Hard Time by Demi-X Part One ictor, LiAnne and Mac sat in their usual order at the long table in the Director's office: LiAnne in the middle with the two male agents flanking her sides. Stuck in the middle, as usual LiAnne thought as she looked at Mac who was on her left and then at Victor on her right. After a while, her mind started tuning out the droning voice of the Director—who was reprimanding Vic and Mac about their last mission and all the mistakes they had made—as the lyrics "Clowns to the right of me, Jokers to the left" began to run through her head. She couldn't help but smile and laugh softly to herself in response to the song, and how appropriate that little tune seemed for this situation. Unfortunately, the laugh and smile that was meant only for herself, did not go unnoticed by her ever-aware boss. "Something funny, LiAnne?" asked the Director seriously. "I don't see what it could be. since I sure as hell don't think the way the three of you behaved on the last mission is anything to laugh about." The Director was frustrated by the two men's failure to get along and LiAnne's apparent apathy regarding their rivalry. The Director knew her instincts were right by putting this team together. All the components for a successful working partnership were there. She believed that once the men got over the fact that they were both in love with the same woman -even though LiAnne was in love with neither of them -then the men's sense of solidarity would click into place. It was really only a matter of time before it did, Victor and Mac were a lot alike in many ways. And once the men formed that united front, and settled in to a working relationship she believed the chemistry between all three would be explosive. Only problem was, her two most pig-headed male agents still haven't gotten over their juvenile contest to top each other yet. The Director sighed and leaned back in her chair. She opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out a black folder. Flipping the folder open she pulled out a photo of a young man who had been found dead, deep in the woods to the North. "Well, gentlemen, you may not have gotten along on the last assignment but I guarantee you that you will on this one. In fact, it's crucial that you do get along." The Director stood up and tossed several crime scene photos of the dead man on the table in front of the agents. Each of them grabbed a photo and looked to her for the information on the deceased man. "Meet Joseph James Carter, 27, blond hair, brown eyes, 5' 11", 190lbs, and deader than the proverbial doornail." She looked directly at Mac and Victor, making sure the two of them understood the seriousness of what she was about to say. "At the time of his death, Joseph Carter was supposed to be incarcerated at Kensington Federal Penitentiary. He was convicted on May 12 1996 and had been serving a stretch of 4-10 years for armed robbery. In fact he had to do a minimum of four years before he could even go before the parole board." The Director paused to let those facts sink in before moving on. "So now you should be asking yourselves, what's a guy whose supposed to be in prison for at least another year and a half doing in the woods to the North? That I will leave up to you two to find out." She placed more photos containing the rest of the crime scene, pictures of the prison from the outside and other related data in front of the agents. They examined the material in silence, all three of them knowing better than to ask questions until their boss was done talking. The Director began pacing around the room like a tiger stalking it's prey, as she continued talking in a casual tone, "There's no record of Carter escaping from prison. Not only that, in addition to him, three other men have gone missing from the same prison, with no record of what happened to them." She spun around on her heels to face the male agents. "Victor, Mac, the two of you will go inside the prison as inmates. LiAnne will work the other side of the bars; and set up shop as the new social worker-councillor with a degree in psychology. And I'll also keep contact with you two under the guise of being your lawyer." The Director paused at that point, unconsciously giving a small smile as she imagined herself, dressed in one of her shortest skirts and a tight almost see-through blouse, walking down a long dim hallway passing cell after cell with muscle-bound convicts, who would all be salivating over her, wanting her and her alone.... "Um, hey," Mac spoke up, interrupting the Director's steamy thoughts of prison. "Don't you think that sending Victor to prison might be a little dangerous?" Victor raised his eyebrows in surprise, he had been thinking the exact same thing, only Mac beat him to voicing the concern. The Director gave Mac a mock look of surprise. "Why, Maaaac," she cooed, "Just look at you. Is it my imagination or are you actually concerned for Vic's safety? And here I thought you didn't care about him!" Mac shrugged his shoulders in nonchalance and replied in a neutral voice, "Listen, I could care less about 'Barretta' here, him getting hurt is no skin off my back. But on a job like this, that's different. Something like this could be a life or death situation. And considering it's going to only be him and me in there, I'd rather not have my partner shanked the first time he showers. Not that Vic here was some sort of supercop...." Vic looked at Mac and interrupted with a snort. "Gee thanks for the vote of confidence, man," he said. Ignoring Vic's comment, Mac went on, "Like I said, even though Vic wasn't a supercop with a astounding number of arrests, there's still gotta be at least ten felons in that joint who would recognize Victor for being one of the boy's in blue." "I think I can speak for myself , Mac." Victor gave Mac a dour look before continuing, "I hate to say it...but he's right. I know I sent a few guys up there for stretches of twenty years or more. I don't think they'd make a very good welcoming committee." "Now Victor, do you think I would put you in that kind of danger?" asked the Director, pretending to be shocked at such a notion. "After the way Mac and I behaved on the last mission, I would say anything's possible." "Well put such thoughts out of your head, Vic. It's been arranged so that all inmates that you've ever crossed paths with be transferred out, so there should be no one left that will recognize you." She paused for a few beats then added as an afterthought, "But if I were you, I'd be on my guard at all times anyway. It is prison." It was a rather unnecessary reminderthough, the two agents already knew that they would have to be on guard 24/7. "Who's gonna back up the guys when we're not around?" LiAnne asked. It was almost surprising that no one had thought to bring that question up yet as it was really the most natural issue to be brought up. All kinds of violent images had gone through LiAnne's mind when she thought of all the possible scenarios that could happen to two good looking guys like Victor and Mac in a place like that. She Director smiled at LiAnne before answering. She considered LiAnne one of her sharpest and brightest agent, she was always level-headed and asking the appropriate questions at the appropriate times. "I would like to say that since I believe that Mac and Vic are capable of taking care of themselves, there will be no back-up," the Director paused to shoot her two male agents a mildly dirty look to emphasize her statement, "But the truth is, I couldn't risk sending in more than two new people at one time since I don't want to raise any suspicions. Everyone in the place is a suspect right now, from the infirmary doctor to the warden. Unfortunately the information we do have on the place is vague at best. However, there will be one guard who will do his best to watch over you guys. He's not really one of our people, but it was his report that tipped us off to a potential problem in the first place. We did establish contact with him, so he will know you two, but we thought it best if you don't know who he is for now because we don't want to put him in a dangerous position." She picked up her coffee cup then and drank the cool water inside. Only after her thirst had been satisfied, did she continue on, "Of course he isn't on duty for every shift, but since he's all we've got, he will have to do." "Here are your cover stories and all the pertinent information on Kensington: the air ducts, sewer systems, possible ways out of the prison, yadda yadda yadda." She handed Mac and Victor a thick file folder each as she talked. "The shifts for the guards run every twelve hours from 7 to 7. Make sure you memorize everything. I suggest you two guys go home now and get a good nights sleep. I think it will be the last one you'll get for a while." "Umm," Mac started, "how long will we be inside?" The Director looked at Mac grimly. "As long as it takes for you two to find out why three healthy men who were supposed to be incarcerated are missing and presumed dead. Not to mention however long it'll take you two to find out why the fourth missing inmate was found dead in woods 100 kilometers away from where he's suppose to be." "How will we get inside?" this coming from Vic. "You will entering the prison like every other convicted felon: in a law enforcement vehicle. In your case one of our lock-up vans. Dobrinsky will be driving." She turned away from Victor and Mac to speak to LiAnne. "And here's your cover, LiAnne." The agent stood and took her file from the Director and browsed through it. The two women started walking away while in deep discussion, ignoring the men. Mac looked at Vic and said casually in a high pitched voice with a bad English accent, "Looks like the queen has dismissed us. Shall we?" Mac swept his arm towards the glass doors. Victor answered back in just a slightly better accented voice, "Lets. Lead on, MacDuff." then in his normal voice, "Come on we can go to my place and go over the material" Victor gave Mac a large grin and then fell into step behind Mac as he passed through the doors. The Director would've been proud had she seen them now, getting along as well as they did. In fact, both men, when not in the presence of LiAnne, actually got along much better than when she was around. They would talk and joke around as if they were at least acquaintances on good terms, if not good friends. As the two of them headed out of the Agency and to their own cars, they continued their friendly back and forth banter and occasionally would even laugh out loud. Mac followed Victor to his apartment. As the late afternoon shadows passed into early evening darkness, the men sat across each other at Victor's small dining room table sharing their cover names and stories and working to committing the various maps of possible ways in and out of the prison to memory. Each man had laughed at not only their own false names but each others: Victor Smith and Mac Jones. Both men wondered at the lack of imagination of somebody in the 'false i.d. department' at the Agency. At least, the agents agreed, they had decent rap sheets— both being armed robbers, specializing in jewelry stores and museums. It was actually pre-arranged that the two of them would end up as bunkmates in Kensington, even though they weren't partners going in. They were relieved at that arrangement, it would make things a whole lot easier on them. Some time before midnight, Victor, with four beers under his belt, confided to Mac that he was in fact more than a little nervous about being in Kensington. "It's not the prison life I'm worried about, per say. I can do the cell time. That's no problem. But if even just one guy thinks recognizes me, then I'm toast. If I'm fingered as a cop, I don't think I'll live long enough to even call you for help." Victor chewed on his bottom lip nervously. Both of them knew that the risks of going in were far greater for Victor than for Mac. "Don't worry, Vic. I promise I'll be there watching your back all the time. I swear." Mac smiled at Victor, trying to ease the other man's concerns. They clinked beer bottles and drank to Mac's declaration, which worked as an unspoken truce made to push aside the competitiveness between them for now. After a beat, Mac looked at his watch and stood up and gestured towards the paperwork laying all over the table top. "Well it's midnight already. If we don't know it by now, we never will. I better get going home. We have to be at the Agency at 9 am tomorrow. Try to get a good nights sleep, Vic." Mac shrugged on his suit jacket and walked to the front door of Victor's apartment. He grasped the knob and pulled the door open, but before he could walk out, Victor,who had followed him, grabbed Mac's arm to hold him back. Mac turned