The guard station from whence she was buzzed in lay in the center of a rotunda. Tasìa circled around to the jobs board. Several people passed by, including two diminutive nurses pushing an unweldy cart, but to her relief no eyes followed Tasìa.

It was near one-thirty, and she needed to get over to the SIU but only after she retrieved her fanny-pack back from the dorm.

She also needed to talk to Felicité.

So much to do, yet, she could not assume the guards back at detention would not check on her. It was policy to isolate the inmates from human contact, alienation conditioning, interrogators called it.

However, the tall guard likely had a weakness for underdog rebels like Tasìa given her smarmy deflection in their brief interaction. The song she chose to sing was likely prompted by an unsettled conscience, as well.

The tall guard would check up on Tasìa by the end of the afternoon. Tasìa would bet on it.

If she left by three pm, she would have time to do reconnaissance in the aqueduct maintenance corridors before meeting with Kutuzova.

Tasìa wrote herself in for three o'clock volunteer work. Then penciled in for the overlapping early evening shift. She noticed Felicité wasn't on the list.

Well, shit.

Tasìa walked back to the worker's collective dorm. Luz was at his station, but he was too busy talking to someone to take notice of her.

She passed by Kae-Kae's cell.

Castro still sat upright on her cot with the same far-away but feral gaze on her face. The woman looked absolutely pitiful in Tasìa's estimation.

Tasìa changed out of her sweats and into her work clothes.

She looked around; there was a lot of movement throughout the dorm. The women liked to cook, listen to music, dance, and drink hooch in lively festivity on the weekends.

There was no time for caution now. Tasìa quickly sprinted to the empty cell, and she punched in the locker combination.

She never had to worry about the cell becoming occupied with new inmates. As in everything else, administrative policy was entirely predictable. There were two vacant cells on the same row above her stash cell that would be filled first.

Tasìa prepared her fanny pack with everything she thought she needed before she went to bed the previous night. She strapped the holster of the .32 on her calve.

As she fastened the straps to secure the gun, Street Trash walked by.

The tall scarlet haired woman's eyes bulged out with pupils tight at the sight of the weapon. She dropped her coffee. The plastic container splattered and bounced.

"Midget?"

"The fuck you just call me?"

"I mean, Tasìa, baby. The fucks going on?"

There were two towels on the bottom shelf of the locker left over from a previous occupant. She took them out, and threw them over Street Trash's coffee spill.

Tasìa eyed the other woman. It was time for some streetwise prison diplomacy.

"Nobody has ever accused you of being a snitch, right?"

The redhead shook her head emphatically before she spoke.

"I'll fuck a snitch up for you if the opportunity ever presents itself."

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

She meant Ria. Everybody must have been talking.

"I appreciate that. It won't be necessary. I've got people on the outside that make her people lose sleep at night. The sad thing about it, she knows it and she still pulls the shit she pulls. Like she can't help herself."

The redhead grinned and she pointed a finger at Tasìa.

"Everybody says how sweet and gentle you are, but I knew you were twisted. Nobody runs in that Vida Esconda scene without being a major player. That's why I always gave you grief, to see your badness for myself."

Tasìa shook her head with slow affectation.

"Lose my cool in this chicken-shit outfit? Please."

Tasìa turned her head back at the locker. She tried to recall the redhead's name.

Yvonne, was it?

"Look," Tasìa continued. "You've got a pretty good idea what I'm up to. I busted out of the Cistern, now I've got to split.

"If you can do me the favor of keeping mum, you are welcome to everything in there."

The redhead peeked in the locker. Gazed back up at Tasìa with a gaze that said - new found respect.

"When Ria and Kae-Kae pulled their shit on me, I did what I do best on their lockers."

Tasìa said the words with a relaxed demeanor. Slumped against the wall with her arms folded.

"Damn. Glad I never really got on your bad side. Not from a lack of trying though."

"You are not a snitch so you really had nothing to worry about from me. I got to run now. Take care."

Tasìa hunted for Felicité. She wasn't in her cell. She wasn't in the media room.

Tasìa checked with Este-Oeste. Felicité was in the library.

Tasìa was about to leave, but she needed to say goodbye to the girl who had become her closest friend in the IMCQ.

Este-Oeste sat up on her cot with her book in her lap. A true-crime novel about the Wisconsin, USA serial killer, Jeffrey Dahmer.

She gave Tasìa a cautious look that read - just what are you doing?

Tasìa must have had her big goblin grin accompanied by a weepy-eyed expression on her face. She closed in, put her arms around Este-Oeste's shoulders, in a hug.

"I don't want to involve you in this mess of mine, Marcìa. But I have to let you know how much I'm going to miss you."

Este-Oeste wore a big grin as well on her face as she patted the back of Tasìa's head.

"You are getting so sentimental in your old age, Tasìa."

"I'm only two years older than you."

"Yeah, well, there is that. I need to return those items you left with me."

"You can keep the sweeteners."

"The other items, Demona, or have you forgotten?"

Tasìa released Este-Oeste so she could retrieve the dead lady spy's bondage apperal.

Soon after opening the fanny pack and seeing the lack of room inside it, Tasìa howled in a low chuckle as she struggled to stuff the mask, choker and hairpins into it.

My entire scheme derailed for my lack of spatial organization skills.

After several dozen awkward seconds, she finally succeeded victoriously over the clutter in the bag with her nimble little palms hammering deftly at the hairpins until space was made and the clutter parted to her will.

She turned back to her patiently waiting friend.

"Hey, Marcìa. After you get settled back in on the outside, do you think I could come and visit you?"

Este-Oeste's dominant eye looked into one of Tasìa's own with a gleam bearing mischief.

"You know I am not leaving my two husbands for some wild Vida Esconda adventure with you."

"Yes, you will."

"No, I won't. Marcìa is solid citizen Marcìa from here on out," she said with her head aimed towards the speakers. With a whisper, she continued. "But, yes. Come see me, please come to see me, Tasìa, when the dust settles."

Este-Oeste returned the hug with one of her own. Her big frizzy mess of hair overwhelmed Tasìa's face.

"I'm sorry your last few weeks here are going to be under lockdown," Tasìa told her. An escape brought with it a mandatory month-long lockdown. Sometimes much longer.

"Don't worry about that. You have to do what you have to do to take care of yourself. I'll be fine. You know what you are doing, my Tasìa, I don't doubt that, but promise me you won't get caught."

"I won't. I won't. I won't."

As Tasìa passed the breakroom on her way out of the dorm, she heard a gasp from inside it followed by another cup of spilled coffee.

Ria stared back at her.

Tasìa looked around. No one else was nearby.

"I see I am the last person on the planet you expected to ever see again, Ria. I have to wonder why."

Ria started to react. Tasìa put a finger to her own lips, and raised her pants sleeve to show Ria the gun.

"You keep your big mouth shut this time, bitch, or else it is going to get real ugly for you and the entire Javierra clan."

Ria gasped again, grabbing at her heart. Tight lumps formed in her jowls and neck.

The mafiosa donna nodded in capitulation.