berkley said as he looked at Dee over Ryo's shoulder. “You're not going to punch me this time?” He said to Ryo.

 

“No,” Ryo said as he climbed to his knees. “That was embarrassing. A rookie would have been prepared to encounter that move.” He pulled Rose into a sitting position and then helped him to his feet. “But, if you try that again, I will hit you.” His threat was dampened by his smile.

 

Dee shook his head in disbelief. “I thought you'd given up on stealing Ryo away from me.”

 

His expression now serious, Berkley sat back down in his chair. “I have, Dee. I don't know why I did that. Maybe it was a stress reliever. Just to know that I was able to pull that kind of a move on Ryo, who's one of the best officers in the precinct at hand-to-hand combat, makes me more confident of my ability to defend myself.” He chuckled softly and looked at the table. “Or maybe it was a stress reliever. You've got to admit,” He said as he looked at Dee. “Feeling his body against yours is a fantastic stress reliever.”

 

With a quickly grab, Dee pulled Ryo against him and held him tight. “He's my stress reliever.”

 

Ryo shook his head as the two men glared at each other while wearing wide grins. “Okay, friendly banter aside, we do have to cover a few things before you leave.” He pulled away from Dee's grasp and sat in one of the chairs. “I'd like to go over the items you're taking inside before you work with Dee on the information he collected overnight. Right before you leave, maybe while you're changing into a prison jumpsuit, we should go over the procedures for various emergencies. You need to have them committed to memory in case you need them. In a worst case scenario, you don't want to freeze or worry about what you should do.”

 

Berkley nodded, his grin fading way. “I know. Also, I'm sorry, Ryo. Dee. That was inappropriate.”

 

“Don't worry about it,” Dee said gently. His concerned expression surprised the commissioner and gave him pause as to the reason the detective was wearing it. “I know it was stress relief; this time,” He added. “After Ryo handles the safety side of things, I've got some interesting stuff from last night's research. But, before you run off, how do you want me to get additional research to you? Only through J.J.?” He thought a moment. “Or can the warden get something to you? I can always print things up for you.”

 

“That's too risky. Anything you send in needs to be able to stand an inspection by Gideon. I'm certain he'll go through everything I bring into that cell.” Berkley glanced at Ryo. “The same goes for the wires and any other things I'm taking inside. I'm moving into his cell; so, it's his home turf. He's going to treat it as if it's his home, his property. I'm the intruder.”

 

Dee nodded. The commissioner's explanation made sense. “It would be easier if you were both moved into a new cell. You would be on more equal turf that way.”

 

“No,” The commissioner said with a shake of his head. “The more I think about it; I like it this way.” He saw the questioning looks both detectives were giving him. “Here's what I came up with this morning around three while I was fighting sleep. If I'm moved into his turf, he'll see me as the one coming to him. I'm the one who appears weak. I'll be the one without a home turf, the visitor. In sports, the visitor is almost always at a disadvantage, just as an invader is on a battlefield. It should give him a sense of control.”

 

“It might,” Dee agreed. “Plus, if a situation presents itself where you can help him out, he might see it as his subordinate protecting him.”

 

“That's what I'm hoping for.” Berkley nodded. “Since we already know he's been physically attacked, if I step in to protect him, it should provide the right conditions for opening a dialogue where I provide him physical protection for greater equality in the cell.” He still felt a hint of the previous day's terror rush through him; but, at some point through the night, he'd come to terms with it, at least in the short-term. He'd run several scenarios through his mind, searching for the most advantageous choices that would provide positive outcomes. The feeling of being prepared was enough to help him through his fear.

 

“What if protection doesn't work?” Ryo asked quietly.

 

“I'll have to come up with something else.” He looked at Dee. “Maybe your suggestion of cigarettes would work.”

 

“He doesn't smoke,” Dee said with a shrug. “It might still help with other inmates though.”

 

“Well, what are his addictions?”

 

“Chocolate, torturing animals, and setting fires,” Ryo answered.

 

“Two pieces of the psychopath triangle,” Berkley commented, reflecting Ryo's earlier observation.

 

“I'm still trying to find out if he was a long-time bed wetter.” Dee chuckled.

