Chase couldn't help but feel nervous as she entered Otsego County Women's Correctional. Maybe it was the guard towers. Maybe it was the twelve-foot tall fence around its perimeter, sunlight glinting off the coils of razor wire which topped it. Maybe it was the armed guards who came to escort she and Andrea inside as soon as they passed through the front gate. And then there were the handcuffs. These made her very wary indeed. As a fighter, she would have liked to have her hands free when going into an unknown situation, but as it was, if push came to shove her abilities would be very limited.
She knew she should be excited. She was starting her new life. She was going to meet people like her. That was what Andrea had said. And yet, nothing she saw suggested this was a place she should be glad to enter. She gripped the handle of her suitcase with both hands, her handcuffs giving her no choice but to carry it in front of her body.
“Cheer up, Chase,” said Andrea, after they passed the first security checkpoint. Her false credentials had held up to scrutiny, as she knew they would. Now, they walked down a wide hallway, on a linoleum floor. It reminded Chase of the halls of Sunnycrest High. “It's not like you to look so down. You want to make a good first impression on your new friends, don't you?”
Chase forced a weak smile. “Yes, but...”
“I'm envious of you,” said Andrea kindly. “You're going to have so much fun.”
This helped to lift Chase up a little bit. Her smile became slightly more genuine. “Thanks, mom miss.”
A middle-aged, square-shouldered man in a suit rounded the corner up ahead, at the end of the hallway. Seeing them, a stern look crossed his face. As he approached, an equivalently cheery look crossed Andrea's.
“You must be the warden here,” said Andrea, as their paths met. She extended her hand to shake. “A pleasure.”
He didn't take it. “And you are?” grumbled the man.
“Andrea Lao-Kepler. FBI.”
“Ah. FBI. Of course you are.” Her hand didn't waver. Eventually, the warden shook it with displeasure. “Jacobs.”
Chase remembered what Andrea said about good first impressions. “Hi!” she said cheerfully. “Am Chase!”
“Hrm,” the warden grunted in reply. He looked at Andrea. “I'd like a word with you, if you don't mind.”
“I thought you might.”
To the guards, the warden growled, “She's to be taken to H-Block.”
The guards exchanged a surprised glance, then looked back at the warden. “H-Block?” asked one of them.
“That's what I said, isn't it?”
It was, and so the guards led Chase onward down the hallway. As they did, Chase looked back over her shoulder at Cha. Andrea gave her a smile and a reassuring nod. “See you soon, okay, Chase?”
Chase looked worried, but she said, “Okay, mom miss,” before being shepherded around the corner.
Once they were alone, the warden led Andrea away in the opposite direction, toward his office.
“Sorry to drop another prisoner in your lap like this,” she said. “I hope you don't intend to shoot the delivery woman.”
The warden held his hands behind his back as he walked alongside her. “I do wish I'd have had some advance notice that a transfer would be made.”
“Unfortunately, the prisoner's transport required a level of discretion which precluded that possibility,” Andrea replied. “Your most recent population reports indicate you do have room for her, correct?”
“It's not space that's an issue,” said the warden. “I just wish you government spooks didn't have to be so secretive. We're on the same side here, you know.”
“Oh, I agree. I wish I could tell you. I'm sure it's quite frustrating to be kept in the dark.”
“I suppose you can't tell me what she did, either?” asked the warden.
“I'm afraid that's also confidential,”
“Terrorism? Espionage?”
He was watching Andrea closely for signs of recognition. Andrea smiled, knowing it wouldn't get him anywhere. “Just know that this one is a very special case.”
They reached the warden's office and stepped inside. It was the most hospitable room Andrea had seen yet, but it still had a hardness to it that suited its primary occupant. A shelf of law books, a hard oak desk. The guest chairs were thin cushions on metal rod frames, and his own chair was high-backed and made of ominous black leather. A calendar served as the only wall decoration.
“Most of the girls in H-Block are,” the man replied, sitting down at his desk. He gestured to one of the guest chairs, which were up against the wall. Andrea pulled one up to the other side of his desk and sat down. “Still though, they don't typically come with their own handlers.”