around with a questioning look. Victor searched his partner's eyes and then said seriously, "I got your back too, man." And Vic meant it, he knew Mac would definitely be getting the most amount of attention. Even Victor himself, had to admit grudgingly that Mac was not a bad looking guy, in fact, on his good days, he could even be considered pretty. Victor had a clear picture of how his partner was going to look to the other horny inmates. He let Mac go and grabbed the side of the door and opened it up wider. Mac smiled easily and answered, "I know you do, Vic." Mac saluted Victor briefly and passed through the door's threshold. He casually walked down the hall, not looking at all like a man who was about to go to prison the very next morning. Victor shut the door behind Mac and locked it. He leaned against the door, suddenly feeling very, very tired. He hoped the Director knew what she was doing by sending an ex-cop and a pretty boy into the largest and most dangerous prison in the country. Part Two All night long Victor tossed and turned in his bed, and when the high pitched ring of his phone cut through the quiet of his bedroom, interrupting his restlessness, he was grateful for it. He sat up immediately at the noise and in the pre-dawn autumn darkness made a perfect, blind grab for the receiver. "Hello?" he asked in a deceivingly sleepy voice, as he swiped his hand across his forehead which came away moist. He grimaced slightly as he rubbed the sweat between his fingertips. "Vic, it's me," came Mac's cheerful reply. "Do you want to go to the Agency together or in separate cars?" Mac. Figures. He's always up earlier than me. Probably already had his work-out and breakfast. Geez, like this was just any other morning. Victor grunted softly into the phone as he flicked his eyes sideways to look at the red digits on his bedside clock. "Do you know what time it is?" he complained, no real anger in his voice. "Of course I know what time it is; it's 5:45 am. I just finished my work-out and I was thinking, if you didn't mind, maybe we could take your truck to work so I can leave my 'beamer' here in the security garage." "I should have known you wouldn't want to drive. Let me guess, you don't want to leave your wheels at the Agency in case someone starts getting nasty ideas about it." "Hey, Dobrinski hates me, you know that. Who knows what he would do to my car if I left it unattended in lot for too long..." "Sugar the gas tank? Or maybe spray paint graffiti on it?" Victor cut in. "You bet he'd do something like that. So how about it? Do you mind driving?" "No, I don't mind." Vic preferred his driving to Mac's anyway. "I'll pick you up at eight." "Come over earlier and I'll take you out for our last good breakfast before we start prison rations," Mac offered and he was quite serious about it too. Like Victor, he had been in prison for a short while as well, and though he believed Canadian prison fare must be better than the food in a Hong Kong jail, he knew it still couldn't compare to food eaten in freedom. "See ya in a bit," he added and then hung up. Victor sat for a minute longer after he had said goodbye to Mac with the phone still in his hand. A chill ran down his still sweat slicked spine. His thoughts had been temporarily sidetrack while talking to Mac on the phone, but here now in the early morning stillness his memory of the nightmares that had caused his restlessness came back to him in small bits and pieces. Though he couldn't remember exactly everything of what he had dreamt, he knew that his dreams had mostly involved the time that he had been incarcerated. Of being segregated from the rest of prison population. Images of solitude, isolation and the burdening sense of loneliness and despair that he had felt on the first day serving his unjust jail sentence came back to haunt him. Another chill ran through him. He shook off the morose thoughts and slowly became aware of the monotonous dial tone coming from the phone. Victor hung up the phone, threw back his blankets and stood up. He padded softly over the thick carpet on his floor to the open bedroom window and shut it, hoping that that was the source of his chills. Unfortunately, it wasn't. He walked over to the large lazy-boy chair that was nestled against the wall in his room and picked up his robe which was laying across it, slipping it on and tying the belt haphazardly as he went down the dark hallway to the kitchen. Once there he made a bee-line for the fridge to get his favorite brand of coffee beans. He sniffed in the rich scent and then scooped them in the basket. He continued to make his morning coffee using only the light of the fridge, for his gloomy thoughts weren't quite ready for the lights yet. Mac exited the security mini-bus first, followed by Victor. Stepping down and out the vehicle the Agency had provided was no easy feat since both men were retstrained: they had a heavy chains around their waists so that their wrists were held down against their sides, making it impossible for them to move their wrists more than two inches in any direction. They were also wearing ankle chains so they could not even separate their feet for more than eight inches apart. It was a definite interference with maintaining balance. Dobrinski had dressed for the part of a law enforcement officer and even acted like one too. He opened the bus door but did not assist the 'felons' out even though it was obvious they needed it. Mac stumbled but did not fall, much to Dobrinski's disappointment. As soon as they were out of the bus, Mac and Victor were led by a Kensington guard and flanked by two more, followed by Dobrinski. They were taken inside a small red brick building aptly named by a sign overhead the double steel doors as 'Reception: No Unauthorized Personal Allowed'. Dobrinski signed the appropriate papers and forms but instead of staying to share a coffee and some banter with the other guards, he chose to be on his way instead. He smiled at the guards before turning sharply on his heel so that his back to the other men and said gruffly to the two agents, "You two turds better behave yourselves." And then with a small smile playing about his mouth, he pointed at Mac and said to Victor, "Don't let this shithead get you into more trouble than he already has." Mac scowled at Dobrinski and Victor coughed lightly to cover up his grin but said nothing. Dobrinski walked out of the door without so much as a backward glance to the undercover agents. When the steel doors banged shut, both men knew that their last link to the outside world for the next few days was gone. Neither one of them would be able to see the Director or LiAnne until Monday morning, and since today was only Friday, who knows what will happen to them in the meantime. They were completely on their own now. "Okay, guys," a guard named 'Wang' said to the two men, "Follow me." Wang turned on his heel and walked towards another set of steel doors, with the two agents following behind. He led them through the double steel doors and then a large metal detector. In front of another door, this one a single steel door with a window with bars in the middle, he paused to pull out his keys to unlock the door. Mac and Victor passed through and found themselves in a room that had two long benches against a wall on which sat four other men who were chained in the same manner as they were. One man was Asian, another was Indo-Canadian while the other two were white. The Asian man looked like he was probably only in his early twenties and he was relatively small in stature and very slender. However, though he may have looked young, he was still able to relay a "don't fuck with me" message in his posture loud and clear. The Indo-Canadian, on the other hand, was a much larger man. Even though he was sitting down, it was still obvious that he would be a very intimidating presence when he stood up. He was heavy set with a very large beer belly and both of his arms were covered with way too many bad tattoos. The two men left were ordinary looking Caucasians; the only "unique" characteristic they had was that they were both scruffy and in need of a shower. Each had several days growth of beard on their faces and both had identical looks of boredom on their face. "Get up," intoned a bored and overweight hack who wore a name tag that simply read 'Leary'. The men stood up obediently at his command. To Mac and Vic, Leary stated, "To the line, gentlemen." Mac and Victor joined the others; Victor stood at the end of the line next to Mac who was next to the Asian inmate. The men stood evenly spaced with the tips of their toes on a long yellow line. The convicts were on one side of the line while Leary and the other guard, Wang, stood on the other side of it, one at each end. As the men lined up another hack came through yet another locked door, this one on the opposite side of the sterile white tiled room. All the men behind the line could tell that he was no ordinary guard. Other than the fact that he wore a different uniform from the two guards, it was his demeanor. He had an definite air of authority. He seemed to be in his middle forties, and he had dark brown hair which was peppered with just the right amount of grey. His hair was typically short, just like all the other hacks in the place. He was six feet tall and large framed; sturdy, with no evidence of excess fat at all. His steel-toed shoes shone brilliantly and so did his nightstick. Both Mac and Vic guessed that this was the commanding officer. He walked slowly up and down the line of prisoners eyeballing each man with a disdainful expression in his deep brown eyes. Mac felt like he was a bug under a microscope, while Victor, on the other hand, was getting pissed off at the C.O.'s attitude. The guy didn't know a thing about any of the men standing in the line, but Vic could tell by the way the guard was looking at them that he was already forming a pre-conceived opinion of all of them. If the other prisoners felt uncomfortable under the gaze none of them showed or spoke it. Victor didn't appreciate the man's condescending attitude or the ugly sneer on his face. His eyes were uncomfortably cold and there was a hint of ruthlessness in them as well. Some of the guys on his force were like that; they would pretend to rule with a red right hand, as if they were above the law just because they worked for the law. Vic never got along with those guys, even though they were his colleagues. He had a feeling this guy was the same; he basically reeked of trouble. When the commanding officer finished scrutinizing the men, he came to a stand at the opposite end of the line from Victor. "My name is John Dean Gant," the man spoke with a deep surly voice which boomed through the room. There was definitely no mistaking who was in charge here. "And I am the commanding officer in charge of the guards and everyone else." He smiled coldly at one of the inmates in front of him who was slightly intimidated. "I run this shithole! Not Warden Greer, not Under Warden James. Me. I run it! Now the law says that you need to be put away so you can learn to change your ways, learn to be better human beings. Believe me you sorry lot of pricks, I intend to do just that!" Gant gave the first convict in line an unmistakable look of disdain before moving away slowly, walking past each man in line as he continued reciting his 'welcome' speech. "You will sleep on schedule, eat on schedule, shit, piss and brush your teeth on schedule. MY schedule! You no longer have any say in what you think or do. From today on, my opinions are your opinions." As he walked by Mac he yelled, "We will tell you where to go and when." Gant came to a stand still directly in front of Victor. He looked Victor up and down once, and then stepped so close that they were almost nose to nose and said harshly as if he was speaking to Victor and Victor alone, "From here on in, until the day of you're release, your ass is mine!." Gant was so close that Victor could clearly feel the warm moisture of the man's breath upon his face. His eyes shot up and he stared defiantly at the commander, whose eyes were gleaming with determined malice. Victor reminded himself that this was not the right man to pull the rebellious prisoner act with—even though the guy's rather stereotypical speech had made him want to laugh—so he quickly lowered his eyes and gave Mac a quick sideways glance. Mac, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes at Gant. He didn't like being yelled at or being told what to do. The fact that the man was trying to intimidate them into good behavior was not lost on him, but he was not impressed. He looked back and forth between the other two guards and saw that Wang's face showed no emotion while Leary's face was