CHERUB: Maximum Security (12 page)

‘I’m really sorry,’ James said, as he let go of Lauren.

‘You should be,’ she replied tersely.

‘I shouldn’t have shoved you,’ Dave said, as James grasped his chicken-grease-smeared hand. ‘I just freaked out after the crash.’

James smiled uneasily. ‘Maybe you scared a bit of sense into me.’

‘Anyway,’ John said, ‘as you know, Scott is an FBI special agent. He’s spent the last three months working undercover as a correctional officer inside the boys’ wing at Arizona Max. He’s just finished a twelve-hour shift and I expect he’s tired, so I want you to listen carefully and we’ll try not to waste any more of his time.’

Scott had to chew up a mouthful of fries before he began speaking.

‘Nothing I say or do can totally prepare you boys for what you’re gonna face inside Arizona Max, but I’ll give it my best shot. I guess the best way to start is by trying to give you an impression of the kind of kids who end up there.

‘Pick up any newspaper, or switch on the TV news, and you’ll see items about crimes that turn your stomach. You’re going to be sharing that cell with the kind of people who committed those crimes. I’m talking about the meanest, nastiest kids on the face of the earth. Don’t underestimate what they’re capable of. Most of them have already killed someone and in a prison environment, violence and ruthless bullying only enhances their status.’

‘Don’t they get punished?’ Dave interrupted.

‘Like how?’ Scott said, shaking his head. ‘These guys have zero chance of
ever
being released from prison and there’s no threat of the death sentence because the Supreme Court says you can’t execute anyone under the age of eighteen. So, even if one of them kills you, the most we can do is move them into solitary confinement for a few months.

‘This hard-core of thugs makes up about a quarter of the population, and they make life thoroughly miserable for the remainder. The weaker inmates are mostly kids who went off the rails one time and got themselves in deep trouble: guys who stuck up convenience stores so they had money to splash out on their girlfriend, middle-class kids who thought they could make some easy cash dealing drugs, or who snapped and murdered relatives who beat them up. A lot of these guys didn’t get many breaks in life and they’re usually a bit underpowered in the brains department. To be honest, I feel sorry for them.’

‘So what’s the prison itself like?’ James asked.

‘Inexpensive,’ Scott answered abruptly.

The three kids all looked baffled, until Scott began to explain:

‘Twenty or thirty years ago, a maximum-security prison was made up of cells, with bars along the front and a sliding door, exactly like you see in the movies. Most of the time you’d be locked up alone, perhaps with one other cellmate. But the prison population in America is exploding and cells are expensive: everyone needs their own walls and doors; their own locks, and washbasins and toilets, etcetera, etcetera. Once you’ve built all those expensive cells, you need lots of guards to make sure there’s nothing naughty going on inside them.

‘To get around this, modern facilities like Arizona Max have dormitory cells. The cell you’ll be living in has two rows of eighteen single beds along the walls. Between each bed there’s a waist-height partition, a small locker and just about enough room to swing out your legs. At one end of the cell there’s a bathroom, with two toilets, three urinals and two shower stalls. A few metres above your heads is a metal gantry, from where hacks like me can look down and keep an eye on you.

‘The good thing about this arrangement is that it gives you twenty-four-hour access to Curtis Oxford. The bad news is that if one of your cellmates takes a dislike to you, he’ll have twenty-four-hour access to
you
.’

‘How much violence is there?’ Dave asked.

‘In the three months I’ve been on that cellblock, I’ve only seen two stabbings, but there are regular fistfights and the weaker inmates get badly bullied. Young offenders’ units are often nicknamed
gladiator schools
, because you’ve got no option but to learn to fight. Teenage boys are the most impulsive and dangerous section of the prison population.’

John interrupted. ‘This is why we want you guys in and out of Arizona Max within two weeks.’

‘Don’t the guards do anything to stop the violence?’ Lauren asked.