 

The commissioner grinned as an evil thought ran through his mind. “I'm supposed to be a diabetic, right?” The two detectives nodded. “Most diabetics keep chocolate and orange juice on hand, just in case their blood sugar drops too low. Maybe I should take in an extra large stash of chocolate.” He grinned. “It might be another trade.”

 

“Perfect,” Dee grinned. “While you guys are in the lab, I'll run down the street to the drugstore for a chocolate stash. What type of chocolate should I get? Regular milk chocolate? Dark chocolate?”

 

“Probably an assortment,” Berkley said with a lopsided grin. “Make sure you pick up dark chocolate for me.”

 

“Okay. See you in about twenty minutes?” He looked expectantly at Ryo.

 

“That should be enough,” Ryo agreed.

 

“Caio,” He said with a wave.

 

As the door swung shut behind him, Ryo gave Berkley a hard look. “Are you really all right, Sir?”

 

“I'm better than I was yesterday.” Berkley wasn't willing to lie and go beyond that. “I hope one of my scenarios presents itself. If I can keep some element of control, I'll be more apt to be able to achieve a positive outcome.”

 

“That's not what I meant.” Ryo paused and searched for a better choice of words. “Inside, you're not going to be able to maintain control. You're going to be at the mercy of some of the worst criminals in New York; not to mention, if you get into an altercation, there's a very real chance the guards will attack you just as they would any other prisoner.”

 

“I know. I'm going to do my best to avoid confrontation; even though my cover would indicate otherwise.”

 

“That's probably the best we can hope for. If you don't get involved in anything, you should be able to get out safely; but, at least one of your scenarios has you intervening on Gideon's behalf. How are you going to swing that if you're avoiding confrontation and what happens if a guard walks in on it?” Ryo was playing devil's advocate, trying to force the commissioner to think along alternative lines from his initial scenarios.

 

“I thought of that possibility this morning. If a guard walks in, I'll need to put the blame firmly on the shoulders of the other party. Perhaps going as far as saying, `I was protecting my cellmate, or friend, from an unprovoked attack.' Certain the guards are aware of the attacks on Gideon and would expect someone to eventually step in to protect him.”

 

“Have you thought of the possibility the guards are involved in facilitating the attacks?” Ryo leaned back in his chair and studied his boss's shifting facial expressions and body language.

 

“I hadn't thought about that,” Berkley admitted. “I guess I'll deal with it when the time comes.”

 

Ryo nodded. “Good, just be willing to think outside the box. Isn't that what you always tell me when you're helping on an investigation?”

 

“Yeah,” Berkley said with a grin. “I do tell you that.”

 

“Come on, we need to meet Zale at seven.”

 

“We're late,” Berkley said after glancing at his watch.

 

The pair hurried to the electronics lab and met Zale as he rushed in. “Sorry, there was an accident that made me late.” The nervous lab tech gave them an apologetic smile. “I've got everything together; just give me a minute to toss my stuff in the office.”

 

“Take your time, Zale,” Ryo said as the hyper man rushed into the lab.

 

“He's even more hyper than J.J.,” Berkley said with a chuckle.

 

“Yeah, he needs to cut back on the caffeine.”

 

Ryo led the way into the lab, heading directly to Zale's usual work area. Several tables flanked the corner, all piled high with mostly unidentifiable electronics parts, a few books, and a building build out of empty coffee Starbuck's cups. “I told you he needed to cut back on the caffeine.”

 

“That you did,” Berkley looked at the stack of cups with disbelief. “I thought Dee drank a lot of coffee; this guy makes Dee look like he hates the stuff.”

 

Zale walked back into the lab in time to see the detective and commissioner laughing. “What's so funny?” He asked when he reached his corner. “Never mind, it's not important. You need the goodies.” He reached under the furthest table and pulled out a pair of bags. “I set up two recording lines in the receiver. That way if one pick up fails, the second one will still work.” He indicated the longest seams of the larger of the two bags. “The wire is enclosed in these seems. The microphone is hidden under the end of the zipper and unless someone knows most of these bags are not double seamed, they won't be noticeable. You've already seen and played with the panic button. There's a second one in this,” He explained as he held up what looked like a plain clicker pen. He clicked the pen several times to show that it was a working pen. “I wouldn't recommend using it that much because there's not much ink in it. I had to cut off half the ink cartridge so I could put a long-range antenna in it. This alarm will sound here as well as at the hotel and prison. You just hold the clicker for twenty seconds, a slow twenty count,” He explained. His rapid-fire explanations were making the other men tired; but, they seemed to help energize the technician even more.