as bland as his voice. A key rattled in the lock of the door that Gant had come through, and in walked yet another guard holding a clipboard with some papers on it. The guy's name tag read 'Walker'. He was only about 5'10" but very stocky, his large body builder muscles almost seemed out of place on his shorter frame. He had deep blue eyes and a very short and very light blond buzzcut that was cut square, not rounded. Gant turned and looked at the man over his shoulder, then pulled his nightstick out before taking a backwards step away from Victor. He continued on with his speech, "There will be two men to a cell, which from now on will be referred to as a pod. Keep your pods clean, gentlemen, respect what little you do have. This is your chance to change, so don't blow it." All the while Gant was talking he tapped the shiny black night stick into the palm of his left hand and Mac thought that he was doing it unconsciously, like how a person would bite their nails or grind their teeth. The motion was irritating to Mac, though he didn't know why. But of course he just bit his tongue and fumed silently. Gant reached blindly out with one outstretched arm and the hack named Walker on silent cue, deposited the clipboard in his hand then stood one step behind and beside his C.O. "Ok, you'll all be in B block, Chang and Singh, Tomson and Gorman," he called out while glancing at the Asian, the Indo-Canadian, and then the two Caucasian convicts in that order, "You guys are podmates. Smith and Jones," Gant looked up from the clipboard and smirked at Victor and Mac, "Kinda has a nice ring to it, don't it? Okay you two are podmates as well so get used to looking at each other." Gant walked back to Victor who happened to be staring at his feet, and said, "Leary, Wang, get started on the body search on these five." He pointed his finger at Mac and then swept it down to Gorman on the other end and then back to settle squarely on Vic. "I think Mr. Smith here is hiding contraband; he can't seem to look me in the eyes." Victor snapped his eyes front and center in surprise and looked at the C.O. directly. "What? No way! I'm not muling anything," he blurted out defiantly. Oh shit! then thought a split second later, Maybe I shouldn't have done that. He glanced back down quickly, hoping the outburst would be over looked. He didn't dare look at Mac, but just kept his head down. He could feel his own cheeks warm under the Commander's steady gaze. Without warning, Gant jabbed his nightstick hard, square into Victor's stomach, causing the agent to double over with pain, his breath pushed out of him. "Shut up! " Gant shouted. "I thought I told you that you have no say in here." Mac made a motion towards Victor, intending on helping him, but Gant stuck out his stick and stopped Mac by poking him gently in the stomach with it. "Back in line shithead," he warned quietly. Mac looked around him, saw that the guards were ready to pounce should he try anything stupid; he had no choice but to obey. Gant stared down at Victor then he looked over his shoulder to 'Walker' and instructed, "Take this prisoner to exam room three." Walker went over to Victor and hauled the gasping agent up to his feet and without a word, dragged him through the door in which the guard had come through earlier. Mac watched with a frown. He was very worried for Victor but confident that they wouldn't find anything on his partner. He hoped that Vic would go along with them so they wouldn't have an excuse to hurt him further. Gant looked at Leary and Wang and nodded his head as he passed through the same door that Walker and Vic had gone through. As soon as the commander was gone, Leary barked out loudly, "All right you heard the man. Strip, you losers!" As Mac began removing his clothing, he couldn't help but wonder what was happening to Victor. Damn, only in the joint for less than an hour and already there's trouble. Wouldn't the leather freak be amazed that it's not me this time! Mac sighed deeply and as he untied his shoe laces, his mind remained on his partner. WARNING: The next chapter contains a graphic depiction of a rape scene. Strictly NC17. Part Three Victor began to struggle as soon as the door clanged shut behind Walker and him. Not a man to put up with acts of defiancé in any way, shape, or form, Gant grabbed Victor by the hair and pulled his head back harshly as far as he could. "Listen, you prick. Fighting will only make it worse on you. I will NOT tolerate any kind of bullshit. Understand?!" When no reply was immediately forthcoming, Gant tightened his grip on Victor's hair and yelled, "I said, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" The excruciatingly tight hold Gant had on Victor's hair made it virtually impossible for him to talk, all he could do was whisper a low and breathless "yes" in reply. "Good." Gant told Victor in an almost sincere voice. Then he stood and nodded his head at Walker, who took the signal and released Victor's arm. The minute Walker let go, Gant swung his fist and it landed squarely on the side of Victor's face. Victor, completely caught unaware by the attack, fell to his knees from the impact. Squatting down Gant grabbed Victor under the chin and forced him to meet his eyes as he said to the dazed man, "Don't faint yet, Smith. We're just getting started." Just as he had said that, another guard came in and interrupted the scene by clearing his throat loudly to catch his commander's attention. Gant turned to him with a furious look which made the younger man very nervous. "Ex-excuse me, sir. But I, um, I have a message for you. It's important" he stammered. Gant looked back at Victor for another second before letting him go. He stood up and said to Walker, "I want you to take him to the examining room and make sure he knows who's in charge by the time I get there." As Walker was dragging Victor away down the hall he clearly heard the younger guard say to Gant, "Warden Greer has been trying to reach you. He wants to talk to you immediately. There seems to be a situation and..." Walker jammed his key forcefully into the lock and kicked the door open to exam room three with one booted foot. He hauled Victor through and then kicked the door close behind them. He pushed Victor to the floor and the agent hit the cold white tiles like a sack of potatoes. Walker pulled his baton out from his belt and began to hit Vic over the left side of his ribs several times. The blows were hard enough to create deep red and purple bruises along the bony protrusions of Vic's ribs but not quite enough to fracture or break them. From years of practice, Walker had learned exactly how much force was needed to bruise a man and how much was needed to break bones. Victor made low guttural sounds through his beating but stub- bornly refused to cry out. After a few more blows, the beating finally stopped. It took a while for Victor to catch his breath and when he was sure he wouldn't pass out from the pain, he rolled onto his hands and knees and looked up to meet the guard's eyes. "Look, man, I'm not hiding anything! I swear it." When Walker reached for him, Victor couldn't help flinching slightly as he thought he was about to be hit again. But instead, Walker only wrapped his hand around Vic's left bicep. The guard dug his fingers into the man's muscle and used the grip to pull him up on his feet. "From now on, when Gant tells you to do something, you do it. No arguments. the same goes for me. When I tell you to 'jump', you ask me how high." As if to emphasize his point, Walker pushed Victor against the wall and pinned him there with his own barrel of a chest and by holding the agent's face tightly by the chin with his large hand. He stared at Victor with an intense gaze for a minute before giving him a half smile and taking a step back while keeping his grip on Victor's face. He forced Victor to turn his head left, then right. Walker continued to scrutinize Victor for a few more seconds in silence. He then made a "hmmph" sound and finally released his hold on the agent's chin. Victor watched the man warily as he took a few steps back, wishing he could lift his own chained hands to rub some circulation back in to his cheeks. While leering at Victor, Walker stated casually, "Now I can see why Gant would want to examine you himself." Victor started in surprise. "What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded uncertainly. Walker gave a genuine bark of laughter at the agent's na�ve question and the worried look on his face. "What? You can't guess?" Walker shook his head in disbelief when he saw the blank look on Victor's face. "Man, do I have to spell it out for you? Alright, I guess I have to. Let me put it bluntly: Gant wants to have his dick up your ass first before the rest of the shitheads in this dump get a hold of you." Walker chuckled nastily. Victor gave Walker an incredulous look. "You-you can't be serious. He can't do that! He's-he's the C.O.!" The idea of Gant having the hots for him was fairly alarming to Vic; or rather, the idea of any guy in this joint wanting to jump his bones was alarming. And to think, he had been worried about Mac's virtue! Walker shook his head again and smirked. "Yeah well, you just keep on believing that, sweetie, even while Gant is pounding away on you. And I'm sure he will too since you're exactly his type." Walker shrugged and uncrossed his arms, said in a practical tone, "Get use to it, Smith. Sooner or later, every guy in here is gonna try to fuck you. Gant just likes to do it before everyone else." Before Vic could respond, he heard the sound of the door unlocking and in came the man who was being discussed. Gant's eyes immediately trained on Victor even though his words were directed at Walker instead, "You're needed in the tower for a few. Tether the prisoner and remove his ankle chains. You can come back in thirty minutes; the search should be complete by then." As he said this, his eyes were sweeping up and down Victor's body. The expression in his eyes were that of a predator. When his eyes met Vic's again, he licked his lips. "Gotcha," Walking replied knowingly to Gant. The guard strode over to the table that stood against another wall in the room and picked up a long and thick piece of leather that had large silver metal clasps on either end of it. To Victor, it resembled an extra long dog leash. He inhaled deeply in concern. Walker returned to stand in front of Vic and reaching out with an arm, he spun the prisoner around quickly. He clipped one end of the restraining device to a metal loop at the small of Victor's back which was attached to his waist chain. Walker then reached a few feet over Victor's head and clipped the other end of the "belt" to a large eye hook anchored in the tiled wall. Kneeling down, he used his key to remove the cuffs and chain that had restrained Victor's legs. When he was done, he strode out the room without another word, leaving Victor alone for the first time with Gant. The way he was restrained made Victor feel completely helpless. He knew the device would prevent him from moving any good amount of distance in any direction. What Walker had told him about Gant's intentions made him feel even worse and he was praying to God that Walker was only trying to psyche him out. Gant gave him another hard look before going over to the small table. He began removing his pepper spray and keys and placing them on the table next to a box of rubber gloves, a tube of lu- bricant, and a set of the clothes that was the prison's uniform. He left his baton hanging on the loop of his utility belt and from the pocket of his uniform, he pulled out a small switchblade. As he approached Victor, who was getting as nervous as hell, he pushed a small button on the weapon and out popped a three inch blade that looked very sharp. "Hey, shouldn't there be another guard in here or something when you search me?" Victor asked apprehensively. Gant gave Victor an almost evil smile and replied, "Yeah but he was needed elsewhere so I'm gonna start without him." Placing the point of the knife underneath Victor's chin, Gant forced the man backwards until his back was up against the wall. He then reached out and grabbing the neck of Victor's plain white t-shirt, cut through the thin material and split it down the middle with a quick flick of his wrist. Victor looked down wide-eyed at the trail of blood the blade left on his chest for Gant had pushed the blade through his shirt too far. There was only a faint sting from the wound for the cut was only superficial, but it still alarmed Victor and moved him to protest angrily, "You can't do this, dammit! You're violating my rights!" "Rights?" Gant snorted derisively. "Rights. In case you forgot, you're in prison now. My prison! So the only right