 
Chapter 1

This was it, tonight was the night. He had been waiting for this moment for five years, though it felt like all his life. He could feel the sweat beading on his forehead, hundreds of tiny needles permeating his skin making his whole body tingle with anxiety. Jackson Stewart hadn't felt this nervous since the seconds before the elderly Virginia judge uttered out the one word that forever changed his life, "guilty". He could still hear the guttural sounds of each syllable echoing through his brain as if it were yesterday. Every morning he woke up convinced it was a bad dream, but then the pain and reality would set in as soon as he opened his eyes and saw the steel bars.Three minutes to go, he glanced at the clock attached to his cot. It was one of those old electric ones with the hands that glow in the dark. The minute hand was fading. It was too late now, everything was in motion. This was his only chance and he wasn't going to back out. He looked over at his cell mate. He was curled up in a ball on the top bunk; his fists tightly closed together. It was amazing how a man so violent could look so innocent and vulnerable while asleep. It was like looking upon an innocent young child. He never knew the exact numbers, but Carlos the Thomas as they called him had killed over twenty people or so he claimed. However, that's how it was in prison; everyone was officially innocent and unofficially a menacing serial killer except for Jackson; he spoke to no one and claimed nothing. At first, everyone thought he was different and tried to test him, but after a while they just left him alone which was what he preferred. He could probably count the amount of words, he had spoken to other inmates on one hand. Less than a minute to go. He quickly stripped off his pine colored prison shirt and pants leaving only his drab boxers and matching socks. He could feel the cold chill of the cell battling with his tightly wound nerves making his moist skin feel even pricklier. He took one more look around. It was quiet, almost eerily quiet, but he was used to that lying awake almost every night counting the hours till daylight. He looked at the clock; the second hand was less than ten seconds away from meeting its destination. He counted down the last few seconds in his mind. It was time. He moved in front of the top bunk staring at Carlos, then it was like his body went on autopilot. He rehearsed for this moment so many times. He couldn't believe it was actually happening. Gone was any fear or trepidation, instead nothing but instinct. He reached up and grabbed a large handful of Carlos's thick mangy hair, violently lifting him off the bed and onto the floor. Stunned, Carlos lay there for a second not sure what was happening before he rose up and reacted just as Jackson knew he would. He lashed out swinging his arms and striking Jackson once in the shoulder and once in the face. It was as if he could feel the blows but not the pain, nothing was going to stop him tonight. He struck back anticipating Carlos's strikes. He had seen him fight many times and knew exactly what was coming next. It was like he had a copy of the other team's playbook. They were cell mates for almost five years and communicated only by glances and territory. They had just developed a kind of understanding after living together for so long. It was almost like a marriage of convenience. Jackson lashed out with a huge right catching a surprised Carlos on the chin and sending blood splattering on the walls and beds. Carlos appeared to still be in shock, trying to fully awaken and realize his cell mate was attacking him. He watched as Carlos continued to twitch his eyes trying to focus. He was a big man, well over six feet and two hundred and fifty pounds. He quickly recovered from the blow, positioning himself upright. He cocked his arm back, but it was too late. Jackson swung a small pipe into the side of his head sending the large man crashing violently against the bunk, and smashing a small table at the other end to pieces. It was exactly as Jackson had planned. The sound was just loud enough to cause the guard to quickly come in their direction. He could hear the heavy footsteps and flashlight beam cutting a tunnel through the darkness. Seconds later, the cell door flew open and a man wearing full riot gear entered. Jackson braced himself as Carlos delivered a painful blow to the side of his temple. He felt everything around him darken, and his legs become wobbly, but he had prepared for this and when his vision came into focus again he watched the officer deliver a 900,000 volt electrical shock from a stun gun into Carlos's ravaged body. Jackson watched as the guard threw him onto the lower bunk. Despite the intense pain that was pounding his skull, Jackson smiled as he reached under his bunk and pulled out one of the syringes full of Rohypnol, he had acquired from an inmate who had offered it to him. He immediately stuck it into the leg of the surprised officer. A few seconds later, he watched the officer slump down onto the bunk alongside Carlos. Jackson immediately emptied a second full syringe into him as well. He almost jumped when the guard's radio crackled. He quietly answered speaking into the radio telling the control officer everything was okay and immediately stripped the fallen guard of his clothes. He was a new officer assigned to the night shift with roughly the same build as Jackson. His name was Melvin Hoover, making the transition easier, but he had taken all that into consideration long before. Thirty seconds later, he was dressed as a prison guard in full riot gear locking his cell door and walking across the cell block. He couldn't believe it; he had done it. He took one last look back at his cell in the dim light and confidently smiled seeing everything in place. The two men lying in the same bottom bunk, but that wasn't the first time that had occurred in prison. Twenty feet to go to the secure door to the control room. With sweat pouring down his face, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the key. He had studied these movements many times and easily found the key and opened the door squinting his eyes from the bright overhead fluorescent lights. The Sergeant, a small African American man immediately rose to his feet.

"Everything okay in there Hoover?"

Jackson nodded. "All clear. Just a bad dream."

The sergeant smiled. "We get a lot of those around here. I need you to go to "D" block and check on the new prisoner."

"No problem. I just need to go outside for a minute for a quick breath of fresh air." Jackson mumbled looking down.

"It's not break time yet Hoover."

"I know. I know. I'm just not feeling too hot." He felt like he was going to pass out and his knees were going to fall off they were shaking so much.

"No break Hoover. You need to go to "D" block." The sergeant's voice beginning to fill with anger.

"I'm going to throw up man. Give me a minute." Jackson grabbed his throat.

"Take that damn mask off. You're sweating yourself sick."

"I don't want to puke on the floor."

"You got five minutes and don't even think about going outside, use the head down the hall." He looked back at the monitors. "I got no one to cover these blocks so get going Hoover."

Jackson quickly scrambled out the door leading to a long sterile hallway marked with signs and arrows pointing to the different cell blocks. It wasn't a large prison by any means but they still housed over a thousand inmates. He kept walking straight. He knew the dimensions in his head; he had viewed it on the computer many times.

"Hoover where are you going?" The voice snarled out of the radio.

Jackson eyeing the cameras above him replied back, "I need some fresh air, just for a minute."

"Hoover I'm warning you to get back in here right now or this is going in the report." Jackson listened to him repeat himself until he made a quick right turn down a narrow hallway and came to the first of three secure doors that he easily opened with the keys. A minute later, he was standing in front of a door that had a small window in it. He could see the parking lot on the other side. He made it. He reached to turn the door, but it was locked. It needed a pass code. "Damn it!" He screamed while looking up at the ceiling feeling his pulse go out of control. He was out of camera range but he had no way out. He could hear the sergeant's irritated voice calling him through the radio. It was only a matter of minutes until they figured out he wasn't Hoover. What was he going to do? If he entered the wrong number, they would have him. How could he have missed this detail? He planned everything. He could still hear the sergeant grumbling. He had to do something quick. He couldn't go back. He accounted for everything. He reached into the back pocket of the uniform and pulled out Hoover's wallet hoping for some kind of inspiration. He was happy to see the cash, but that wasn't going to help him now if he couldn't even get out. He fumbled through all the pockets hoping and praying for a miracle but found nothing except a picture of a young girl who couldn't be more than eight reminding him of his own. He felt a tear well up. He picked up the small photo and stared into her eyes hoping she would give him an answer. Quickly stunned back into reality by the sergeant's rising voice barking through the radio, he flipped it over so he wouldn't be distracted. He couldn't believe it, there were numbers scribbled on the back. Maybe Hoover wrote the pass code down being new and everything. Perhaps luck was on his side tonight; he thought. He held his breath and quickly punched in the code and found himself outside. He couldn't believe it, his first taste of freedom in five years. He took one big breath of the fresh crisp air letting it run through his lungs and ran towards the parking lot. He had Hoover's car keys in his hand. He knew he carried them on him. He was frantically pushing the panic button until he heard the familiar sound of a car alarm. It was a light-blue Honda Civic. Jackson climbed into the car, turned the ignition and quickly pulled out of the lot heading west on the small North Carolina road. If the car's engine hadn't been so loud, he would have heard the piercing sirens that there had been an escape behind him.

Chapter 2

Sergeant Alvin Harris had been around long enough to know he had a problem when his new officer left the building. It was a major violation. He quickly called his commander and had another guard immediately dispatched to him. He could hear strange noises through the microphone coming from the same cell Hoover had been to earlier. He frowned as he watched the assigned guard leave the control station and head down the block towards the cell. He couldn't believe Hoover had left. "What is it with these new kids? They don't have any work ethic anymore," he said out lout to himself. He watched in disbelief on the video screen as a car drove out of the parking lot area, it had to be Hoover, no one came or left at this time of night. He knew it would be immediate grounds for termination; he just wasn't in the mood to fill out all the reports. He thought he had seen it all, and he probably had in his twenty years here at the North Carolina State Prison better known as "The Conduit". No one was sure where the name came from but it just stuck so that's what they all called it. It was a high-security prison; most of the inmates had committed some kind of violent crime, of course you would never know it by asking any of them. They were all one bad attorney away from freedom. He loved it here. He had started out as a new guard working the night shift, just like Hoover, but he had stuck with it and made it to sergeant. The pay wasn't bad and in five years he would have a full retirement and plenty of time to spend with his wife and six grandchildren. He quickly turned his head towards the radio, he could hear the guard laughing. "What's so funny?" He asked, thinking it was already going to be a long night. He wasn't in the mood for joking.

"I think I have found the source of our noise." Another slight laugh. "It looks like we have two lovebirds in cell 22."

That was the same cell Hoover had gone too. Harris didn't smile. He had seen this so many times. It just seemed kind of strange for these two men; they were both long-term inmates with murder charges, and from the best he could tell they didn't like each other, but what did he know, he got to leave at the end of his shift and they didn't. "All right. Break it up and get them back to their own bunks." He instructed the guard. He sat back and listened to the guard give instructions for them to return to their bunks. He kept repeating it over and over again. Probably in the heat of passion, he thought. He tried to look at the camera but it was too dark and grainy. He listened to the guard tell them he was coming into the cell. Then he heard the sound of the steel door open and then nothing for what seemed like minutes. Finally, he heard the soft faint voice of the guard say, "Sergeant, I think we got a problem."

Sergeant Harris felt the breath quickly exit his airway knowing something was wrong; he had heard these same words uttered before,"what is it?" He asked knowing he wasn't going to like the answer.

"We need EMS down here; I think we might have an OD.They're both unconscious and there are two syringes lying next to them on the bed."

Sergeant Harris immediately began typing into the computer knowing that in minutes the place would be flooded with medical personnel, and then the Captain would be down with his investigators to try and place blame somewhere. "Damn drugs." He said out loud. He knew they were the cause of over half the inmate population at the Conduit. "Any response from them? Pulse?" He yelled into the radio wondering what Hoover had found in there.

"Yeah they both have pulses and are breathing," came the excited response.

Harris sighed, "at least they were alive." He knew that no matter how hard they tried to stop the drugs from coming in they kept coming.There was always a weak point in every prison, and it seemed impossible to find it. He had been trying for twenty years.

"Something is not right here." The guard's mumbled voice stated.

"Now what?" Grumbled Harris. What else could go wrong tonight?

After a long pause, he heard the guard quietly and slowly say, "this isn't Stewart."

Harris's heart stopped beating just long enough for him to scream into the radio, "what are you telling me?" His brain had already processed what was happening.

"Hoover is wearing Stewart's clothes." That was the last thing Harris heard before he pulled the emergency alarm, instantaneously sending the dark prison to life as if it were a giant beast suddenly waking up.The huge overhead lights roared above waking groggy prisoners and nearby neighbors outside with the deafening sirens. He watched as the special task force and EMT's raced into the control room and headed to cell 22."How could this happen? Why didn't he pay more attention?" He knew he had screwed up. There would go the pension and the easy life. It was all going to come to a screeching halt, all twenty hard years of his time. He knew his phone was going to ring any second and when it did he still jumped. He quickly picked it up informing the warden exactly what had happened. He wasn't surprised when he heard the sudden click on the other end of the line without another word. It was all happening too fast.There had been a few escape attempts in his twenty years, none successful, but this was the first time it had happened to him. He immediately felt the shame and remorse that came to the officer who they determined was responsible. In the prison, someone always has to take the blame, and he knew this time it would be him. All he had to do was make the guy take his helmet off or not allow him to leave the control room. He had complete authority to prevent anyone from leaving. He turned to the video again, rewound and watched as Jackson walked down the hallway under the camera. He could see the differences now; it was so obvious it wasn't Hoover. Look at the way he is walking,way too confident, plus Jackson is much more fit. How could he miss that? He watched the car leave the parking lot; it looked like a late model Toyota or Honda, but they would have that in Hoover's records. He began typing in all the information he had and hit the send button hoping that it would help. He knew ninety-nine percent of all prisoners were caught within twenty-four hours and usually near the facility they had escaped from. They just weren't equipped to handle the outside. There were too many factors, the media attention being the main one. Especially from The Conduit, this was where they housed the most dangerous ones. He didn't know Stewart that well, no one did. He kept to himself all the time. He did perform maintenance on the computers in the prison, something about him being a computer expert, but he wasn't sure. He had never read through his file that closely. He knew the guy had to be intelligent, but no one seemed to know anything about him. He was serving twenty years for murder, though he claimed he didn't pull the trigger. He said he had been set up, same story different inmate. He never understood all that computer stuff anyway. "He'll be caught soon enough," he thought. "And they'll drag him back in here to a loud applause from the other inmates who will look at him as some kind of hero, but what they won't realize is that he'll get at least another five years tacked on to his sentence." He took a long look at the outside monitor watching the stream of police cars line up and prepare to head down Alban Street in pursuit of Jackson Stewart.

Chapter 3

Warden John Dever was flying down Route 85 in his candy-colored blue Corvette. It was normally a twenty-minute commute, but tonight he would do it in less than ten. He passed several police cars headed west with their sirens and lights flashing turning the dark night into a blazing firestorm. He had already called the Governor, alerting him to what had happened and what was about to happen. He was in his tenth year as warden and had never had any successful escapes.Two inmates had attempted to climb over the wall, but they were both caught before they made it over. This was the first case an inmate had gotten out, and he was in a car and not on foot so they didn't need to get the dogs out at least yet. He was always amazed at how much effort the escapees put into their escape plan, but for some reason, they always forgot to figure out how they were going to get far enough away from the prison once they got outside, but maybe this one was different. He stole a car from the prison's lot. He had already been briefed that they were looking for a light blue-colored Honda Civic with a man dressed as one of his guards. He would deal with the guard issue later. He hated to admit it, but the escapee; Jackson Stewart had been clever getting out of the prison especially outsmarting a twenty-year veteran sergeant. It was almost the perfect escape plan.The guard was almost identical in size, and he knew he would be wearing riot gear and he had access to his car keys and car.What he didn't understand was how Stewart had been able to get out of the prison's secure doors. He would be looking into that as well as every other procedure for the overnight shifts after this matter was over. He felt his heart began to rev up as he pulled onto Alban Road, police cars were still speeding down the road and the last thing he needed was an accident tonight. He immediately slowed down, shifting the large clutch into third gear. He loved the Corvette; he awarded himself earlier in the year with it after reaching the ten year mark as a warden. He still loved the job. He lived for high-stress moments. He had spent twenty years as a Marine Corp Infantry officer before joining the correction's field so he was used to dealing with any kind of situation. He was ready for a search; he always was...it was part of the job. His men said he had a sixth sense for this kind of thing. He knew if it went on longer than a few hours, the Marshalls would be called in, so he knew he had to get started right away. He didn't like dealing with outsiders; it was his prison, his prisoners. He pulled into the crowded parking lot. There were law enforcement cars everywhere, mostly awaiting assignments from their superiors. He was happy to see the system he had put in place for just this kind of thing was working. He frowned knowing it was only a matter of minutes, before the damn press would show up and he would have to give a conference and answer questions about a man he knew nothing about, except that he was serving a twenty-year sentence for committing murder. He had been briefed by the night commander whom informed him Jackson Stewart was a quiet unassuming guy who had been a computer specialist in his previous life. He had hacked into a system and gained access to a building, shooting a security guard when things went bad. He quickly walked to the makeshift command center that had been set up from his contingency plans. They figured Stewart had about a seven-minute jump on them, not a lot of time, but enough to keep this going for a little longer than he wanted. He had three choppers on the way from the State Police that should be here in the next ten minutes. He grabbed Stewart's file from one of his officers and jumped in an unmarked police cruiser pulling onto Alban Road.

"Where to Warden?" The young officer asked not taking his eyes off the road as the car began to accelerate.

Warden Dever took a long look out the passenger window. "Get out on 85 and let's take the second exit."

The officer nodded and continued to increase the speed of the cruiser.Warden Dever pulled down the passenger visor and straightened his salt and pepper hair onto his head. His glassy steel blue eyes stared back at him. He recognized the look on his face; it was the same one he got every time he dealt with a tense situation. He flipped the visor back up and closed his eyes. He was trying to put himself in Stewart's position. It was the same thing he did back in the Corp. He always played the part of the enemy in his mind. For some reason, he just had a natural instinct at knowing the enemy's moves. He knew the obvious move was to get off the first exit or to navigate the back roads, but as smart as he figured Stewart was; he wouldn't go for the usual routes he would try to outsmart the hunters. He had all the back roads covered by now. There were twenty or thirty police cars roaming the side streets looking for a light-blue Honda.The State Police were blanketing Route 85, so any intelligent prisoner trying to escape would be smart to stay off those two routes. He also knew he would probably try and ditch the car and uniform making it imperative that they get to where he was sooner rather than later. His biggest concern was that Stewart had help on the outside, if that was the case he could get through the net. He had a pretty good feeling about that not being the case because they had no outside communication from Stewart to anyone other than his wife and young daughter, and even that was limited. He already had someone alerting them to Stewart's escape. He knew that was probably his destination, the family was always the first place they would look because escapees go back to what they know. He hoped it wouldn't come to that, they needed to catch him before he got out of the immediate vicinity. Plus, the hype of an escaped inmate on the loose was a community nightmare. Luckily, they had time on their side being early in the morning, most folks would still be sleeping and he hoped by the time they woke up, Stewart would be back where he belonged. He would give a good strong speech on how they would review their lock-up procedures and prevent this from ever happening again, which was exactly what he was going to do. He vowed never to let it happen again, even if it meant he had to stand guard at the door himself. He watched as the officer pulled off Alban Road and quickly climbed up the entrance ramp to Route 85. The traffic was light as expected except for the Trooper's cars racing north and south.They quickly accelerated and within five minutes they approached the first exit, Dever felt his mouth began to speak, but his gut quickly stopped him and they continued driving, the Virginia state line was only a few miles away now. He looked at the dashboard clock, it said 2:41.

"Can we speed up a little bit officer?" The officer nodded and Dever felt the cruiser suddenly lurch forward, the scenery blurring past his peripheral.They finally slowed as they neared the second exit, there was been a sign for two restaurants and two hotels and several gas stations. Dever felt his instincts kick in; he knew Stewart was nearby. He could just feel it. The hair on the back of his neck was standing straight up. "Pull in here." He pointed at the approaching diner. It was one of those twenty-four hour places that attract truck drivers or those who travel at night. The parking lot was crowded, filled mostly by large rigs, but there were several cars parked there as well.They quickly scanned the parking lot and after not seeing any small Hondas they pulled into the Denny's parking lot across the street.There were only two cars in the lot, both large SUV's. Dever quickly ruled the place out and signaled for the officer to continue on. He frowned realizing his mistake and motioned for the officer to hurry to the closest hotel. He should have gone here first. It was a large inn, one of the national chains, and it was full of cars. There was even a no vacancy sign flashing just like out of one of those gruesome horror movies. Before they even rounded the back of the structure, they had already seen two light-blue Honda Civics. "He wouldn't be dumb enough to check into the hotel?" Dever said out loud aloud forcing the officer to nod in agreement. They were waiting for a confirmation on the license plate of the light blue one. After a long thirty seconds, they received word that it was the car. They had him. Dever felt the hair rising again on his neck as he and the officer jumped out of the car with their guns drawn. They approached the dark vehicle slowly from the back hoping to catch Stewart by surprise. There was someone in the back, Dever could see the outline. He motioned for the officer to hold back. He crept up to the back window, his finger ready on the trigger. He could see the Guard's helmet reflecting the light. Could Stewart be asleep in the backseat? It couldn't be this easy, he told himself as his finger eased back on the trigger. He snapped his body up to the back window prepared to fire when he saw the crumpled uniform lying on the backseat propped up to look like it was a body. "Damn," he slammed his weapon against the vehicle. "He's close. Let's search the parking lot and check with the clerk." He looked up in the dark sky. "Where are those damn helicopters?" He called in on his radio to report he had the vehicle and they were closing in. He knew Stewart was still close probably hiding behind a nearby tree or a car. He was going to catch him soon, that he was sure of. He slowly checked behind each car as the officer entered into the front door. He knew he had to put himself in Stewart's shoes, that was how he would catch him. He suddenly ran off towards a rustling sound coming from an empty spot about fifty feet away. He had him.