 

“Can the same alarm system be used in the bracelet?” Berkley asked, his words slower than usual in stark contrast to Zale's speedy delivery.

 

“Nope, there's not enough room for the extra stuff. The pen is more of an officer down call than anything else. I'd rather we not have the alarms going off in here since it seems to upset the natives.” He grinned as one of the other techs glared at him. “Yeah, you heard me sweetie. Go out to dinner with me!” That earned him another glare and a round of raspberries from several other techs. “Awe, I never get any respect. I never get a date either. Don't understand that, I'm a great catch.”

 

“Plenty of energy,” Berkley said in jest.

 

“Exactly!” The joke completely missed Zale. “Now, where was I? Oh, that's right, the pen. I don't mind if there's a massive emergency or if someone steals your medical alert or whatever; but, it'll cause an uproar in here. Okay, two other things,” He pulled over the second bag. “This little baby is if you need a weapon, actually two weapons. Inside here is a small pocket.” He opened the bag to show the other men what he was talking about. “You can't get to either of them immediately; but, there's a small plastic knife in the pocket. When you feel the bag, it just feels like the normal stabilizer used in the normal manufacturing process. It's really stiff when you get the bag and it doesn't loosen up for quite a while. The knife is made out of the same material used for the Glock and other plastic guns. It's strong and will cause serious damage. Only use it in an emergency,” He cautioned. “The other weapon is in the bottom seam and is a long wire you can use as a garrote or to restrain someone. I added it in case you needed a close-quarters weapon that could kill silently. I wouldn't recommend using it unless you want to be beaten by the guards who find your cellmate dead. They probably won't be willing to hear an explanation.”

 

“I'm not going in there to kill anyone,” Berkley said with a confused look on his face.

 

“I added it just in case. Like if he attacks you or something. Regardless, it's better to have it and not need it.”

 

“Than need it and not have it,” Ryo finished. “Thanks Zale. Since you can make the alarm range reach the precinct, can you do something similar with the audio receiver?”

 

“What did you want?”

 

“Something that could pick the audio up at the hotel. We could use it to monitor what was happening in and around the commissioner's cell. That way, we can respond faster if he can't use either of his alarms. Also, it would be a backup recording of everything that happens.”

 

Zale nodded and thought a little less than a minute. “I can do it. Give me at few days and I'll have a new recording unit for the prison.”

 

“We don't have a few days,” Ryo reminded the hyper tech.

 

“Oh, well.” He paused and blinked several times as he thought about things. “I can't have it today or tomorrow. I've got to build something with receiving and rebroadcast capability. I don't have anything in the precinct right now that can do both and I'll have to get the parts, build the unit, and get it tested. I can have it in a couple of days at the earliest. We can always trade out units or add the second one. If we use the same frequency, it'll work just fine.”

 

“That's fine,” Berkley said. “I doubt I'll get anything in the first few days anyway. Also, I doubt there will be any trouble right away.”

 

“I'll get on it. Good luck, Commissioner,” Zale said as he turned back to his work, the other two men already forgotten as he focused on his other assignments.

 

“Thank you.” Berkley turned away and left the lab with Ryo. He carried the two bags and looked at the pen. “I hope this passes an inspection by Gideon.”

 

“Can I see that, Sir?” Ryo took the pen and tried opening it. “He super glued it closed.” He chuckled. “Makes sense.”

 

“Yes, it does. I'm sure Dee's ready for me. You're going directly to the hotel to set things up there?” Ryo nodded. “All right. Will you be leaving shortly?”

 

“Yeah, as soon as I gather the files, our laptops, and other items we might need from the office, I'll come back to the lap and pick up the receivers and recording unit. I already have Dee and my clothes and personal stuff in the car; so, I'll be ready to go. After Dee delivers you to the prison, he'll come to the hotel and continue his research on Gideon. He really wants to find something that will make it easier for you to gain his trust.” Ryo stopped before he admitted his partner's premonition that something bad was ahead of them. “He doesn't need to know about Dee's feeling about this assignment. He's just more superstitious than most cops.” His thoughts seemed hollow, even to him.