here is my right to do anything I damn well want to." In one quick motion, Gant reached over with his other hand to pull Vic's t-shirt out of his pants and completed his task of cutting the shirt apart. He then forced Victor forward and away from the wall by putting his hand on the back of Vic's neck firmly. Walking behind Victor, he quickly cut the arms of the shirt with practiced efficiency so that it fell away, down to the ground, like a used Kleenex tossed carelessly away. Gant went back to stand in front of his captive again, this time reaching out and slicing off the top button Victor's jeans despite his protest. When his blade caught in the small square opening at the top of the zipper tab, Victor froze in horror, the thought of castration ran across his mind automatically. Luckily, Gant only used his knife to pull the brass teeth on his jeans apart slowly, one by one. When the last pair of teeth was separated, he pulled down both the agent's jeans and underwear in one motion. His hands were cold against the warm flesh of his hips, making Victor shiver in reaction. Victor shot Gant a dark scowling look of disapproval and was about to protest when the C.O pulled out his baton and before Victor could react, thrust the weapon in between the agent's legs, snuggly below his bare genitals. Victor sucked in his breath sharply and blurted out, "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Gant kept the stick where it was and pulled up on it slightly, causing Victor some pain and discomfort. "Shut up and do exactly as I say or I promise you won't make it out of this examining room in one piece. Got it?" To emphasize his words, he drew the cold wooden stick even further up, forcing Vic's balls up against his body. Victor found himself rising to his tiptoes in order to avoid the baton's unpleasant pressure against his balls. He grunted and glared but did not reply. All he could think about was if he wasn't chained down right now, he would beat Gant to a bloody pulp. Being in chains made him vulnerable, a position he did not like being in. All he wanted to do now was get this strip-search over with so he could get back to Mac and their pod. There was safety in numbers. However, despite his unease, he still didn't think the C.O was really intent on sexually assaulting him. He wanted to believe that the man was just trying to intimidate him, to make sure he knew who the top dog in the pound was. At least Victor hoped that Gant was only trying to intimidate him. Suddenly Gant pulled his baton out from between Victor's thighs and replaced it back on his belt. Victor sank back to flat feet in relief. He stared mutely at the guard, who by now was beginning to perspire. "Don't try anything stupid. I don't want to have to mess up your pretty face," Gant warned as he kneeled down and pulled off Victor's Nike Air runners and plain white tube socks. He reached up and grasp-ing both jeans and underwear, tugged them down until he had the material pooled around Victor's ankles. He left them there, and standing up, instructed Victor to step out of his clothes. Victor did as told, albeit reluctantly and with a grim set to his mouth. Without looking down, Gant then used one foot to sweep away the remains of Victor's street clothing The man stepped back and went over to the table again to pull out a pair of latex gloves from the box. He wordlessly pulled on the gloves before crossing back over to Victor. Victor was beginning to feel embarrassed about his state of undress. What the hell kind of game is he playing? Gant, on the other hand, liked what he saw, very much. The minute he had laid eyes on Victor, he knew this was where they would end up. He always got the new 'fish' first before they were broken and ruined by the other cons. Gant knew that both Smith and Jones would be the cause of countless fights between men vying for sexual favors from these two new and great-looking prisoners. He could've had both of them, but Victor Smith was more to his taste than Mac Jones. Jones was younger and prettier, but Smith had the kind of hard edge that Gant found hard to resist. And he loved stealing the hard edge from the eyes of guys like Vic. Not to mention the fact that Vic's big green eyes surrounded by all those dark lashes were damn sexy. When Gant finished his lewd appraisal of Victor, he went to stand at the side of Victor and grasped the man's head to begin the 'examination' for contraband. He tipped Victor's head to look closely in. He did this for first the right ear, then the left. Next he ran his fingers through Victor's very short hair, feeling for pins, razor blades or any one of the myriad of small metal pieces that convicts try to smuggle into the joint on any given day. When he was satisfied with the head examination, Gant began the body search by shoving his fingers in Vic's armpits and roughly digging them around the dark hair there. Though Gant could see that Victor didn't have enough chest hair to conceal so much as a bobby-pin, he nevertheless ran his fingers down the agent's chest and even brazenly running the palms of his hands over Victor's nipples purposely, making the small discs harden. Victor looked away in chagrin and tried to put his mind anywhere else but here in the room with this man. Gant then gave Victor a shove so that his back was once again against the cold, tiled wall. Crouching down, he looked up at Victor and smirked, "You never know where a con might try to hide things." With that he thrust his hand between Victor's legs and ran a gloved finger over his perineum before bringing his hand out to cup Victor's scrotum. Victor cringed in response. After making sure that Victor was not concealing anything underneath his balls and in his pubic hair, Gant felt up both of Victor's muscular legs. "Lift your foot," Gant commanded and Victor complied. The man examined the underside of both of Victor's feet. Satisfied, Gant stood up and reached into his uniform pocket to pull out a small penlight. Instructing Victor to "open wide", he shown the tiny bright light all around the inside of Victor's mouth, checking it thoroughly. Done with that, he shut the light off and re-pocketing it, stood and grabbed Victor harshly by the neck to pull him forward. Gant pulled out his baton again and tapped it in the palm of his left hand rhythmically as he slowly circled around Victor. "Let's see how your other orifice checks out!" Gant exclaimed suddenly, as he swung and struck Victor on the backs of his knees, adding another set of bruises to the ones that were already on his ribs and in the middle of his stomach. The blow caused Victor to buckle and fall as far as he could go to his knees. Though he tried to stop himself, he cried out in pain anyway. He was once again completely caught off guard and he was at loss as to what caused Gant to strike out at him like that out of the blue. As he knelt there bent over as far as the tether would allow and trying to get some air into his lungs, Gant grabbed a handful of Vic's hair and yanked him back up to a standing posi- tion. Victor couldn't help crying out again from the burst of pain he felt on his scalp. Victor felt a sharp slap on his lower back and then Gant's arm reaching around his hips to force him to bend over at the waist. He was forced to straighten his knees; the position was very uncomfortable for the backs of his knees were still throbbing from the blow. Kicking at Victor's ankles, Gant forced the agent's legs open so that his feet were about two feet apart. "Don't move," Gant growled into Victor's ear before walking away again. Victor had felt cold when he had first been forced to strip, but now his body felt hot and he was even sweating lightly as his legs and ankles felt like they were on fire. Victor's head was beginning to throb in time with the ache in his legs as he fought for balance he brought his eyes up to see what Gant was doing and saw that the man had put down his stick and was in the process of pulling on a new set of latex gloves. Even from where he was, Victor could see that Gant was sporting an erection. Oh shit. Not good! "What are you doing?" asked Victor weakly suddenly feeling very tired. Ignoring the other man's question, Gant removed his utility belt, placing the heavy leather on the table top, then he picked up a small tube of KY jelly and turned to show it to Victor. "I'm thinking, a guy like you probably have seen enough action so I don't think you'd be needing use of this." He raised his eyebrows at Victor and then dropped the tube back to the table top. "No way. Use it. Use the damn lube and get this goddamned body search over with." Victor was surprised at how calm his voice sounded even though he was at the point of panic underneath. The thought of feeling that bastard's finger in his ass made him downright nauseous. Gant poked at the tube with his finger but did not pick it up again. "Nah, I don't think you need it." He smiled cruelly at Victor but the agent was no longer looking at him. Turning back to the table, he dug around the box of latex gloves and found what he was searching for, a condom. He had concealed it amongst the gloves at the bottom of the box. He looked back at Victor as he dropped the small foil package into his breast pocket. He wanted Victor badly but at the same time, he was no fool; no matter how clean Victor looked, the guy could still have AIDS. Granted, his medical records did say he had tested negative, but Gant wanted to play it safe. His wife would have his balls if he came home with a case of the 'Clap', let alone a killer like AIDS. He draped a small white towel over his shoulder then walked behind Victor to admire his smooth, round ass. Gant loved it when he had a prisoner in his control this way. Sighing, he glanced quickly at his watch and saw that Walker would be back in another ten minutes or so. Better get on with it, he thought with a small degree of regret for he would've loved to admire Vic's ass a little longer. He knew this would probably be the last time he'll ever see them so perfect. Who knows what condition Vic or his ass would be in after the other prisoners were done with him. With a slow lick of his lips, he put his left hand on the small of Victor's back and without so much as a warning brutally pushed his forefinger into Victor's dry, virgin rectum. Victor howled in agony and tried to pull away from the probing digit which was beginning to thrust in and out of his anus, but his struggles were futile. The tether saw to that. Now Victor knew why Gant had wanted him restrained that way; not to make an attempt at escaping from the room impossible, but to make escape from Gant impossible. Mac stood in line unfettered and naked awaiting his turn to be checked. He started when he suddenly heard a scream. Though it was muffled by cement walls and steel doors, Mac knew immediately that it was coming from Victor. His heart was racing and the hairs stood up on his arms. Jesus. Victor, what the hell are they doing to you?, he thought frantically. All of a sudden he was very, very afraid for his partner. Gant laughed and pushed in another finger to go with the two that were already inside of Victor. He had long since determined that Victor was in fact clean of any illegal drugs and devises. He knew that the dry entry would be painful for his captive, but that only made his erection all the more harder. In fact, Victor's struggles turned him on more, confirming the fact that he was in total command of the whole situation. Victor fought to control his breathing and his body's reactions, thinking that this would be over soon. All he had to do was endure the disgusting and agonizing intrusion for just a little while more. To his extreme relief, the invading fingers were finally pulled away. Somewhere behind him he heard the sound of paper ripping. Confused, he was about to turn his head to see what was happening when to his total shock and horror, Commander Gant shoved his sheathed cock all the way into Victor's ass with one hard, deep, and brutal thrust. Victor screamed. The pain was so excruciating that Victor thought he was going to pass out. In fact, he was fervently hoping he would so that he would no longer have to feel the searing hot pain caused by the ripping of his tender tissue by Gant's barbaric and unrelenting cock. Victor heard someone screaming in time with Gant's thrust, and it took him a moment before he realized it was himself. No! I am not giving him the satisfaction. And with that, he bite into his lower lip hard, hard enough to draw a spurt of blood, to stop himself from screaming anymore. He couldn't help emitting slight grunts, but at least that was better than screaming. Gant grabbed a hold of Victor's shoulders and dug his fingers into the flesh. The man beneath him