Ted Dekker - Sanctuary

“OIG,” he said. “What’s the nature of your visit?”

“Well now, that would take all the fun out of it, wouldn’t it?”

The officer stared at him. We all knew that OIG had no obligation to explain itself. Keith let the question stand for a second, then grinned.

“We’re doing routine inspections tied to an investigation of the Prison Industry Authority. You can understand my reluctance to give any opportunity to suppress evidence. It’s a supply-side issue. We’ll be in and out in an hour.”

The guard’s eyes met mine again. “Identification?”

I reached across Keith and handed him my ID. “Afternoon, Officer. Deputy Julia Wishart.” I could think of nothing else to say, so I just said, “Shouldn’t take long.”

The man took my badge and dipped his head. “Just one second.”

He retreated into the booth, spoke to the other staff member, then lifted a phone off the wall and made a call.

“He’s checking,” I whispered.

Keith didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at me, which was message enough. Shut up.

The guard spoke into the phone, tapped quickly at a keyboard, then hung up the receiver. Our names would come up on a list of registered OIG deputies because our counterparts actually existed, far away in Sacramento, probably pushing paper. Keith had done his homework. An elderly man with round spectacles somewhere in Culver City knew he’d forged two OIG IDs for the fair price of five thousand dollars, but any admission on his part would land him in prison. We were covered.

Again, I only half-believed it.

The guard leaned back out of the booth and handed Keith the IDs. “Long way from Sacramento.”

“Tell me about it,” Keith said. “They’re running this one out of the main office.”

He nodded. “Head on down to the first sally port. They’re expecting you. A staff member will accompany you from there.”

“Thank you, sir.” Keith gave him half a salute, put the car back in gear, and headed past the lifted gate.

We drove for a hundred yards before either of us spoke. “Never underestimate the value of a good forgery,” Keith said.

“Just like that.”

“Not quite.”

But it was just like that.

I knew it was too easy. I should have known then that something was terribly wrong. I kept telling myself that it would work, that everything was going to be all right, that the demons screaming inside of me were just a part of my neurosis. I kept thinking that although getting in was the easiest part, God was on our side, because we’d come to set the world straight and sometimes the good side does win.

But then suddenly it wasn’t just like that, because we came around a corner and the massive structure called Basal loomed before us.

I sat next to Keith, numbed by our audacity in the face of that fortress. It had all seemed so doable on paper, but driving up to the prison I was suddenly certain that I wouldn’t come out alive. If I did, it would be in Danny’s shackles because he would no longer need them. He’d be dead.

Then again, maybe it really was just like that, because we were breaking in, not breaking out, and getting into prison was very easy in the United States of America. You can check in anytime you like, but you can never leave.

The first gate at the perimeter fence rolled open as we approached. I sat still and tried to keep my mind on Danny as we rolled into the sally port.

“This is it,” I heard Keith say.

“Just like that,” I returned.

“Not quite,” he repeated.

But it was. A deputy welcomed us, asked us to leave the rental car where it was, and then led us, briefcases in hand, along the fences to steps leading up to the arching front entrance. The massive bolts on the iron doors were drawn back. Some would say that Basal looked stately compared to other prisons, but all I saw was a glorified dungeon. I tried to imagine Danny locked away inside such a beautiful building, but I couldn’t and my mind returned to flip-flopping between just like that and impossible .

Something was wrong.

No, nothing’s wrong, Renee. My palms were sweating, but everything was going exactly as we’d planned it.

We were breaking into Basal to save Danny.

We were ushered into a reception area that reminded me of a waiting room at a doctor’s office. I stood by the window, looking calm and collected with both hands clasping my briefcase as Keith gave our badges and paperwork to the staff member on duty.

I was thinking that I should do something besides stand there like a coat rack, but Keith was in charge of getting us in.

The CO who’d ushered us in stood by the door patiently, watching me. I gave him a shallow smile and a nod, then averted my eyes. Did he suspect anything at all? Evidently he didn’t, because he just stood there for the five minutes it took the clerk to process us and call for our escort.

A staff member dressed in a white shirt and blue tie walked into the room and smiled.

“Welcome to Basal, deputies.” He reached out his hand. “Michael Banning, assistant to the warden, at your service. I understand you’d like to inspect our milk.”

Keith took his hand. “Just a random inspection, no cause for alarm. We’d like to get started if that’s all right with you. We have another appointment today.”

“Of course.” He offered me his hand and I didn’t want to take it, but I did. “I’m guessing you’re Julia.”

“Deputy is fine,” I said.

He grinned wide. “Well then, Deputy it is. The warden is on his way down. Can I get either of you anything? Coffee, a soda?”

“This isn’t a social call, Mr. Banning,” Keith said. “The warden will be notified of our findings when our investigation is complete. Now if you wouldn’t mind, we’d like to get started.”

“Of course. But I’m sure the warden would feel he’d insulted you if he didn’t greet you himself. It’ll just be a minute.”

I don’t know what came over me at that moment—maybe my fear of meeting the warden, maybe my aversion to waiting one more minute for anything when it came to Danny. But I looked into his eyes and spoke with simple authority.

“Do you know how much evidence can be burned in a minute, Banning?”

Banning. Not Mr. Banning, or Michael, just Banning.

He flashed another grin. “Of course. It’ll just be a moment.”

Before I could make another pass at setting him straight, the door crashed open and a tall man wearing round glasses and a black suit walked in.

“Who do we have the pleasure of assisting today?” he boomed.

This was Marshall Pape, warden of the Basal Institute, I was sure of it. Danny’s greatest enemy.

My demons vanished, fleeing the sudden rage that boiled in my gut. I wanted to walk up to him and slap him in the face and demand he take me to Danny immediately, but that would have only made our break-in a disaster.

I stepped forward and spoke before Keith could. “OIG, Deputies Somerset and Wishart. Thank you for having us, Warden. Nice place you have here. As my partner was just explaining to your assistant, we have another appointment, so if you could help us keep this as simple as possible, we’d be grateful.” I considered stopping there but kept going. “Nothing to worry about—we just need to take some random samples of milk and question some of the inmates about spiking. I’m sure you’ve heard of the recent issues with the Prison Industry Authority. Point us in the right direction so we can get out of your hair.”

Keith watched me, masking his surprise at my monologue, I’m sure. The warden looked down at me with a kind face, if a bit long in the nose. I wasn’t sure if his smile was forced or if he truly found me amusing.