 

“It sounds as if you have everything under control,” Berkley said as they stopped at Ryo and Dee's office. He glanced inside and noticed Dee wasn't there. “I hope Dee's in the conference room. It doesn't take that long to get candy bars.”

 

“Yeah. That's probably where he is.”

 

“I hope I remember everything,” Berkley voiced a portion of his doubts. He felt out of his element going undercover again. His last assignment had been almost eight years ago, before he became the commissioner of the 27th.

 

“It's a lot to remember; but, J.J. can always refresh your memory. He's going to try memorizing as much of the material as possible. And, he's going to have it on his laptop when he comes to see you. There's no reason you can't glance through it to double check things or even look for more information. Of course, anything new Dee finds, will also be sent inside.”

 

“I know. I'm just thinking aloud.” Berkley smiled and stepped away from the detective. “Good luck with your side of the equation.”

 

“My side's easy. You've got the hard part.” Ryo paused and forced himself to smile. “Good luck, Sir. You're going to be great. I'm just hoping things go even better than you could hope and that you're back very soon.”

 

“Thank you. It would be nice if all this worrying was for nothing.” Berkley smiled and for the first time in more than a day, felt a sense of hope. He headed for the conference room with a strong confident step.

 

Inside the conference room, Berkley settled into his original chair to wait for Dee. He was surprised the dark-haired detective wasn't already there; but, he knew he'd be along in a short time. He took the time to reread parts of Gideon's psyche profile. “They don't mention the animal abuse and pyromania,” He whispered a few minutes later.

 

“I know,” Dee said from the doorway. “I don't understand why it wasn't listed anywhere in the military reports.”

 

Berkley looked up and frowned. “Where did you find it?”

 

“In his juvenile court records. It was brought up as evidence. The prosecution had several experts who testified what could happen if he didn't get treatment and the courts ignored their wishes. They'd original pushed for Gideon to be tried as an adult for assault with a deadly weapon. That was downgraded to simple assault and he was given a slap on the wrist.” Dee sat down and laid the three bags from the Walgreen's down the street on the table. “I wasn't sure how much chocolate they would let you have; so, I bought them out.”

 

“Geez, Dee. I'm not staying for a year.” He chuckled as he shook his head. “At least, I hope I'm not in there that long. We need results faster than that.”

 

“I know; but, it's currency.” He grabbed the top folder from the small stack he'd brought in before he left for the drugstore. “Here's the trail transcript. At least two of the witnesses went into significant detail of the types of animal abuse he preferred. I didn't realize that certain types indicated more severe mental problems than others. To me torturing animals is torturing animals.” He shrugged and turned to the relevant section of the transcript. “They also described some of the fires he started. Almost all of them involved relatively small fires in the city park. There's only one reference to a fire he started in a building; but, I haven't been able to find a police report on it, yet.”

 

“That's all right. This should be enough.” Berkley pointed toward the file. “I'll read it on the ride to Sing Sing. “What else did you find?”

 

“Just minor things.” Dee pulled the last two folders over. “First, this has his school transcripts. Gideon has a genius IQ and tested off the chart on almost every area of testing in school and for college. He could have been anything. There were two areas he was weak though. He wasn't very strong physically and failed physical education every time he took it. What's interesting is that he didn't take gym after the fifth grade. We already know that he's seen as fresh meat inside. You can probably play on that. If that comes up, you might want to mention that you were a scrawny kid or something. Heck, you'd probably impress him if you said you bulked up using steroids.”

 

“I was a scrawny kid. I didn't start filling out until my senior year in college. Even now, if I don't work out, I drop weight almost immediately.” Berkley shrugged. “So, that's something we really do have in common. Why do you think dropping that I used steroids would impress him? I didn't get the impression he was into drugs while reading all this.” He indicated the many files on the table.

 

“There's something Ryo mentioned when we talked more about how he set Gideon up before. He actually used the availability of trading drugs, especially steroids, along with guns and explosives. Steroids were mentioned specifically and Ryo said that he suggested they could help with Gideon's size problem. Gideon said that he didn't want to use them because he wasn't sure if they would give him lasting results without increasing his health risks.”