had since ceased to struggle and holler. He was so tight that Gant knew that he would be able to last more than a few seconds longer. He leaned over Victor's back and increased his pace. Then he leaned over further and did something he had never done to another felon: he bit the back of Victor's neck, hard. Not quite hard enough to break the skin, however, but hard enough to leave teethmarks and a bruise that would stay for a few days. Victor could feel every thrust as Gant pushed into him faster and faster; he could even feel the hot drops of sweat that poured off of Gant and landed on his back. He no longer had the strength or the will to keep fighting. Victor could feel the sweet sensation of blackness coming over him as he wanted nothing more than to fall into the darkness of oblivion. But before he could fully pass out Gant grunted his pleasure loudly and came. As soon as Gant was finished cumming he pulled out. He watched as Victor fell to his knees, unable to support his body any longer. Thoroughly satisified, Gant looked down at his cock and saw that he had a good deal of blood on his condom. Carefully, he peeled off the used latex and tied a knot in the end, tossing it into the trashcan that sat near the table. Gant used the towel that was draped on his shoulder to quickly wipe up some of the blood, mixed with semen, that stained Victor between his buttcheeks. Then he pulled up his pants and refastened his belt buckle. As he walked away from the kneeling man, who was oblivious to his surroundings; he peeled off his gloves and tossed them in the trash along with the towel. Gant straightened his uniform one last time before turning to look at Victor, who was beginning to pull himself up into a standing posi- tion in a very slow fashion. When he was upright, the agent leaned one bruised shoulder against the wall in order to support himself. Victor's mind was numb with shock. He couldn't believe that Gant had raped him. His brain couldn't accept it. Didn't want to accept it. His whole body suddenly felt very cold and he wanted to withdraw into himself completely until he no longer existed. Gant continued to watched Victor steadily. After a few minutes, he said in a light mocking tone, "I guess you were right. I should've used the lube." The lock clicked then and both heads in the room turned to see Walker come into the exam room. Gant refastened his belt and replaced his pepper spray, keys and baton on it and started to leave. But just before leaving the room, he turned around quickly to Victor one last time and said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, "I told you your ass was mine." He then walked out the door and shut it quietly behind himself. As soon as the bastard was out of the room, Victor's legs gave out and he slid to the floor in a daze. Walker shook his head contemp- tuously. "Man, are you weak. You've only been fucked once and you're already broken? You sure as hell aren't gonna last long in here," he taunted. It took a beat for the words to sink in, but when they did, Vic turned to Walker and glared at him, his eyes shooting daggers. Walker only laughed. "Hey, and I haven't even had a piece of you yet. Why don't you save your poison until I do?" With that, Walker walked over to the table to pick up Victor's new prison uniform and a small bag with the necessary toiletries. Victor's hard gaze never left Walker's face but the other man only chuckled in delight. He undid the harness that was holding Victor to the wall and grasping Victor's arm roughly, gave him a hard tug to make him stand up. "You think you're in trouble, wait 'til the other guys see your podmate," Walker said as they left the exam room. Part Four Mac and the rest of the chain gang were standing in a single file and facing a door that would take them to the large shower room for prisoners who were being processed. Mac stood at the end of the line of men, and in his arms he was holding his prison garb along with towels, a bar of soap and a razor. The men stood in silence, waiting impatiently for their turn in the shower. "What's the friggin' hold up? It's colder than my ex- wife's snatch in here! When are we goin' to the showers?" complained one of the two scruffy white guys. Officer Wang strolled over to the complainer and wrin kled his nose in disgust as soon as the stench emanating from the scraggy con hit him. "Jesus Christ! Gorman, you smell like garbage. When's the last time you saw a bar of soap?" Wang looked the man up and down and shook his head. "Never mind, I don't want to know. And you'll go to the showers when I say you can, so shut the hell up." Wang turned and walked away without waiting for a response, relieved that he was no longer breathing in the prisoner's rank odor. A few minutes later, the door that led to the other hallway clanged open. In walked Victor, naked with his head down and clutching his bundle of clothing and toiletries bag tightly to his chest. Mac turned his head to look as Walker, who had a tight hold on Victor's left arm, brought him across the room to stand in line behind Mac. The other convicts, who had turned to look at Victor when he came in, now turned their heads quickly back to look straight ahead. All the men knew to mind their own business; it was advice to live by in a place like Kensington. Mac, however, did not turn away; he stared wide-eyed at his partner, unable to take his eyes off of Victor and the abused shape his body was in. Victor had glanced up at Mac quickly when he came into the room, but other than, did not look Mac in the eye di- rectly. He couldn't bear to. Victor was sure that Mac only needed to take one look at him to guess what Gant had done to him during the search. He felt a burdening sense of shame and anger; anger that was directed at himself for getting into this situation and then letting that bastard rape him. His body ached all over, but it was nothing compared to the ache in his rectum which was mag- nified by the torment he felt in his mind. He didn't think that pain would ever go away; it would be a permanent reminder of what he had allowed another man to do to him. A reminder of his moment of disastrous weakness. Never. I am NEVER gonna let that happen to me again. In his line of work he was used to being shot at, even captured and confined, and on occasion beaten, but never did the scum that he dealt with on a daily basis try to do anything remotely close to what Gant had done. Victor bit down on his lip, which was still bleeding from earlier when he had bitten down on it, tasted the coppery blood and he swore to himself that he will kill anyone who would come near him from today on for as long as they were in here. And he would rip anyone's eyes out if they so much as mention the incident. "Alright, you assholes," Leary was saying, "Time to shower. Man, Gorman, you stink!" Somewhere in the line one of the other cons agreed with both guards' opinion by grumbling, "No kidding." With a grimace, Leary pulled his keys out to unlock the door to the shower room and waved the men in. Mac desperately wanted to turn around to take a better look at Victor, to talk to him but Wang, who was at the back end of the line, stated severely, "No talking in the ranks you shit heads, so shut up." As Victor went past Wang, the guard noted the bruises running up and down the left side of the agent's body and immediately recognized Walker's handiwork. He really did a number this time. He must have a thing for this guy, Wang thought and shook his head in sympathy. Wang and Leary waited on the other side of the only entrance to the large open shower room. Not so much as to give the men their privacy, but rather, neither guard wanted to get wet. And besides, they liked to sneak a smoke during showertime so they wouldn't have to wait for their coffee break. The shower room was large, about thirty feet in width and length with thirty long shower heads. There were no dividers to provide any kind of privacy for the inmates so the men who were podmates quickly paired up to take their showers together away from everyone else. Victor and Mac stood side by side, showering in an un- comfortable silence. Victor's silence was due to his inner turmoil while Mac's was due to the fact that he didn't quite know what to say. He didn't even know how to ask Victor what had happened even though he was dying to find out. While he pondered about it, Mac turned around to let some of the hot spray wash over his back. He watched the water from the showers swirl down the large drain hypnotically. Suddenly he saw the water change from clear to light red. Startled, he continued to stare down at the drain for a few more seconds before it finally registered in him that he was seeing blood mingled with water going down the drain. He knew it couldn't be any of the other four cons since they were too far away and he knew that the blood definitely wasn't coming from himself... Oh shit! It's Victors! As soon as the realization struck, Mac snapped his head up to look at Victor, only to find that Victor was watching him. He had been looking at Mac as he was watching the blood go down the drain. From the nasty scratches down his chest to the round purple bruise that circled his navel, the result of being hit with a baton, Victor was six feet of black and blue. Mac couldn't help but notice the purplish-red bruising along his partner's ribcage as well. Earlier, when Victor turned around to face the shower spray, Mac had caught a glimpse of the backs of Victor's knees and saw that they were also a nasty shade of violet, mottled with red and blue streaks. However, Mac didn't think the bruises or the small scratches down Victor's chest were the cause of the red run off, so what could it be? Then he noticed something else: there were several small bruises up and down Victor's thighs and buttocks which had small bleeding lacerations. The bruises looked like they could have been caused by fingers... Oh God Mac met Victor's eyes again. He had a sick feeling that something more than just a thorough strip search had taken place in that room with Gant. Mac saw a look of immense sadness flicker across Vic's eyes for just one split second before a mask of coolness and detachment settled over the other agent's features again. He continued to hold Vic- tor's eyes even though the other man was completely unreadable. Finally, Mac cleared his throat and whispered, "Victor, what- what happened to you in there?" At first, Mac didn't think Vic was going to reply; but after a long pause, the other man finally gave Mac a weak smile and replied, "I'm okay. Really. Ga-," Victor swallowed, "Gant just got a bit carried away with the c-cavity search is all." When he saw Mac glance at his ribcage, he added, "Wal- ker got a bit rough showing me who the 'real' boss was. And that fucking asshole Gant used a couple of more fingers than he needed to when he was searching my...ass for hidden objects." Victor shrugged his shoulders and tried to smile at Mac again, attempting to not only reassure his partner but also himself that he was indeed okay. "I'm fine, really, Mac. Gant, he...tore me up a bit but...that's all." As an afterthought, he added, "I'll live." "Gant!" Mac growled, "That bastard! I hope he's involved in all of this so I can have the pleasure of kicking his ass all over the Agency's interrogation room! I'll give HIM a cavity search!" Victor turned away quickly to maintain his deceivingly calm facade. As he started soaping up his short hair, he mumbled, "I hear ya, brother." Kensington was the newest prison in the country with state- of-the-art facilities. The entrance to the prison, which also served as an exit, was controlled by a fail-safe computer sys- tem with a built-in back-up system in case of a power failure. In addition, the 'main gate', as it was called, was monitored by four guards who were safely ensconced behind bullet proof glass. Each cell block had one control room which enabled the officers to monitor the whole block. The control room had ten monitors, each connected to a different camera that continuously recorded the movements of the population within any particular cell block. In addition, the control room guards also had to give permission to anyone who wanted to enter or leave the block since they o- perated the automatic lock on those doors. The guards that walked the blocks only had keys to the rooms within the block—even they could not enter or leave the block they were in without the guard in the control room granting access. As a result, the hacks maintaining peace inside the blocks were as much a prisoner as the inmates themselves. They basically had to rely on the men in the control room to get them out of harm's way should the need arise since they only carried a baton, cuffs, and zap