Divine Justice

CHAPTER 72

KNOX AND STONE ate their breakfast in silence, doing their best to act as lethargic as the rest of the prison population actually was from their drug dose the day before. Both men's gazes were in fact sweeping the cafeteria.

Near the end of the meal, Knox, who was sitting across from Stone so they could watch both sides of the room and not be surprised from the rear, gave a little rehearsed cough and his gaze darted to nine o'clock. An instant before the blow struck, Stone lifted his tray up and used it as a shield. The shiv glanced off the hard plastic. In the next motion, Stone had hooked Manson's leg with his own, and the big guard's momentum caused him to slide across the table. He crashed through plates and plastic cups until he toppled to the floor on the other side, taking two prisoners next to Knox down with him. In the commotion that followed, Knox edged his plate off the table with his elbow and his uneaten grits plopped directly on Manson's head.

When the other guards came running they found Stone and Knox sitting there calmly, but with bewildered expressions, and staring at the pile of bodies on the floor.

When the guards pulled Manson to his feet, he was still holding the shiv.

"Frank, what the hell are you-" began one of the guards before Manson roughly pushed him away. With an enraged scream he tried to jump over the table at Stone. Only Knox had stood on his foot at that precise moment and his leap turned into an abrupt fall. His chin slammed down on the table in front of where Stone was sitting. As if on cue, Knox stood, blocking the view of the other guards.

"Let me get out of your way so you can deal with the psycho guard," he said politely.

In that instant, Oliver Stone delivered a crushing blow to the back of Manson's neck with his elbow. When the guards finally got around Knox, Stone had slipped to the other end of the table and seemed to be innocently watching the events.

Manson was carried off on a gurney unconscious and barely breathing. Even the most comatose con in the room had a smile on his face at the sight.

Later that morning Stone and Knox were standing in the rec yard. No one had come after them about what had happened to Manson, though Stone had been popped once in the head for apparently chewing too loudly.

"How hard did you hit him?" Knox asked.

"Hard enough."

"I like your style."

Donny boy smiled at them as he passed by. He gave a stupid thumbs-up to Stone. The guards on the pod towers were making their rounds, eyeballing the gaggle of cons with binoculars and scopes on stationary tripods. And the guns. The guns were always front and center. The power. The deterrent. Stone thought this as he leaned against the cement block wall and wondered how the older guard was going to accomplish it, whatever it was.

Knox kept checking the periphery without seeming to do so as he stood next to Stone.

One inmate was bouncing the ball. He made a layup, caught the rebound and went back for a jumper. Like most of the inmates Stone and Knox had seen, he was black, young, tall and muscular. He seemed to have all his wits about him, so maybe Donny had let out his secret to others about the carrots. He missed the jumper and Stone stiffened as the black guy jogged to get the ball that had rolled past the blue line.

Before he could get there though, another inmate crashed into him, knocking the man across the line where he landed on the ball. The two men got up and faced off. A horn sounded. And the riflemen on the towers took aim. A shot was fired, but it didn't come from the tower. The guards looked everywhere for the source of the round.

As if on cue one inmate hit another inmate, sending him down with a bloodied nose. Another shot was fired. Whistles erupted, horns blared and a cluster of cons in the middle of the concrete playground bolted, screaming. Two guards who ran up to stop this human stampede were run over, their caps and billy clubs disappearing beneath the tidal wave of fleeing prisoners.

Hands closed around Stone's and Knox's wrists and they were pulled forward.

"Back to your cells, now!" barked a voice.

Stone's gaze fell on the older guard, the one who'd nodded at him. He was pushing Knox and Stone toward one of the entrances into the prison.

As they passed a throng of prisoners standing there watching the melee, Knox spotted Donny, who was smiling and cheering on the fighters.

Knox sucker-punched him and old Donny boy, the killer of three kids, slid unconscious to the cold concrete lawn of Dead Rock.

"Now, that's what I call accountability," Knox muttered as he followed behind Stone.

Inside the building the guard herded them up a set of stairs and into a small room, where he closed the door.

"Turn around."

They did so, a little hesitantly.

He quickly cuffed and shackled them, then spun them back around to face him.

"We don't have much time. I was Josh Coombs' best friend. I heard you helped Willie."

"I did. He's dead now, I guess you heard. Bob too. Blown up."

The guard nodded. "Any idea what's going on?"

"Drugs." Stone gave him the thirty-second version and ended with, "And Josh was murdered because he'd found out."

"I kind of figured something like that. I've heard things, seen some weird stuff, but nothing I could prove. But I sure as hell know you two weren't prison transfers."

"How many guards think like you?"

"No more than two or three. The rest are in Tyree's pocket."