 

“It's something to think about. I won't guarantee I'll use that one. I don't know how regularly I'll be able to work out inside and I do drop weight, especially muscle, very quickly. I might end up looking stupid and affirming his concern about lasting results.” Berkley nodded toward the file. “What was the second area?”

 

“English,” Dee said simply.

 

“Speaking, reading, writing?” Berkley questioned hoping for more details.

 

“All of the above. Gideon's not articulate. He received D's in speech, creative writing, technical writing, and literature. He didn't get an average or above average grade in any subject related to English. At the end of his junior year, he received one especially scathing note from his writing teacher concerning his ability to research and write a paper.” Dee opened the folder and read from a Post-It on the inside cover. “Quote, `You could go far if you had the ability to assimilate information from multiple sources. Try exploring other forms of literature and research materials as alternatives to hateful pamphlets written for ignorant people. Failure to expand your horizons and applying your intellect to more positive outlets will doom you to failure or prison.' At least one person knew what he was and called him on it. His grades didn't improve after that; but, he always managed to get by.”

 

“He's pushing for an appeal and is representing himself. That means he has to do his own research, write his own papers, etc. That's a lot of work for someone who couldn't even pass a high school English class.” Berkley smirked at the information.

 

“Yeah. But, you're excellent at research and paperwork. If you see him having difficulty with his research, you could offer to help him out.”

 

The commissioner nodded. “It should provide an easy way to not only get him talking about his case; but, it should pave the way for gaining his trust. Has he gotten transcripts of his trial, interrogations, etc?” Dee nodded. “Good. I'll read those after I offer to help him. Talk to the prosecutor and find out something I could provide him that wouldn't hurt their case. If he's successful with getting a piece of evidence or really anything tossed out of court, it would go a long way to gaining his trust. Even if it's something that wasn't used at trial, I could explain it away as preparation for another trial after he wins his appeal.”

 

“Maybe they'd be willing to give him an appeal hearing, if we require it.”

 

“I would rather not go down that road. As soon as he gets a hearing, that would place witnesses at greater risk of being targeted.” Berkley shook his head over that idea. “If it's necessary, absolutely necessary, we'll keep it as a last resort, not before.”

 

“I'll talk to the chief about providing protection for the witnesses in his case. Any of them could be on his target list.” Dee jotted a note in his notepad.

 

“Now, I need to get everything packed. Are you going to help?”

 

“Yes. We need to sort certain things out so we don't set off the scanners. Your bracelet will set off the alarms, as it should. The warden will handle your intake personally and he doesn't want to make anyone suspicious by just passing your through without a search.” Dee smirked. “I don't know if he's willing to bypass the body cavity search, though.”

 

“Dee,” Berkley said, his irritation evident. His irritation turned to nervousness as he thought about the standard check in procedures. “I hope he forgoes the search.”

 

“He is,” Dee said between chuckles. “I had you going there, though. He's going to take you into the search room and talk to you. I think he wants a few questions answered personally and maybe some assurances that you're not going to cause any riots.”

 

“Come on,” Berkley said as he gathered up the folders, leaving Dee's newest additions on top. “Are you taking all these?”

 

“I've got them in my laptop,” Dee growled. “No, I'm taking them. I hate fighting with that stupid thing. I'll take hardcopies any day. I hope Ryo remembered a printer.” He gathered up the remainder of the files and followed the commissioner to his office.

 

“There are two empty paper boxes in the corner of the supply closet. You can pack these in it so they're easier to transport.” Berkley nodded toward the door. “I hope the clothing I brought is appropriate,” He said nervously. Most of the clothing in his closet was professional attire he wore regularly to work; most of the remainder was casual slacks he wore around the house or for shopping, nightclothes, or the sweats and shirts he wore for working out. “I brought sneakers.”

 

Dee scoffed. “I didn't know you owned any.”

 

“I run every morning, Dee. I'm certain going to run in dress shoes.” Berkley tossed the sneakers on the floor. He would wear them during the transfer.

 

“Those might get stolen inside.” Dee looked at the expensive running shoes and knew they would be highly prized by many of the inmates.

 

“So, I'll use them as collateral for membership in a protection network.” Berkley laid his jeans, t-shirts, sweats, and the single suit he'd decided to take on the visitor chairs in front of his desk.

