Cyrus was quite upset about his prolonged stay in the hole. Solitary confinement was getting to him and he was breaking down his guard against the negative impacts of such conditions. The fact that people were dying around him had an impact but more than anything, it was the way they were lying to him about the reasons why he was still being held in the hole. Something was not right about his continued placement and he wanted to find out what it was that kept him in the dark. Frustrated, he wrote investigator Hendricks and asked him to meet with him as soon as he could. This would be an interesting meeting to say the least as Cyrus was at his breaking point.
Days went by as he heard nothing from agent Hendricks. Surely he hasn’t forgotten he promised to help him with his situation and get him moved. Finally a few days later he got a shout while in the shower telling him to get dressed and get ready to go to the visitation room. Drying off as fast as he could, he was taken back to his cell and got dressed. Handcuffed and shackled on his legs he shuffled with the tempo of the two officers escorting him to the visitation room. Entering he saw agent Hendricks and sighed with relief. Finally, of somebody kept his word and came to see him like he said he would. Hendricks sat down and motioned the officers to remove the shackles and gave Cyrus a pen and sheet of paper with instructions. “I want you to write the following sentences and sign it today’s date and then print your name and number under the statement.”
Cyrus, looking puzzled but willing to go along with the move said “okay, give it to me so I can start it.” Hendricks said out loud “I hereby agree to testify on the matter of the escape attempt at the Aspen correctional facility in return for a transfer to general population. I also agree that I am doing this on my own free will and realize that there are risks involved in going back to general population as a witness about to testify in an upcoming trial.” Pensive and writing the exact words instructed to write, he signed the paper and handed it to Hendricks. “Now,” said Hendricks, “let’s see if this gives me some arbitration leverage to get you moved out of here.” Nodding his head he said he would be back in a few days with an answer.
Weeks passed and nothing from Hendricks. Cyrus asked a bunch of officers if they had seen him or heard from him but they all said that he hasn’t been seen for a while lately. In fact, one officer said he hadn’t seen his car parked in his spot in the parking lot for the last few weeks and he didn’t think Hendricks worked here any longer. Somebody else told him that he got promoted and moved to the other side of the state as a supervisor or big shot for the director’s office. Either way, nobody knew where he was.
Disappointed, angry and very ready to explode, Cyrus was about to hit the wall with anger when he heard his name yelled out loud. “Ranger you got a visit,” get dressed and be ready to go in five.” Hurrying up and putting his jumpsuit on the bed, he waited for the officer to strip search him before putting the monkey suit back on. “Never mind the strip Ranger, get dressed, we’re in a hurry here.”
Putting on his jumpsuit, and putting his hands out for the handcuffs, he was ready in a few and waiting for the cell door to open. Not knowing what was going on, he shuffled his feet as the leg irons clang to the concrete floor in rhythm with his stride. They took him to the captain’s office where there was a man sitting there in a nice black suit and yellow tie. He identified himself as an FBI agent and he wanted to ask Cyrus a question or two about another prisoner kept in the same pod as him. It seemed that the man in black reminded him of the day he got arrested and taken to the jail for the manslaughter charge they trumped him up with to satisfy the district attorney’s prosecution record. The only difference was the tie. Skeptic and not really in the mood to talk he invoked his right to remain silent and sat there listening to the agent telling him what he needed from him.
When it was all said and done Cyrus stood up and said “if that is all you want, I am ready to go back, I ain’t your snitch and I am certainly not your bitch, and I don’t work for you guys. I am here in the hole under protest and been lied to a least a few dozen times about when I get moved or when I get to go back to general population. Sorry but I’m done being lied to. Take me back…..please?”
The man stood up and said angrily to Cyrus “if you don’t cooperate, you will die inside this place and never see daylight again, you understand me you son of a bitch, don’t you ever talk to me like that again or I will fuckin make your life miserable and cut your air off.” The agent grabbed his briefcase and left. The captain motioned the officers to take him back to the cell and followed the agent hurriedly as they spoke softly while exiting the office area into the main corridor. As they left Cyrus heard the captain tell the officers escorting him back to “rock his world.”
Something told Cyrus his world was about to be rocked and that the system was going to” rock” it hard for him while he was still under protective custody and a material witness in a murder of a correctional officer. The captain was known to be a “hardballer” and worked on special details for the warden regarding gang related issues and drug interdiction related to the street and dirty cops inside the prisons. He was a rule breaker and a heartbreaker. He played hard and he said what he meant and meant what he said. So far, he had not said a word to Cyrus but he was expecting him to show up at his cell real soon in the next few days. He had heard he made house calls during the odd hours of the day and weekends and this was right up his alley and expertise.
Days passed as Cyrus sat quietly inside his cell reading and staying busy with a hobby craft he was working on to keep him busy. The steel door to the pod slammed as it opened and you could hear a dog barking all the way to Cyrus’s cell with loud footsteps following the canine that sounded like a platoon of Marines entering the common area. Someone yelled out a command to stand by their cell and face the wall as about a half dozen pair of boots hit the concrete floor.
As the dog sniffed each cell the officer handling the drug dog was carefully inspecting each area the dog had searched from the outside looking for an alert or sign that indicated there were drugs nearby. Suddenly the canine stopped in front of Cyrus’s cell and sat to alert for drugs.
An officer, his face covered with a balaclava as well as the others dressed in black ordered Cyrus to put his hands through the food port and as Cyrus complied, the officer raked the cuffs tightly and ordered him to turn around and get down on his knees.
Complying with the orders, the masked officer ordered the cell door opened as soon as it did, four other masked officers jumped on top of Cyrus and restrained his legs, and hog tied him up. They then carried him to the gurney that was brought into the common area and strapped him in tightly. Right before they moved him out of the pod, they applied a spit mask over his head and obscured his vision of those surrounding him. He could hear their voices but he didn’t recognize any of them. As this was going down, he remembered the captain’s voice and words when he said he would “rock” his world.
The spit mask came off and the officers untied the strap that had his legs hog tied to his hands. Stretching out a little he tried to look up but was held down by someone’s hand as a voice asked him who his dealer was. Cyrus, knowing this was a setup, responded, “I don’t do drugs and you can test me but if that do smelled dope, somebody put it there.” Suddenly his head was pushed down again with a little bit more force than before and the officer asked him again, “where did you get the dope?” knowing that his answers would not be acceptable, he remained quiet and laid there still until somebody said to take him back to his cell. Still strapped on the gurney the trip back to his cell was uneventful and it was clear that this was just a drill of things to come if Cyrus didn’t cooperate with the captain and his men wearing the black uniforms and balaclavas for secrecy.
The night passed quickly once he got back to his cell. There was no doubt that the captain paid him a house call and sent him a firm message to play ball or suffer the consequences. Cyrus knew what time it was and he didn’t need a watch to know it. Someone yelled out to Cyrus, “hey Ranger, what did the mall ninjas want with you or is it a secret?” not wanting to provoke another altercation, he quietly sat on his bed and picked up a book to read and tried to forget this whole thing didn’t happen. He knew his nightmare was just beginning.
Recollecting his memory and all the things that have transpired since his involuntary containment or confinement inside this hole underground, Cyrus was beginning to understand why there were so many gladiators in the game and why they fought so often to vent their frustrations and anger at the system. It was always clear that they could never win the battle as it was similar to wrestling or fighting an 1000 pound gorilla in a cage that had no place to escape to. The writing was on the wall and Cyrus knew it was just a matter of time before he became another gorilla but not big enough to beat the system.