“My higher-ups felt that my...familiarity with the prisoner's case would be an asset to you. An invaluable one. And, well, this IS a federal facility, you know.”
“I know. I know. I'm not in a position to protest,” he said. “And I'm used to feds and all kinds of Washington creeps snooping around here. Especially H-Block.”
“Then what did you want to talk about?”
“Just tell me what we've got on our hands here. What my men are dealing with.”
Andrea considered this request. She supposed it was fair enough. “She's really rather nice. I think your men will find her very agreeable. However, she's tough. Very tough. If she gets it in her mind to escape, she could be a flight risk.”
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The warden laughed. “No one's ever escaped from here.”
“No, and I'm sure we'd all like that streak to remain unbroken,” said Andrea pointedly.
Warden Jacobs stared at her in disbelief. “You're serious, aren't you? You think she could stage a breakout?”
“It's like I said. I think she's a very special case.” Andrea looked at her nails nonchalantly. “That's partly why it's important that I stay here. As long as I'm around, she shouldn't create too many problems. I have a way with her, you see.”
Warden Jacobs frowned. “I'm sure you do,” he said bitterly. “Anything else you're at liberty to tell me about this freak you've dropped in my lap?”
Andrea gave a coy smile. “Sure. Keep her fed.”
.........
Chase was led to a second security checkpoint, where two new guards were waiting for her. There was a table nearby and a walk-through metal detector. The hallway ahead was blocked off by a floor-to-ceiling chain-link barrier with a locked door built into it.
“Hi,” said Chase uncertainly, as the two guards who escorted her there left them alone. “Meet new friends soon?”
“I guess that’s one way of looking at it, yeah,” said one of the two men. “Move your legs apart a little.”
While he patted her down to make sure she wasn't smuggling in anything she shouldn't be, the other one stepped forward to take her suitcase. The weight of it caught him completely off guard. As soon as Chase let go he was struggling with it. “Jesus,” he said, grabbing it with his other hand and adjusting his grip. “You coulda left a couple of your bowling balls at home, ya know.”
“You gotta be kidding me,” said his partner with a laugh, as he patted Chase’s underarms. The guard tried to adjust his grip again and ended up having to let the suitcase drop heavily to the floor, causing his partner to laugh again.
“Screw you, man,” he said in response, ego bruised. “It weighs a fuckin’ ton. I’d like ta see you lift it.”
“Yeah? Cuz she was carryin’ it no problem. You sayin’ you ain’t as strong as a teenage gir-” the first guard replied, as he moved his frisking to Chase’s lithe arms. Feeling them gave him pause, and he forgot what he was saying. He looked at Chase in disbelief, and the look she returned to him was curious and innocent. “As a…?”
“Yeah, yeah,” said the second guard. “Just give me a hand with this fuckin’ thing, alright?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure.”
Working together, the two men hefted the suitcase up onto an inspections table and opened it. Looking up at them, alongside such ordinary things as a folded change of clothes, a toothbrush, and so on, was Douglas the gargoyle.
“So THAT’S what it was. God damn,” said the first guard.
“That Doug,” said Chase.
“Right,” said the second. He looked at his partner. “I ain’t hauling that thing all the way to the Confiscations Office.”
“Fuck that,” agreed the first. “Let’s leave it here for now. We’ll get a cart and come back for it. This job, man.” He took hold of Chase’s upper arm. “Alright, come on. Let’s go.”
He passed Chase through the metal detector while the second guard unlocked the door in the chain-link barrier. Once it was open, he took Chase’s other arm and the two walked her toward it. Chase looked back over her shoulder. “Wait! Bring Doug!” At Andrea's request, Chase had been very compliant up to this point, but she hadn’t been told about this.
“Rules are rules, kid. Everything you have on you gets left at the door,” said the second guard. “With good behavior though, you might-”
“Want Doug! Doug is...” Chase nearly said the word 'friend,' but it didn't seem the word encapsulated her feelings in quite the correct way. “Doug is home! Doug is HOME!”