straps. The actual artillery was kept locked up in the control room. Kensington consisted of five prison blocks, which was basically five buildings surrounding a large courtyard. Block A and B sat side by side on the north side of the property and housed felons whose crimes ranged from auto theft to multiple murders. The two blocks were connected to each other in two manners: underground, there were a series of service tunnels, corridors and hallways. The underground service tunnels and hallways were off-limits to the inmates; only guards and other employees of the prison were allowed to use them. The corridors were open to the inmates; the men were allowed to come and go through these corridors without requiring permission since they were connected to the various work stations, the weight room, gym, and library. Basically, almost every- thing was undeground save for the cafeteria, kitchen, and a lounge for the smokers since smoking was not allowed anywhere else. As a result of this arrangement, the underground walkways were a maze of storage closets, serviceways, and locked doors. Block A and B was also connected on the first floor by a common cafeteria and kitchen which took up half the length between the two buildings. Behind the cafeteria and facing the courtyard was a fenced area with basketball courts set up for the inmates of the two blocks. Due to the volume of inmates and in an effort to cut down on gang affiliations and activity, both blocks, each level was assigned a specific time to be outside in the courtyard. C Block, which was on the east side, was a building standing unto its own. It consisted of two floors of solitary cells, three-fourths of which was currently occupied by inmates who were sentenced as either a punishment for unruly behavior or for their own safety. If a convict 'ratted' out another convict, he would usually end up in a cell all alone in C block for his safety. All meals for the inmates of C block were cooked on-site in a small kitchen by a company contracted from the outside by the prison. This was done to eliminate any chances of vengeful inmates tampering the food. D Block held the sexual deviants and rapists. They had to be kept segregated from the rest of the regular population for their own protection. Past experience from other prisons taught the administrators of Kensington to segregate the sexual deviants since they usually didn't live very long. Child molesters es- pecially, would get beaten to death after only a week in prison. So to prevent lawsuits and filing reports, the planners of Ken- sington decided to let the sexual deviants and rapists have their own block completely. Finally, E Block housed the criminally insane. It was a secure psychiatric ward with qualified psychiatrists and doctors to look after the inmates. E block sat on the west side, sur- rounded by large chain-linked, razor-wire topped fence. It was also a block with it's entire own facilities including the same company cooking it's residents meals too. Even their guards were trained physciatric nurses. Mac and Vic were assigned to Block B. Even though the two buildings were joined, the men in A and B blocks rarely got to interact with one another since recreation and meal times were scheduled so that the two different blocks were never together at the same time. There were sixty-four pods on each level of Block B; the pods were split evenly down the middle by a walkway so that there were thirty-two pods on each side. At the moment, all the prisoners were standing in front of their pods waiting for the after-lunch headcount to end before moving off to their individual duties or recreational activities for the afternoon. Wang had the guard in the control room buzz open the main doors and then directed the newcomers into Block B. All of the men in the group looked around at their new environment. Mac was amazed at the low hum that was vibrating throughout the whole place. The prison in Hong Kong had been noisy as hell; the inmates were especially excited when new blood was coming in. But compared to here, this place was as quiet as a tomb. The inmates were just talking amongst themselves and at a relatively discreet sound level at that. The room itself looked sunny and strangely cheerful due to the large, very thick paned windows at the end of the walkway. Mac's expectations of what it would be like coming in here were beginning to go way off the mark of what he had envisioned. The prison in Hong Kong was a dark and dingy little craphole compared to here. To Victor the place sounded like the world's largest bee- hive. Victor was in awe at the shear volume of people in such a small space while impressed at the same time by how controlled they seem to be. The men were given their pod numbers and then instructed to follow Wang. He pointed each pair to their pods. During this time, an eerie hush had come over the block as the inmates finally noticed the newcomers and focused all their attention on them. When the last pair before Victor and Mac were shown their pod, and as if on cue, a barrage of cat calls aimed entirely at the two agents began. "Ooohh eee! Fresh Fish!" someone yelled, it was followed by a string of kissing and obscene smacking noises, mixed in with the standard wolf whistles. Victor's cheeks reddened slightly as his brain began picking out the various catcalls and taunts being yelled out to Mac and himself. He heard someone close by shout out, "Hey baby green eyes, need a daddy?" He tried to maintain a tight control over his emotions,he was extremely uncomfortable with all the shouting that was directed towards him. Still, he held his head high and found that anger and resentment was slowly bubbling to the surface, replacing the discomfort he felt. It was all he could do to not give into the rage of being on display. Victor wanted to know how Mac was doing, so he hurried and fell into step beside his partner. He glanced over at his partner and saw that Mac's face was barely reacting to the shouting and whistling at all; the only thing to give him away was the slight pink tinge to his ears. Victor heard another taunt, "Lamb chops for dinner tonight, gonna eat me two of them!" He looked at Mac, who apparently, had heard it too. Mac smiled reassuringly at Victor and whispered out of the side of his mouth, "It's almost over." In reality, it had only taken the men less than one minute to walk the long stroll to their pod, had felt like a life time to Victor. He was not use to this at all, he had never actually been in with the regular prison crowd during the brief time that he had been incarcerated. Wang unlocked their pod and the men hurriedly followed him in. He had to close the door in order for his instructions to be heard; the shouting was that loud. As he began to speak, a buzzer went off, signaling the end of the headcount, and the main doors that lead to the various work and recreational areas were unlocked. The rowdy B Block population began to slowly file out of the living area, making it possible for Wang to speak in a normal voice. "If I were you two, I'd be careful about walking around alone for awhile...," he said with a smirk as he glanced over his shoulder at some of the cons who were still standing out- side of their pods and staring in at them. He turned back to the men and added, "I have a feeling you'll be the favorite...ah...targets for some of the more aggressive guys in here. Don't worry though, that will probably change as soon as someone transfers out some new guys come in." He yelled at the lingering inmates to move on before turn- ing back to the two men and continuing, "Here's your rules sheet and rights book." He handed both Mac and Vic sheets of paper and a thin pocket size booklet. "Read 'em and learn 'em both." At the sight of the rights book, Victor wanted to laugh out loud. After what happened to him, he knew that booklet had no real meaning in a place like Kensington. It was all just a bunch of bullshit. Smoke and mirrors. But instead of saying anything, he simply gripped the booklet tight and took a deep breath con- trolling his emotions. Wang flipped a page on his clipboard and then said to the men, "Smith you've been assigned to the library." Victor turned and raised his eyebrows at Mac as if to say Lucky me. "Jones you will be working in the kitchen." "What?" interjected Mac, "The kitchen? I don't know the first thing about cooking." Mac scowled at Victor who was holding back the first genuine laugh he felt like having in this hellhole. "Shut up," Wang said mildly. "We have cooks, Jones. You'll only be helping out with the prep work and clean-up. Sort of a glorified busboy. You're actually replacing the last guy who dis—" Wang hesitated and thought about it for a beat before amending his words with, "...who was granted an early release." He cleared his throat and then continued, "Supper's at six sharp. Meanwhile, you can stay in here and get to know the rules and regs. There's a map in there of the place so you know where to go. Tomorrow morning you can start your duties at nine in the morning." He handed each man another piece of paper. "Here's your time schedule with a description of your duties and the name of the trustee you need to report to at the top of the page." With that said Wang turned and exited the pod. The minute Wang left, Mac turned to Victor and said angrily, "How come I've got to work in the kitchen? Huh! Can you tell me that? Grunt work...." "Mac...." Victor, finally finding some humour in the day, was trying not to laugh at his partner. "She hates me Vic, I'm telling ya, her and Dobrinski. They cooked this up, they're out to get me, I swear...." "Mac, listen to me will ya? Calm down." Mac who was pacing across the small room stopped and looked at Victor, "What?" he huffed. Victor wanted to say he was sure that the Director probably really didn't have a whole lot of control over what was happening to them here; it was obvious, considering his very unpleasant experience with Gant earlier that morning. But then he thought better of it since he knew that would lead to questions about what DID happen to him so he decided to say instead, "Now listen. We were placed according to our dossiers. Remember? The Director probably padded my sheet hoping they would put me in the library, so I could try to uncover any paper trail to the four missing men. You know, scope out any connections with the guards or other personnel working when the men went missing. Besides, everyone knows that I'm way better with a computer than you are. She no doubt made your paper work look like you would be best in the kitchen because that's where three of the guys who are missing were detailed, including Joseph Carter, the last guy. "Also, since you're closer in age to the missing cons than I am, she probably thought you could serve you up as bait, or attempt ot atleast. The guys who are in on the disappearances might try to contact you use you're in your mid-twenties like the other three." Mac stared dubiously at Victor but eventually he realized the logic behind the placing. "All right. " Mac said amicably. "But who says you're better on computer?" "Ohhh, just 'bout everybody," Victor teased. "Bullshit." Victor smiled at Mac and then handed him the sheet with the in-house rules of what they were not allowed to do. "Here," he said, "Read this and I'll go over the prisoner's rights manual." Reminded then of what Gant had done to him earlier, he stopped smiling immediately. In an effort to disperse the disturbing images from his thoughts, he asked Mac, "You a top or bottom man?" "What?" Mac mumbled before he realized that Victor's unin- tentional double entendre`. He blushed faintly but managed to collect himself. "I said, do you want the top bunk or the bottom; either way, I don't care." "Ohh, yeah. Um, I'll take the bottom if you don't mind." Mac replied. "Okay." Victor made his bed up quickly and climbed on top of his bunk. He picked up the manual and tried to read it, but still could not keep his thoughts from wandering back to Gant and the rape. The more he thought about it the more dis- tressed he felt. He could hear Mac below him trying to settle in on his bunk and somehow he was calmed by the thought that if he and Mac could just stick together then everything else should be okay. Of course it would be difficult to do during their library and kitchen duties, but he was prepared to fight to kill anyone who got too close to him. Not that he was expecting much trouble anyway since the library didn't exactly strike him as the hotbed for perversion. He hoped Mac could take care of himself too when he wasn't around. Before long, Victor's eyes began to grow heavy and before he knew it, he was sleeping a restless slumber and dreaming unpleasant visions of Gant, Walker, and