Chapter 4

Jackson wasn't surprised they had tracked him to the hotel; he just didn't think it would happen so quickly. He could hear the sirens en-route to his location and knew it was only a matter of time before he would be surrounded. He had to do something quick, or he was going back to the cage he so detested. His pulse was pounding so loudly in his head that he couldn't believe the Warden didn't walk right up to him. "How was it he had found him anyway?" He thought. "Why couldn't it be an officer like he had counted on?" This was one contingency he hadn't figured out yet. He brushed up against the tree, positive there was no way anyone could see him because it was way too dark, but Warden John Dever was walking straight towards him.There was no way he could see in the dark. He had to do something and he had to do it right now. He could see the Warden's gun pointed out in front of him, it was like he was aiming directly at him. He shouldn't have come back, but he had to check for Hoover's driver's license; it had fallen out of the wallet when he was checking for money. He had already broken into a small Toyota. He had it parked behind the gas station just on the other side of the woods. He could use the ID, but it was too late for that now. He slowly took a step backwards hearing his footstep on a dry leave making a loud crackle. He watched as the Warden quickly turned his head, it was like he was a ravenous predator about to make a kill on one of those discovery channels. He thought he could almost see a sparkle in the old man's eyes. He had no choice. He had to make a break for it. He knew he was younger and faster, but he couldn't outrun a speeding bullet or a squadron of police cars that sounded like they were only a minute or two away. He instantly turned around breaking through the woods at top speed. He could hear the Warden shouting for him to stop, but he didn't even turn his head. He was in reasonable shape from the jogging he did in the courtyard, but this was sprinting and he could feel his muscles and tendons straining on each step. He hoped he didn't pull a hamstring or something. He was careful to look down so he wouldn't trip on a branch or rock, but he could hear the footsteps behind him coming fast. The Warden was catching up. "How could that be?" He thought."The guy had to be in his mid-sixties, and he was at least twenty years younger. He kept running faster and faster with each step. It was about a hundred yards until he exited the woods and then what? He would be in front of a gas station in a big open lot that would make easy target practice for any trained shooter. He could hear the police cars closing in even closer. He wasn't going back like this.There was no way. He wasn't ready to die either, his only choice was escape. The plan had been years in the making, ever since Michelle had told him he needed to come home. It had been so easy to get out of the prison. He kept wondering why it was so hard to get away. He just wanted to go north and see his daughter. She was five now. He hadn't seen her since she was two. She was born with a hole in her heart and had to get surgery within a month after she was born. It was so terrifying. Every minute of every day, his thoughts had been on her and they still were here locked up in the Conduit. He and Michelle had agreed they didn't want to bring her to visit him in prison. They agreed to keep his prison time away from her mind. Eventually, she would find out anyway. Once she was old enough to understand, but for now; they chose to keep her innocence. Michelle still visited him whenever she could, but it wasn't often enough. He longed just to touch both of them, to hold them both in his arms just for a minute without a piece of glass or some bulky sheriff between them.There was no way he wasn't going to see her again, steel bars or not. Twenty yards to go. He took a peak back and he could see the large figure behind him springing through the woods as if he were a graceful deer. Some guys were just naturals in the woods and some weren't. He had heard the stories of the Warden's time in the Marines, some kind of legendary Infantry leader, and he was seeing that now. He was finally out of the woods and in the parking lot. The pavement felt good under his feet. He felt himself accelerate a little bit. He needed to take advantage of this while the Warden was still in the woods. If he had called on his radio, there was no chance of escape, the police cars would soon surround the gas station and his freedom would be over. He quickly raced towards the back of the building. It was a twenty-four hour station, so all the bright lights were illuminating the grounds as if it were the middle of the day. He kept waiting for an explosion behind him and a tiny piece of lead to crash into his flesh and either end his life or at least his escape. The Warden was out of the woods heading directly at him. He could see the blue lights behind him heading down the exit ramp; it felt like the whole world was closing in. He quickly dashed behind the building, momentarily out of sight of the Warden. The blue Toyota was only a few feet away, but instead of running to the car, he stopped behind the corner wall and contemplated doing something he would probably regret. He had a twenty-year murder sentence. He couldn't live without his family. He and Michelle had given all they had those first two years after Stephanie was born.They used to take turns every other night lying awake next to her making sure she was breathing through the night. Michelle had told him she was doing much better these last few years, but he still needed to see her, and she agreed. She was his life, not some steel cage he was living in filled with violent animals. He knew he couldn't wait till Stephanie was twenty-five to see her again. He crouched down behind the wall. He could hear the approaching footsteps they were coming fast and hard. It was going to have to be a perfectly executed, and he knew it would be something he would hate himself for doing, but he had to do it, despite the consequences. He couldn't stop now, even if it was not the right thing to do. He knew he was making bad decision, number two in his life, or was it three now. He didn't know anymore. Was it ever going to stop? Maybe he was turning into one of the violent criminals he had been living with the last five years. He didn't know anymore. Here came the Warden. He could hear the heavy breathing, or was that his? This was going to determine the rest of his life. He sprang into action.

Chapter 5

Warden Dever felt his instincts kick into high gear; something made his nose twinge. It was the same thing he always felt when he was in the jungle leading his men, he just knew danger was close by. He slowed as he approached the back of the gas station. He knew Stewart had taken off behind it, probably running to escape deep into the woods behind it. If he only knew a dog could pick up his scent in less than five minutes. He slowed down to a walk, something had tweaked his senses. He was listening to his gut, even though his mind wanted to continue running after Stewart. He really hoped he didn't have to fire his weapon, but if he had to he was prepared. He knew there was nothing more desperate than an escaped prisoner on the run. They would do anything to prevent capture, even if it meant killing someone, and plus this guy was in for murder. He slowly rounded the corner; his firearm held out in front of him and his finger on the trigger. It would only be a split-second decision on whether to fire. It was never a process where you had a chance to think. You just acted on your instinct and training and hoped and prayed you did the right thing. He still remembered his first kill in the Marines. It had happened so fast that he hadn't even had time to think about it until he had dropped three more of the enemy. It wasn't like the movies; it was so real, the blood and the lifeless body and the eyes; he could never forget the eyes. He clearly remembered every set of eyes he had ever taken a life from. It never got easier, but it became more bearable, maybe because he reasoned they would kill him or worse one of his men if he didn't pull the trigger. He didn't want to experience that tonight. He would do everything he could to try to bring him in unharmed.

"What the hell is going on?" He screamed out feeling his body twinge and fall to the ground. He felt his weapon fall out of his hand and land somewhere in the dark. He had no control of his muscles. They all seemed to fail at once. He was incapacitated. He couldn't believe it. He wasn't sure what had happened. He lie stunned on the ground looking up at a crescent moon. It wasn't until about three minutes later he felt his mind and body began to speak to each other again. He felt besides his leg, his hand still trembling and tried to pick up the Taser gun lying next to him. He had been hit with Hoover's gun. He had been through all the training, but he had never experienced a full shock and his body was letting him know. He reached for his radio, before realizing it was gone. Stewart had gotten his radio and his gun. He wasn't sure what to do; the shock had taken everything out of him. He tried to get up to yell for everyone to come to him, but he couldn't move. He could see the swarm of blue flashing lights in the parking lot of the hotel on the other side of the woods. He had never called to let them know he was at the gas station. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a car pull out of the gas-station parking lot and head east. He had to alert his men, but he couldn't move his feet; he still couldn't even get up. He began yelling frantically, but quickly gave out hearing his voice drain out from the sound of frantic sirens. He couldn't let Stewart get away. Hopefully, he had run off in the woods behind the station because they would have him in no time. He tried to smile as he heard the familiar sound of rotors cutting their blades through the sky. He looked up and saw the two helicopters hovering above waiting for their next command, if only he could give it. He was finally able to get to his knees and began crawling towards the hotel. He knew every moment he wasted would be another moment further away Stewart would get. He suddenly stopped, remembering his cell phone. He reached his hand inside his jacket pocket; it was empty; Stewart had gotten that too. His mind perked thinking they might have a chance to track him through the phone's built in GPS, just maybe Stewart wasn't aware of that feature after being in prison for the last five years. They needed an advantage, although right now he would take any kind of break, especially one that would at least allow him to walk. Finally, ten minutes later, he exited out of the woods into the hotel parking lot.

"Warden. What happened to you?" Captain Wilson, a big burley man with a mustache as thick as a man's arm asked. "I had him. He was right over there." He pointed through the woods at the gas station. Several officers immediately responded running through the woods.

"What happened?"

"He got me with this." He pulled the Taser gun out of his pocket.

"Ouch." Captain Wilson studied the gun. "Don't worry he can't be far. We'll get him."

"That's the problem. He may have a car."

"We got the car. We're going through it right now." He pointed at the light blue Honda.

"No, another one."

"Did you see it?"

Shaking his head, Warden Dever responded, "No I couldn't see much of anything. This thing wiped me out." He threw the gun onto the pavement. "I want one of them choppers out on the road and the other one on the woods back there in case he is in there."

"Roger that Warden." He spoke into his radio and relayed the directions.

"Where are the dogs?"

"They are all over these woods." He pointed behind them.

"He's over there." The Warden pointed behind the gas station.

"Just relax Warden, if he's in there we got him. Those dogs can sniff him out a mile away. Why don't you relax over there for a few minutes?" He pointed at an unoccupied police car.

"Better yet Captain, why don't you give me the keys to that car, and I'll go get him."

"As you wish, but I think you would be better resting for a few moments." He threw the keys to him.

"Every moment I rest is another mile he is further away. I've already wasted too many minutes because of that." He pointed at the gun, jumped in the front seat of the unmarked cruiser and pulled out screaming back towards the highway.

Chapter 6

Jackson was still shaking as he clutched the wheel. He wasn't sure if it was from the tension of almost being caught or having to shoot the Warden with that thing. He didn't want to do it, but he knew he had had no choice. He had gotten a Toyota Camry; it was the most innocuous looking car available, but he just hoped the Warden hadn't seen it. He looked like he was dead lying on the ground like that. He hoped he would survive the voltage. He was a tough guy. He decided to head the opposite direction of the highway and keep on heading down the exit road. He was about ten miles away from the hotel and gas station where he figured the police were actively searching. He had heard the helicopters but they seemed to be staying in that area. They must have figured he was still on foot. He wasn't sure where he was heading. None of this was supposed to happen, he was just supposed to get in the car and drive far enough away to blend in somewhere, but somehow it had all gone wrong. There was no way he was going back though, that he was sure. He looked down at the picture of his daughter in his hand. It was obviously taken at school, some kind of singing thing that he had missed. He knew those days were behind him. He was going to attend everything now. Things were going to be like they were before. He just had to get out of here without being caught. He still didn't understand how the Warden knew exactly where he was, it was like he was in on the plans the whole time. He kept looking in the rearview mirror expecting to see him right behind him, but instead he saw nothing but darkness all around him. There weren't even houses anymore just deep dark woods. He continued driving until he saw some light up ahead. It was a small service station, not a name brand or anything, just an old run down family operated place. It was perfect. He pulled in, quickly diminished his lights and drove behind the small garage. There were a half-dozen old rusted out vehicles up on blocks, so he pulled the Toyota between two of them. There was just enough room. He looked down at his watch, it was the guard's. He saw it was already 4:00 AM. He only had a few hours left and he still wasn't going in the right direction. Once daylight came he would be left out in the open. He stepped out of his car and walked around the front. There were four cars parked there that probably needed service or were completed. He took his chances on a Chevy pickup truck hoping it was one that was already repaired. He didn't know how to hot-wire it, so he had to break the small glass panel on the door to the office to find the keys. He found them hanging on a hook with the name Johnson taped to it. They were the only Chevy keys there. He had just committed another crime. He didn't like how things were happening, but it was too late he reasoned and jogged out to the truck and it fired right up. He took in a deep breath and took another look at Stephanie's picture and smiled like he always did whenever he thought about her as well as Michelle. It would probably only be a few days till he would be with them. He slowly pulled out of the station and continued going east down the long dark road not sure of where he was heading or what was going to happen, but one thing he was sure of he would do whatever it took to stay out of that prison, well almost anything he hoped. He had already assaulted the Warden with a Taser gun, stolen three cars and broke into a gas station, what else will he have to do? He placed the picture on the passenger seat beside him and suddenly felt as though luck was on his side because plugged into the outlet was a GPS unit. He quickly powered it on and eventually it showed him driving along the small road. He typed in a Washington, DC address and waited for about five minutes until the computer animated voice stopped telling him to turn around and recalculated his route. Five miles ahead, he would make a left-hand turn that would lead him to 95. He took a deep breath of relief. There were about fifteen different roads he would be on first, but that was a good thing or so he thought.

Chapter 7

Warden Dever quickly swung the cruiser around before getting on Rt. 85. There was no reason for him to be on there with the chopper hovering above, and besides they didn't even know what kind of car they were looking for. He picked up the radio. "Hey any word from the gas-station owner if there is a missing car?"

"He's here now. He thinks it's a blue Toyota Camry." Once again, he tried to put himself in Jackson's mind. He immediately stepped on the accelerator, flicked on the berries and began heading east away from the highway. It was a hunch, but it felt good. He passed the hotel and gas station which now looked like a blur with all the blue lights swirling about. He was convinced they were wasting their time searching for him in the woods. He was sure he was in a vehicle, and his hunch was confirmed when the officer responded on the radio that they were on the lookout for a dark-blue late model Camry. He could hear the rotors turning above him and suddenly got an idea. He called the chopper pilot on the radio and had him land in the gas-station parking lot and jumped in. There was no way he was going to catch him by vehicle but by air, he still had a chance. He felt the rush of memories as the chopper lifted off making him feel as though he were back in the war zone, but he quickly pushed them from his mind and directed the pilot to follow the road going east. In minutes, they were flying over a deserted road with no traffic or even homes. It was black. The chopper was equipped with a thermal imaging camera but there was no reason to use it, because one thing he was sure about Jackson Stewart was not on foot. He had gone through too much planning to sit around and hide behind some rock or tree where he could easily be found once the sun came up. Nope, there was something different about this, he was for real and he was escaping right between his fingers; he could just feel it. He called to the pilot, seeing a car up ahead on the road. They slowed down and began to hover above it. They were still too high, and it was too dark to see the vehicle, but the Warden could feel his pulse began to tingle.

"Bring it down." The Warden yelled into the mouthpiece feeling his patience disappearing quickly. He felt the chopper lower itself until they were almost on top of it. It looked like a foreign car, maybe a Jetta or a Passat, he always got those two confused. They pulled slightly ahead of the vehicle and watched as the driver took notice of them and almost swerved off the road. The Warden knew it wasn't him. He already had that feeling, but he took a look through the night lens to be sure and wasn't surprised when he saw an elderly man, clearly not Jackson glaring back. He waved at the pilot to continue. He knew time was running out, and he would have to make a statement to the press shortly if they didn't capture him. He decided he wasn't going to even think about what he was going to say because that would mean he was giving up, and that was something Warden Dever never did. He closed his eyes thinking about the first Gulf War; he was a Colonel then and insisted leading from the field, not from the desk. In fact, he had his desk literally taken out of his office to symbolize that. He wanted to be among the men. He didn't care if they were enlisted or sworn officers, he saw everyone as a Marine, not as a rank, and he called everyone Marine no matter their rank either. He knew the men respected him. He had done it all, led combat troops in Panama and the Middle East during every conflict after. He had even thought about going back in after September 11th, but they had begged him to stay in his current post, which he finally gave in to. It also didn't help that his wife gave him the ultimatum between her and the Marines and after a twenty-plus year career he decided to choose her this time. It had been a smart decision because they had enjoyed each other's company these last ten years.

"Warden we have some lights up ahead, maybe some stores." The voice in his headphones chirped startling him.

"What's that...ahh...say that again?"

"See the lights up there." He could see what looked like a small service station and a convenience store or two.

"Bring it down up there." He pointed at the tiny parking lot in front of the station. Instead, the chopper landed in the middle-of-the-road. The Warden jumped out in combat speed running towards the station. It only took a minute for him to notice the broken glass near the door. "He has been here." He thought. He entered the small office trying to look for any clues. He was about to leave when he saw the paper on the floor. It was a completed service ticket for a Chevy pickup. He ran into the parking lot searching for a pickup and didn't see anything, but as soon as he got around back he saw a dark-blue Camry with a warm hood. He immediately called in on his radio letting everyone know that he was on to Jackson again, and they had a new car to look for. He felt his adrenaline heat up. It would take the officers a little while to get here, but he knew they were closing in. It was only a matter of time now until he would be presenting Jackson Stewart to the press.

Jackson could feel the sweat running down his face, there was no air in the truck, and he wasn't used to humid outside air after being locked up in an air-conditioned facility. He thought he could hear the sound of helicopters above him, but he figured his mind was playing tricks on him. There was no way they could be close to him. This was his third car, and he was heading away from the station, but there it was again. It was a helicopter. He shut down the engine and listened. Behind him, he could hear it, and it was coming his way. He wasn't sure what to do. His mind was flying in all different directions. He always planned for everything. Ever since he could remember, he would spend hours if not days learning about something before he did it, so he would know exactly what to expect. He only wished he had spent more time on his escape plan outside the prison walls instead of in it. It was easy with the use of a computer every day. It had started when the guards found out he was a computer guru, and they immediately put him in charge of the library. There were twenty or so computers all configured for local use with the only outside access to Lexis/Nexus, but with a few twists, he was easily able to outsmart the security, and he had full access to the web. He even spent time tweaking the guards and the administrative staff's computers. Some of them even brought their computers from home in for him to look at. He enjoyed it. It made him feel like he was back on the outside in his old job as a technology consultant. He loved that job; he had access to all the newest technology available and spent most of his time testing and evaluating new equipment. It was a kind of a dream job to him, which he spent all day and night doing. Once Stephanie was born he made himself leave work every day at 5:00 PM, hours earlier than he had previously. He would then spend the rest of the night doting over her until she went to sleep. He so longed for that life again. He could still smell her sweet breath on his face and her soft skin against his. Why did he do it? He yelled out the window. He quickly fired up the engine and pulled back out onto the road. He pushed on the accelerator until he was doing about ninety. He wasn't sure how fast helicopters could go, but he was pretty sure he could buy a few more minutes. After about five minutes, he quickly slammed on the brakes slowing the old truck down. Up ahead there was a station wagon driving very slowly swerving both to the he right and left. He watched as it periodically stopped. At first, he wasn't sure what it was stopping for, but then he realized it was a newspaper delivery driver, and the guy was throwing newspapers into long dark driveways that he hadn't noticed until now. He suddenly had an idea. He whizzed by the startled driver pressing on the accelerator until he felt the truck become out of control and smash into a large tree on the side of the road almost cutting it in half.

Chapter 8

"There he is." Warden Dever yelled into the mic signaling the pilot towards the pickup truck, its hood appearing to be halfway into the woods. It wasn't until they got closer than he realized the truck had struck a tree almost dead on. As soon as he felt the skids hit the pavement, he raced out the doors followed by the copilot. They both had their pistols pointed towards the driver's door as they made their way over. The Warden felt his body tingling with emotion. It was a feeling he had been waiting for ever since he first heard the news of an escapee. He could see a body slumped against the dashboard that didn't appear to be moving. He waved off the copilot and slowly opened the door ensuring Jackson's lifeless body remained in the truck. His eyes were closed and his body was limp, but the Warden did feel a slight pulse, so he immediately called for the EMT's. He really hoped they would get here in time. He needed to bring him back alive. He didn't want to go to the press with a dead prisoner. These were his prisoners and it was his responsibility to ensure their safety as they served out their punishments. He wasn't one to mingle with the inmates. In fact, he rarely had even a conversation with any of them. He left that to his guards. He didn't want to have to make any tough decisions and have a relationship with a prisoner influence it, not that they would, but it just felt right. Plus he felt his job was to manage the prison and its staff and leave the prisoner control to that of his well-trained officers which he carefully screened and trained individually. Although he had just had a mal-function with the escape, he knew it would be rectified by the end of the day. He vowed to himself; he would never let another one escape. He would just have to come up with a better intelligence system. He looked over at the copilot who had removed his helmet. He was a middle-aged police sergeant he had worked with before. He was a well-trained officer who loved to fly and had the vision of an eagle. He was curiously staring at Jackson.

"Can we put him on the chopper to get him to a hospital?"

The copilot shook his head. "We don't have any equipment on board. Plus there's a hospital a few miles down this road."

"Where are we?"

"We're about three miles east of Roanoke Rapids."

Warden Dever looked down. "I didn't realize we had traveled that far."

"95 is right over there." He pointed down the road. They both turned their heads in the other direction when they heard the sirens. Warden Dever checked Jackson's pulse again and felt his labored breath on his cheek. The guy was still alive, but he wasn't sure for how much longer. A minute later, the truck's interior turned into a red blinking disco as an ambulance pulled in. The Warden stepped back as the EMT's took over. They quickly placed his body onto a gurney with a c-collar. Dever had to take a second look at Jackson's face and body as they moved him to the ambulance. He looked a bit older and heavier than he remembered, but that was what trauma looked like with the swelling and violence. He quickly remembered seeing his fellow Marines after being shot up. He tried to imagine what he must have been thinking right before the truck struck the tree. Maybe he didn't know it was coming, or maybe he did it on purpose knowing an escape wasn't possible. He watched as they hooked up the IV's and placed him into the ambulance. They didn't seem overly panicked so maybe he was going to live. He ran over to the back of the ambulance and jumped in startling the two EMT's with their backs to him.

"I need to ride with you guys. This is an escaped prisoner."

They both quickly turned their heads and nodded in surprise. "An escaped prisoner? Are you serious? From the Conduit?"

Warden Dever nodded yes in response.

"Wait a minute," The younger of the two responded. He was no more than thirty with medium-length sandy blond hair. "You're the Warden. I've seen you on TV."

"That is correct; I'm Warden Dever. Can you tell me his chances?" They all looked down at Jackson wrapped up in a sheet, an oxygen mask covering his face and a towel on his forehead.

The younger one shook his head, "I'm not sure. We didn't find any obvious bruises or injuries he just seems to be comatose. His vitals are stable but low. We need to get him to Memorial as soon as possible, it could be a head blow and there may be swelling. I've got my fingers crossed because when you can't see anything external it's usually internal." Dever nodded.

The older and more serious looking of the two EMT's replied, "He obviously wasn't wearing a seatbelt so he should be seriously injured. Who is this guy Superman?"

"He's in pretty good shape from what I hear. Works out like a madman back at the Conduit." The Warden replied not taking his eyes of Jackson.

"This guy? You've got to be kidding. Look at these arms." He pulled back the sheet exposing Jackson's upper arms. "They have never seen a dumbbell."

"Maybe he's a runner." The EMT's nodded in agreement.