Scott shook his head. ‘The guards – or hacks as everyone on the inside calls them – aren’t going to do you any favours. The prison is twenty per cent understaffed and pay isn’t far above minimum wage, so don’t expect them to risk their necks on your behalf.

‘In the daytime there’s about one hack for every forty inmates, at night it drops to one for every hundred. Those kind of staffing levels mean you’re on your own. If things get brutal, we might fire a couple of baton rounds down from the gantry to break up a fight and we’ll drag someone off to the prison hospital if there’s a lot of blood sloshing around. Apart from that, you’ve got to fend for yourself.’

‘So what’s the best way to deal with the violence?’ James asked.

‘You can’t show any weakness,’ Scott said. ‘The second you walk into that cell, there are gonna be thirty guys sizing you up. The bad guys will want to know if they can get their hands on your money and belongings. The weaker inmates need to know if you’re going to be trying to get your hands on their stuff, or if you’re one of the real psychopaths who’ll beat them up just for the fun of it.

‘Statistics show that you have a seventy-per cent chance of being in a physical confrontation within your first two days inside an American prison. Where you’re going inside Arizona Max, I’d put the chances at closer to ninety-nine per cent. Dave is going to be a physical match for anyone in there, but James is going to be one of the smallest. Dave will have to protect him.’

‘I’ve done self-defence training,’ James said. ‘I’m a second-dan Karate black belt.’

‘It’s good that you can handle yourself,’ Scott said. ‘But nobody knows that when you walk through the cell door. All they’ll see is that you’re young and small, which makes you a target for the bullies. If someone starts on you, go in hard and try to make a good account of yourself. That way you’ll earn respect and find that other inmates want you on their side.’

‘What about Curtis?’ Dave asked. ‘Who looks after him?’

‘Curtis has a couple of seventeen-year-old skinheads called Elwood and Kirch who make sure he doesn’t get damaged. There’s also word out that anyone who touches Curtis will be stabbed to death by a biker.’

‘Are there any bikers in that cell?’ James asked.

Scott shook his head. ‘No, bikers are mostly men in their twenties and thirties, but all the kids in your cell are doing long sentences. They’ll get transferred to the adult section of the prison when they turn eighteen and there will be a whole bunch of bikers ready to stab someone for Jane Oxford.’

‘How come?’ James asked.

John answered the question. ‘One of the ways Jane has kept her organisation strong is by looking after anyone who gets sent to prison. That means quality legal representation, financial support for families and physical protection inside prison. She’s very loyal to people who stay on her side. That’s also one of the reasons we’re optimistic that Jane will be happy to help you guys out if you successfully bust Curtis out of prison.’

‘Of course, it’s a double-edged sword,’ Scott added. ‘People have tried to cut deals with the FBI and give information on Jane Oxford in return for immunity, or a shorter prison sentence. Most of them either met a nasty end inside prison, or withdrew their evidence when members of their family were threatened. One guy even got taken out by a sniper when he was supposed to be under protective custody.’

James threw down a chicken bone and pushed away the last of his fries. Kyle, Gabrielle and the others had probably started their recruitment missions by now. Scott’s description of the brutality inside Arizona Max made him wonder if he wasn’t really the one who’d drawn the short straw.

James kept his head down on Wednesday morning, staying in his bedroom reading background documents for the mission and feeling bad about the accident he’d caused the day before.

His reading material included the inmate rulebook for Arizona Max, the personnel files of the officers who worked in the young offender block and criminal records of the twenty-nine inmates who currently shared the dormitory cell with Curtis Oxford.

John managed to clean the gunge out of the pool filter and fill it up. They ate lunch in the sunshine at the poolside, while John re-tested the kids on their background stories and ran through the details of the escape plan. When he was satisfied that everyone understood their job, he went inside to make phonecalls.

James and Dave sat next to each other in the shallow end of the pool. Lauren was a few metres behind, on a sun lounger. She resented the dressing over her foot, as she stared at the cool water and lazily fanned herself with a frond she’d snapped off one of the poolside palms.