 

“Why the suit?”

 

“I haven't had my trail yet. I'll be expected to dress the part of the innocent defendant for trail. That means a suit, dress shirt, tie, dress shoes, belt, etc. I know they won't let me keep the tie and belt; but, the rest of it should be permitted.” Berkley stacked his underwear, socks, and other items in separate stacks, double-checking that he brought enough to cover at least a week and a half. He wasn't sure how often his laundry would be done and didn't want to run out.

 

After watching the commissioner's careful preparations, Dee could only stand and shake his head in amazement. “If he's this obsessive behind bars, he's going to be dead meat.” He knew few inmates would be as meticulous with their clothing. Most of the jeans looked new; the t-shirts were dressy with no slogans. Worse, his sweats were right out of the newest exercise magazines. “I think we need to take you to Goodwill and get you some old clothes.”

 

“No, I selected these for a reason. Schmidt's file lists him as well dressed and careful with his appearance. The ring leader for the heist stated that all of Schmidt's clothing was new or almost new and that avoided clothing that would make him stand out.”

 

“Oh.” Dee frowned. “I missed that.”

 

“It's okay. I've read his file so many times that I've almost memorized it. Since we don't know if he had specific mannerisms or habits, I can't mimic those. However, since we don't know them; I'm sure Gideon doesn't either.” Berkley finished laying out the last item he was taking. The small black leather-bound journal was still in its wrapping. “Could you hand me the larger bag?”

 

Dee picked the bag up and handed it over. “I'll pack your candy stash. Damn, I forgot the bags. Be right back.”

 

By the time Dee returned, Berkley had most of his clothing neatly packed in the bag. He decided to put the suit in right before they left. If someone were meticulous with their clothes, the suit would be the last to be packed so it wouldn't be wrinkled excessively.

 

“I've got them,” Dee said triumphantly as he came back into the office. It took a few minutes to pack the candy bars in the smaller bag. “We'll pack your toothbrush, razor, pens, and everything containing metal separately. Do you have another small bag around here?”

 

“Yes, somewhere,” Berkley said with a pause. “In the restroom, I think.” He went into the small room and dug a small shaving kit from under the sink. “Will this do?”

 

“Perfect. Make sure you put anything that could be used as a weapon in there.”

 

“That could be anything, Dee.” The comment drew an irritated huff from the detective. “Do you think a new toothbrush would be too much?”

 

“No, you would have probably been given one at check in at Rikers.”

 

Berkley nodded and quickly packed a few personal care items in the bag before returning to his desk to pack the pen with the panic button and several normal writing pens from his desk. He paused and thought about what he'd packed and decided that he had everything he would be permitted under the circumstances.

 

“Ready?” Dee asked quietly.

 

“As I'll ever be,” The commissioner admitted.

 

“Do you still want to be roughed up a bit?” Now that the time had come, Dee wasn't as gung-ho about beating Berkley up.

 

The tall blond nodded. “But, let's wait until we're downstairs; right before you load me into the van. I'd rather not leave here looking like I was in a fight.”

 

“Agreed.” Dee picked up the bag containing the food stash and Berkley's winter coat and put them on top of one of the boxes of folders. “Can you get the other box?”

 

“No problem.” He put the small kit and sneakers in the box, then slung the second bag over his shoulder before picking everything up. As he left the office, he had a sinking feeling that he'd never have the chance to return and paused in the doorway, looking back at the familiar room that had become a second home to him.

 

Sensing what the commissioner might be feeling, Dee moved to his side and talk to him softly. “It'll be here when you get back. Heck, you'll be back before you know it. Nothing's going to change; we won't let it.”

 

Berkley looked at Dee and gave him the slightest shake of his head. “I don't know. I feel as if I'm not coming back.”

 

“You will,” The detective said firmly. Even though Dee had his doubts; he refused to allow the commissioner to have any. “Come on Rose, you have to be strong for this to succeed. If you go in there showing weakness, you won't come back.”

 

“All right,” Berkley said with finality. “You're right. I'll be back.” He turned from his study of the office, placed the box on the small table used for internal mail delivery and pick up, and pulled the door closed. The click of the lock sent a shiver up his spine and made his breath catch. Ignoring the screaming terror in his mind, he picked up the box and followed Dee to the elevator.