Dever wasn't sure what to think he just stared at Jackson as he felt the ambulance lurch forward. He just kept hoping he would survive the ride over to the hospital. He watched as the two technicians kept monitoring his blood pressure and pulse rates and kept shaking their heads in confusion. Warden Dever sat back and just watched trying to put together his remarks for the two scenarios of Jackson being alive or dead. He concentrated on the first. He tried to speed the ambulance ahead with his mind. He closed his eyes and thought about all the events that had led to this moment. He had been sound asleep next to his wife after a night out with friends and then came the middle of the night phone call that immediately had him half-way dressed before he even answered the phone. His wife had kidded him that he should have been a fire man with his quick response and right now he was wishing he had chosen that profession. It sure would make a much easier day ahead with the press and the prison staff. It would be weeks until things would settle back down at the Conduit. Everyone would be on heightened alert for the time, which isn't a bad thing for a prison, but from what he had learned in combat, men on heightened alert for extended periods of time began to wear down and make mistakes. He would have to allow the staff and prisoners some time to cool down and get things in order. It would be tough, but it would work; it always did. He took one last look at Jackson and then pulled out his iPhone preparing to begin making all the necessary calls.

Chapter 9

Jackson tried to smile as he felt the vehicle make the final turn. Things couldn't have gone any better. He didn't think he would be able to pull it off, but once he saw that newspaper guy he had to give it a try. He was a little banged up and bleeding in a few places, but all in all, it wasn't too bad for a guy who jumped out of a moving truck and landed on pavement. He had been able to watch the truck collide with those trees it had been spectacular, almost like a movie. He had stayed and watched for a minute, but he knew he had to act quickly before that newspaper guy got there. He had hidden in front of the truck until the old station wagon rattled up and stopped. The man who was in his mid-fifties and outweighed him by about thirty pounds stumbled out of the car and began walking towards the banged-up truck. He waited until he was close enough, and then he leaped towards him, injecting him with another Rohypnol syringe he had on him. He only had one left. It was a great trade. In seconds, the man became limp, and he dragged him behind the wheel and shut the door. He quickly jumped in the station wagon and took off before the helicopter arrived. He didn't look back, but he could feel his freedom creeping into his body as he pulled onto the crowded I-95 full of midnight travelers and early-bird workers, which he had once been a part of. He easily blended into the ongoing traffic and powered on the radio to one of the many Richmond pop hit stations. He was feeling pretty good. The best he felt in five years. It would only be a matter of time now till he would see and feel Stephanie and Michelle. He imagined the authorities would contact them shortly if they hadn't already, so he would have to be patient, but he didn't mind. He had the rest of his life to make up for the lost time, and he was going to make the most of it. He watched a State Trooper speed down the southbound lanes probably not aware of what he was looking for. He knew he needed to ditch this car as soon as possible and smiled for the second time when he saw the sign for a rest area ahead. A few minutes later, he pulled into the dark rest area. He was immediately aware something wasn't right, and it wasn't till he saw the construction sign, and another State Trooper vehicle that he felt his smile fade. He carefully watched as the Trooper eyed him as he drove by the main building. He wasn't sure what he was going to do if he tried to stop him, and he hoped he wouldn't have to find out, but he was relieved when he pulled back out onto the highway without any sign of the police vehicle behind him. The next fifteen minutes were a little stressful as he continued to look into his rearview waiting for the blue swirling lights to fill his mirror, but nothing happened and he pulled off a busy exit full of hotels and restaurants. It didn't take him long to find a crowded commuter train lot to lose the station wagon in and acquire a new vehicle. Thank God for workaholics like himself. In a few minutes, he was cruising north in a Toyota Prius, the perfect blending-in type of car he had hoped for.

"Warden Dever. Can I speak to you?" The tall lanky doctor asked removing his reading glasses. Warden Dever immediately jumped up from the emergency room chair he was seated on outside of Jackson's room.

"Yes, what is it Doctor?" He was waiting to hear the words come out of the doctor's mouth that he hadn't made it, but instead what he heard was far worse. He suddenly felt himself become unstable and felt the doctor's hands steady him.

"This man in there is not Jackson Stewart. There was no way he was in that accident. He was induced with a drug." He slipped the glasses back on. "We received Mr. Stewart's medical records from the prison, and this is not him. We are still trying to find out who it is."

"What are you talking about?" He didn't even recognize his own voice any more.

"Were not sure what drug was used, but it placed him in a comatose state. He'll be in it for another hour or so."

"That's just like what he did to our guard at The Conduit."

He's used this drug before?" The doctor looked over his glasses.

Warden Dever immediately turned around and felt like screaming. "Yes tonight in a cell. That's how he escaped.

"Okay. I need to call the prison and get that info. I'm sorry Warden."

He felt his feet move beneath him and began sprinting towards the front door. There were several police cruisers parked outside. He walked up to the closest one. "Let's go. We need to get to I-95 immediately." The young officer nodded in response and they both jumped in the car and sped away. Warden Dever was screaming into his radio directing all officers towards 95. There was no way he was going to get by him again. He couldn't believe he was fooled into thinking that was Jackson. Despite the darkness, he should have checked him more closely. He didn't even think something like that was possible. He needed to find out more about this Jackson Stewart. He ordered that photos be passed out to every officer so something like this didn't happen again. He had had him, he was in his grasp. If only he had had a picture maybe he would be sitting in the back of the cruiser instead of out there somewhere eluding him. He had probably been no more than two minutes away from that staged accident. This was turning out to be much more than he could have ever expected. He reached into his pocket and immediately tore up the speech he had been working on and threw it onto the cruiser's floor catching the eye of the officer who immediately turned his head back towards the road. He felt his iPhone began to vibrate and pushed the talk button waiting for more bad news. What else could go wrong now he thought?

"Hey Warden, it's Captain Wilson. We just got word that the guy in the hospital is a newspaper delivery guy who was on the road at the same time. Somehow your boy switched places with him." The Warden felt his heartbeat tinge. There was that excitement again, must be the same thing a bloodhound feels, he thought.

"Have we got any info on the car?"

"It's a late model Oldsmobile station wagon. Not sure of the exact model. We got some guys taking his wife to the hospital now."

"I'm on it. I'm heading up 95 now. He's got to be going north."

"I dispatched all my guys to the highway after getting your message. I hope you're right."

"I hope so too." The Warden hit the red button to disconnect the call. He knew who the next call would be from and it was only a minute later that he saw the familiar number of the Governor.

"Hello Governor."

"What's going on out there John? Are you getting any closer?" He cringed, hearing the loud brash voice through the speaker.

"I'm not sure Governor. We know what kind of car he is in now and which way he is heading, but we don't have any signs of him yet."

"That's not what I want to hear. We got two hours till press time." The Warden looked at his watch. It was almost quarter to six. "How can he keep fooling you guys? Who is this guy? Is he dangerous? Do we need to alert the citizens they could be in danger?"

The Warden immediately felt his head began to ache. "I'm not sure how he did it. The last one is on me. I should have checked the body closer. I just assumed." He hated himself for that mistake. He always preached to his men never assume and here he was guilty as sin. "I don't think anyone is in danger. He is a computer wizard."

"He's desperate though and a convicted murderer.

"Yes, but we are closing in. We have every resource heading towards him. It's going to be pretty difficult to pull off what he did again. I will personally make sure it doesn't happen." Though he wasn't totally convinced of what he was saying anymore.

"I hope so. Keep me informed and let me know if I can be of any assistance."

"You got it Governor." He heard the click on the other end. He sat still, staring at all the traffic they was passing by trying to wonder where Jackson was, until he heard the voice call out over the radio that the wagon had been found in a full VRE commuter train parking lot about five miles ahead of them.

Chapter 10

Warden Dever and the young officer quickly pulled into a parking lot full of commuter cars. They nestled in between two cruisers, their blue lights still flashing. Both officers were examining the station wagon trying to find any evidence.

"You guys got anything?" Dever quickly walked up to the abandoned car.

They both looked back covering their eyes in the blue light till they recognized the Warden. "No, it looks like he just dumped it. Keys are still in the ignition. The car is not warm, so it has been a while."

Dever looked up at the train tracks at the other end about fifty yards away. "Do we know if any trains have come by?"

One of the officers reached into his car and pulled out a clip board. "The station manager handed me this. Apparently, there have been two trains in the last hour."

"Do we know if he boarded those?"

"The State Police have both of them being stopped at the next station, not allowing anyone on or off, so if he's on there they will get him."

"I have heard the before," mumbled Dever.

"What was that?" The officer responded handing Dever the clipboard.

"Nothing. What about stolen vehicles?"

The two officers quickly glanced at each other waiting to see who would respond first. The one who had given him the clip board answered. "Sorry Warden we have no way of knowing. I don't think we'll know till tonight when the commuters get off the train and come looking for their cars."

"You've got to be kidding me. Don't they have records of who parks here?"

"They can pay cash to board the train, so it would probably be quicker to wait till they come back for their vehicles than tracking them down."

Shaking his head in disbelief, "what about cameras out here?"

"We're working on that. The manager said he is trying to get the footage."

"What do you mean trying, we need it now." Dever felt his anger building up. It felt like he was going to explode. He knew he had to get control of himself if he was going to function correctly. "If he's not on those trains he is gone. Where's the manager?"

They pointed at a small office building near the tracks. Dever quickly stormed over to it and knocked loudly on the door. He was surprised when a police officer answered the door. It took a minute for him to recognize the Warden, but once he did he invited him in. "We're looking at the footage now." He could see a grainy image on a computer screen that showed the station wagon pulling into the parking area. Dever closely watched trying to see if he could see Jackson get out, but it appeared that no one was exiting the vehicle. "What's going on here? Why can't you see him getting out?"

"We were wondering the same thing." The officer answered. Dever saw the sergeant stripes on his sleeve. This is the third time I have seen the footage and I don't see anyone get out, but in a minute you'll see tail lights leaving at the other end of the lot." The manager hit the fast forward button. "Whoa whoa don't do that." Dever called out causing the man who was slightly overweight, balding and wearing a loose fitting tie to quickly rewind the tape and put it back to when the station wagon pulls in. Dever watched again as the car parked in what appears to be the same spot it is in now and a moment later its lights go out and then nothing. Finally, about four minutes later, he can see the tail lights of another car leaving the lot. "That's the only angle you have?"

"Yes, during the day it works pretty well." The manager responded.

'It's not the day is it?"

"No." The man immediately looked down avoiding Dever's piercing eyes.

"Can you tell what kind of car that is?"

"It could be one of those Prius types from the taillights."

"Get this to the State lab and see if they can get anything off it." He ordered the Sergeant than ran back out the door to the police cruiser. "Let's go we need to get back on 95." He yelled to his driver. He knew it was beginning to get hopeless, but he couldn't give up. He had to keep pursuing and just maybe they would get lucky and Jackson would turn up on one of those trains, but he doubted that. He felt like he had been defeated, something he wasn't used to. Even if they got the footage of the car, it would be too late. He would have changed cars by then probably four times. The guy was good he had to admit that, but he was better and he would get him no matter what the cost. He just couldn't figure out how he got out of the car without being seen on camera.

Jackson watched as the sun broke through the dark gray skies. He hadn't seen a sunrise in five years. He almost pulled over to watch one of the earth's most magical moments that he knew most people took for granted, but he kept going. He had passed Richmond sometime ago and he was now climbing through Virginia heading for the District. In about an hour or so, he would be within minutes of Stephanie and Michelle. They were only a few miles west of I-95 in Fairfax County, but he knew he would have to resist the temptation and continue on. He had made it. He had seen a few police cars drive by both north and south, but they wouldn't know what kind of car to look for, at least for a while yet. He would trade in the Prius for something else as soon as he got to DC. He had been careful at the commuter lot. He had even slid out the back door of the station wagon so the man sleeping a few cars over in the Prius wouldn't see him sneak up. He quickly emptied half of his last syringe into the man's arm and carefully dragged his body onto the grass behind some bushes. What a break. Things were starting to look better now. He pushed the window button to open the Prius's window. He felt the cool air wash across his face and wipe away any of the perspiration from the tense moments before. The question was what now? He knew he needed to get to DC and disappear into the crowds of people and get back to his original plan till things cooled down. It would eventually, they always did. There would be a lot of big media hype for a while, at least until something else happened. He had made sure to place the Warden's weapon under the seat in the station wagon knowing it would be found eventually. He also placed his cell phone under a nearby car in the commuter lot to hopefully throw them off with the GPS signal or at least to give them something to think about. He wasn't one to play games or anything. He didn't get any satisfaction out of outsmarting the system or the Warden, he just wanted to be free and anything else to throw them off would probably help. He quickly slowed way down seeing a police car creeping up behind him. He hadn't noticed the lights before. He would have to react if he had to, but right now he was just watching as the two lights approached. He was doing about sixty but the police car had to be topping eighty at the rate he was catching up. This could be it again. He felt his body begin to surge into panic mode. He felt the beading sweat and tingling on his forehead again. He didn't have a plan yet, so he kept driving with the rest of the traffic trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. He watched as the lights slowed down a bit. They were still at least ten cars behind him but catching up. The car was in the left lane and the driver appeared to be examining each driver in the right hand lane. He figured they probably had a picture being circulated by now. That was the one thing he had not had a chance to do yet, change his appearance. It had been part of his original plan, but with all those close calls with the Warden he hadn't had the time to do it yet. He was quickly running out of options and with the sun beaming down now they would surely recognize him. He quickly placed the Prius between two eighteen wheelers. It was three lanes of heavy traffic and he moved to the far right, giving a thankful wave to the truck driver who responded with a nod. The police car was still in the far left lane and it was about six or seven cars back now. He could almost make out the face of the officer conducting the search. He appeared to be looking at the laptop monitor and quickly comparing it each driver. He watched as the officer slowed down next to a car in the middle lane, once satisfied he even waved to the driver who waved back; probably unaware of what was going on. He had the radio news broadcasting and hadn't heard anything about his escape, so at least it was just the law enforcement officers looking for him now not the general public, but he knew that would change soon. He had to act soon or he was done. He could only imagine what his cellmate would do to him upon his return. He looked over at a white utility van slightly behind him in the center lane. The scruffy driver was navigating the traffic and holding a large 7-11 cup of coffee in one hand and the wheel in the other. He loved early morning habits. He waited till he was obscured from the officer by one of the large trucks and quickly pulled the wheel left moving him into the center lane cutting off the van. He watched the driver's expression go from calm to anger as he slammed his brakes and turned into the far left lane to avoid hitting him and causing a small compact to swerve onto the shoulder and end up on the grass pointing south. He still couldn't see the police car, but he knew it would have to stop. He looked behind him and it appeared traffic had come to a halt in the left lane. He could see the police car, the white van and the compact all stopped. He quickly pulled off the next exit and finally took a well-deserved breath.

Chapter 11

The loud knock on the door startled her as she rolled over and instinctively touched the empty spot on the bed beside her like she did every morning. She quickly threw her robe over her pajamas and looked in at Stephanie sleeping soundly. She couldn't imagine who was at her door at seven in the morning. The reporters had long since stopped coming a few months after Jackson's sentencing five years ago. She felt the air quickly empty out of her lungs seeing the two police officers standing on her front steps. It instantly reminded her of the night they came to get Jackson. It was his last night at home. It had been over five years since he had stepped foot in their home that they had so proudly purchased before Stephanie was born. They had been comfortably living in a high-rise apartment in DC enjoying the Georgetown nightlife and close proximity of all the city attractions, but that all changed the day they found out she was pregnant. They immediately began looking for a house in the suburbs and in a few months they found a nice little colonial on a quiet cul-de-sac in Northern Virginia. It had a good structure but it needed a lot of cosmetic work which Jackson had spent hours doing, most of it during the middle of the night. She remembered seeing him come stumbling to bed early in the morning covered in whatever color paint he had been working on and going to work the next day. He had learned a new language putting in the vinyl kitchen floor, she was glad Stephanie hadn't been here to witness that. He did a great job with everything and he refused to let her do anything because she had been carrying Stephanie. She still couldn't believe he had been gone for so long. She continued to visit him in prison despite Jackson trying to convince her to move on with her life, but she continued to let him know they couldn't make it without him. She had been forced to return to work after the incarceration due to the lack of money. The most difficult thing was the once a week question from Stephanie about where her dad was. They both had agreed not to tell her he was in jail, but it would only be a few more years till they would have to let her know the truth and they were both dreading that day so much and tried not to think about it. She still sent Jackson a letter every week letting him know how their days were and what they had done. She also reiterated how much they missed and needed him. It meant so much to him to hear everything Stephanie did each day. He so wanted to be her father and he was such a good one for the two years that he was there. She reached the bottom step of the stairs and glanced at the last family picture. They were all smiling and looked like such the perfect family. She had to force her hand to open the front door. She was afraid the news was going to be something had happened to Jackson. That had been her biggest fear from the first day he was in prison. He just wasn't the prison type. It wasn't that he was a wimp or anything, he had been anything but. He had been a star athlete in high school and college until he found out how much more he liked technology and directed all his energy from sports to that. It also had something to do with her because once they met they became inseparable. She still couldn't believe he was gone. Jackson was still able to provide some income to them, it wasn't much but he kept trying. He would write technology articles for magazines from within the prison. She took one more look at the picture and opened the door to the two officers who immediately stepped into the foyer and shut the door. The taller and thinner of the two spoke first.

"Mrs. Stewart we're sorry to bother you, but we have some bad news on your husband." Michelle's knees went limp and she let the older and stockier officer grab her shoulders. She placed her hands over her mouth.

"Please no."

"I'm sorry ma'am but your husband escaped a few hours ago and we have reason to believe he is heading this way."

Michelle immediately straightened up. "What? He escaped. How? When?"

The officer briefly looked around at the pictures on the walls. "He broke out this morning and was last seen heading north."

"How did he break out?" How could this happen? Where is he? "Oh my God, what do we do?"

"What we're going to do is post a few officers here at the house in case he tries to contact you."

"You think he's going to come here?"

"That is what we have been told. We need to monitor the phones, email everything."

She still couldn't believe he was out. Jackson was out there somewhere running for his life. "I guess. I think I need to call our attorney." She needed to get to the bathroom, she felt sick to her stomach. She was so nervous. What about Stephanie?"

"We're not sure. We were told to report here immediately. I think the Warden has more information and they will be contacting you later this morning. She excused herself and ran upstairs.

Chapter 12

He couldn't believe he had been able to sleep, but he looked at the clock and it was 4:00PM. It had been a little stressful taking the back roads and eventually ending up on Route 1, the alternate way into DC. It used to be the only way in from the south, but with the building of 95 and 395 it was now a four-lane road showing signs of old age. He stopped in one of the older motels along the road in Alexandria. There were numerous ones, and he chose the oldest and scariest. He dropped the Prius, off about ten miles south and taken a bus to the hotel. He knew they would find the driver and eventually find out about the Prius so he had to dump it. He wasn't planning on sleeping so long, but it had been a long night, and his body was paying the price for it, but he felt much better. It felt like the last five years had been wiped off his life and he was starting over fresh again. He immediately flicked on the 27" color TV that was locked to the obnoxiously old and worn TV stand. He couldn't imagine someone trying to steal it, especially since even in the Conduit they had flat screens, but maybe that was for different reasons he wasn't sure. They were hung high and out of reach of any of the prisoners. With no remote control, he sat close to the TV and began switching channels. The TV had one of those old knobs you had to turn to switch channels. Finally, he came upon a local news station that was just beginning their broadcast. He kept his fingers crossed as the local anchors discussed the Redskins new draft pick. Apparently, they had the number one pick overall and had settled on a running back from Penn State. He watched as they showed stock footage of the running back breaking tackles and landing in the end zone. Then they went to the weather, which was always a strange thing in this area this time of the year, because pretty much the weather was the same every day, hot and muggy with a chance of thunderstorms. The anchors then went on to discuss shootings in the District and one in Prince George's County, but nothing about an escape from prison. Feeling confident when the sports caster came back on and began talking about the Redskins again, he shut it off and took a risky venture into the shower area. It was worse than the prison showers, but at least it was private, so he removed his clothes and enjoyed the hot blast of water removing the past five years' worth of prison stench from his body. After about fifteen minutes he figured he needed to keep moving, so he quickly dressed and dropped the key in the checkout box bypassing any more contact with the manager. Although he was sure the place was already crawling with shady characters, he didn't want to take any chances. He still had about fifty dollars of Hoover's money left that he had pocketed before he dropped the wallet. He ran across the busy street and sat down at an IHOP and enjoyed a huge plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. He thanked the waitress, left a three-dollar tip and began walking down Route 1 to the next bus stop which was only a few hundred yards away. He waited by himself for a few minutes until he saw the bus for Reagan National coming and jumped on. He was right back on schedule.

"Were you able to find anything?"

The Sergeant shook his head. "Nothing Sir, I've been through his cell three times with a fine-tooth comb. There's nothing here with any information on it."

Warden Dever stood in front of his desk pacing back and forth. "Does anyone know anything? What about Carlos the Thomas?"

"So far nothing, he just kept to himself. He never talked to anyone not even Carlos."

"This just doesn't make sense how he could do all this on his own. I mean I almost had him twice and both times it was like he had some magic angel over his head pulling him away."

"Just like what happened here." Harris added leaning slightly forward on the upholstered chair in front of Dever's desk.

"How's Hoover doing?"

Harris slightly leaned back against the chair. "I saw him in the hospital earlier and he was starting to wake up. They said he'll be fine just like Carlos. Apparently that stuff he gave them shuts down your system for about four or five hours."

Dever shook his head. "That's a whole different issue how he got that stuff in here."

"We're looking into that Sir."

"Good, keep looking and do it quickly and let's get started on the computers too." He muttered. He felt exhausted after chasing Stewart all day long. He finally gave up after spending an hour or two on 95 and not seeing anything. It was basically impossible not having a car description. Apparently, the owner of the car was nowhere around because no one reported anything being stolen yet. Just as he had expected, he hadn't been on the train. He had already contacted the Marshall's office and they were working on tracking his movements. "So tell me again what happened?"