Dave looked at James. ‘You don’t seem like yourself. Are you scared?’

‘A bit,’ James admitted. ‘Gladiator school sounds brutal.’

Dave smiled. ‘I always get the jitters the day before a mission. You ever been on a rollercoaster?’

‘A few.’

‘Missions are like rollercoasters. You know the bit when you first get on and you’re going clunk-clunk-clunk up the lift hill? And you’re thinking to yourself,
Why the hell am I putting myself through this?
Then after the ride, you get off and you’re buzzing. You want to run straight around to the back of the queue to have another go.’

James nodded. ‘When I got back from my last mission, they told me I had to spend a few months catching up with schoolwork. I was
so
gutted.’

‘I couldn’t imagine leaving CHERUB and going back to being normal,’ Dave said. ‘It must be so boring having nothing in your life except school, homework and a few mates.’

‘Sorry I didn’t slow the car down when you told me to. I was being a tit.’

Dave shrugged. ‘I guess we all make mistakes. I’ve certainly made my share.’

‘What’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever done on a mission?’

‘
Good
question,’ Dave laughed. ‘There’s been a few. You know I nearly got kicked out of CHERUB after that mission with Janet Byrne?’

‘Why’s that?’

Dave made a bulge over his stomach using his hand. James kicked his feet out of the water and burst out laughing.

‘Oh
that
,’ James giggled. ‘Janet’s totally hot. I can’t
believe
you got her pregnant.’

The idea of Dave having a kid was funny, but James mostly laughed out of relief that Dave didn’t seem to be holding a grudge over the car wreck.

‘It’s not a joke, you know,’ Lauren said bitterly, suddenly looming over the side of the pool. ‘Janet’s my Spanish tutor. She cried in her room for days worrying about what to do.’

James couldn’t control his giggling, so Lauren whipped him across the back with the dried-out palm stalk.

‘That hurt,’ James whined, as he scrambled out of range towards the deep end of the pool.

‘
Good
,’ Lauren yelled, as she hurled the palm away and stormed towards the house. ‘You’re both sexist pigs.’

James made sure Lauren wasn’t coming back out before settling down beside Dave again.

‘In a few years’ time, some poor guy is gonna get a crush on your little sister and you can’t help but feel sorry for him.’

‘Yeah,’ James nodded, as he rubbed the red mark across his back. ‘All girls are nuts.’

*

Lauren came into James’ room at 5 a.m. on Thursday morning. Already dressed, she flicked her brother’s ear to wake him up.

‘John says you’d better get your worthless butt moving.’

James scratched his head as he sat up. Lauren had barely spoken to him since the crash, so he was pleased when she leaned in and wrapped her arms around his sweaty back.

‘What’s that in aid of?’ James grinned.

‘Try not to do anything too stupid on the mission, eh? You might be an idiot, but you’re the only brother I’ve got.’

James laughed. Lauren felt a twinge of guilt as her index finger ran over the scratch where she’d whacked him the afternoon before. ‘I’m making a nice cooked breakfast for everyone,’ she said softly.

James was shocked when he got out of the shower and walked through to the kitchen. Lauren looked composed as she slid a trio of perfectly browned pancakes on to a plate, while bacon and scrambled eggs sizzled over the gas hob.

‘I remember you cooking when Mum was alive,’ James gasped. ‘Burned bits stuck to the pan and mess over the cabinets. When did you get so good at it?’

‘I did a few cookery classes on campus.’

‘You’re getting so mature,’ James said. ‘You’re always surprising me and you never seem to ask me for help and advice like you used to.’

Lauren started to laugh.

‘What?’ James asked.

‘Nothing,’ Lauren sniggered. ‘It’s just…’ She paused to let out a snorting noise. ‘The thought of asking
you
for advice. You’re not exactly Mr Maturity, are you?’