The Swords of Babylon

CHAPTER NINE

Drake spent a night in his cell, unmolested. Not daring to sleep, he rested his eyes and allowed his mind to drift, whilst keeping his senses attuned for any sound of unwanted company. Most of all, he missed Mai. Keeping company with her lately had made his whole existence more upbeat. A bright future existed with the Japanese girl and the rest of the new team. It was time to embrace his newfound fortune.

There was just the small matter of escaping Razin’s prison and deciding if this ‘Babylon thing’ needed further attention, to deal with first.

A loud klaxon sounded the call to breakfast. Drake’s door slid open with the rest. He wondered if he might get away with staying put, but a guard soon began to rattle the bars with his baton, quickly joined by two more.

A barrage of Russian swear words proved that cursing was a universal language.

Drake followed them out of the cell, along the walkway and down the steps into the mess hall. Half the benches were already occupied, and the other half of the inmates queued up for food. The gym area was empty, but Drake immediately spied several of last night’s opponents eyeing him from a far table.

No doubt downing their porridge, he thought. Fuelling up on energy for a big day of Drake-bashing.

He sat down at an empty table, at the end of a long bench, watchful. Hunger pangs played on his stomach like an orchestra, but he ignored them. No way was he joining that queue to find minced rat and chunky coleslaw waiting for him at the end.

Nothing happened, but the atmosphere grew steadily more charged. He watched the clock, seeing it jump past 0900 hours. No way could he expect an extraction in the next twelve hours. If the team did try, it would be without sufficient planning — maybe Dahl’s style, but not Hayden’s. She would ensure sufficient, superior resources before making her move. At 0930 a side door opened and sunlight flooded through. The inmates began to file toward it.

Exercise yard.

He watched the guards watch him. They were waiting for something. Half smiles ghosted across their faces. Itchy fingers twirled batons. There was a reason he hadn’t been accosted yet, and it wasn’t to let the prisoners’ food settle.

The last man to rise, he drifted slowly toward the open door. The sounds of raised voices and a bouncing ball indicated at least one game was underway. When Drake stepped outside, he quickly shielded his eyes from the sun, not that it was overly bright, but he’d been dwelling in interior gloom for a few days.

A row of long, stepped benches stood off to his left, like the bleachers at an American football game. Men stood and sat along them, the higher their position the higher their standing in the prison. King of the hill mentality. A wrought iron outdoor gym sat in the far corner. A basketball court-cum-football pitch in the center. Many inmates lounged or walked around the exterior fence, staying away from the melee in the middle. Drake looked up and saw two occupied guard towers and a balcony attached to the prison wall, where more guards could patrol or lounge, as they did now. He walked to the right, staying close to the prison fence.

The football game continued, the men ignoring most of the rules. Groups congregated together on the bleachers, gangs designated by their prison tats. Loners circulated around the edges, staying watchful or handing out tiny plastic packets. Money changed hands. Drake was surprised to see Yorgi lounging up ahead and slowed down when he passed the thief.

“Tonight?” Drake mumbled, face pointed at his toes.

“Watch your back,” Yorgi whispered. “Something will happen. Watch the guards. When they move away, get ready.”

Shit. Drake had been right. The prisoners did have something planned. He quickly made another reconnoiter of the area, identifying possible weapons, areas to fall back to, certain inmates who held themselves in the way that said they were actually dangerous rather than just muscle-bound and deranged.

The sun rose higher. The football game ended. Some of the men sneered at Drake and challenged him by raising fists and grinning. Drake saw the chance of a little payback.

“You want me to play? Well I—”

A guard vanished from his field of vision, slipping back indoors. Another stepped down from a watchtower. The balcony guards turned away and vanished through an unseen door. Total silence descended over the exercise yard.

A half-naked figure walked out through the door, into the light. Drake turned to study him and breathed, “For fuck’s sake.”

Zanko.