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The Offer

Colonel Sydney Nichols reclined in a wooden chair holding a chilled glass of water in her right hand. Beads of fresh sweat formed on her forehead and along her neck. She dipped her fingers into the glass and removed a chunk of clear ice. While a slow-moving ceiling fan stirred the stale, humid air, she circulated the frozen water over her lips. General Nathan Franks sat next to her holding an unopened soda can. Both officers wore dress uniforms, complete with decorations. Sydney and Nathan listened to Mr. Cain Burl, the longtime warden of Angola Prison. A silver metal briefcase, embossed with a glossy United States Army insignia, rested in Sydney's lap.

"I do apologize for the inhospitable temperature," Mr. Burl offered in his refined southern Louisiana accent. He pointed to a rusted air-conditioning vent dripping condensation. "I'm sure you've noticed the oppressive humidity. A better ventilation system would be welcomed, but we aren't overburdened with funds. Convicts and drug addicts, always at the bottom of the list I'm afraid. Would you care for more ice, Colonel?"

Sydney forced a smile. "No thank you, this will do."

Mr. Burl graciously returned her smile. "We are honored by your presence, Colonel. I must say, it was the surprise of my life to learn you were visiting our humble facility. As you might imagine, astronauts are not our regular clientele."

"We wish to speak with a former noncommissioned officer, Eric Precedian," Nathan interjected while he rested his soda on the corner of Mr. Burl's scuffed desk. The warden leaned back in his chair with a quizzical expression on his weary face. He rubbed his chin and shook his head.

"I don't know why the military would send two fine officers to visit such a despicable creature. In all my years, I've never met a colder man. I would not be surprised if ice water flows in his veins."

Mr. Burl pointed to the prison yard visible through his dingy office windows. Sydney and Nathan glanced at armed men standing vigil atop barbed-wire-encased watchtowers. "Angola was built for violent psychopaths. With Precedian locked inside here, the world is a safer place."

"Thank you, Mr. Burl," General Franks replied with a diplomatic smile. "If we could speak with Mr. Precedian alone for a few minutes, we would be most grateful."

The warden rested his elbows on his desk and leaned toward his visitors. "I've worked in this prison for twenty years. I've seen many men-if one can call these creatures men. They can lie, cheat, and kill, but they can't hide the truth behind their eyes. If you look close, you can see into their evil souls." The warden tapped his desktop. "I've stared into the faces of a thousand men, but I've never seen eyes like his. I tell you, that man unnerves me. My advice would be to steer clear of him."

Sydney focused her gaze on the warden. Her pale blue eyes peered into his. "We want to speak with Eric Precedian, in private."

The warden tossed up his hands and shook his head. "I'm afraid that is quite out of the question. Precedian is in the Red Hats for a reason. He is violent. I can't take the chance he might attack and injure one of you."

"Red Hats?" Sydney asked.

"Solitary confinement," Warden Burl explained. "All prisons have gang problems. Whites with whites, blacks with blacks, and so on, each intimidating and terrorizing the other. In these walls, gangs are a fact of life, and we deal with the situation the best we can. Precedian didn't want to play along, so a few gang members tried to initiate him to the hard facts of prison life. We aren't sure of the details because Precedian won't cooperate, and the four gang members are dead." The warden raised his eyebrows for added emphasis. "Precedian ripped open their chests and pulled out their hearts, while they were still alive. My Lord, I've never seen so much blood."

General Franks and Colonel Nichols exchanged a surprised glance.

"Are you certain you want to continue?" Nathan asked Sydney.

She sipped her water and focused her gaze on Nathan. She replied in a calm, self-assured voice. "Yes, I want to continue."

The warden let out a nervous laugh. Fresh sweat extended under his armpits, forming circles of yellow moisture on his white shirt. "You can't be serious. Precedian is no good to anyone, I assure you. Even if I agreed, he will never talk to you. He lashes out at anyone who gets near him."

"How would you react if you were locked in a cage?" Sydney asked.

"I'm not a murderer."

"We have our reasons," General Franks added. "Please allow us to see him."

"May I ask the purpose of your visit?"

"This is a confidential military matter, outside civilian jurisdiction. I can place a call to the governor if you wish."

"No, no," Warden Burl replied with a hasty wave of his hands. "No reason to bother the governor." Mr. Burl glanced at Sydney. "You will have to walk into the prison, past one cell block. As you might imagine, the presence of an attractive, blond woman will elicit a reaction. Are you certain you want to do this?"

"Absolutely. I've been in worse places."

The warden leaned back in his chair with a respectful smile. "Yes, I'm certain you have. My guards will bring Precedian to an interview room, but you are wasting your time. He despises the government and all forms of authority."

Nathan stood and shook the warden's hand. "We appreciate your cooperation."

Sydney and Nathan followed the warden down a flight of metal stairs into the maximum-security section of the overcrowded facility. They walked beneath rows of caged men, each dressed in a white T-shirt and gray pants. Word quickly spread a woman was in the block. Conversations stilled while the prisoner's hungry eyes feasted on Sydney. She stood five feet seven inches tall, with broad shoulders and distinct curves. Years of rigorous exercise kept her fit and trim. A silver clip, decorated with an Air Force insignia, held her dark blond hair behind her blue beret. Excited convicts barked catcalls at her from their cells.

"Hey, Army bitch! Get your ass over here and suck my dick."

"I'll slap that smile off your face, cunt."

The warden tried to make light of the foul taunts. "Not much I can do to shut them up. I'm sorry."

The shouts didn't distract Sydney. She adjusted her beret and walked forward without rewarding the prisoners with a reaction. Her determined eyes focused straight ahead. After passing several checkpoints, the officers arrived at a dank interview room containing three chairs spaced around a wooden table. Evidence of violent fights marred the scarred walls. Two armed corrections officers waited beside the open door.

"I will leave you in the care of these gentlemen. Please return to my office after your interview." Warden Burl excused himself and returned to his duties.

Sydney and Nathan sat behind the wooden table. Oppressive heat filled the small room, and there was no ventilation to chase the stale air. Sweat streamed down their faces. Sydney rapped her red fingernails on the tabletop. She ignored the cellblock prisoners as they continued with their sexual insults. Her gaze drifted over the dried blood smeared on the walls and the deep gashes in the wooden table. Drab, gray paint covered everything. There were no colors and no sunlight; only metal bars, cracked cement floors, and hot, foul air.

"What a horrid place."

Nathan nodded. "No one said prison was fun."

After a few minutes, the guards led Eric Precedian into the room. He wore a soiled orange prison suit, which indicated he was a high-risk inmate. Heavy iron cuffs shackled his hands and feet. Tattooed on the right side of his neck was a blond angel blowing golden stardust from her open palms. The sultry angel had dark green eyes and lush red lips. The cautious guards waited for Precedian to sit in the chair opposite Nathan and Sydney. They shackled him to iron rings sunk deep into the cement floor. Eric stared into empty space. Black whiskers mixed with grimy sweat covered his rugged face. Purple circles hung under both eyes.

"That won't be necessary," General Franks said to the guards.

"But the warden gave strict orders he was to be chained to the floor."

"This is a United States military matter. Our interview doesn't concern the warden. You guards get out of here and leave us alone."

"But-"

"Do you fellows want to be working at a carwash next week?"

"No sir."

"Then give me the keys and find something else to do."

The concerned guards exchanged a worried glance. The officer with the keys tossed the ring on the table. "It's your funeral, man." The guards exited the interview room and bolted the door from the other side. Eric sat silently, with his chin lowered and his eyes focused forward. Dense muscles bulged from his arms. He had sloping shoulders, thick wrists...