 

“We'll put this stuff in the van before you change. There are jumpsuits in holding; but, you should probably change in the locker room. What if someone sees you and asks what's happening? I know the cover story for the precinct is that you're doing some work with the FBI.”

 

“If someone sees us, I'll explain that we're testing the homeland security procedures for transferring suspected terror suspects.” He shrugged.

 

“That works.” Dee stepped out of the elevator and walked to the parked transport van. It took less than a minute to ensconce the boxes next to Dee's coat and re-secure the vehicle.

 

“I'll get changed.” Berkley swallowed hard as they went up the single flight of stairs to enter the holding area.

 

“I'll get the jumpsuit and chains and bring them to the locker room.” Dee waved the commissioner off as he went to grab the necessary items. Within minutes, he was in the locker room. “Sir?” He looked around the apparently vacant room and wondered if the older man had decided to back out. As he walked past the rows of locker, he was both relieved and disappointed to find the blond seated on one of the benches. His eyes were closed and the tension running through the man was clearly visible. “Sir?” Dee asked again, gently, before sitting next to him.

 

Berkley ran his hands over his face and sighed. “Sorry. I'll be fine.”

 

“I brought everything.” Dee touched the older man's arm and felt him shiver. “You'll be fine. Ryo's doing everything he can to keep you safe.”

 

“I know.” Berkley stood and began undressing. As he pulled off his shirt, he stopped. “Dee, if you're going to rough me up, that has to happen before I change.” He looked back at his detective. “If you draw blood, it can't be on the jumpsuit. That would show the injuries happened while I was wearing it.”

 

“And, Rikers doesn't require a jumpsuit.” Dee nodded. “Glad you remembered that.” He paused and frowned. “I know I was happy about this yesterday. Now, I'm not so sure.”

 

“It's necessary for the cover story.” Berkley waited as Dee wrestled with himself. “Maybe this will help. Think back to when I stole a kiss from Ryo. What did you want to do?”

 

“I wanted to pound you to a pulp,” Dee admitted with a dark laugh.

 

“Use what you felt then to do this.” The commissioner paused a moment before chuckling over Dee's shocked look. “Just stop before I'm a pulp.”

 

Sobering immediately, Dee nodded. “I will. If you don't want that shirt ruined, you should take it off.”

 

“Same with the undershirt,” Berkley said softly before quickly removing both items. He tossed the items on the bench before adding his glasses; he knew that Dee had stood because the orange jumpsuit and chains were on the bench where he'd been seated. Suspecting what was ahead of him, he slowly looked up and was immediately greeted by one of Dee's fists. He rocked back several steps before regaining his balance and had to force himself not to put his hands up to block the punches.

 

“Try to protect yourself,” Dee prompted. “In a fight, you're going to receive defensive injuries.”

 

With a blink, Berkley realized his detective was right and mentally chastised himself for not thinking of it. He raised his hands and blocked Dee's next two punches.

 

“Let me land a couple more hits.”

 

Berkley dropped his guard and was immediately rocked by another solid punch. As Dee let the next punch fly, the commissioner couldn't stop the urge to block it and took the punch on his hand, instead of his face. The intense expression on Dee's face surprised him; even though Dee played by his own set of rules, he was an excellent detective and took pride in his work. “Maybe I should have had Ryo do this part,” He thought as Dee threw a punch to his abdomen. “No, he hits harder.”

 

Dee feigned another shot to Berkley's gut and immediately landed a jab to his jaw. The punch was solid enough to slam the commissioner against the far wall before he stumbled forward with his guard completely down. Running on automatic, Dee followed through with a solid hit to the ribs, driving the breath out of the older man. As Berkley sagged to his knees, Dee had a momentary thought that he'd taken it too far.

 

“Enough,” Berkley managed to gasp out after a couple of minutes. “Those are going to leave bruises.”

 

Dee knelt down and looked at Berkley's face. “Looks good. I'll get you a towel; you're bleeding.” He went for a towel and quickly returned with a pair, one wet and one dry. “That last punch should leave a bruise.”

 

“All of them will.” Berkley flinched as he pressed the wet cloth again his split lip. He suspected he had a broken nose as well. He could feel the blood trickle from it and knew if it was broken, that it wouldn't be long before it started to bleed in earnest.