Sergeant Harris spent the next thirty minutes or so explaining the whole sequence how Jackson had gotten out. He looked at the floor several times especially during the part when he didn't ask him to take off his riot helmet and let him walk right out the door.

"Don't feel bad Sergeant, it could have happened to any of us; we'll deal with that later. I told you he got me twice today. The important thing is we need to learn from this and make sure it never happens again. I expect you'll write up the new procedures?"

Harris nodded and rose to his feet. "We'll get him Sir. We always do."

"Let's hope so Sergeant, let's hope so." He was trying to think what he was going to tell the Governor, but first of all he needed to meet with the press who has been camped outside the prison all day. He quickly packed up his reports and placed them in a folder, checked his tie and hair in the mirror on the back of the door and began the dreaded walk.

"Warden is it true the drug Rohypnol was used on the guards?" A small man holding a microphone that almost completely hid his face called out.

The Warden nodded, "A chemical was used we are not sure at this time of the exact one that was used, but that is correct."

"Is he considered armed and dangerous?"

"As far as we can tell he isn't armed." They had found his weapon under the seat of the stolen station wagon. He sure wasn't going to mention it was his. "As far as dangerous, any prisoner on the loose would be considered dangerous, and I urge everyone to use extreme caution if you see him. We will be providing a photograph at the conclusion of this press conference."

"Is he in for murder?"

"Yes, he is serving a twenty-year sentence for murder. You can view the crime records online."

"What kind of prisoner was he?" A young woman impeccably dressed stood up an asked.

"He was a good prisoner. He didn't pose a problem to anyone and followed directions appropriately." He looked around waiting for the next question, but it came from the same woman. She had a soothing voice. "Is it true he had total access to the prison's computers?"

"No he didn't have total access to the computers. He was limited to working on the ones in the prisoner's library, like all the prisoners." He must have reprogrammed those to give him outside access, he thought. They had already called in the state's computer forensic experts but they hadn't arrived yet. They needed access to those as soon as possible. They would hopefully show some kind of clue as to where he was headed. He listened and answered questions for the next forty minutes until he felt like he was saying the same thing over and over again and his communication director ended the press conference. Warden Dever quickly went back into the building knowing exactly what he had to do next.

Chapter 13

Michelle couldn't believe it; she was glued to the TV and internet all day watching the coverage of Jackson's escape. She had Stephanie go to her friend's house after school because she needed time to come up with a plan on what to tell her. The two officers were in and out of the house all day checking the phones and cars driving by. She knew he wouldn't dare come by the house he was too smart for that. She just didn't know what to do and she wasn't sure what she was going to tell Stephanie about it, although she would ask why the policemen were there. As far as she knew, none of Stephanie's friend's parents knew about Jackson either. They just assumed he had spilt and she was a single mother. No one ever asked and she never volunteered any information. She kept checking her Gmail account. It was the one she used to email him in prison sometimes. She wasn't sure how he was able to use email in prison, but somehow he made it work. She knew the police were watching her, but at least they were giving her some privacy on the computer, although they would walk around where they could see the screen every once in a while. He was out there by himself running from law enforcement. She had seen too many movies and news reports to know how it usually ended, but she was keeping hope. She had been careful about who she became friendly with since all this happened. In fact, she only had two close friends; one was Liz, who was the office manager where she worked as a bookkeeper and the other was Barbara, Stephanie's friend's mom, where she is now. None of them asked about her husband, but she had seen them both looking at her wedding ring every once in a while. She knew they wanted to ask but they never did. Stephanie was still under the impression that her dad had to go away for a while. She just wasn't ready to find out the truth, but she may have to tell her now. It was a school night so there was no way she could spend the night at her friends, and besides she wasn't the type of kid who liked sleepovers. They had tried once last year but she had only made it about 11:00PM when Barbara called and asked her to pick up her daughter because she kept saying she wanted to come home and wouldn't go to sleep. They had grown so close over the last five years, almost more like best friends than mother and daughter. She knew it wasn't the best thing, but it worked, and she wasn't about to change anything. She watched the replay of the warden's press conference. She almost smiled hearing how Jackson had used a drug on one of the guards to escape. He was so clever just like she knew he was. She began to cry until one of the officers came over to make sure she was okay. She told him she was, but she knew she wasn't. She was all torn up inside. She decided to send an email to Jackson. She knew he would still find a way to check his email. He always did. He would always plan everything out, spending hours and hours getting things ready, and then he would do whatever it was he was planning for. Like the house. He spent days and days coming up with drawings and color schemes until he was satisfied and then he did it and it and everything has remained exactly the same since. She still couldn't imagine him in a prison cell. She even had nightmares about him dressed in his prison uniform and being beaten alive by some drug crazed prisoner, but now he was gone from all that and was somewhere out there on his own running for his life. "Please Jackson be safe," she whispered loud enough to cause the officer to turn around. They both immediately jumped hearing the phone ring. Michelle looked at the officer who gave her the thumbs up as she lifted the receiver while he picked up an extension. This was not right, what about her privacy. "Hello," she quietly said expecting to hear Jackson's voice, but instead she heard a deep scratchy voice with a slight southern accent.

"Mrs. Stewart, this is Warden Dever. Sorry to bother you ma'am, but we have reason to believe your husband is heading to your area."

"How do you know Warden?" She asked not sure why.

"He was last seen on I-95 North a little south of Richmond." She watched the officer replace the phone in the cradle after realizing it wasn't her husband. "It is of utmost importance that as soon as he contacts you, and he will, that you let us know."

"I will Warden." She felt out of breath.

"You're his wife, so I know it will feel natural to try and protect him, but if you want to protect him you will turn him in. It is the safest way."

"I will Warden. I want him safe." She wasn't sure what she wanted.

"I'm going to send a few more of my men up there to help out the officers already there. I know it's an inconvenience to you, but it's the only way."

"I have a little girl Warden. What am I supposed to tell her?" The tears were welling in her eyes.

"We are aware of that ma'am and we will do our best to stay out of her way. We will need to send an officer to school with her as well."

"What?" How was she going to explain this to her and the school?

"It's for her own protection."

"Jackson loves Stephanie; he would never harm her. He wouldn't hurt anyone."

"I know...I know, but we need the officer there just in case he tries to contact her or take her with him."

"He wouldn't." She couldn't believe he was saying this.

"I understand ma'am, but this is just routine and just a precaution. I hope you understand."

"What about me? Can I go back to work?"

"Of course, but unfortunately we will have to do the same thing with you as well."

"What am I supposed to tell my employer?"

"Have you seen the news lately?"

She shook her head, "A while ago."

Well maybe you should take another look." She quickly turned on the television. She couldn't believe it, not only were they showing Jackson's picture they were also showing hers and Stephanie's.

"Wait a minute Warden." She felt the tears stop and anger take over. "We had nothing to do with this, especially Stephanie."

"I am fully aware of that, but the media has picked up on the fact that he has a family and he might be trying to contact you guys. The only person he had contact with since he has been in prison has been you."

"Oh my God! I have to go. I have to go get Stephanie."

"She's not with you?"

"No she is at her friend's house."

"Okay, go get her and bring an officer with you." She could feel the anger mustering under her skin.

"Okay." She stood up.

"Contact me as soon as you hear something. Remember you are putting him at risk if you don't."

"Thank you Warden."

"We'll be in touch." She heard the phone click. She wanted to throw it on the floor. This was so much more difficult than she ever imagined.

Chapter 14

Jackson felt comfortable on the bus. It was empty and he was seated in the back watching the familiar landscape pass by. It seemed so long ago that he had roamed these grounds. He could almost feel his old life creeping back into him until he saw a police car pass by, probably on the way to another juvenile crime which was pretty rampant in this area. It felt good to be out. He just wished things were back to normal and not feeling like everyone was out to find him. He vowed to himself to get his family back. He felt the bus rattle along the busy road as they neared the airport. A few minutes later, he hopped off and slowly walked into the large terminal. He wasn't sure if there would be law enforcement on the lookout for him up here yet, so he figured he better disguise himself a little bit. He purchased a Redskins hat from one of the vendors near the main entrance and pulled it down over his head. It was time for the next phase of his escape. He had rehearsed this in his mind many times in prison. He found the closest men's room and waited outside pretending to read the Washington Post. The airport was fairly busy so it only took a few minutes till a man close in proximity to Jackson's size entered the restroom. Jackson followed him in and immediately went into the stall next to him ensuring the door was unlocked. He waited till he heard the flush and saw the man's feet approach the sink before he acted. "Help me. Help me please." He called out.

"You okay?" The man curiously asked approaching the stall door.

"No. I need a hand getting up."

The man stopped just outside the door and eyed him curiously. "Let me get you some help."

"No, no. I'm fully dressed, if you can just pull me up. I'll be all set."

There was no response for a moment, then the stall door slowly opened and the man stepped in. Jackson quickly sank the rest of last syringe into the man's leg and sat him down on the toilet seat.

"What the hell...?" He quietly slurred. Jackson watched his eyes quickly gloss over and then his body finally slump against the wall. He quickly began stripping the navy blue suit off the man and putting it on himself. It was a little loose, but near enough in size to work. Once he was dressed, he found the man's boarding pass. The destination was Atlanta, Georgia. He had never been there before, but there were worse destinations. He took one last look at the man. He felt bad for having to do this, but there was no choice and he knew there would be no medical repercussions, just embarrassment. He began to leave until he remembered to place the half-filled bottle of whiskey he had purchased, on the floor in front of him. He opened the door, taking one last look. There would be no doubt that people would take him for someone who just drank too much and passed out on the toilet. He closed the door ensuring it was shut all the way and somehow even locked it from the outside. He stepped towards the entrance. When he looked up, he couldn't believe it. Standing in front of him was a police officer.

"Is everything all right in here Sir?"

"Ahh...yes. I'm running late for my flight." He quickly walked out the door looking back seeing the police officer peering into the stall. As soon as he was out in the terminal, he could see more officers quickly approaching. This wasn't going according to plan. He turned around and began walking the other way quickly. He had to change plans. Something he was getting tired of doing. He couldn't stay in the airport anymore, so much for Georgia. He kept passing more and more officers and they were all heading towards the men's room. They were all talking on their radios. He looked back again and saw the officer who he had run into in the rest room looking in his direction and speaking into his radio. He wasn't sure what to do so he began walking faster, almost jogging. He turned left and saw the terminal exit. He began to run as quickly as he could and ended up on a giant escalator heading to the metro platform. He looked back and saw two or three officers following him; they were closing in. There was nowhere to go. There was no train in the station. Jackson quickly summed up his options and jumped onto the track ignoring the screams of panic from the passengers standing on the platform behind him. He carefully avoided the third rail and began running down the track. He looked behind him and could see the officers on the platform closely watching him. He recognized the one from the men's room and couldn't believe it when he saw him jump down into the track bay behind him. He continued running on the track for a few seconds until he heard the piercing sound of a metro's horn in front of him. He had to get out of the way, or he would be instantly killed. There was no way the train could stop in time. He jumped to the right, but his foot caught on a piece of the track and he fell down. He could see the train ahead; it couldn't be more than a hundred yards away and he was stuck on the track. His foot was twisted in an awkward way, luckily he couldn't feel the pain due to the terror he was feeling from the train, but he couldn't move it. He saw the train moving closer out of the corner of his eye; it was slowing down, but it was too late there was no way it could stop in time. He kept fighting with his foot but it wasn't budging. He wasn't going to give up now. There was no way. He tried to slip his foot out of his shoe, but it was too tight. He could feel the vibrations all around him. It was overcoming all his senses. The noise was overwhelming. It felt and sounded like a giant explosion happening, and he was stuck in the middle. He couldn't believe it. He wasn't going to make it. He tried one last effort as the train was only seconds away from striking him. Nothing, it wasn't moving. He closed his eyes still pulling on his foot trying to free it loose. It had to come free; it couldn't end like this. What about Michelle and Stephanie? What would they think? He gritted his teeth and pulled as hard as he could, still nothing. He could feel the train upon him, it was too late. Everything became blurry and then all of a sudden silent, eerily silent. He realized he didn't make it. He was in heaven. Everything was blissful just like they say it would be. He felt his body relax. It felt like he was floating until all of a sudden he felt a great rush of pain in his leg. He felt his eyes open up and found himself lying in a fetal position under the side rail on the track. He had somehow survived. He looked back and saw the train a few hundred yards away at the airport station.

"Are you okay Sir?"

"Yes. I'm okay. How did I get over here?" He looked behind him seeing the same police officer from the restroom.

"I grabbed you and pulled you under the rail." Jackson grabbed his foot not ready to see it yet. "Sorry about that. I had to pull you quickly."

"It's okay. Thank you."

"No problem." Jackson watched as the large officer climbed to his feet. He couldn't have been more than thirty with short light brown hair. He kind of resembled a young Michael Douglas. "So why don't you tell me what's going on."

"I just saw that guy in the restroom and thought he was dead." Jackson answered trying to stand on his bad leg.

"Is he dead?" The officer looked back towards the station.

"I don't know."

"Is that why you ran away?

Jackson felt his body tense up. He could feel his ankle throbbing. "Don't worry we'll have plenty of time to talk. Let's get you out of here and get that leg looked at." He leaned against the officer and let him lead him.

Warden Dever walked into Jackson's cell and began to pace around. The cell was empty because Carlos was still in the infirmary. There was nothing of any personal significance to indicate anyone but Carlos lived here. There were no pictures, no possessions, just sheets and an extra set of clothes on the floor that Dever kicked with his feet. He couldn't believe this had happened here. He felt his anger begin to brew up again. He quickly exited the cell and watched as a remote control somewhere closed the door behind him. It still felt secure to him despite the escape. He was in a grumpy mood when he walked back into Harris's station. The Sergeant wouldn't make eye contact with him. It was just too much for him to take getting outsmarted by a criminal.

"I'm just curious why didn't you stop him from leaving the building even if you thought it was Hoover?"

Harris kept his gaze at the warden's polished wingtips. "I screwed up Sir. I should have stopped him. I warned him repeatedly, but he just left the building."

"Well it wasn't enough. You should have stopped him."

"I agree, and I am sorry."

"We will listen to the radio logs and video to come up with our report, but I'm sorry as you know we have to place you on leave till we finish our investigation. You're a good employee Sergeant. I don't think you have anything to worry about. We all make mistakes." Harris nodded continuing to keep his eyes focused downward.

"Keep your head up and let's try and find out everything we can about him."

Dever quickly exited his station and followed the same path Jackson took heading outside to the parking lot.

Chapter 15

Jackson was sitting in a first aid station underneath the airport somewhere. The policeman was still with him standing in the corner of the room looking at his smartphone. The EMT was wrapping his ankle with an Ace bandage.

"That should hold it, but I think you need to go see your doctor when you leave here just to make sure there is no internal damage." Jackson nodded. He kept thinking that the only doctor he had seen in the last five years was the required annual medical visit in the prison.

"So do you want to tell me why you we're running away like that?" The officer asked looking up from his phone.

Jackson quickly looked down. He just hadn't planned on any of this happening. He had to think quickly. He hoped his mind would cooperate. "I was just a little freaked out seeing him like that."

"Did you know him?" Jackson felt his pulse quicken.

"Is he alive?" He watched the officer study his face.

"Yes. In fact it appears he drank himself into a coma. He was just taken to the hospital. Is he a friend of yours?"

"I've never seen him before till I walked by the stall and saw him there. It really scared me."

The officer slowly stood up. "I've never seen someone react the way you did running away and onto the tracks. You could have killed yourself."

Jackson placed his injured foot onto the ground and was happy it didn't hurt too much when he put pressure on it. "I'm sorry. I'm not sure what I was thinking. I was just running late and I'm stressed out a little. Thanks again for saving me."

"Can I see your ID and boarding pass?" Jackson reached into his jacket and pulled out the ticket. He handed it to the officer who examined it for a minute, "Mr. Rocher...huh? How about some ID?"

Jackson reached into his back pocket and slowly stood up. "I seemed to have lost my wallet. Must be when I fell on the tracks."

"Okay. Hold here for a second. I think I heard Officer Malek say he picked it up. I'll go get it for you." Jackson nodded. He watched the officer leave the room and as soon as the door closed he stood up.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to test out my foot, see if I can walk." The EMT nodded and went back to his paperwork. "I'll be right back."

"Don't go far. Officer Newman will be right back with your wallet. I need to see your ID as well for my paperwork."

Jackson grabbed the door handle and smiled. "Trust me I'm not going to get far with this." He pointed at his wrapped foot. The EMT smiled back. Jackson limped out the door and as soon as he was outside he ran towards an elevator nearby. He didn't even feel the pain in his leg. A minute later, he was on the main level and he exited the front doors. He still had enough money for a cab, so he jumped in the closest one and watched terminal disappear behind him.

"Where is he?" Officer Newman stormed into the medical office causing the EMT to jump up and bump his elbow on the table.

"He said he was going to test out his foot in the hallway. He just stepped out. With that foot he can't be too far. Do you have his ID?"

Officer Newman shook his head. "There is no ID. That guy that was just here is Jackson Stewart, an escaped felon. We just received word. We even have a picture." He held the phone in front of the EMT and they both nodded in agreement that it was him. "If only we had only received this information five minutes ago. Newman began screaming commands into his radio with Jackson's last known whereabouts as he ran into the hallway and began searching the airport.

"Warden Dever." The Warden quickly looked up from his computer screen as the Captain stepped into his office. "We just got word that he was spotted at National Airport. They had him in custody."

"What! And let me guess they don't have him anymore."

The captain nodded. "They didn't know who he was till he was gone. They're searching the airport now."

"He's gone. They might as well give up." He quickly logged off his computer. "Get me Timmons. I'm heading to DC. I knew he was going there. I wonder what he was doing at the airport."

The captain stepped into the large office. It was decorated with Marine Corp flags and memorabilia all over. There were tons of tiny photos on the walls of soldiers in combat uniforms from all over the world. No one ever asked about them, they were all scared to death of the Warden. "Apparently, he had a boarding pass for a flight to Atlanta with another name on it, the officer that took him in found it on him. He also injured his leg on the Metro tracks." The Warden shook his head. "Guess what they found in a guy in a rest room?"

"What?"

"Rohypnol again, apparently Stewart injected the guy and took his clothes and boarding pass. That's where he got it from."

"So he was planning on escaping to Georgia huh, probably to lie low for a while. I need to find out everything about him. I mean everything. I want to know who he sat next to in fourth grade."

"Yes Sir. I have his complete file right here." He handed the manila folder to Dever who immediately took it in his hands.

"Thank you Captain. Please have that car ready in about ten minutes."

"You got it."

Dever read through the file and wasn't surprised at the lack of information it contained. There were no incidents in his five years at the Conduit. Most of the reviews were praises from the officers how helpful he was at maintaining the computers in the library. He focused on the details of the crime and the trial. He wasn't surprised to see that Stewart tried to put up a defense that he was set up, but the evidence was too overwhelming against him. He probably claimed he was innocent like everyone locked up in The Conduit, but there was something different about him. He just couldn't place his finger on it. He knew the Governor was going to be calling him again and the damn press was going to be bugging him for updates. He just wished he had something to say. Unfortunately, Jackson Stewart eluded them again. He wanted to wring the neck of the airport security officer who let him go and who knows he may get a chance to do so when he gets up there. He couldn't believe he had gotten outfoxed by a criminal, especially one who was serving a twenty sentence for murder. He felt as though it was up to him to bring him back no matter what those damn Marshalls said. He had already ignored two calls from them, but he knew he would have to deal with them soon if he didn't bring Stewart home. He already called his wife and let her know he probably wouldn't be coming home anytime soon. If Stewart was in the DC area, Dever would find him. He had spent his last tour in the Marine Corp stationed at the Pentagon, so he was familiar with the area as much as he hated that assignment, but at least it had given him some knowledge of the DMV as they called it up there. He knew his family was in the affluent suburbs of Fairfax County. He would make a point and stop by and visit with Mrs. Stewart to ensure she doesn't assist her husband, but he was sure she would as most spouses would do if they were in the same situation. He couldn't blame them because he would probably do the same thing himself. He reread the crime details again. It was pretty clear Stewart set up the whole plan of breaking into the computer system, disabling security in the money vault and taking the money. Twenty million dollars were missing. He would have the skills to do so and after seeing him in action this morning, he was convinced that he would have no problem getting this done. He was just surprised he got caught, especially leaving fingerprints on the murder weapon and being seen on video, but hey, we all make mistakes sooner or later and he was hoping he would make another one real soon. He quickly stood up and grabbed his coat and carry-on bag, he always kept loaded with a fresh set of clothes in case something like this ever happened.

