Rhozier Brown - DC Noir 2 - The Classics

Guards ran through the jumpsuited crowd, yelled into their radios.

“Nobody come any closer! Nobody move!” Twitch yelled to the charging guards. “Don’t you clear the yard! You clear the yard, I cut off his head and let the mice run out! Swear to Jesus, you clear the yard, you come at me, he’s dead! Dead! Mice! Ain’t gonna let you clear the yard! No Attica! No clean shots!”

The guard captain reached the inner ring of spectators near Lucus and called out: “Everybody hold your positions! Everybody! No prisoner moves! Officers stay back! … It’s okay!” he shouted to Twitch as the inmate kept backing toward the water-tower fence. The captain’s words flew over Tate, who stayed facedown in the dust and prayed that the snipers’ aim was true. “You’re okay!”

A react squad of guards charged out of the admin building. Shotguns, man, buckshot loads bouncing on SWAT belts. They formed a skirmish line facing the cons to be sure nobody tried to cop a point in this psycho drama.

On the wall, snipers ran to position. Lucus saw sunlight glint off a scope.

Twitch kept yelling, “Nobody move!” He made Adkins unlock the water-tower gate, stayed pressed against the guard. The Klaxon blared.

Higgins, radio in hand, moved next to the captain as Twitch maneuvered himself and his hostage up the spiral steel staircase along the outside of the water tower.

“What the hell is he doing?” asked Higgins.

“We can’t get a clean shot,” said the captain.

“Nobody move down there!” yelled Twitch. “Nobody move or we’ll all die!”

Higgins radioed a report to the warden.

In his mind, Lucus saw the state police cars in the town a mile beyond the wall, cops choking down donuts and slurping coffee as they turned on their red-and-blue spinning party lights and roared toward the prison.

Somewhere, Lucus knew, a TV news camera crew was racing to their helicopter.

Standing on a metal ledge fifty feet above the yard, knife against the guard’s spine, Twitch screamed down: “Don’t move! Kill him if you do! Mice!”

Radios crackled.

The dudes started to buzz, whisper, but stood still cause the admin had turned out the shotguns and snipers.

Higgins’s radio squawked; it was the warden: “What does he want?”

Cool and careful, Lucus stepped forward.

“Administrator Higgins!” yelled Lucus, going for the man in charge. “I can do it!”

“Freeze and stow it!” yelled the captain. A guard swung a shotgun toward Lucus.

“I can do it!” pleaded Lucus.

“Do what?” asked Higgins.

“Get your man down from there alive. Twitch, he thinks I’m, like, one of him. You know I’m the only guy in here who he believes.”

Captain said: “What the—”

“He’s crazy, sir,” said Lucus. “But he ain’t stupid.”

“He’s a dead man!” snapped the captain.

“Drop him, your guy falls too,” said Lucus, adding: “Sir. Hell to pay for that. Hell to pay even if you just kill Twitch. TV cameras coming. Ask the warden what he wants on the 6 o’clock news.”

“Resident,” snapped the captain, “you’re ass—”

“How will you do it?” said Higgins.

“Careful, sir. Real careful. I can do it, I promise you that. But,” added Lucus, “I’m gonna need something from you.”

“We don’t—” started the captain.

“What?” interrupted Higgins, who knew the true priorities.

“I can’t bargain Twitch down off of there with just Be nice bullshit,” said Lucas.

“That man’s crazy!” barked the captain.

“Dead on, sir. And there’s nothing you can threaten him with that he don’t already do to himself in his cell. But you let me tell him he can get transferred to a state hospital—”

“The courts put him in here as sane,” said the captain.

“Wasn’t that a smart move.” Lucus jerked his thumb toward the men on the water tower. “You can administratively transfer him to the state hospital for a ninety-day evaluation. Hell, they get him in there. Unless you or his lawyer squawks, they’ll keep him on an ‘indefinite treatment term.’ No doctor gonna risk his state job turning loose a man with a knife talking about mice.”

“Why would that work?” asked Higgins.

“Cause I’ll sell Twitch the truth. Hospital is co-ed. Nurses. Better drugs, better beds, more sun, people who treat him like he is. He might be crazy, but he ain’t no fool … Course, there is one more problem.”

“What?” chorused the captain and Higgins.

“Why risk my ass doing that? Long climb up that tower. Long fall down.”

“You get my man back,” ordered the captain, “or—”

“Or what — sir? My lockup order don’t make me a hostage negotiator. I get punished for being a no-volunteer, some lawyer will make the admin eat it big-time.”

“What do you want?” asked Higgins.

“Nothing much,” said Lucus. “A righteous deal — admin breaks its word on this, it’ll get brutal in here, then real soon admin will need credibility with us residents to save something or somebody else.”

“What do you want?” repeated Higgins.

“That little matter we talked about earlier will do.”

Captain said: “What?”

Higgins pushed his steel eyes against Lucus. Lucus didn’t fold. Higgins bargained in the radio with the warden.

“That a TV news helicopter I hear chopping close?” said Lucus.

Higgins lowered his radio. Told Lucus: “Go.”

Sam, Kevin, and Darnell, Cooley and J.C. and Manster, Jerome and the O.T. posse, Barry, Higgins, and the admin — everybody watched Lucus. Heard him yell to Twitch that he was coming up. Heard him talking about deals, making it cool. Watched Lucus climb that spiral staircase as his words faded in the October wind. Watched three men on a platform high above the yard. Watched them with cold eyes and sniper-scoped rifles — for maybe ten minutes: Nobody took their eyes off the three men to time it.

A helicopter chopped the air above the institution.

Movement on the ledge — a sliver of glistening steel tumbled down through the sky to the yard.

Guard Adkins scurried down the water-tower steps.

Higgins, into the radio: “No fire! Repeat, no fire!”

Half a dozen guards grabbed Twitch when he reached the bottom of the stairs, handcuffed him, and led him away. Everybody knew the guards would use rubber hoses on him inside, but even the meanest jerk knew the deal had to stand.

Lucus walked toward Higgins and H.L.S.

Higgins said something to the captain, who frowned, but nodded when the message was repeated as a command.

The captain and two of his shotgun boys marched through the crowd of prisoners. Marched up to Kevin.

“You!” yelled the captain. “Let’s go!”

“Me?” said Kevin as the shotguns swung his way. “Hey! What’s this shit? I didn’t do anything! I didn’t do anything!”

And as the guards hustled him away to pack his personal gear, the yard watched.

Higgins nodded to Lucus, went home to his family.

The Klaxon sounded “Return to cells.” Shotguns on the yard watched everybody shuffling back inside.

J.C. was lost in the crowd.

For a heartbeat, Lucus glimpsed Jerome and the O.T. posse.

Roll up on that boy next yard time, thought Lucus. Brace him, but let him back down. His posse won’t be so hot to dance with me, and he’ll know it. The Word will advise him to keep his cool: The chump he wanted ain’t around no more, the beef is over, and a respected, evil dude like me … Word is, don’t mess with Lucus.

Walking beside Lucus, like he was reading the man’s mind, H.L.S. said: “What about our spy boy Darnell?”

“Oh, I’ll think of something for Jackster.”