Knox said, "I'm with the CIA. My name is Joe Knox. I need you to contact a guy named Marshall Saunders and tell him where I am. His phone number is-" He broke off and stared at Stone. "You can tell him I'm alone," Knox finished.

"I'm not going to let you do that," said Stone.

"You don't have a choice. That's why I'm calling my buddy Marsh and not Hayes."

"We both know Hayes. If he finds out you screwed him, your next stop will be a torture center in Afghanistan, and you won't be the one doing the interrogating. So go back to your family. And finish your life on your terms, not his."

"Oliver, do you know what he's-"

Stone broke in, "I've always known. Some things never change."

"Guys," the guard said nervously. "Hurry the hell up."

Knox gazed for another moment at Stone and then gave the phone number to the guard and the fact that he had a man named John Carr with him. "Call Saunders just as soon as you can and tell him where we are."

They were hustled back to their cells as the entire prison was put in lockdown.

As the pair sat shackled in their cell, Knox said, "I'll do all I can do to ensure you get a fair shake. I'm not going to let Hayes make you disappear."

"I've already disappeared. I've been invisible for the last thirty years, in fact."

A few moments of silence passed.

"Why didn't Hayes let you have that damn medal?"

Stone scooted up to a standing position and leaned back against the wall. "It was so many years ago, I don't think I remember anymore."

"Sure you do. That place you never forget. Ever."

Stone glanced at him. "When were you in Nam?"

"Last eighteen months of the war."

"I was more on the front end." Stone gazed down at the floor as he spoke. He had never really told anyone about this before, but he also knew it really didn't matter anymore. They would either die in this place or Stone would die in another prison, if he wasn't executed.

He looked up at Knox. "Macklin Hayes had one way of fighting. Throw as many grunts into the meat grinder as he could find, and see where the chips fell. But regardless of the outcome he saw to it that the reports that went up the line all detailed his brilliance on the battlefield. Although I believe the closest he ever got to actual combat was the occasional dustup in the officers' mess."

"I had some brass just like that. Talked a great game but never wanted to come up to bat."

"Hayes believed that I cost him a fast promotion to lieutenant colonel. And maybe I did."

"How?"

"There were three villages on a patch of dirt that the higher-ups suddenly decided we had to own. I guess so they could make it seem like we were winning the war back home. They gave the assignment to Hayes. A nice little carrot for his next bump up the line to the one-star. He ordered three companies forward, one company to hit each village. The night before we were going in Hayes called a meeting of all the sergeants."

"What about the captains?"

"They were all dead. We ran through captains and second lieutenants like you wouldn't believe. Anyway, he ordered us to flatten the places. Nobody left."

"No soldiers, you mean."

"I mean nobody, Knox, men, women and children. Nobody. Then we were to put a torch to the place and say that the Viet Cong had done it. It was some disinformation bullshit campaign that Hayes had come up with. He was constantly pulling that crap. Guy was like Machiavelli reincarnated. I think he saw it as a career enhancer."

"What happened?"

"Two of the three companies followed orders. One didn't."

"And Hayes came after you?"

"He tried. But I told him if he did I'd tell everybody the truth. It wasn't like he could say I'd disobeyed orders, because the orders he gave should have landed him right in front of a court-martial. See, I knew how he played the game. The brass upstairs might look the other way if the mission went off, but any hiccup that the journalists could get hold of and they'd eat him alive. Anyway, with one village left, the command chain wasn't pleased. So it took old Hayes a little longer to get his cluster of oak leaves."

"But he found another way to hurt you. The medal."

"I really didn't give a shit at that point. I'd been fighting a war that had no end. Every friend I'd ever had over there was dead. I was tired. I was sick of Southeast Asia, the rain, the heat, every minute of every day of my life spent taking and giving up a hundred yards' worth of dirt and jungle, and for what? For what, Knox?"

"Is that when you joined Triple Six?"

Stone hesitated. "I guess you've earned the right to know."

"I promise you it won't go any further. If they convict you it won't come with any help from me."

"Yeah, that's when Triple Six came, although I wouldn't say I joined. They made it clear that was my only option. I just ended up trading one hell for another. I was always lucky that way."

"I'm assuming you were great at your job. So why did the CIA turn on you?"

"The years went by and I married Claire and we had our little girl. Best thing that ever happened to me. Without getting too sappy about it, it was like a whole new world of possibilities opened up for me. And I decided I didn't want to play the game anymore. I just couldn't pull the trigger, Knox. I couldn't stand my own stench. I couldn't fly halfway around the world, pop someone in the brain and come home and hold my little girl and kiss my wife. I couldn't do it anymore."

"And they didn't appreciate that?"

"Men like that think they own you forever. And maybe they do."

Stone slid back down to the floor, tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

"I'll help you, Oliver. I swear it."

"You just help yourself, Knox. It's too late for me. And all I'll be getting is exactly what I deserve."