Chapter 16

Jackson gave the cabdriver a twenty leaving him only about fifteen dollars left. He knew this could become a problem real quick if he didn't get more money soon. He began walking up Duke Street in Alexandria and about twenty minutes later, he was standing in front of a homeless shelter. He hesitated at the door before going in. It wasn't that he was nervous or anything; he had spent the last five years in prison. How much worse could this be? It was just that he was so close to Michelle and Stephanie now he could almost feel them in his pores. He slowly walked in the door and went through the proper procedures to get a bed and a meal. An hour later, his stomach was full and he was curled up on a cot amongst about forty others. He could hear the heavy breathing of the mostly male lungs around him and for a minute, he almost felt as though he were back in The Conduit, but he quickly focused his mind back on his current situation and quietly closed his eyes and felt his body drift off into the arms of his family. He felt rested when he opened his eyes the next morning and sat down and ate his large portion of breakfast. He made sure not to engage in any talk or even make eye contact with any of the others. It was something he had been doing the last five years so he had no problem continuing it here. He knew he had to keep moving; it was critical in reaching his ultimate goal. He quietly slipped out the door. He was happy no one seemed to notice. As soon as he left the facility, he turned right and twenty minutes later, he entered one of the public libraries. He knew exactly where everything was because of his extensive research in the prison library. The only difference in his plan was that he was here now instead of disappearing for a while till things cooled down and then coming back later, but that plan had been derailed with the mishap in the airport. He would just have to be a little more careful. He entered the library and signed up for internet access. The librarian said it would be a about a ten-minute wait, so he headed to the newspapers. As soon as he opened the Washington Post, he felt his heart begin to palpitate. There on the front page was a picture of him along with Michelle and Stephanie. How could this be? He couldn't understand how he had become a national story so quickly. He suddenly became conscious of his looks and felt like everyone was looking at him. He pulled the paper up to his face and read through the article. It described how he was a violent offender who escaped from prison and was on his way to the DC area. They said he was armed and dangerous. Jackson couldn't believe it. Apparently, there were a couple of murders that took place yesterday in Virginia that they were saying he was possibly connected to in his escape. He couldn't believe it. This shouldn't be happening. He scanned through the rest of the article. It went on about his five-year-old daughter and his wife and how they are coping under heavy security. He felt a tap on his shoulder and jumped so high that the librarian had to ask him if he was okay. He nodded and followed her to an open computer. He knew he didn't have much time. It was only a matter of minutes until somebody recognized him. He could still feel the weight of the looks behind him. He quickly logged into his Gmail and felt another flutter seeing the email from Michelle. They had been secretly communicating almost the whole time he was in The Conduit through Gmail. He quickly read the email and hit the reply button. He wasn't sure if it was going to be monitored or not so he knew he had to be careful. He wrote that he would be in touch soon, and that he was okay. He suddenly felt the stare of the middle-aged woman seated next to him. He looked out of the corner of his eye and saw she was looking at the CNN website with his picture. He watched the woman quietly get up and walk over to the checkout desk and speak to one of the librarians. He knew what would happen next so he quickly arose from his seat and headed for the door. He took one last look behind him and saw the librarian nervously talking into the phone. By the time he was walking outside on the sidewalk, he could already hear the sirens approaching. It was going to be close.

Michelle gasped when she saw the new mail message appear on her screen. Neither officer was looking her way, so she quickly read the email and was glad to see Jackson was okay. She started to write back, but jumped from the phone ringing. She watched the officer quickly answer the call. They weren't even waiting now.

"It's for you Mrs. Stewart."

She reached for the phone and was at first relieved to hear it was her friend Barbara until she began to speak.

"What's going on Michelle? We just saw the news, is that true what they're saying?"

Michelle felt herself nod and hesitate before speaking. "Unfortunately, yes."

"I think you better come right over Stephanie caught some of the story before I realized it was her on the screen and I shut it off. I think she is pretty confused."

"I'll be right there." Michelle quickly placed the phone back in the receiver and alerted the officers she needed to go. Five minutes later, she arrived in front of Barbara's colonial in the back of a police car. She watched as Stephanie nervously came running out and landed in her arms. She held her as tight as she could.

"Mommy, you and me we're on TV. Are we celeberries?"

"Celebrities? No sweetheart we're not. I'll explain it to you when we get home." She waved at Barbara and her daughter who were standing at the door.

"Why did they call that man, Daddy?" She watched as the officer held the back door for Stephanie, and she slid in.

"That's who that is dear."

"Is Daddy a celeberry?"

Michelle slid next to her daughter and watched the door close beside her. "No, he just loves us and wants to be with us." She pulled her close to her.

"That's why he's on TV?

"Kind of." She leaned back as the car lurched forward. She wasn't sure what to say. There was no way she could tell her Jackson was in jail, but she was going to hear it sooner or later so she had to say something. "Daddy was in jail for something he didn't do and he left so he could come see us." Michelle felt Stephanie tense up. "It's okay."

"Is he going to find us and hurt us?"

"No honey. Daddy would never hurt you. He loves you so much, just as much as I do."

"They said he was dangerous, and I know that means scary because Mrs. Wilson taught us that word in reading." Michelle couldn't help it, but she smiled for a second. She pulled Stephanie closer taking in the fresh aroma of her light blond hair.

"Daddy is not scary. In fact, when you were little you wouldn't even sleep unless Daddy was right next to you." She watched Stephanie smile as they pulled up to their house.

"Will we keep our car?"

"What do you mean?" She watched the officer open the back door.

"Do we ride in a police car now?"

"Just for a little while. Let's go get find a good snack."

"Okay." Michelle followed Stephanie into the house. "How about cookies? Does Daddy like cookies?"

Laure nodded her head. "He sure does." She opened the front door and wasn't at all surprised when Stephanie ignored the police officer sitting in the living room and headed right for the kitchen.

Chapter 17

"This is Dever."

"Captain, Stewart was just spotted at a public library in Alexandria about five minutes ago. The police are looking for him now." Dever squeezed the phone closer to his ear. He looked beside him at the young officer who he could tell was trying to figure out what he was saying.

"Good. We're closing in. This should be over soon."

"Apparently, he was on one of the computers."

"I need to know what he was looking at." He looked out the window. They were still a few hours south of the DC area.

"Already on it. The police said he was looking at his Gmail account and some news sites.

"Damn it." Dever slammed his fist onto the dashboard of the prison car causing Timmons to jerk his head towards him. "It's okay." He whispered.

"What was that Warden?" The Captain asked through the phone.

"Nothing, I knew he was communicating with someone. He's getting help on the outside. I knew it. I want all those computers in the prison library checked and also make sure the police keep his wife off her computer or phone."

"Yes sir."

He saw anger on his face in his reflection on the side mirror. He couldn't help but notice the scowl. There were large bags forming under his sagging eyes causing his thick gray eyebrows to stand out even more, and strands of hair were hanging across his forehead not slicked back as it usually is. He almost didn't even recognize himself. This was trying him and he felt like it was just getting started. He hoped the police would pick him up so he could transport Stewart back. It would be a fun ride. He would love to watch the face of defeat on Stewart thinking he could outwit him and get out of his prison.

"Also, sir, the Marshalls were just here looking for you. I told them you were unavailable, but they are starting their search. From what they were saying, it sounds like they are going all-out because the pub on this one."

"Damn Marshalls...you didn't tell them where I was headed did you?"

"No sir. They we're heading to the prison to start from the beginning. They are thorough."

"I know. I just want to be the one that brings him home." He watched a blue Prius go by. "That must be the tenth one I've seen already."

"What was that?"

"Nothing how's the media so far?"

"You wouldn't believe the parking lot. They're all here, CNN, Fox, everyone. I'm telling you ever since they put up that picture with him and his family they have been all over this, and then the suspected murders in Virginia added to it."

"He wasn't involved in those." Dever mumbled.

"The police aren't ruling it out."

"It's not his style. He is just trying to get away."

"I agree, but we'll let them figure that out."

"Okay. Keep me updated." Dever placed the iPhone in his lap and looked out the window. A minute later, he turned to Timmons. He was wearing a gray off-the-rack suit. He couldn't be more than thirty-five, but he could already see the few years of prison time on his face. It had an effect on people even if they weren't sentenced and only working. "Take us right to police station. I think he's still in the area." He watched him nod his head not taking his eyes off the road. He felt his phone begin to vibrate in his lap. It was the Governor again.

"Hello Governor."

"What's going on John? Why's this taking so long. We need this guy captured." He could picture the Governor probably jogging or working out. The guy was a gym rat and he looked like it too. There wasn't an ounce of fat on him and he looked like he was molded from the hall of presidents. He was definitely a shoe in for President. He had already served three terms in Congress and was now on the second year of his term as Governor. It was rumored he would be starting a Presidential campaign very shortly, so he needed this capture.

"We're closing in on him. He's in Alexandria and we believe he's going to try and make contact with his wife. I'm almost there now."

"I've got the press here all the time John and I need something positive to say."

"Tell them we're following right behind him. We'll get him." Dever wished he felt as confident as he was sounding.

"What's with the murders in Virginia? We're going to get blamed for those too."

"It wasn't him Governor." He watched two large trucks battle for position in the left lane out the window.

"I sure hope you're right."

"I'm sure Governor. It's not his style." He hoped he was right.

"I need you to do another press conference tonight, and let them know we're close and the murders weren't done by him." He listened to the Governor, but the words were just passing through his ears. His mind was still focused on that damn Gmail account.

"You got it Governor. I promise we'll get him."

"You better." He heard the phone click in his ear. He slammed the phone down onto his lap.

Chapter 18

The sound of the car door shutting startled Jackson, he felt his body immediately tense up. He quickly remembered he was hiding in the woods behind the Home Depot. He must have fallen asleep. He couldn't believe it when he saw the Alexandria police car parked about twenty feet away. The officer was talking to a scruffy-looking man wearing an orange Home Depot shirt and faded jeans, and they were looking directly towards him. He had no idea what time it was. He had forced himself to lose track of all time while he was in prison. He felt frozen, if he moved they would hear him, but if he stayed in place he was sure to be caught. He slowly sat up and placed his feet flat on the ground. He could see the Home Depot man pointing directly at him and the officer looking where he was pointing. It was time. He had no choice. He quickly bolted his stiff legs through the woods running away from both of them. He didn't dare look back, just kept plowing ahead through the thick brush. His injured leg was stinging with each step, but he tried to ignore it thinking about his old cell. He wasn't sure where he was headed but he knew he had to get away. His luck had to start running out soon he thought. If it kept up like this he would be back behind bars before the day was out. He kept thinking about Michelle and Stephanie as he ran ahead. He could hear the crescendos of sirens filling the air behind him, but that didn't matter because right now it was just him and the officer behind him quickly catching up. It looked like a clearing up ahead, but he wasn't sure because he didn't know Alexandria that well. He leaped out of the woods and landed in the middle of large crowd. He was in Old Town Alexandria, the quaint little part of Alexandria that borders the Potomac. It was full of small shops and busy restaurants and right now, there was a high school band set up on the pier area near the waterfront with hundreds of parents, and spectators gathered around. He quickly immersed himself into the crowd. No one paid any attention to him. Behind him, he saw the officer exit from the woods and walk onto the pier. He watched as he stopped and looked in all directions. He immediately began talking into his radio. Jackson could hear sirens all around him. He wasn't sure where to go. He had to think quickly. He could see several more officers come up next to the pursuing one. He looked all around. Behind him was water and to the other side, was a food pavilion that he considered running into, but quickly changed his mind when he saw two police officers walk out carrying food trays. He decided his best bet was to stay in the midst of the crowd. He watched as two trumpet players sounded out a solo while the others eyed their music sheets. The kids were all high school aged and were dressed in pressed white shirts and dark-blue chino pants with nervous expressions on their faces. He began applauding along with everyone else when the two soloists sat back down, and the rest of the orchestra joined in. He could feel the drums competing with his pulse in his ears. More and more officers were gathering behind, causing a few nervous glances from the crowd. Luckily, no one was looking at him. He knew he had to think of something quick or he was going back behind bars. He took a step back towards the other end of the crowd and away from the gathering officers and began yelling "gun...gun" at the top of his lungs. Immediately people began to panic. Their faces were erupting in fear. He then started screaming "run...run" at the top of his lungs. The band immediately stopped playing and people and instruments began going in every different direction. He got behind a family sprinting towards King Street, the main and busiest street full of cars and people. He ran up the hill away from the water and the police, closely following the family and many others. He looked back as he reached the crest and could see the police officers trying unsuccessfully to gain control of the unruly crowd. There were people going back and forth and about thirty empty chairs with expensive instruments thrown in front of them. Jackson felt bad for the kids and parents, but he had no choice, and it was his best and only option at the time. He could feel the stress and tension pouring out of his body the further away from the water he got. Ten minutes later, he was standing on the King Street metro platform waiting for the yellow train to take him into DC.

Dever arrived at the police station and was quickly led into the back to the Assistant Chief's office.

"So I heard you guys had him dead in your sights, and he got away." Dever looked around the wooden paneled office. It was much nicer than what he had in the prison. He felt the texture of the leather upholstery below him in the chair. He looked at the Assistant Chief who was comfortably seated across from him behind his large mahogany desk filled with a giant 25" monitor. He was a large burly man closing in on fifty. He could see the specks of gray throughout his thick hair.

"I think he got away from you first Warden."

Dever leaned forward his eyes hardening. "Okay, let's move on. I'm here because I want my guy back. Can you tell me where he was last seen?"

The Assistant Chief leaned back in his black leather swivel chair and looked out the window behind him overlooking the Beltway. Dever could see thousands of cars speeding by. He hoped Jackson wasn't in one of those. "He was last seen in the vicinity of Old Town. We think he caused a distraction and got away."

"What kind of distraction?" Dever kept his eyes glued to the highway.

"There was a high school band playing a concert on the waterfront when someone began yelling gun and chaos broke out and we think your man slipped away. We haven't seen him since."

"Are your guys still searching the area?"

The Assistant Chief nodded confidently, "Of course. They are currently scanning the whole area. Checking out hotels, restaurants, vacant buildings or anywhere the usual ones go."

"With all due respect, we aren't dealing with a usual here."

"I agree Warden and we are doing everything we can to find him. Is there anything else we need to know about this guy? Is he dangerous? Do I need to put out a special alert to the citizens?"

Dever slowly stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles in his suit jacket. "No I think you know everything we do. Stewart was some kind of computer specialist who ended up killing someone for money."

The Assistant Chief fingered a stack of papers, "I don't know of too many computer specialists who can pull off what he's been doing."

Dever nodded and shook his hand. Five minutes later, he was back in the car heading to Fairfax. He figured Jackson was long gone and there was no point in trying to search for him himself even though he knew he would do better than the police, but maybe they would get lucky he thought. He would love to get a call that they had him and he could drive him back to the Conduit. He would make sure it was just the two of them. He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to picture the scene of him placing Jackson in the back of the car. The press would be everywhere which would seal the fate of anyone else who was thinking of escaping. He thought about what the chief had said about a computer specialist pulling off what Jackson had done, but Dever still felt he was just smart and lucky. He knew soon luck would end and he would win. It always happened that way. Thirty minutes later, they pulled in front of a pleasant looking two-story colonial in a middle class neighborhood. Dever could see the police car in the driveway parked next to a small late model Ford sedan. He wasn't sure of the exact model. He quickly exited the vehicle and walked down the sidewalk. As he approached the house, he could see some work was needed on the siding and the landscaping was a little overgrown, but nothing you would notice from the road. He knocked on the door and was quickly let in by a tall young policeman. They made their introductions and a moment later an attractive petite woman with medium length chestnut brown hair came into the foyer. Behind her, was a little girl with the same chestnut hair and smile as her mom. He introduced himself as the Warden. They reluctantly acknowledged him. He followed them into the kitchen. It was a well-used room with a large butcher block table on one end that was obviously used for more than eating due to the faded crayon marks scattered throughout the surface that he noticed. Dever almost wanted to smile thinking of his own children when they were young. The rest of the room was filled with light colored cabinets and your usual kitchen utensils making it a pleasant and comfortable room. He sat down opposite Michelle who immediately told the little girl to go play.

"Well first off Ms. Stewart I'm sorry all this happened. Your husband was a model prisoner. Never bothered anyone and did as was told." He watched her nod. She was leaning her chin into her hands in front of her.

"How did he get out?" Dever spent the next five minutes explaining what had happened and where they were now. "You think he is going to come here?"

"Where else would he go? Does he have any other family? Like I told you on the phone you're the only one who ever came to visit him." He watched as she looked at the ceiling.

"He has a sister in Florida but they were never close. I don't think he would go there."

"We're going to keep an officer here, so when he comes we can bring him back to prison where he belongs."

She shook her head. "He's a good man Warden. I don't think he belongs in prison."

"You may be right ma'am, but a judge and eleven members of a jury believe differently and have instructed me to hold him for twenty years and I need to do my job. I hope you understand. I'm just trying to protect him." He looked around. He couldn't help but notice the pictures of Jackson on the walls.

"I understand. I just don't want anything to happen to him."

"We don't either and that's why as soon as you hear from him and you will, you need to let us know." He paused and waited until her eyes focused on his. I can keep him safe down there but out on the streets with the police and everyone looking for him, I have no guarantee what can happen to him." He watched her nod. He wasn't convinced she would turn him in, but he had to try and make sure she understood why. "I don't want to take up any more of your time." He handed her a card with his cell on it. "I'll be staying up here in a hotel until we get him back into custody so please call me as soon as you hear from him." He slowly stood up and pushed the chair back into place.

"Will he get extra time on his sentence now?"

Dever quickly looked down. "That's not up to me to decide but I can put in a good word if he comes in cooperatively." He watched her nod. Thank you for your time. I can show myself out." He quickly walked back down the hall trying not to look at all the family pictures on the wall.

Chapter 19

Jackson felt a surge of relief when the train pulled into Metro Center, for the first time since he had escaped, he actually felt safe. He wasn't exactly sure how or why, but he had made it this far. He could see a metro officer walking the platform, but he knew they routinely patrolled the stations. He quickly exited the train noticing the officer didn't even look his way. He found the giant escalator and rode up into the early evening. He felt safe as the darkness enveloped him as he walked down the street. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he knew he had to get to some money. He had no identification so it was going to be difficult. He had grabbed several of Hoover's credit cards and his ATM card, but he had no idea what the code was. He passed several men living on the streets. He didn't want to join them but with only fifteen dollars to his name, he may not have much choice. He got an idea when he saw the Bank of America sign up ahead. He confidently strolled into the bank and waited for an open teller. A minute later, he handed her one of the credit cards. He asked for a cash advance and ten minutes later he walked out of the bank with three thousand dollars. He had just committed another crime. He tried not to think about it as he sat down in the Subway restaurant and ate a foot-long ham and cheese across the street from the bank. Twenty minutes later, just as he suspected a DC Metro police car rolled up to the bank and two bulky officers got out and entered the bank. A few moments later they, exited and walked up and down the sidewalk looking around till an unmarked dark vehicle appeared and Jackson almost choked on what was left of his sandwich seeing Warden Dever. He watched as he quickly entered the bank followed by the two cops, and another man dressed in a suit. He took this opportunity to quickly scurry out of the Subway and head down the street in the opposite direction. He couldn't believe how far the Warden was going to capture him. He knew the guy was going to be tough, but this was beyond anything he could imagine. He found another restaurant down the street with two floors. He asked for a second-story table near the window where he could still observe the bank. Both cars were still parked directly in front of the bank. He tried to imagine the Warden questioning the poor teller and going through the surveillance videos. He just hoped he wasn't in the mood for an expensive dinner. Jackson ordered a salad and an iced tea as he kept an eye on the bank. A few moments later, three more police cars pulled in front of the bank and Warden Dever came out of the bank looking frazzled. Jackson watched him direct the officers towards the sidewalks. A minute later, he saw them split up and Dever headed straight for the Subway he had just been in. He motioned for the waitress and asked for his bill. A little while later she brought it over. He paid and left a substantial tip. He waited till the sidewalks were clear and headed back out walking away from the bank. He could still see the police cars and Dever's unmarked cruiser. He continued walking without looking back. A few minutes later, he was in the back of a cab heading back towards Virginia.

Dever felt himself getting agitated with the Subway workers. They were trying to explain to him that the man he was looking for had been sitting right there eating a sandwich. They pointed at a table near the window. Dever sat at the table and looked out the window at the bank and begin to curse thinking about Jackson sitting here watching him. He slammed his fist on the table so hard all three workers stepped back away from the counter. He quickly got up and headed back out the doors and walked down the sidewalk. He looked up and found a restaurant that overlooked the bank and felt his blood pressure rising to dangerous levels when the waitress showed him where Jackson had been sitting again. There was no hope he was long gone now. He ordered a meal and a single-malt scotch. He couldn't believe it. Tracking the enemy in the desert had been so much easier. He felt like he was always one step behind since Jackson had broken out yesterday. He relaxed a bit as the scotch went down his throat and dialed The Conduit. He asked if there had been any updates on the computers but the Captain explained to him that they hadn't heard anything. He hung up without saying good-bye. A minute later, he dialed his wife and told her he would be checking in at a Sheraton in Virginia near the Stewart's home. She didn't seem to mind. She wished him good luck. Maybe he should've retired when he had the chance. He started to question why ever even chose the prison job, but after his second scotch, he started to feel better. He answered his phone a little while later and told Timmons to book a couple of hotel rooms and come pick him up in an hour. He felt defeated, something he wasn't used to. He never lost and after his third scotch, he vowed he wasn't giving up now either. He stormed out of the restaurant and stepped into the car demanding Timmons to take him directly to his hotel. A little while later, he had a map of Northern Virginia spread out on his bed with a red sharpie in his hand.