Chase's hands were still cuffed in front of her body, but that was no big deal to her. She whopped him with both fists, in an upward, diagonal swing to the side of his jaw. The blow was so strong that the man was knocked off his feet, landing on his back on the cement. While the first guard was still frozen in surprise, she smashed her raised elbow into his face. His grip shattered and he staggered backwards, clutching his nose. Chase followed up with a roundhouse kick to the side of the head, and the man joined his partner on the floor.
Already, more guards were rushing into the room, drawn by the noise. Four entered from back the way Chase came, and through the open door she could see two more emerging at the other end of the hall. Chase realized she had to decide whether to stay and fight, or try to run. It was a somewhat sad realization: this was supposed to be a fresh start for her, and she knew she must have been making a poor first impression.
Conflicted, not wanting to hurt anyone else but also not wanting to give up Douglas, she decided to run. She tried to pick up Douglas in her cuffed hands, but when this proved to be a bit too challenging, she bit him on the back of the neck and picked him up in her mouth like a mother lion carrying her cub. She ran through the open door, leapt over the two guards who were running at her, and dashed down the hall behind them.
“What the-? How'd she do that?” she heard one of them ask, before they were out of earshot. Chase rounded a corner and found herself in a long hallway with painted cinder block walls and very few doors, which were spread out sparsely and had glass windows reinforced with wire. Chase stopped at one and tried to open it, but it was locked so she kept running. She could hear the guards behind her, their footsteps echoing down the length of the barren hallway.
Then, one of the doors ahead opened. A guard emerged, summoned by the commotion. He ran toward her, leaving the door to slowly swing closed behind him. The way it moved reminded Chase of Alicia's screen door. She saw her chance. She didn't know if it would lock again automatically when it closed, but she thought it might, and didn't intend to find out.
She burst into a full-on sprint. As her name implied, Chase could sprint quite quickly when she wanted to, although those instances were rare. Generally, when hunting, she preferred to assume a more measured pace in order let her prey tire itself out before she struck. But she did have a top gear. She knew she'd wear out quickly using it, but this was one of those times it was necessary.
The guard drew his tazer, but Chase was looking only at the door behind him. She dropped Douglas from her mouth and kicked him in mid air, sending him flying straight at the guard.
“Whoa!” he shouted, jumping out of the way. Douglas sailed past him like a cannonball.
Whang! The door stopped, ajar, with Douglas wedged perfectly between it and its frame.
Chase darted past the guard and shoved her way through the door, snatching Douglas back up in her mouth as she went. As the door closed behind her, she looked around and saw she was in a very strange place.
It was a huge circular room with rows and rows of little rooms with walls made of vertical metal bars. The ceiling was high and the rooms were stacked in two stories. An iron staircase led up to a matching catwalk, which encircled the perimeter of the massive chamber.
In each of the cells was a woman, wearing the same orange jumpsuit Chase was. Most of them were hooting and hollering, excited by the entertainment Chase was unwittingly providing. Breakouts, riots and the like were always amusing to the inmates, even if it meant they had to be put into lockdown until the situation was resolved.
Chase heard the door open behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and fled the only way she could: further into the room. All around her the girls were banging on the bulletproof glass walls of their cells, cheering her on. She pounced at the catwalk, grabbed the handrail awkwardly with her cuffed hands, and pulled herself up and over.
Already, she heard the guards' stomping footsteps ringing on the metal stairs. She ran away down the catwalk, but after a single lap around the room she reached a dead end. Chase looked over the side and saw the door she entered through below.
Before she could jump off something stabbed her in the small of her back. She reeled forward and grabbed the handrail, looking down at the floor below, eyes wide. There was pain, but she’d felt worse. She could still fight. Or so she thought. She tried to turn around to face her attacker, but her muscles wouldn't answer her commands. A paralyzing effect had seized her entire body.
Her legs slipped out from under her and she crumpled to the catwalk. Douglas slipped from her mouth and lay beside her.
From the position she found herself in, she could see a guard behind her, holding a tazer gun. Thin wires extended in loose crimps from its tip to Chase's back. The last thing Chase saw before she blacked out was two other guards moving forward to take her.