the violation he went through. Mac put down the sheet he had been reading and studied the bunk above him. He could tell by Victor's regular, even breathing that he had fallen asleep. As he watched the mattress above him shift with Victor's restlessness, Mac wondered again what was bothering him. He knew that Victor was more bothered by the rough strip search than he had let on. The casual dis- missal of the event did not fool Mac at all; something else must have happened. He had an idea about what did; after all, he had grown up on the streets and had even been an prisoner himself before. He knew how the world worked. He had a feeling Vic probably didn't even encounter any problems during his brief prison stint, like he would here, so the entire experience of being 'paraded' to their pod no doubt came as a horrible shock to Victor. Mac hoped Victor could find the strength within himself to deal with it. He knew that no matter what he tried to say to make Victor feel better, in the end, it was still going to be up to Victor to mend himself. Mac closed his eyes and began to slowly drift off himself. As he slipped into his dreams, the image of Victor standing naked in the showers next to him popped into his head and he was not at all surprised to feel his body rewarding him with a very sizable erection. Part Five Mac and the rest of the chain gang were standing in a single file and facing a door that would take them to the large shower room for prisoners who were being processed. Mac stood at the end of the line of men, and in his arms he was holding his prison garb along with towels, a bar of soap and a razor. The men stood in silence, waiting impatiently for their turn in the shower. "What's the friggin' hold up? It's colder than my ex- wife's snatch in here! When are we goin' to the showers?" complained one of the two scruffy white guys. Officer Wang strolled over to the complainer and wrin kled his nose in disgust as soon as the stench emanating from the scraggy con hit him. "Jesus Christ! Gorman, you smell like garbage. When's the last time you saw a bar of soap?" Wang looked the man up and down and shook his head. "Never mind, I don't want to know. And you'll go to the showers when I say you can, so shut the hell up." Wang turned and walked away without waiting for a response, relieved that he was no longer breathing in the prisoner's rank odor. A few minutes later, the door that led to the other hallway clanged open. In walked Victor, naked with his head down and clutching his bundle of clothing and toiletries bag tightly to his chest. Mac turned his head to look as Walker, who had a tight hold on Victor's left arm, brought him across the room to stand in line behind Mac. The other convicts, who had turned to look at Victor when he came in, now turned their heads quickly back to look straight ahead. All the men knew to mind their own business; it was advice to live by in a place like Kensington. Mac, however, did not turn away; he stared wide-eyed at his partner, unable to take his eyes off of Victor and the abused shape his body was in. Victor had glanced up at Mac quickly when he came into the room, but other than, did not look Mac in the eye di- rectly. He couldn't bear to. Victor was sure that Mac only needed to take one look at him to guess what Gant had done to him during the search. He felt a burdening sense of shame and anger; anger that was directed at himself for getting into this situation and then letting that bastard rape him. His body ached all over, but it was nothing compared to the ache in his rectum which was mag- nified by the torment he felt in his mind. He didn't think that pain would ever go away; it would be a permanent reminder of what he had allowed another man to do to him. A reminder of his moment of disastrous weakness. Never. I am NEVER gonna let that happen to me again. In his line of work he was used to being shot at, even captured and confined, and on occasion beaten, but never did the scum that he dealt with on a daily basis try to do anything remotely close to what Gant had done. Victor bit down on his lip, which was still bleeding from earlier when he had bitten down on it, tasted the coppery blood and he swore to himself that he will kill anyone who would come near him from today on for as long as they were in here. And he would rip anyone's eyes out if they so much as mention the incident. "Alright, you assholes," Leary was saying, "Time to shower. Man, Gorman, you stink!" Somewhere in the line one of the other cons agreed with both guards' opinion by grumbling, "No kidding." With a grimace, Leary pulled his keys out to unlock the door to the shower room and waved the men in. Mac desperately wanted to turn around to take a better look at Victor, to talk to him but Wang, who was at the back end of the line, stated severely, "No talking in the ranks you shit heads, so shut up." As Victor went past Wang, the guard noted the bruises running up and down the left side of the agent's body and immediately recognized Walker's handiwork. He really did a number this time. He must have a thing for this guy, Wang thought and shook his head in sympathy. Wang and Leary waited on the other side of the only entrance to the large open shower room. Not so much as to give the men their privacy, but rather, neither guard wanted to get wet. And besides, they liked to sneak a smoke during showertime so they wouldn't have to wait for their coffee break. The shower room was large, about thirty feet in width and length with thirty long shower heads. There were no dividers to provide any kind of privacy for the inmates so the men who were podmates quickly paired up to take their showers together away from everyone else. Victor and Mac stood side by side, showering in an un- comfortable silence. Victor's silence was due to his inner turmoil while Mac's was due to the fact that he didn't quite know what to say. He didn't even know how to ask Victor what had happened even though he was dying to find out. While he pondered about it, Mac turned around to let some of the hot spray wash over his back. He watched the water from the showers swirl down the large drain hypnotically. Suddenly he saw the water change from clear to light red. Startled, he continued to stare down at the drain for a few more seconds before it finally registered in him that he was seeing blood mingled with water going down the drain. He knew it couldn't be any of the other four cons since they were too far away and he knew that the blood definitely wasn't coming from himself... Oh shit! It's Victors! As soon as the realization struck, Mac snapped his head up to look at Victor, only to find that Victor was watching him. He had been looking at Mac as he was watching the blood go down the drain. From the nasty scratches down his chest to the round purple bruise that circled his navel, the result of being hit with a baton, Victor was six feet of black and blue. Mac couldn't help but notice the purplish-red bruising along his partner's ribcage as well. Earlier, when Victor turned around to face the shower spray, Mac had caught a glimpse of the backs of Victor's knees and saw that they were also a nasty shade of violet, mottled with red and blue streaks. However, Mac didn't think the bruises or the small scratches down Victor's chest were the cause of the red run off, so what could it be? Then he noticed something else: there were several small bruises up and down Victor's thighs and buttocks which had small bleeding lacerations. The bruises looked like they could have been caused by fingers... Oh God Mac met Victor's eyes again. He had a sick feeling that something more than just a thorough strip search had taken place in that room with Gant. Mac saw a look of immense sadness flicker across Vic's eyes for just one split second before a mask of coolness and detachment settled over the other agent's features again. He continued to hold Vic- tor's eyes even though the other man was completely unreadable. Finally, Mac cleared his throat and whispered, "Victor, what- what happened to you in there?" At first, Mac didn't think Vic was going to reply; but after a long pause, the other man finally gave Mac a weak smile and replied, "I'm okay. Really. Ga-," Victor swallowed, "Gant just got a bit carried away with the c-cavity search is all." When he saw Mac glance at his ribcage, he added, "Wal- ker got a bit rough showing me who the 'real' boss was. And that fucking asshole Gant used a couple of more fingers than he needed to when he was searching my...ass for hidden objects." Victor shrugged his shoulders and tried to smile at Mac again, attempting to not only reassure his partner but also himself that he was indeed okay. "I'm fine, really, Mac. Gant, he...tore me up a bit but...that's all." As an afterthought, he added, "I'll live." "Gant!" Mac growled, "That bastard! I hope he's involved in all of this so I can have the pleasure of kicking his ass all over the Agency's interrogation room! I'll give HIM a cavity search!" Victor turned away quickly to maintain his deceivingly calm facade. As he started soaping up his short hair, he mumbled, "I hear ya, brother." Kensington was the newest prison in the country with state- of-the-art facilities. The entrance to the prison, which also served as an exit, was controlled by a fail-safe computer sys- tem with a built-in back-up system in case of a power failure. In addition, the 'main gate', as it was called, was monitored by four guards who were safely ensconced behind bullet proof glass. Each cell block had one control room which enabled the officers to monitor the whole block. The control room had ten monitors, each connected to a different camera that continuously recorded the movements of the population within any particular cell block. In addition, the control room guards also had to give permission to anyone who wanted to enter or leave the block since they o- perated the automatic lock on those doors. The guards that walked the blocks only had keys to the rooms within the block—even they could not enter or leave the block they were in without the guard in the control room granting access. As a result, the hacks maintaining peace inside the blocks were as much a prisoner as the inmates themselves. They basically had to rely on the men in the control room to get them out of harm's way should the need arise since they only carried a baton, cuffs, and zap straps. The actual artillery was kept locked up in the control room. Kensington consisted of five prison blocks, which was basically five buildings surrounding a large courtyard. Block A and B sat side by side on the north side of the property and housed felons whose crimes ranged from auto theft to multiple murders. The two blocks were connected to each other in two manners: underground, there were a series of service tunnels, corridors and hallways. The underground service tunnels and hallways were off-limits to the inmates; only guards and other employees of the prison were allowed to use them. The corridors were open to the inmates; the men were allowed to come and go through these corridors without requiring permission since they were connected to the various work stations, the weight room, gym, and library. Basically, almost every- thing was undeground save for the cafeteria, kitchen, and a lounge for the smokers since smoking was not allowed anywhere else. As a result of this arrangement, the underground walkways were a maze of storage closets, serviceways, and locked doors. Block A and B was also connected on the first floor by a common cafeteria and kitchen which took up half the length between the two buildings. Behind the cafeteria and facing the courtyard was a fenced area with basketball courts set up for the inmates of the two blocks. Due to the volume of inmates and in an effort to cut down on gang affiliations and activity, both blocks, each level was assigned a specific time to be outside in the courtyard. C Block, which was on the east side, was a building standing unto its own. It consisted of two floors of solitary cells, three-fourths of which was currently occupied by inmates who were sentenced as either a punishment for unruly behavior or for their own safety. If a convict 'ratted' out another convict, he would usually end up in a cell all alone in C block for his safety. All meals for the inmates of C block were cooked on-site in a small kitchen by a company contracted from the outside by the prison. This was done to eliminate any chances of vengeful inmates tampering the food. D Block held the sexual deviants and rapists. They had to be kept segregated from the rest of the regular population for their own protection. Past experience from other prisons taught the administrators of Kensington to segregate the sexual deviants