Chapter 20

Jackson took the cab all the way to Annandale; the next town over from Michelle and Stephanie. He could almost feel their presence being only a few minutes away. He stepped out of the cab and checked into a small motel he knew had been here forever. The clerk didn't ask for ID, just cash. He found his room, not surprised that it wasn't equipped with the latest amenities, but it had a TV and a decent-sized bed, so he was happy. After settling in, he walked across the street and headed into a CVS and bought some hair dye and a pair of reading glasses. An hour or so later, his hair was four shades lighter and he was wearing glasses. He chose the ones with the least amount of magnification. It would still take some getting used to. He called for another cab and waited out front of the motel till it showed up. It was an old yellow sedan with a glowing taxi sign on the roof. Five minutes later, he told the driver to drop him off in front of a large Victorian on the adjacent street to his house. He immediately felt his nerves tighten up. He used to jog these streets. He couldn't believe he was back. After five long years his dream had finally come true. He thought back to all those sleepless night lying awake in the cell waiting for this moment. He slowly began to walk towards his street. It was about fifty feet to the top of his. His house was maybe a quarter mile down. He could see all the street lights flickering as he stepped onto Sunflower Drive. There was no turning back now. He was going to do it. He had waited too long and been through too much not to go through with it. He felt his feet lead the way. He tried to stay in the shadows of the yards on the opposite side of his house but it was hard because his excitement. Most of the homes had been built forty to fifty years ago when large yards and long driveways were the norm. He used those to his advantage and slowly made his way down the street passing by neighbor's houses both he and Michelle had been friendly with. He wondered if Michelle still spoke to them after all that had happened. He figured she had probably taken to isolating Stephanie as much as she could. That was just the way she would do things. He so missed them so much. He suddenly stopped when he was two houses down from his. He was across the street. There were several cars in the driveway he wasn't familiar with. Two were police type of vehicles, and one was a small Ford. He remembered Michelle telling him she had purchased it a few years ago. He could see lights burning inside. It was just as he remembered. It was a modest two-story colonial home. Probably the smallest on the street, but it had served their needs appropriately. He thought back to painting and setting up Stephanie's room in the weeks before she was born, but within two weeks she was sleeping next to them in their bed. His heart felt so warm being this close. He slowly crept across the street and into the yard next door. There was a small row of shrubbery separating the yards. He knelt down and kept his head obscured by the bushes and stared into his driveway and yard. He could taste it. He was here. He almost felt euphoric. It felt like the steel bars and grimy inmates were far away like in another long-forgotten world. He jumped when he saw the policeman step outside his front door. He was carrying a small flashlight in his hand. He watched as he carefully walked around the yard checking behind bushes and trees and then disappeared into the back. Jackson felt like making a run towards the front door, but he restrained himself knowing there was most likely another officer inside. He wasn't comfortable having all these officers in such close proximity to his daughter, but he had brought it on himself by escaping. He held his ground and his breath as he watched the officer make his way back around the side of the house. He could see the flashlight beam cutting through the darkness and revealing anything that shouldn't be there. He crouched down as low as he could as the beam passed directly at him, the officer didn't see him. He kept going and a minute later he went back in the front door. Jackson took a long deep breath and slid through the bushes into his own yard. He was home. He was back on his own property. He slowly stood up and jogged towards the same side of the house the officer just left from. He leaned against the house. He wanted to hug it, but he just stood there taking it in. He was going to take his time. He had waited too long. A few minutes later, he made his way around back near the screened-in deck staying in the shadows. There was a sliding glass door he had helped install with a local contractor, suddenly his heart and breathing came to a halt. There through the glass, he could see Stephanie. She was seated on the couch watching TV. Her back was too him. She looked like an angel, her short brown hair sparkling from the table side lamp next to her. She was drinking a glass of milk and eating a cookie. He couldn't believe it. She was less than ten feet away. He almost couldn't contain himself. He had to force himself to breath slowly till his heart went back to a more normal rate. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She was no longer a toddler like she had been the last time he had seen her. She was a beautiful little girl, his little girl. He remained in place for at least five minutes just watching till he jumped when he saw the same police officer who was outside walk over and sit next to her. He felt himself lunge towards the sliding glass door to get him away from her, but at the last minute he stopped himself when he saw Michelle come and sit on the other side, his Michelle. Oh how he loved and longed for her. He watched Stephane climb into Michelle's lap. Her face turned towards him and was full of tears. All of a sudden, he found himself crying uncontrollably. Five years of tears were rolling down his face like and overflowing river, but he didn't even notice. He couldn't take his eyes of his family. Michelle looked the same just a little thinner and more stressed, but it was still her, the love of his life. His heart was breaking so loudly he almost didn't even hear the branch break behind him or the footsteps that followed. He hoped it wasn't too late.

Dever threw the map down and dialed Timmon's extension. He was staying three rooms down the hall. He instructed him to have the car ready in five minutes. He had an idea. He quickly made his way down the elevator and through the vacant lobby and waited outside. A minute later, the unmarked pulled up out front. He hopped inside and instructed him to take him to Jackson's house. The cruiser lurched forward and pulled into the driveway fifteen minutes later. They parked next to one of the police cars and the warden quickly jumped out. He was dressed in a white polo, jeans and sneakers. He arrived at the front door before Timmons was even able to close the ignition. A surprised young officer answered the door and let him in.

"I need to speak with Mrs. Stewart."

"She's in the back with her daughter." Dever pushed by the officer and headed straight into the living room.

"Warden...what happened? Is Jackson okay?"

Dever shook his head. "Relax Mrs. Stewart. We have no updates. I just wanted to speak with you about something else." He sat in a light blue upholstered chair across from the couch.

"Go ahead Stephanie...go upstairs and pick out what pajamas you want to wear tonight. I'll be right up. This won't take too long will it Warden?"

Dever shook his head and watched the little girl bound up the stairs and disappear. "Great kid."

"She is and I want her to stay that way. We have been through so much."

"Good. Then you should want to hear what I'm about to say." Dever looked at the two officers then towards the kitchen and wondered for a second why Timmons hadn't come in. "I think we both want him back where he belongs as soon as possible so he is safe and doesn't disrupt any more lives." He looked down at the beige carpet then back at Jackson's wife. She was pretty, but her eyes were filled with sadness and fear. He had seen that so many times during his time in the Marine Corp. He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Look, I hate to ask you this, but I think you need to get a message out to him that it's safe to meet you somewhere and then we'll get him and take him back home."

"You want me to set up my husband Warden. I don't think so."

"Mrs. Stewart. I'm sure you have seen the news." He looked at the two officers who both nodded. "You know the police want him for two murders near Richmond. You and I both know he probably had nothing to do with them but they don't. If they see him they are probably going to shoot first and ask questions later if you know what I mean." Dever hoped she understood he wasn't trying to set him up. He just wanted his prisoner back safe and sound. He would deal with the murders later after he was back in his cell. He didn't care if he committed them or not, though he doubted Jackson did, but it was possible, because he was in the area and he was an escaped prisoner. He forced himself not to think about that for now. He focused on Jackson's wife. She was staring at a blue and white comforter tossed on her lap. She picked it up between her hands and squeezed it together. He felt for her. He wanted to place his arm around her, but he remained motionless.

A minute later, she looked up. "If I agree to do this, how will you guarantee he won't be harmed?"

Dever looked towards the kitchen again. "Because Officer Timmons and I will be the only ones there to apprehend him, Timmons is outside parking the car. He wished he would come in so she could see he was just a normal looking guy. "I promise he will be handled safely and just placed back in the car. No guns or any violence of any kind." He watched her squeeze the comforter again. "I can't guarantee that with the police."

"He's a good man."

"Like I told you before, I just do what the state tells me to do and it's my job to keep him safe and sound in my prison till they decide to release him back to you in the same condition he came in. I hope you understand that." He watched her slowly nod her head.

"How am I supposed to get a message to him?"

"With all due respect Ms. Stewart, we both know you have been communicating with him. From what I have heard he had complete access to the computer system in the prison."

She quickly looked towards the TV. "I saw on the news he had no special access to the computers."

Dever quickly answered. "Officially he didn't...but he's clever so I'm sure figured out a way to get around the system." She nodded. "So if you would please send him a message to meet somewhere that would be great."

"Where?"

"Do you have a special spot where just you two would go that he might trust?"

She nodded again. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with this."

"I understand, but you're probably saving his life by doing this."

"Well we used to go to this little restaurant down the road called Candlelight. It's where we had our first date." She picked up more of the comforter.

"Great. Let's go send it. Where's your computer?"

She slowly stood up dropping the comforter back on the couch. "Over here." A few minutes later, they created an email that stated she wanted to meet tomorrow afternoon at five. She reluctantly hit the send button and began crying uncontrollably till Stephanie came running down the stairs. She picked her up and carried her over to the couch where they both cried into each other's arms. Dever said good-bye and motioned to the two officers to walk him out. They both followed him. He instructed them not to let her touch the computer and keep her in till tomorrow before five. He said he would call. He stepped outside and became annoyed not seeing Timmons anywhere, but the car door was still open and the lights were on. His instincts immediately took over causing him to sprint towards the car.

Chapter 21

Jackson quickly stood up as the man charged towards him. He wasn't sure who he was. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and he was coming towards him at full speed, and it looked as though he had a weapon. He took one last look at the house and couldn't believe it when he saw the Warden come into view and sit across from Michelle. Then Stephanie disappeared upstairs. Jackson turned and ran into the backyard. He stopped for a second when the automatic floodlight lit up the backyard. It must have been installed by Michelle after he was put away. He ran through the yard and jumped a small wooden plank fence covering the far side of the back yard. They had planned on acquiring a small dog once Stephanie reached four or five years old, but that had all changed. Jackson looked back again and saw the man sprinting through the lit up yard. He could tell he was probably around thirty-five and looked as though he was fairly fit. He was holding a semi-automatic weapon out ahead in his right hand, but he was moving too fast to aim it. Jackson landed softly on the other side of the fence and ran into the Clemon's back yard. They were an older couple who used to love to stop by and play with Stephanie whenever she was out back when she was a baby. Jackson remembered all the picnics they had, just the three of them on a beautiful spring day. He so missed that. Michelle would lay out a blanket and make sandwiches and brownies like they were living the white picket fence dream life. He sped up as he approached the back of the Clemon's house. It was a large four-story home they had purchased in their twenties and raised four kids in. Last he had heard, all the kids had scattered throughout the country pursuing their dreams. He raced by the side of the house and ended up ducking behind a car in their driveway. It was a small Audi, but he was able to crouch down and hide himself. He watched the man fly by, his gun still waving out in front of him. A minute later, he stopped at the bottom of the driveway and looked all around and then began slowly walking up the driveway towards the Audi and a Ford pickup truck parked next to it. Jackson leaned into the tires as closely as he could, but if the man came too close there was no way he wouldn't see him. He had the gun out in front of him held by two hands now and was aiming behind bushes and trees alongside the driveway as he made his way up it. Jackson remained in place slowly moving towards the front of the Audi to shield himself from his sight. He watched the man approach the Ford and slowly make his way around it. He was less than ten feet away. Jackson had no choice but to remain in place. The gun was too close. He watched as he circled the truck and then moved towards the Audi. Jackson moved to the back as the man approached the front of the car. There was nowhere to go unless he made a break for it and took a chance he wouldn't shoot. He waited till the man reached the far side of the car. He was now no more than five feet away. Jackson hesitated then started to get up and run till he heard the front door of the house open up behind them and a light snap on, illuminating both cars and the driveway. He saw the man turn towards the noise as Mr. Clemons stepped out onto the front stoop. He looked exactly as he did five years ago, a full head of white hair, a thick mustache and the build of a twenty-year old. Jackson wanted to say hi, but instead he took off running down the driveway. He could hear Mr. Clemons yelling at the man to get off his property with the gun. Jackson was already across the street and heading into the woods. He saw the man come stumbling down the driveway in pursuit while trying to calm down Mr. Clemons at the same time. Jackson almost smiled as he made his way through the dark woods. He wished he could thank Clemons. He knew he had to keep moving and when he came out on another side street, he began jogging down the side of it hiding under the shadows of the large trees. He didn't hear or see the man anymore so he started to slow down. A minute later, he heard a wall of sirens heading towards his neighborhood.

Dever felt his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He quickly answered it already knowing it was Timmons. He could hear him breathing heavily.

"He was just here Warden. I almost had him."

"That's what everyone always says, including me. Where are you now?"

"The next street down, he ran into the woods. I've got the police coming to search for him." Dever slammed the phone back into his pocket and jumped in the car driving it quickly to the next street where he found Timmons standing at the bottom of a driveway of a large house talking with an older annoyed looking man. He quickly got out and listened as Timmons described what happened and where Jackson went. He listened to the old man describe what a class act Jackson was and that there was no reason to be going after him with their guns out. Dever just nodded and then climbed back in the car as he listened to the sirens and helicopters arrive. He drove back to Jackson's house and a minute later he was knocking on the door again.

"What's going on out there Warden? It's Jackson isn't it?"

Dever looked at Mrs. Stewart's concerned face, the child buried in her arms. "It was him. He was here."

"Here? As in right outside?" She walked past him out into the front yard.

Dever turned around and followed. "Yes, which is more the reason for us to make sure this happens tomorrow." He watched as she looked up at the two circling helicopters beaming their spotlights into the woods. She then started to cry and hugged the child tighter. Dever immediately thought about his grandchildren near the same age. "I'm pretty sure he's gone by now knowing what I know about your husband. He's probably somewhere laughing at us searching for him."

"I don't think he's laughing Warden. I can't believe he was here. I miss him so much Warden."

"Daddy's home?" Dever quickly turned his head away and watched a police car scream by the front of the house with its lights and sirens.

"No sweetheart, Daddy's not home. Remember I told you he's in big boy timeout...right Warden."

"Yes ma'am." He patted the child's head.

"Have you ever been in big boy timeout Warren?"

Dever smiled. "You bet. I work there and I'm trying to bring your daddy back with me."

"You must be bad if you work there Warren." He watched as she buried her head back in her mom's shirt.

"Something like that," he whispered. "I'll keep you posted Mrs. Stewart and be ready for tomorrow." She nodded her head looked up at the sky one more time before she stepped back inside. Dever jumped back in the cruiser and headed towards Timmons.

Jackson sat next a small tool shed behind a house about five streets over and watched the police cars pass by. He couldn't believe how many there were, especially the helicopters. He never imagined in all his planning that they would make such a big ordeal over his escape. He wished he had gotten on that airplane to Georgia. He rubbed his leg for a minute. It was still sore from his fall on the tracks, but he had no time to rest or feel pain. He had already felt enough pain over the last five years that an injured leg wasn't going to stop him. He waited as three more police cars drove past before making his move. He slowly crept out from behind the shed and ran across to a large field where the local kids played baseball and pickup football games. He used to bring Stephanie down here once in a while to watch. She got such a kick out of all the kids running and yelling. He couldn't believe how big she had gotten. She still had that same look on her face that she did the day she was born. He raced across the field looking back at the helicopters still circling behind him in the dense woods that he had stepped out of. He knew they would expand their search soon so he had to keep moving. He reached the other end of the field and jogged into another wooded area that opened up to a shopping plaza. He stood on the edge of the parking lot behind a group of large trees. Many of the stores had changed in the five years since he had last been there. He smiled when he saw they had put a Starbucks in. He wasn't a big coffee drinker. The coffee at the Conduit was referred to mud, so he usually stayed away from it choosing just water instead. He slowly made his way to the Starbucks anyway. The sign said they were open for another hour. He entered and ordered a black coffee, calmly sitting down amongst all the other people; most of them fully engaged in their electronic devices. A few minutes later, he slowly walked up to the young woman behind the counter and asked if he could borrow the phone to call a cab. She offered to do it for him. Five minutes later, he finished his coffee and stepped into a Red Top cab. He instructed the driver to take him to a Sheraton about fifteen minutes away. As soon as they pulled back onto the main road he sat back and watched the law enforcement vehicles cruise by.

"What's going on around here?"

Jackson kept his eyes focused out the window. "I don't know. It's usually a pretty quiet neighborhood."

"Probably another domestic shooting...been happening a lot more lately. I think it's because of all the extra stress..." Jackson didn't hear another word. He just kept his eyes focused on the window, praying no blue lights show up behind them. A few minutes later they pulled into the Sheraton. Jackson paid the driver. It was the exclusive hotel in the area. Most of the weddings and events were held here. Jackson and Michelle attended a few weddings here in the past. He stepped into the vast lobby to wait for the Red Top to leave so he could take another cab back to his motel, but the guy was out talking to other cab drivers parked out front so Jackson decided to head to the bar for a few minutes.

Dever wasn't surprised they still couldn't find Stewart. He figured this would happen. At least he was correct where Jackson wanted to go...back home. He signaled Timmons to drive him back to the Sheraton. He needed another scotch. He looked at the dense woods now lit up with spotlights from both the ground and air searching for a man they would never find. A few minutes later, they pulled into the large Sheraton parking lot amongst several standing cabs waiting for fares. Timmons dropped him off at the door. Dever made a beeline for the bar. He needed another scotch. This was quickly turning into something much bigger and more difficult than he could imagine and he knew the Governor was going to be calling again soon. He made his way to the bar and set down next to a young couple two stools over fully engrossed in conversation. They didn't even notice him. He motioned to the bartender and a minute later, he was sipping a Dewar's. He sat calmly looking at the inbox on his iPhone hoping and praying a message would show up saying they got him, but he knew it wasn't going to happen. He figured they had a pretty good chance of getting him to show up with his wife tomorrow, but the way things have been going, he wasn't so sure. He quickly wheeled around on the stool when he felt the tap on his shoulder. He wasn't sure why he was so jumpy. He was never the jumpy type. He was the calm and cool type, maybe it was the Taser gun that had done this to him. He looked into the face of Timmons and could immediately tell he was about to tell him something bad by his expression. Timmons sat down on the stool next to him.

"They called off the search. He slipped away." Dever watched Timmons shake his head. He liked Timmons. He was a good officer but he knew he didn't have what it took to be good...to be a hunter like he was. You either had it or you didn't. There were many Marines he had worked with over the years that just didn't have it and they couldn't be trained. Dever had just accepted them and put them in non-combative roles. At first they always resisted, but then they realized they were better suited for their new job.

"He always gets away." Dever took a long drink and looked at the other patrons behind him in the mirror across the bar. Most of them were business types in for a night or two to make a deal and then go back to busy lives. They would never know a real hunter was seated amongst them.

"We'll get him Warden. He'll make a mistake...they always do."

"He will, but let's hope it's sooner rather than later. There's something different about him. Did you know him?" Dever watched Timmons take a sip from his tapped beer. He wondered what must be going through the guy's mind, seated here in a hotel hours away from the prison trying to track down a computer whiz who is more elusive than most CIA spies. Dever took another long drink and motioned for the bartender for another.

Timmons turned his head. "Yeah...I met him a few times. He used to help out with our computers. Didn't say much, but he always solved every problem we had. Some of the guys even let him work on their home computers."

"That must stop as of now."

Timmons nodded in agreement. "I agree. Who knows what information he was able to gather."

"Any ideas on how he got the drugs in? That's got to stop now too. There's going to be a lot of changes at the Conduit as soon as we get back."

"We'll touch base with all the long-termies and see what they know."

"I want nothing...I mean nothing coming in those doors, not being one hundred percent screened." Dever could start to feel the effects of the alcohol, but he didn't care. He quickly finished his second scotch. Timmons just nodded.

Chapter 22

Jackson couldn't believe it when he saw Dever walk into the bar. How did the guy do it? He sunk down in his chair and slid behind two other patrons chatting about the Washington Nationals. He could see the side of Dever's face. He didn't look as tidy as he usually did when he saw him out and about throughout the prison. Gone was the look of authority, replaced by a look of desperation. A few minutes later, the other man, the younger one he had seen at the bank and had chased him walked in and sat beside him. He had never seen him before, but he guessed he probably worked at the prison as well. Neither of them looked back in his direction till he saw the Warden's eyes scanning the bar mirror. He hoped his disguise was enough to throw them off. He happily looked on as the bartender continued to supply him with what looked like scotch. Jackson was drinking nothing but Diet Coke. He had decided the day Stephanie was born to give up alcohol, not that he was ever a heavy drinker or anything but he didn't want to take any chances while raising her. He still couldn't believe his luck that the Warden would show up in the same hotel he was at. He knew his luck would run out eventually. He knew he had to get to his motel down the street, but there was no way he was going to take any chances right now so he slid down a little more in his seat. A few minutes later, the two guys talking baseball got up to go. He was all alone and now exposed. He pushed his glasses on a little tighter and kept his head turned the other direction. He needed a break. Occasionally, he would take a quick look back and could see the Warden still at the bar with a fresh glass in front of him. He was on his third or fourth now. He would have to stop soon. He didn't seem like the type to get drunk, but what did he know. He had never had as much as a conversation with the guy. He found a small TV behind him tuned into the National's game, so he kept his body and eyes focused on that turning his head backwards every so often. He watched as one of the batters lined a single over the third baseman and jogged towards first base. The camera panned the crowd, and he couldn't help but notice all the faces innocently enjoying a peaceful baseball game. He so wished he was amongst them. He closed his eyes and thought of taking Stephanie and Michelle with him to a game. They would purchase popcorn, pennants and try and catch a foul ball. The roar of the crowd, the smells...they cheered as the next batter hit a homerun...he suddenly jumped when he felt the tap on his shoulder. This was it. He had finally been caught. He slowly turned around expecting to see the Warden behind him with a pair of hard steel open handcuffs, but instead he looked into the face of a man wearing a shirt emblazoned with the Sheraton Hotel chain.

"Sir...we're getting ready to close. We need to ask you to leave."

"What? What time is it?"

"It's almost 2:00 AM."

Jackson quickly looked all around him. The bar was empty. Gone were the Warden and the other man. The bright lights were on overhead and the TV was playing Brady Bunch re-runs. He slowly stood up, feeling slightly wobbly. The man quickly placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

Jackson nodded. "Yeah...I guess I fell asleep."

"You did. Been like this for hours. It happens. Can we help you to your room?"

"No I'm fine." He leaned on a nearby table and looked towards the empty bar. "The two men that were seated over there...did they leave a while ago?"

"Everyone has been gone for about an hour. We just decided to let you be."