 

“I'm sorry. I didn't want you to suffer through any more punches than absolutely necessary. You should have a black eye and a bruise on your jaw.”

 

“Then why the ribs and my stomach,” Berkley said with a grimace.

 

“When you change clothes, Gideon's going to expect to see evidence of a fight. No one only focuses on the face during a fight.” Dee reached out and pulled the towel out of Berkley's shaking fingers. “Come on, sit on the bench. I'm pretty good at patching people up.” He helped the older man to the bench and gently cleaned away the blood. “Damn, you bleed a lot.”

 

“I always have.”

 

“I hope you're not still bleeding when you get to the prison. The warden will think your cover story is fact.” Dee wiped the last of the blood away and was relieved when more didn't take its place. “That should do it. I'll give you some ice for the trip.”

 

“Let me see your handiwork.” The commissioner stood, favoring his side. “I hope you didn't break anything.”

 

“I'd have felt something break. I don't think I hit you hard enough to break them.” He shrugged. “Heck, I know bruised ribs hurt a lot worse than broken ones. Ryo's nailed me pretty good in practice before.”

 

After looking at himself in the mirror, Berkley had to admit that Dee had done an excellent job. He was already starting to develop bruises around one eye, his jaw, and the corner of his mouth. Raising his left arm and turning slightly, he checked off a pretty significant bruise in his lower ribcage. “He might not have broken anything; but, those were all solid hits.”

 

“Come on, we're running late,” Dee said softly. “They'll be there when you get to the prison.”

 

Berkley quickly changed in silence. He shuddered as Dee closed the first leg shackle. “Are those necessary during the drive?”

 

“I want to adjust them here, instead of in a moving vehicle.” Dee glanced up and closed the second shackle. He made a couple of adjustments so the metal gripped Berkley's legs firmly; but, weren't tight enough to bind or cause pain. “Try walking in them.” When the commissioner stumbled, he caught and steadied him before lengthening the connecting chain. He nodded for him to try again, this time successfully. He performed the same action for the waist section before removing everything. “We'll put these back on right before we reach the prison.”

 

Berkley could only nod. The manacles had solidified what was happening for him and his initial terror was back full-force.

 

Not knowing what to say, Dee just handed Berkley's glasses to him and led the way from the locker room, looking around to make sure no one was around before opening the doors to the stairway. The pair quickly reached the van where Dee locked the commissioner inside before rushing back to the holding area to get a bag of ice. When he returned to the van, Lincoln and Mackey were waiting. He gave the pair a nod and bleeped off the security system.

 

“Who's driving?” Lincoln asked.

 

“Either of you, I'm riding in back with the commissioner.” Dee caught himself and frowned. “I mean Albert Schmidt.”

 

“Okay.” Lincoln reached for the keys. Dee handed the fob over after opening the sliding door so he could sit next to the commissioner.

 

“Damn, what happened to him?” Mackey exclaimed when he saw Berkley's face.

 

The bruising had deepened and Dee had to wonder if he'd done more damage than he'd initially assumed. He'd taken Berkley's suggestion and thought about how he'd felt after finding out that the commissioner had stolen a kiss from his partner. He'd thought he'd placed those emotions behind him and only after throwing the first punch, did he realized that he still had some residual anger. He admitted that residual anger might have been the reason he'd thrown the last, admittedly unnecessary punch. He frowned as Berkley shivered in the chilly air. “Your nose is bleeding again,” He quietly informed the other man before turning to the rookies. “You want to know what happened to him? I did and I'll do the same to both of you if you don't get in the van, now. We have an excuse for being late since we've been working for the last twenty-four hours. What's your excuse?” Dee growled as he climbed into the van and slammed the door.

 

The rookies exchanged nervous looks before climbing into the van. While Lincoln double-checked the directions, they snuck looks at the men in the caged transport area. Both men were surprised at how gently Dee handled their commissioner and tended to the injuries he admitted inflicting.

 

“Let's get moving, Lincoln,” Dee prompted after it was apparent the rookie needed encouragement. “We don't have all day.”

 

“Okay, I'm almost ready, Sir.” He wasn't sure which man he was addressing.

 

Several minutes later, they were navigating the busy New York streets, their destination, Sing Sing.