since they usually didn't live very long. Child molesters es- pecially, would get beaten to death after only a week in prison. So to prevent lawsuits and filing reports, the planners of Ken- sington decided to let the sexual deviants and rapists have their own block completely. Finally, E Block housed the criminally insane. It was a secure psychiatric ward with qualified psychiatrists and doctors to look after the inmates. E block sat on the west side, sur- rounded by large chain-linked, razor-wire topped fence. It was also a block with it's entire own facilities including the same company cooking it's residents meals too. Even their guards were trained physciatric nurses. Mac and Vic were assigned to Block B. Even though the two buildings were joined, the men in A and B blocks rarely got to interact with one another since recreation and meal times were scheduled so that the two different blocks were never together at the same time. There were sixty-four pods on each level of Block B; the pods were split evenly down the middle by a walkway so that there were thirty-two pods on each side. At the moment, all the prisoners were standing in front of their pods waiting for the after-lunch headcount to end before moving off to their individual duties or recreational activities for the afternoon. Wang had the guard in the control room buzz open the main doors and then directed the newcomers into Block B. All of the men in the group looked around at their new environment. Mac was amazed at the low hum that was vibrating throughout the whole place. The prison in Hong Kong had been noisy as hell; the inmates were especially excited when new blood was coming in. But compared to here, this place was as quiet as a tomb. The inmates were just talking amongst themselves and at a relatively discreet sound level at that. The room itself looked sunny and strangely cheerful due to the large, very thick paned windows at the end of the walkway. Mac's expectations of what it would be like coming in here were beginning to go way off the mark of what he had envisioned. The prison in Hong Kong was a dark and dingy little craphole compared to here. To Victor the place sounded like the world's largest bee- hive. Victor was in awe at the shear volume of people in such a small space while impressed at the same time by how controlled they seem to be. The men were given their pod numbers and then instructed to follow Wang. He pointed each pair to their pods. During this time, an eerie hush had come over the block as the inmates finally noticed the newcomers and focused all their attention on them. When the last pair before Victor and Mac were shown their pod, and as if on cue, a barrage of cat calls aimed entirely at the two agents began. "Ooohh eee! Fresh Fish!" someone yelled, it was followed by a string of kissing and obscene smacking noises, mixed in with the standard wolf whistles. Victor's cheeks reddened slightly as his brain began picking out the various catcalls and taunts being yelled out to Mac and himself. He heard someone close by shout out, "Hey baby green eyes, need a daddy?" He tried to maintain a tight control over his emotions,he was extremely uncomfortable with all the shouting that was directed towards him. Still, he held his head high and found that anger and resentment was slowly bubbling to the surface, replacing the discomfort he felt. It was all he could do to not give into the rage of being on display. Victor wanted to know how Mac was doing, so he hurried and fell into step beside his partner. He glanced over at his partner and saw that Mac's face was barely reacting to the shouting and whistling at all; the only thing to give him away was the slight pink tinge to his ears. Victor heard another taunt, "Lamb chops for dinner tonight, gonna eat me two of them!" He looked at Mac, who apparently, had heard it too. Mac smiled reassuringly at Victor and whispered out of the side of his mouth, "It's almost over." In reality, it had only taken the men less than one minute to walk the long stroll to their pod, had felt like a life time to Victor. He was not use to this at all, he had never actually been in with the regular prison crowd during the brief time that he had been incarcerated. Wang unlocked their pod and the men hurriedly followed him in. He had to close the door in order for his instructions to be heard; the shouting was that loud. As he began to speak, a buzzer went off, signaling the end of the headcount, and the main doors that lead to the various work and recreational areas were unlocked. The rowdy B Block population began to slowly file out of the living area, making it possible for Wang to speak in a normal voice. "If I were you two, I'd be careful about walking around alone for awhile...," he said with a smirk as he glanced over his shoulder at some of the cons who were still standing out- side of their pods and staring in at them. He turned back to the men and added, "I have a feeling you'll be the favorite...ah...targets for some of the more aggressive guys in here. Don't worry though, that will probably change as soon as someone transfers out some new guys come in." He yelled at the lingering inmates to move on before turn- ing back to the two men and continuing, "Here's your rules sheet and rights book." He handed both Mac and Vic sheets of paper and a thin pocket size booklet. "Read 'em and learn 'em both." At the sight of the rights book, Victor wanted to laugh out loud. After what happened to him, he knew that booklet had no real meaning in a place like Kensington. It was all just a bunch of bullshit. Smoke and mirrors. But instead of saying anything, he simply gripped the booklet tight and took a deep breath con- trolling his emotions. Wang flipped a page on his clipboard and then said to the men, "Smith you've been assigned to the library." Victor turned and raised his eyebrows at Mac as if to say Lucky me. "Jones you will be working in the kitchen." "What?" interjected Mac, "The kitchen? I don't know the first thing about cooking." Mac scowled at Victor who was holding back the first genuine laugh he felt like having in this hellhole. "Shut up," Wang said mildly. "We have cooks, Jones. You'll only be helping out with the prep work and clean-up. Sort of a glorified busboy. You're actually replacing the last guy who dis—" Wang hesitated and thought about it for a beat before amending his words with, "...who was granted an early release." He cleared his throat and then continued, "Supper's at six sharp. Meanwhile, you can stay in here and get to know the rules and regs. There's a map in there of the place so you know where to go. Tomorrow morning you can start your duties at nine in the morning." He handed each man another piece of paper. "Here's your time schedule with a description of your duties and the name of the trustee you need to report to at the top of the page." With that said Wang turned and exited the pod. The minute Wang left, Mac turned to Victor and said angrily, "How come I've got to work in the kitchen? Huh! Can you tell me that? Grunt work...." "Mac...." Victor, finally finding some humour in the day, was trying not to laugh at his partner. "She hates me Vic, I'm telling ya, her and Dobrinski. They cooked this up, they're out to get me, I swear...." "Mac, listen to me will ya? Calm down." Mac who was pacing across the small room stopped and looked at Victor, "What?" he huffed. Victor wanted to say he was sure that the Director probably really didn't have a whole lot of control over what was happening to them here; it was obvious, considering his very unpleasant experience with Gant earlier that morning. But then he thought better of it since he knew that would lead to questions about what DID happen to him so he decided to say instead, "Now listen. We were placed according to our dossiers. Remember? The Director probably padded my sheet hoping they would put me in the library, so I could try to uncover any paper trail to the four missing men. You know, scope out any connections with the guards or other personnel working when the men went missing. Besides, everyone knows that I'm way better with a computer than you are. She no doubt made your paper work look like you would be best in the kitchen because that's where three of the guys who are missing were detailed, including Joseph Carter, the last guy. "Also, since you're closer in age to the missing cons than I am, she probably thought you could serve you up as bait, or attempt ot atleast. The guys who are in on the disappearances might try to contact you use you're in your mid-twenties like the other three." Mac stared dubiously at Victor but eventually he realized the logic behind the placing. "All right. " Mac said amicably. "But who says you're better on computer?" "Ohhh, just 'bout everybody," Victor teased. "Bullshit." Victor smiled at Mac and then handed him the sheet with the in-house rules of what they were not allowed to do. "Here," he said, "Read this and I'll go over the prisoner's rights manual." Reminded then of what Gant had done to him earlier, he stopped smiling immediately. In an effort to disperse the disturbing images from his thoughts, he asked Mac, "You a top or bottom man?" "What?" Mac mumbled before he realized that Victor's unin- tentional double entendre`. He blushed faintly but managed to collect himself. "I said, do you want the top bunk or the bottom; either way, I don't care." "Ohh, yeah. Um, I'll take the bottom if you don't mind." Mac replied. "Okay." Victor made his bed up quickly and climbed on top of his bunk. He picked up the manual and tried to read it, but still could not keep his thoughts from wandering back to Gant and the rape. The more he thought about it the more dis- tressed he felt. He could hear Mac below him trying to settle in on his bunk and somehow he was calmed by the thought that if he and Mac could just stick together then everything else should be okay. Of course it would be difficult to do during their library and kitchen duties, but he was prepared to fight to kill anyone who got too close to him. Not that he was expecting much trouble anyway since the library didn't exactly strike him as the hotbed for perversion. He hoped Mac could take care of himself too when he wasn't around. Before long, Victor's eyes began to grow heavy and before he knew it, he was sleeping a restless slumber and dreaming unpleasant visions of Gant, Walker, and the violation he went through. Mac put down the sheet he had been reading and studied the bunk above him. He could tell by Victor's regular, even breathing that he had fallen asleep. As he watched the mattress above him shift with Victor's restlessness, Mac wondered again what was bothering him. He knew that Victor was more bothered by the rough strip search than he had let on. The casual dis- missal of the event did not fool Mac at all; something else must have happened. He had an idea about what did; after all, he had grown up on the streets and had even been an prisoner himself before. He knew how the world worked. He had a feeling Vic probably didn't even encounter any problems during his brief prison stint, like he would here, so the entire experience of being 'paraded' to their pod no doubt came as a horrible shock to Victor. Mac hoped Victor could find the strength within himself to deal with it. He knew that no matter what he tried to say to make Victor feel better, in the end, it was still going to be up to Victor to mend himself. Mac closed his eyes and began to slowly drift off himself. As he slipped into his dreams, the image of Victor standing naked in the showers next to him popped into his head and he was not at all surprised to feel his body rewarding him with a very sizable erection. Hard Time Parts Six – Ten pansy64@hotmail.com

This is the latest serial effort on my part and based upon the characters Victor Mansfield and Mac Ramsey of 'John Woo's, Once a Thief' fame. The continuing story takes place in a fictional Canadian Prison, and the content of the following chapters is very dark and gritty. This serial contains graphic descriptions of non-consensual sexual as well as consensual sexual situations between two men. This series was inspired by the heavy duty prison drama: OZ which can be seen on Showcase Friday nights in Canada and on HBO in the U.S.A. This is all slash fiction therefore no one under the age of 18 should be reading this stuff. No infringement on any copyrights held is intended. No profit was made off of the following bodies of work, which was written solely for entertainment purposes only. Thanks to Sickleweed for beta-reading parts 1-8. Any and all errors made in the chapters following, starting with part 9, are purely my own... DEMI-X back to top

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