"Thank you." Jackson felt his feet move below him and he slowly made his way towards the door looking again at the two empty seats. He couldn't believe how lucky he had been. He slowly made his way out to the hotel lobby and smiled seeing two cabs idling outside the door. He waved down the closest one and directed them to the motel. He rolled down the window and felt the rush of cold air blowing on his moist face covered with a cold sweat. It was only about a ten-minute drive. He thanked the driver, paid him and hopped out of the cab. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he saw movement in a small Chevy sedan parked behind him. There was a man seated in the front seat. He could immediately tell he was watching him. The figure bolted upright in the seat as soon as Jackson looked towards him. Jackson felt his nerves immediately waken, and his feet start walking quickly in the opposite direction. He quickly walked past the motel's front door and headed towards the side of the building. His room was located on the opposite side. He looked back over his shoulder and saw the interior light on in the Chevy. The door was open, and the figure was getting out. Jackson kept moving. He could feel his injured leg tightening up with each step, but he kept pushing forward. The light was off and the man was behind him and closing in. He walked quicker and made it to the end of the motel then turned towards the back disappearing momentarily from the pursuer. He began jogging, ignoring the worsening pain and made it to the back. It was a long motel composed of maybe fifty individual rooms on each side with a parking lot in front of the rooms both in front and back. He looked back again and didn't see anyone, so he bolted to the parking lot and squatted behind a pickup truck and waited. His leg was screaming. He rubbed it with his hand and tried to ignore it....no pain, no gain he told himself. A minute later, he saw the shadow of a dark figure slowly making his way around the motel and stepping into the parking lot in front of the rooms. The man was keeping to the shadows so it was difficult to make out any details about him, but it was clear he was following him. Jackson leaned in closer to the truck. He watched as the man ducked behind a car near the corner. He was only about twenty yard away. Jackson went down on his knees and began crawling away from him. He quickly made it behind a small Volkswagen. He could feel his leg giving out. He wasn't sure how much further he could go on it. Why was it so sore now? He couldn't see or hear any movement from his pursuer, but he knew he had to keep moving. He placed his knees back on the hard pavement and made his way to the next car. He thought he saw a shadow about ten yards away but he wasn't sure, so he kept going. He didn't stop at the next car. He decided to stand up and begin running. He felt his body moving in between cars like he was skiing a giant slalom. His leg was cooperating. He was amazed at how efficient he was. He made it all the way to the other end before sliding behind a large dumpster. He tried to catch his breath as he slowly looked around the dumpster area. He didn't see anything at first, but out of the corner of his eyes, he saw someone coming directly towards him. There was no way he could get out of the way. The man was only a few feet away and Jackson buckled backwards as the man's shoulder connected with his chest. He felt himself rolling uncontrollably away from the dumpster and onto the hard pavement. The man was much larger and heavier then him. He felt his body's weight pushing him down. He was trapped. A few seconds later, all movement ceased and he opened his eyes. He felt slightly woozy and sore. His head and body ached from striking the pavement. He thought he felt blood trickling down his forehead but he couldn't move his hands; they were trapped under his body. He looked into two of the nastiest and darkest eyes he had ever seen. Then everything suddenly went black.

Chapter 23

Dever jumped out of bed immediately kicking the rust out of his head from the last scotch. Alcohol had no lasting effect on him. He quickly threw on a pair of gym shorts and an Under Armor shirt his son had purchased for him last year. He said he had to look the part during his work outs. Dever preferred to wear his old Marine Corp shorts and a white T-shirt, but he gave into his son's wishes. A few minutes later, he was running on one of the treadmills in the exercise room located near the hotel's main lobby. The clerk behind the desk gave him a strange look as he walked by. The clock said it was 4:00 AM. Dever liked to get started early. He had always been that way. He was always the first one up for as long as he could remember. Even when he was a small boy, his parents would come downstairs and usually find him busy building model tanks from militaries all over the world, his favorite hobby as a kid and still to this day. He had every model tank he could find in his basement back home. It was filled with probably close to eight hundred different ones each painted to the finest detail possible. He did thirty minutes on the treadmill and then began working the weights. He looked at his body in the mirror and was still pleased with what he saw. He still looked like a Marine. Once a Marine, always a Marine was his motto, and he lived by that every day in everything he did. He spent another thirty minutes or so on the weight machines before heading back upstairs and heading into the shower. He had a long day in front of him and an important one as well. He had to make some progress in catching Jackson or he may never be caught. He began writing his attack plan on a small tablet of paper next to him as he shoveled in two scrambled eggs, bacon and a side of wheat toast in the restaurant.

Jackson slowly opened his eyes to a dark room. He couldn't see anything, and he couldn't move his arms or legs. He was tied down. It looked like he was in a motel room similar to the one he was staying in. It wasn't his, but he guessed it was in the same motel due to the same cheap furniture and wall décor. He was lying flat on his back on a bed. There didn't seem to anyone around. He moved his head all about looking towards the door then back to the tiny bathroom. There was no one there. He waited for the warden to pop out at any moment, but nothing happened. He wasn't sure how long he was awake, because he quickly felt himself drifting back to sleep. He couldn't keep his eyes open, and his forehead ached so much. He wanted to reach out and touch it, but he couldn't move his arms. He finally gave in and let his body go back to sleep...gone were the pain and worries. He opened his eyes again sometime later. He wasn't sure how long it had been, but the room was lit up from the sunlight streaming in through the half-open blinds. They were arched upwards to allow one to see out but not in. He quickly scanned the room and didn't see anyone, till his eyes reached a chair near the back of the room by the bathroom. He was holding a newspaper in front of him and appeared to be studying something in great detail. He appeared to be middle-aged with brown wavy hair, long bangs flowing over his forehead and a pleasant face. He was dressed in a navy blue polo and dark jeans. He could pass for any guy you would see on any street anywhere in the United States. Jackson studied his face trying to see if he recognized him, but he couldn't recall ever seeing him. He watched as the man finally placed the newspaper down and slowly stood up and walked over to the bed. He stopped a foot or so away from his right side.

"How are you feeling Mr. Stewart? How's your head?"

He had a smooth voice like one you might hear on the radio late at night doing commercials. Jackson kept his eyes focused directly on his, not blinking or turning away.

"I'm fine."

"You have a nasty cut on your forehead, sorry about that, but it was dark and I had to work fast." Jackson watched as his hand reached up and touched his forehead. He jumped when he felt the pressure. "Sorry. I just wanted to check the dressing. I tried to clean it up as best I could. I think you'll be okay.

Jackson slowly nodded. "Who are you?" He looked all around the room again for anyone else.

"Don't worry it's just me. You don't have to worry about the Warden in here."

"Who are you?"

"That's not important right now." Jackson tugged on his arms. "Don't bother...you'll just end up hurting yourself."

"If you're not with the Warden why am I in here?"

"Do you want me to let you go? Because I can make one phone call and a hundred police cars will be here in less than two minutes. You're a wanted man." Jackson nodded his head up and down. "We need to talk about what happened at SITA five years ago."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you know what I'm talking about. Do you remember me now?"

Jackson studied his very closely. The narrow green sparkling eyes and long slender nose didn't strike anything in his memory. "No I don't."

"You better think hard." Jackson kept studying the man and after a minute or so he shook his head. "I was the one that hired you for that job." Jackson closed his eyes and tried to remember that fateful night in a hotel suite in Washington, DC. He had been working as a computer consultant offering his services to a whole array of clients. They were mostly defense contractors, but there were also a few fun ones, like the tanning retailer that hired him to implement a new point of sale system that couldn't be penetrated. Apparently, there had been a few cases of missing money. Part of the deal was free tanning for life, but he never took them up on that. Then there was the SITA job and Jackson was hired to try and penetrate the system. He usually performed these kinds of services a few times a year. It was the kind of assignment where he got to put all his skills to the test and see if he could break a system. He usually could, but this one was different. They had wanted him to go on site and test out his work after hacking in and de-activating the security system. He remembered feeling excited about it and when he met the employer he was so intrigued that he let a few of the important details slide. He studied the man's face again and then it hit him. It was the same guy he had met in the hotel, he just looked different. He had been wearing glasses, his nose was different and his eyes were a different color. He must have had surgery or was wearing facial add-ons, but it was the same guy.

"Now you remember me...right?" Jackson nodded. "You like it? Compliments of my favorite plastic surgeon." The mam took a step back. "So now you know why I'm here right?" Jackson shook his head again. "Really...does the sum of twenty million dollars ring a bell?"

"Twenty million dollars?"

"Yes...tell me where it is and you are free to go. I can promise you the Warden will never find you.

"I never had twenty million dollars." Jackson watched as the man took a step closer.

"Look I'm not here to play games. I know you got the money when you shot the security guard because when I went in the safe was open and empty."

"I never saw a safe."

"Do you want me to make the call to the police? You want to go back to prison?" Jackson shook his head.

"I just entered the building then I heard the gunshot and I ran away. I didn't see a safe. I didn't even see the security guard."

Jackson watched as the man pulled out an iPhone and held it up. "Stop...please. We both know you were the only one there besides the security guard. I have you on camera walking in the building." Jackson closed his eyes and remembered entering the building. He had been sitting in his car in the parking lot of the SITA building. It was a giant defense contractor corporation that dealt in classified Government cash transactions, for what he had no idea. It was a large glass building consisting of seven floors and housed close to four hundred employees. It was his job to deactivate the security system, which he easily did by connecting to the console and server from his laptop. It only took him ten minutes to turn off, though he had done hours of research prior to being in the parking lot. After he turned it off, the directions stated he was to enter the building and stay inside for five minutes so it could be recorded and reviewed the next day with the management team. The jury had seen the footage of him entering the building. He had even admitted to turning off the alarm system despite his lawyer advising him not to. The jury convicted him in less than an hour for murdering the security guard. There had been no mention of the safe or the money during the trial, the only battle his lawyer had won.

"I don't have any money. Please just let me go." The man leaned closer and punched him in the forehead causing Jackson's vision to become blurry and then finally fade out.

Chapter 24

Dever pulled into the Stewart driveway and had Timmons park behind a police cruiser. It was one of the new Fords. The Crown Vic's were casually being phased out. Dever strode up to the house alongside with Timmons and banged on the door. A minute later, a new officer answered the door. Dever and Timmons blew by him and found Michelle on the couch watching a kids show with Stephanie in her lap. It looked like Dora the Explorer but he couldn't be sure. They all looked the same to him.

"Warden?" Michelle said. She immediately repositioned Stephanie on her lap.

Dever sat in a dark blue recliner across from them. He glanced at the TV screen quickly. "Did you hear back from him yet?" He watched Michelle shake her head. "We're going to have to monitor your email from here on out. I hope you understand."

He watched Michelle look at Stephanie who was fully engrossed in the show then back at Dever. "I'm still not comfortable with setting him up like this tonight."

"I understand Mrs. Stewart but as I told you yesterday it's for his own safety. We need to get him off the street and back safe into prison before some overaggressive police officer finds him." He looked toward the young police officer standing in the doorway. The officer quickly looked away.

"I understand, but what if we don't hear back from him?"

"I expect we will hear from him. You're the reason he is back, if you say you want to meet him. He'll show."

"I hope you're right."

"I promise you we'll give you time with him too, before we take him back...let him spend some time with your beautiful little girl there too." They both looked toward Stephanie who was still watching Dora."

"I hope you know what you're doing Warden. I just don't understand why he left. He never said anything about it."

"He probably knew there was a chance his email was being monitored and didn't want to take any chances. I have to say your husband is one of the cleverest people I have ever dealt with. I mean he has escaped me at least three times. It's like he just vanishes into thin air." He shook his head. "I can honestly say I have never seen anything like him and I spent twenty years in the Marine Corp fighting against some of the deadliest and smartest foes in the world." He watched Michelle nod her head and look at a picture on the end table of her and Jackson. They both looked much younger. "How did you guys meet?"

"In college. We got teamed up in a public speaking class. He kept asking me out and I said we couldn't date because we were working on a project together, so as soon as the class was over he asked me out and I said yes and we've been together ever since...at least till they came and took him away." She wiped a tear from her eye. "He was the most gentle and kindest person you could ever meet. You should have seen him with Steph. She was his world."

"I don't dispute you ma'am, but I read through the transcripts and they had a pretty tight case. They even have him on camera entering the facility after he admitted to decoding the security system."

Michelle shook her head so hard it caused Stephanie to look back. "It was his job Warden. He accepted assignments all the time. He was a freelance computer security consultant. He was hired to show the weaknesses of the system."

The Warden glanced down at his phone then placed it back in his pocket. "I didn't know it was a computer security consultant's job to physically enter a building after turning off the security. With all due respect ma'am, there may have been more to your husband's job than you thought."

Michelle quickly stood up. "With all due respect Mr. Warden there may be a lot more to Jackson than you know. I'd like to ask you to leave us alone now so I can spend time with my daughter. Thank you." Dever stood up and slowly walked towards the door behind Timmons. He stopped and turned around and looked back at Michelle and Stephanie.

"We'll see you tonight at the Candlelight."

Michelle shook her head and scooped up Stephanie into her arms. "We'll see...we'll see."

Dever quickly jumped into the passenger seat and watched Timmons start up the car. "Let's go to the SITA building." Timmons nodded and quickly backed the car out of the wide driveway. Dever stared at the Stewart house and took several long breaths to lower his stress level.

Jackson woke up sometime later. The sun was out so he knew it had to be morning. He immediately turned his head towards the chair and saw the man still seated there staring directly at him.

"Nice nap?" Jackson shook his head. "You ready to talk now?"

"I don't know anything about the money. Pease just let me go."

"Just tell me where it is and then I'll come back and set you free." The man slowly stood up and walked to the edge of the bed.

"What about going to the bathroom...can I at least do that?"

"Just talk to me. C'mon I waited five years for this."

"It could have been twenty if I wasn't here now. How did you find me so quickly anyway?"

"I've been tracking you since you've been in prison and escaped. I have people everywhere even in prison. You probably don't even remember them. Jackson closed his eyes and thought back to all the people in prison. None of them stood out. It had been such a blur. He was so disoriented most of the time. He didn't know if it was daytime or nighttime and all the prisoners were trying to talk to him and push him. Jackson had just gone along with it and then they left him alone afterwards.

"I need to use the bathroom. I think I'm going to be sick." Jackson watched the man take a step back and pull out a small semi-automatic pistol from his waistband.

"You got five minutes." He pointed the gun at Jackson's head. "I'll untie one arm and you can do the rest. Then when you're done you will tie yourself back up." A minute later, the man untied the rope on his right arm. He took a step back and held the gun up and aimed it at Jackson. Jackson quickly untied his limbs and slowly sat up. He moved his feet to the floor and slowly stood up. The room began to spin. He quickly grabbed hold of the end table to steady his feet and somehow made it to the bathroom without falling. "Keep the door open." Jackson looked back at the man. He was still holding the weapon. Jackson cringed when he looked in the mirror and saw the bandage on his head. It was sloppy and crusted with blood. He immediately pulled it off and washed the large gash in his forehead with a wet towel. It hurt to touch, but looked and felt much better afterwards. The bleeding had stopped but he would have a large scar for a long time. "Let's go Stewart...I don't have all day." Jackson ignored him and turned the water on again as hot as it would go. He watched the mirror fog up and let his lungs enjoy the hot steam. He instantly felt a soothing calm overtake his body. He found the ice bucket and moved it towards the sink. He was enjoying the instant relief.

"You've got ten seconds, then I'm coming in there." Jackson took his finger and rubbed it on the mirror forming a bunch of letters. "I'm coming in." Jackson leaned forward towards the sink and waited. A few seconds later, he watched as the man entered the bathroom, his gun aimed out in front of him. He quickly stopped when he saw the words on mirror and started reading. Jackson leaned over and grabbed the ice bucket full of steaming hot water and threw it at his face. The man immediately went down on the floor grabbing his face and screaming. The gun made a loud sound as it landed on the floor somewhere. Jackson wasn't sure where. He took one last look back at the bathroom before he began to run. He saw the mirror where he wrote, "money is the root of all evil"; and quietly laughed to himself. A minute later, he was running out the motel door to the parking lot when he heard the gun shot.

Chapter 25

Dever and Timmons pulled into the parking lot of SITA headquarters. It was a large facility located in Arlington, Virginia right off of Rt. 395. They parked in one of the visitor spaces and slowly made their way towards the main entrance. A minute later, they were speaking to a security guard at the main desk and were eventually escorted to the Director of Security's office.

After brief introductions, the Director pointed towards a large monitor located on the wall. "This is the surveillance video of the night of the incident. I've edited it down some so you will just see the key parts." Timmons and Dever leaned forward and watched the screen. The footage was of the parking lot. The same one they were parked in. "There you can see the car parked and a man seated in there." They both squinted and could see a figure seated in the driver's seat. "They determined that was the same car that Mr. Stewart owned." He pushed a button and the video quickly forwarded. "Now you'll see him enter through the main entrance." They watched what was definitely Stewart enter the building and disappear around a corner. "Here's where it gets a little bad." They watched the video forward again. "That man standing there is one of our security guards. He's positioned outside our vault." A minute later, a figure shows up on the far end of the screen and a muzzle flash is seen, and the guard goes down. The figure enters the vault and about five minutes later returns carrying a large sack and disappears off the screen. It is difficult to tell if it is Stewart because of the darkness, but he is dressed the same and about the same size. A minute later, the video cuts off. "That's the end of the video. Our video system went offline at this point. Hacked by Mr. Stewart, I assume." Both Dever and Timmons shook their heads. Timmons quickly stepped out of the room when his phone began ringing and returned a few seconds later he told Dever they had to go. Gunshots were reported at a nearby hotel. They thanked the Director and quickly headed back towards their car.

Jackson ducked behind a small Mazda as a bullet ripped through the steel on the car next to him. He could see the man standing outside the motel door. His face was bright red, and he was holding the gun with one hand and touching his burned face with the other. He was aiming in his direction and pulled the trigger again. The bullet whizzed over his head. Jackson turned and sprinted out of the parking lot towards the main road. There wasn't much traffic, so he quickly crossed the road and ran to a Seven-Eleven parking lot drawing a few looks from customers inside. A second later, he heard the array of sirens approaching. He knew he had to move. He looked back, and the man was standing across the street waiting on a large truck to drive by. Jackson only had a few seconds to make his move. He quickly scurried out of the Seven-Eleven parking lot and ran next door to a restaurant. It was one of those chain restaurants that usually drew a large crowd during the lunch hour, so Jackson leaned down and starting hiding behind the cars. He found a large Fed Ex van and hid behind it while a police car sped by with its lights ablaze. The car pulled into the motel parking lot, and the officer headed toward the open motel room. Another shot, this one coming from the Seven Eleven. Jackson waited for a sharp pain, but felt nothing, so he kept on running. More police cars and sirens. It seemed as though they were everywhere. He stopped at the edge of the restaurant parking lot and looked back. He could see the police cars pulling into the Seven-Eleven. A second later, he heard footsteps to the right of him. He quickly knelt down and watched the man with the burned face run by. He was looking behind him. A second later, two policeman ran by not far behind. They were screaming for him to stop and drop his weapon. Jackson almost smiled and relaxed for a minute till he heard a familiar voice. It was the Warden's, and he was close by because he could hear him barking out orders that it was his man out there. Jackson slowly and carefully turned around and headed towards a large gas station. It was one of those ones that serve truckers and cars alike. He made it over to the truck side where there were easily twenty-five large eighteen wheelers parked about. He crawled near the closest one and sat down behind a set of double tires hiding him from anyone's view. He sat back and listened to the sirens coming and going. It sounded like every police car in Virginia was on-site. After a while, he felt himself drifting off until the roar of the engine caused him to jump up. He quickly ran out from behind the tires just as the big rig began to pull out. The sound was deafening and as soon as the truck cleared away he saw three police cars on the other side. He had nowhere to hide. He was out in the open. He quickly turned around and casually walked towards the closest truck and pretended to examine the trailer and then the cab. A minute later, he climbed up the ladder and pulled open the door. He couldn't believe his luck, it was unlocked. He sat down in the driver's seat and instantly felt the power. It was like he was in control of one of the most powerful beasts on earth. There were controls and gauges all around. He was high above the ground and the seat was comfortably equipped with specialized contours. He couldn't tell if the officers were looking his way, but he continued to pretend he was getting ready to drive till he watched the last one leave. He let his eyes wander onto the gauges and pretended he was driving the big rig down the highway till he heard someone behind him. It was a large Kenworth with a sleeping cab behind the driver's seat. He slowly turned around and saw the large bearded man making his way towards him.

"You having fun?"

Jackson nodded. "Something I always wanted to do. It's amazing."

"Get out." Just then, Jackson noticed the shiny revolver the man was holding.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't think anyone was in here. I couldn't resist."

"Out." He pointed at the door. "Or I'll grab one of those cops I keep hearing...now!"

Jackson quickly found the door handle and jumped down the steps. He didn't even look back. He made his way across the rest of the parking lot to the last truck where he was able to look back towards the hotel and Seven-Eleven. It looked like most of the activity had died down. He figured they either caught the man or gave up. He wasn't sure how long he had been hiding behind the tires either. He had lost track of time again, just like he was back in prison. He found a small bench at the end of the parking lot where he sat and watched the trucks come and go till he remembered the man said he had people everywhere, and he believed him. He still couldn't figure out how he had tracked him down to the motel, especially after the Warden couldn't. He looked behind him and all around. Everything was clear as far as he could tell, so he started walking towards the small convenience store attached to the gas station.

Chapter 26

Dever kept walking around the tiny motel room and staring at the bathroom mirror. The police techs were already comparing the blood found in the bathroom and on the bed with Jackson's DNA; though Dever was already sure they were a match. He still wasn't clear on what had actually happened here. The detectives were saying that Jackson had held someone prisoner, and the person had escaped, but Dever was thinking the opposite. The words about money on the mirror bothered him. He couldn't figure out what that was all about. The police had chased someone through the parking lot, but he had got away along with Stewart, who he knew was here too. The police were currently going room to room in the motel looking for him or any trace of him. The clerk said he thought Stewart looked familiar when they showed him a picture. Dever walked around the bed again and looked carefully at the four ropes used to tie someone down with. They were expertly tied and restrained by someone who obviously knew what they were doing. He quickly looked towards the door when he saw Timmons enter the room.

"They found his room. It's on the back side." Dever followed Timmons out of the room but quickly stopped, turned around and walked back into the room and snapped a picture of the mirror with his iPhone. A minute later, they entered the room checked out to Stewart. It was laid out exactly as the other one was, the same awful furniture and décor. Dever followed a uniformed police officer to the bathroom area where he showed him the remains of a used hair dye box and several receipts from CVS. Dever had seen CVS across the street on the other side of the Seven-Eleven. He reminded himself to check out their surveillance videos at some point. He read through the receipts and saw various food items and a pair of reading glasses. A pair had been found in the other room, so he figured they must be Stewarts. He walked around the room several times and sat on the bed and closed his eyes.

"You okay Warden?"

"I'm fine Timmons...just trying to figure out what happened." He waved him away. Timmons headed back outside leaving Dever to himself. The best Dever could figure out was Stewart never made it to his room and was jumped before he could do anything. He was held captive in the other room by someone else. The police had gathered reports that at least three gunshots were fired in the vicinity, but there had been no reported injuries or damages. He guessed Stewart must have somehow escaped from the man and avoided being shot and got away. He just couldn't figure out why. He thought back to the message on the mirror about money being the root of all evil. It didn't make any sense. They were trying to get fingerprints from the mirror, but he wasn't sure how great they would be, and even if they could determine whose they were he wasn't sure what they would mean. How could someone else have found Stewart anyway? He thought. He had looked everywhere and kept getting outsmarted by him every time. At least, the one constellation he had was that Stewart had gotten away again...but from whom he didn't know, and he needed to figure out very soon. He circled the room several more times then went outside and found Timmons.

Michelle was snuggled on the couch watching a talk show when the news broke in and showed the motel and the name Jackson Stewart on the bottom of the screen. She felt her heartbeat stop upon seeing this, then it started up again when the voice said they believe had escaped unharmed. The cameras showed the outside of the room that he was believed to be staying in and the location of the three gunshots. They had painted tiny yellow circles around each casing. She didn't believe Jackson was shooting people, but the newsman wasn't clear on who was doing the shooting or why. There were no reports of anyone being shot so she was feeling a little better by the time the talk show host re-appeared and started talking about depression in young adults. She sent Michelle to school with her security entourage. She hadn't wanted to do it, but her kindergarten class was having a special party today that she had been looking forward to all year. Michelle was supposed to be one of the chaperones, but she figured it would be better for her to stay away than to field lots of questions about Jackson. The two police officers who escorted her to school were both dressed in normal attire, and the teacher guaranteed that there would be no mention of any of this to Stephanie. Michelle looked at the clock on the wall and saw she still had three hours till she would be home. She had been so excited to sit in the back of the unmarked police car when she had left for school. She still wasn't quite sure why she needed all the security with her but after seeing the report on the news she was starting to wonder if she really knew the full story. Maybe the Warden was right. A minute later, just as she had expected, the phone rang and the police officer said it was the Warden. She slowly made her way over.

"Hello Mrs. Stewart. I take it you have heard what happened?"

She gripped the phone a little tighter. "I saw the news report."

"Good. It appears your husband escaped safely. So that's good news. Do you have any idea why someone else would be after him?"

She looked over at the young officer seated at the kitchen table. He quickly turned away. "No Warden I have no idea. Are you sure it was him?"

"Yes, we have multiple witnesses who saw him in the parking lot and running away. We also have a hotel clerk who remembers checking him in. The police are thinking Jackson had someone held captive, but I believe it was the other way around."

Michelle took a deep breath. "I agree with that."

"Do you know anything about money and Jackson? Was he involved in any money schemes or anything?"

"Of course not Warden, remember I told you he was a security consultant not a banker."

"There was an interesting expression written on the bathroom mirror about money being the root of all evil, that I'm guessing your husband wrote."

"For your information, Jackson was not a money person. He didn't believe in needing a lot of money to be happy. We had everything when he was here."

"Thank you Mrs. Stewart. Please let me know if you can think of anybody that might be after your husband."

"I will." She hung up, handed the phone back to the officer and ran upstairs to their bedroom.

Chapter 27

Jackson handed the clerk seventy-five dollars for the Tracphone with a web browser. He couldn't believe they were selling these things at a convenience store. Throw-away phones with internet access. A lot had changed in the last five years since he had been incarcerated. He had tried to keep up by browsing hundreds of websites and news feeds while on the library computers, but to actually see it first hand was really amazing. He quickly left the store and made his way back across the busy parking lot. He had no place to go. There was no way he could head back to the motel, and it was too risky to go near his house; so he decided to wander down the road sticking close to the sidewalk and stores. It was still light out so everything was still open. He saw a McDonalds up ahead; he decided to go in there. Just as he stepped into the parking lot, he heard a loud siren directly behind him. He quickly turned around and saw a police cruiser heading directly for him with his lights brightly flashing. He began to walk faster towards the door, but there was no way he was going to make it. He decided to stop as the police car pulled up alongside of him in front of McDonalds. He could see all the curious faces and workers peering out the enormous glass windows. He quickly turned his attention back to the officer seated in the cruiser next to him. He looked to be in his thirties and appeared to have a large upper-body trained from hours on a weight bench. His hair was very dark and with a two-day stubble on his face and left him looking like a young Sly Stallone. He was waving at Jackson to stop. Jackson began to turn around and run in the other direction until he saw the small barrel of a Sig Saur being pointed directly at him. He squeezed the Tracfone in his hand and closed his eyes. His mind immediately went back to the conduit and Michelle and Stephanie. He kept seeing his daughter standing just a few feet from him in their house. He could almost reach out and touch her. The officer was yelling commands but they weren't registering, everything was just blurring together. He wasn't sure what was happening. It was like all of a sudden the world was in manic motion. He couldn't see or hear the people behind him anymore instead, just a constant buzzing sound. The officer was out of his car and coming towards Jackson, but he wasn't moving. He just saw the muzzle aimed directly at his heart ready to take everything away from him. He wasn't quite sure what happened next but somehow the officer was on the ground and Jackson was behind the wheel of the police car pulling out of the McDonalds parking lot. He quickly made a left and drove quickly. He had no idea what he was doing or where he was going. The only thing he knew was he had just committed another crime, and this was a major one. He could see police cars blazing behind him heading towards the McDonalds, so he gunned the engine and made several more sharp turns till he ended up in a small business complex. He drove behind a large warehouse and parked the cruiser against the furthest wall. He slowly stepped out of the car and took several breaths, his first since he took the car. He was trying to remember how it all happened, but nothing was entering his mind, He had the officer's Sig tucked into his pants. He just hoped he hadn't pulled the trigger, He remembered seeing the officer lying on the parking lot on his back. He didn't remember seeing any blood, so that was a good thing; but there may have been blood everywhere for all he knew. It was all still very blurry. He listened to the distant sirens, happy none of them appeared to be heading in his direction. He sat down against the wall in front of the police car. There was no one around. He guessed business hours were over and the employees had gone home. He closed his eyes and tried to remember exactly what happened till he felt the Tracfone in his pocket. He pulled it out and clicked the browser on the tiny screen. It was hard to see, but he somehow managed to access his Gmail account. He felt his heart begin to tremble when he saw the email from Michelle. She had wanted to meet him at the Candlelight last night. Everything suddenly became clear again. He could see and hear. He immediately typed a response and said he could meet her tonight. He wasn't sure how it would happen, but there was no way he was passing it up. It was close to 6:00 PM now, so he asked her if they could meet at 8:30. He knew Stephanie would be a problem, but he hoped maybe she would come too. He closed his eyes again and imagined sitting down for a nice dinner with his family. He and Michelle would order medium steaks and Stephanie would have macaroni and cheese or chicken fingers. He wasn't sure what her favorite was and he hated not knowing. It had killed him for the last five years and now he was finally free, but he was hiding behind an old warehouse with a stolen police car and holding the weapon of a police officer that he didn't know was alive or dead. He tried to sniff the barrel like they do on TV, but he couldn't tell. He just knew he had to keep moving. They would eventually find the car, especially if it has a GPS tracking device. He was getting so tired. He began walking away from the warehouse towards a small patch of dark woods. A few minutes later, he heard the sound of helicopters above him, so he started to jog. He came out on the other side and was behind a Dunkin Donuts. He quietly entered the store and ordered a donut and had the clerk call a cab. He sat by the window with his fingers crossed hoping the cab showed up before the police. About two minutes later, he sighed as a yellow cab pulled into the parking lot.

"Where to?"

"Candlelight." Jackson smiled for the first time since he had escaped.

Michelle jumped when she heard the email ping on her iPad. She dropped the files she was looking at and clicked on her email. She felt a rush in her heart like you do when you're teenage crush talks to you for the first time. Jackson had written back. He said he could meet her at the Candlelight tonight. She so wanted to tell him not to come and that he was being setup, but she knew the Warden and his men were monitoring everything she was doing. She hesitantly wrote a reply back that she would see him at 8:30. It was only a few hours from now. She was kneeling in front of a file cabinet that Jackson had used for his business. He kept records of all the work he had done. She remembered how excited he had been when he first started his business. He had been working for a large security company before and then one day he had come home and said he was going out on his own. They had talked about it for hours and met with various tax advisors and attorneys until they both were convinced that he could make a living on his own. He had been at it for about four years until the police showed up that one night. He was making decent money. They were not rich by any means and still struggled but he had contracts lined up for the next few years. Michelle had actually begun working part-time to help with the organizing and administration of his work. She pulled the last few files and concentrated on the one with SITA. It brought it chill down her spine. It was only two pages, but it specified the details of what was expected. She remembered the documents very clearly. He was supposed to see if he could get around the security system and actually enter the building and go all the way to room A-114; which was apparently what he had done. They had a video in the courtroom showing him do just that. It was shown numerous times. They even had an expert testify that the man doing the shooting was Jackson, but it was grainy...though he was dressed the same way and appeared like Jackson. The jury had agreed with the expert. She read the name at the bottom of the file...Braymond Reynolds. She took a long hard look at the picture of him, his bright green eyes and long thin nose staring back at her. It said they had an appointment a few weeks prior to the attack and it specified the time, date and place where they were to meet. It was in a hotel room about five minutes away from the headquarters. She remembered telling Jackson all about it. He had been so excited. This was fairly normal for most of his contracts that involved testing the system. He only had a few like that a year, but she remembered how much he enjoyed those. She had watched him prepare for this one on their living room couch in front of the TV with his laptop. She would often find him asleep several hours later when she came back to check on him. She hoped he was okay and some motivated police officer didn't shoot him and end his life. She heard the phone ringing before it even did and waited till the officer downstairs called up to her and told her it was the warden. She reluctantly picked up the phone.

"Hello Mrs. Stewart. I see you responded to your husband's email. Thank you. We will have you there at 8:30."

"You promised me he won't be harmed and I can spend some time with him."

There was a long pause. "That is correct, though we do have a little complication that may make us speed things up. Apparently your husband was involved in a little scuffle with the police earlier today outside a McDonalds."

Michelle closed her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"We're still gathering information, but apparently an officer tracked Stewart down near a McDonalds and was taking him into custody when Jackson lashed out and put him on the ground. He took his weapon and police car."

"Jackson?"

"Yes ma'am."

"He's not a physical guy."

"Apparently he is ma'am. We seem to be learning a lot of new things about your husband. The officer wasn't seriously injured but still he still assaulted an officer and stole his gun and car."

Michelle actually felt herself smile thinking of Jackson riding around in a police car. "Thanks for letting me know."

"No problem. So we'll have to work fast tonight so the police don't find out about our little meeting. You should at least be able to spend time with him in the car. Timmons will be by to pick you up."

"What about you Warden?"

Another long pause, "I'll be there early so we can make sure he shows up."

"I hope you're not up to anything Warden. I'm a little nervous about this."

"I understand. I am a man of my word. I just don't want to get him mixed up with the police or the Marshalls until we have him safely in custody."

"The Marshalls?" She squeezed the phone tighter.

"Yes, it is common practice for them to track down escaped fugitives, but if all goes well in a few hours he will be safe and sound back where he belongs...for now."

"I hope so...please be careful."

"Will do ma'am. Like I told you...you have my word." Michelle hung the phone up and began to cry. She was so nervous. She hoped this worked. She placed her head in her hands and tried to wipe the tears, but they wouldn't stop till she heard Stephanie's little feet outside the door.

"What's wrong Mommy?" Michelle pulled her in tight into her arms.

"Mommy's just a little tired." She tried to wipe all the rest of the tears away."

"Is this about Daddy?"

"Yes sweetheart. Mommy just misses Daddy."

"Me too Mommy." Michelle hugged her tighter.

"Mommy has to go out for a little while tonight, but Ms. Barbara said she would come over till I get back."

"Okay Mommy. Maybe she'll bake some cookies again."

"Maybe she will baby." Michelle looked up at the clock...it was approaching 7:00 PM only an hour and a half to go.

Chapter 28

Jackson had the cab drop him off a hundred yards shy of the Candlelight. It was located on Sycamore Street, a busy road filled with a many restaurants and small quaint shops. There were no chains here. He had heard there was an ordinance, but he wasn't sure. It was a popular area for families and couples on dates. There were ice-cream shops and small coffee houses always filled with happy-looking people talking about whatever was the hot water cooler topic of the day. Jackson and Michelle used to come down here all the time before Stephanie was born and just hang out. There were usually plenty of family-oriented street performers always ready to entertain a crowd as well. They had even brought Stephanie a few times in her stroller. Jackson slowly walked towards the restaurant. It was up ahead on the left hand side situated between a small antique store and a wig store. He smiled looking at the wig store thinking of them trying on countless wigs. It was a fun place to go. The entire back wall was one big mirror and the employees encouraged you to have fun with the different wigs. They even had professional photographers on hand. The Candlelight was a small restaurant famous for its combination of seafood and steak, and of course the candle lights that dimly lit up each table. Each one was a handcrafted by the owner and no two were the same. They were all magnificent pieces carved from many different types of wood and the most amazing part was they were all replaced every year, all thirty-five of them. At the end of the year, right before Christmas they would hold an auction where you could try and buy one of the gems. Sometimes the prices would go as high as five thousand dollars. Jackson and Michelle had come to watch on several occasions, but they had never been able to afford one. Jackson approached the restaurant and looked all around. He didn't see Michelle, but it was still early. He still had over an hour until she arrived. There was a fairly heavy crowd about on Sycamore tonight. He was glad that hadn't changed. No one paid any attention to him. He was wearing a dark blue baseball cap pulled down fairly low, but not too low so as not to draw any attention. He knew his picture had been posted on the news and newspapers and figured most people in this crowd were news watchers so he had to be careful. He found a bench secluded off a dark walking path. He remained in place for about thirty minutes before making his way in. He asked for a specific window seat and the hostess complied as soon as it came open. He smiled and thanked her. He ordered a Diet Coke and kept his eyes trained outside the window. He could feel the tension building in his body as the time approached. It was only about fifteen minutes until they were scheduled to meet. He didn't see any unusual activity, but he figured they were out there. He thought there would be undercover police officers scattered all about, but so far he had seen no one suspicious. He swiped a slab of butter onto a warm piece of bread and smiled thinking of Michelle sitting across from him. He could almost feel her in his mind, still no activity outside; just normal people enjoying the evening. He kept his eyes focused on the window while the waitress came by and brought him a second Diet Coke. He was really nervous. He could feel the tension throughout his body being rejuvenated by the splurge of caffeine attacking his nervous system. He quickly glanced all around the restaurant. It wasn't very crowded. It was mostly filled with couples. No one was paying any special attention to him, so he continued his vigilance on the window.

Dever was standing in the kitchen peering through a small slat on the busy door. He had his body hidden to the side so when the door was opened he couldn't be seen. He had been here for about an hour now and informed all the wait staff to just ignore him. So far they had been compliant. He couldn't see the whole restaurant but he could see the table where Michelle would be seated. He had already informed the hostess that she would be seated here. He knew Jackson would show up soon thereafter. He expected him to be here early and he had scoped the area out several times and hadn't seen him or anyone suspicious. The plan was to let Michelle sit down and order and then as soon as Jackson showed, Timmons would approach from the front and he would come from the back. They had made sure the tables between Dever and the target table would be empty. Dever didn't expect any confrontation, but he wasn't sure if Jackson still had the officer's gun. The police had said they found it in the cruiser behind a warehouse, but Dever didn't know if they were telling him the whole story. He knew there was an element of embarrassment involved so he might not get the whole picture. Dever leaned against the wall. He could feel the excitement building in his bones. He loved it. He was an adrenaline junkie by heart. Always had been and probably always will. He felt his gun on his side just to make sure it was still there; even though it always was. He had already cleaned it several times this morning. He was adamant about a clean weapon. That was the one thing he had always instilled in his troops and it paid off in combat because he never had a weapon jam when needed. He watched a tall young waiter scoot by him holding a tray full of burgers. It smelled so good, but he ignored it. There would be plenty of time for that later. He and his wife would go out to a nice steak dinner tomorrow to celebrate. He wondered what the Marshalls were doing. They were probably still in North Carolina trying to track his prisoner. There was no way he was going to let them show him up. He couldn't wait to pull up to the prison and show off his capture. He imagined all the press, the Governor and everyone having so many questions. He would answer every one of them no matter how long it took. He actually jumped when his phone rang. It was Timmons. He said he was five minutes out. Dever squeezed his weapon a little tighter.

Michelle was driving her Ford slowly and Timmons was seated in the back. She could see his face in the mirror; it was a mask of uncertainty. She felt the same way. She wasn't sure what to expect. She hoped things would work out the way she wanted them to but she wasn't sure. She wiped a tear from her eye and kept focused on the busy street. She had left Stephanie with Joan and knew she would be okay. They were getting ready to bake cookies when she had left. Stephanie had promised to make two cookies for her. She had even said she would make two for daddy. Michelle felt another tear stream down her face as they turned onto Sycamore and Timmons quickly ducked down out of view from outside the car. She could see all the shops and restaurants. It had been five years since she had last come here. She just couldn't come back without Jackson. She had thought about bringing Stephanie a few times but she just couldn't do it. She could see the Candlelight up ahead and felt her stomach lurch as she stopped the car in the parking lot next to the restaurant. She slowly got out and looked all around her. She could see all the relaxed and smiling faces walking past her. She wished one of them was hers. She felt her jaw clenching her teeth together as her legs guided her towards the restaurant. She could see the soft bouncing lights through the window from the candles. She couldn't see Jackson yet but she was feeling him in every bone of her body. She just knew he was nearby. She felt like yelling for him to run, but Timmons was located behind her somewhere, she was sure of that. It felt so foreign on her. She stopped at the door and looked all around. The hostess seemed to understand that she needed a moment. She looked all around at all the other shops and restaurants nearby. She focused on a couple standing in front of a restaurant across the way. They looked so happy and in love. She closed her eyes and imagined it was her and Jackson. A minute later, she opened them and concentrated on the window across from her. She could see the soft lights from the Candlelight reflecting on it. It was so soothing. A second later, she was seated at a table with no one else around. She was sure that was planned. Jackson wasn't here yet which had her both nervous and at ease at the same time. She looked around and didn't see the Warden or Timmons anywhere, but she knew they were close by probably monitoring her every move. A minute later, a young pretty waitress who appeared slightly nervous took her order for a glass of white wine.

Chapter 29

Dever kept looking at his watch and wondering where Stewart was. He was certain he would show up. He had no doubt in his mind that Stewart's whole escape plan was all about reuniting with his family. The way he figured it; Stewart was planning on escaping and then getting away for a while and once things calmed down planning on coming to see his family, but all that had changed after the airport. He wasn't sure where everything was going to end up now, but he was sure Stewart would somehow come and see his wife. He had checked all the emails and phone calls and there was no secret message or secret phone call he to tip him off as far as he could tell. There was also no way he could have seen him sneak in here a few hours ago. He had entered through the back kitchen door dressed in the same attire that the cooks were wearing. He took a long look behind him at each one of the busy workers. None of them were paying him any attention. He wondered what the owner had told them. He could see Timmons by the door and wondered if Jackson was out front somewhere and could somehow see them, but he knew there was no way he could see though walls. He felt himself relax a little as he watched an elderly couple make their way into the restaurant and sit down at least ten tables away from Michelle. She looked so innocent and helpless sitting there. He felt like walking over to her and offering her his comfort. He could see the disappointment on her face probably wondering where her husband was. He was really surprised at how easily she had gone along with the plan. He didn't think he would be able to do it with his loved ones, but everyone was different and as he had explained to her Stewart's safety was in jeopardy. He knew the police were licking their chops to get their hands on him, especially after the McDonalds incident. They still believed it was Jackson holding someone hostage and firing the shots earlier, though he knew differently. He kept his thoughts to himself. The less they know the better. He knew Jackson would eventually be caught; they always were and after the assault on the police officer every law enforcement eye would be on the lookout for him. He just hoped he got there first. He raised his radio to his ear and listened to Timmons relay that Stewart didn't seem to be anywhere around. Dever responded back to be patient. It was going on 9:00PM, but he was sure Stewart was just being cautious and checking every possible outcome. The guy was smart, almost too smart. It made him wonder how long he was actually planning this escape, probably for years. The walking right out of the Conduit was genius. He walked right by one of the sharpest men in the whole unit. He still couldn't believe it. He took another long look around the restaurant and froze seeing a man slowly walk in by himself. He was wearing a dark pull-over hooded sweatshirt and a cap pulled down low over his face. It looked like he was wearing glasses as well. Dever slowly leaned back into the kitchen where he could see Timmons better. Timmons was seated with his side to Michelle in the far corner. Dever could see him watching out of the corner of his eye. A minute later, the hostess walked the man over to Michelle's table. He couldn't see her face, but he watched the man sit down and speak to the waitress who quickly scurried off looking towards Timmons. Dever worked on his breathing to keep himself under control. He leaned against the door and waited just as he had promised.

Michelle couldn't believe it when the hostess seated him across from her. It was the eyes that did it to her. She couldn't stop staring at his eyes. They were slightly magnified behind the glasses, but she still recognized them. She couldn't believe he was here. What was he doing? She looked all around and saw Timmons across the room slowly rising to his feet and nodding in the direction of the kitchen where she figured the Warden was. Michelle began shaking almost uncontrollably, so much so that she kept her hands below the table and squeezed her purse to try and calm herself down. A second later, he leaned across causing the candle light to flicker and whispered something in her ear and told her to look across the street. Michelle kept her eyes focused forward as he quickly rose up and began to slowly walk towards the door. She closed her eyes as both Timmons and the Warden converged on him at the same time. A few seconds later, she opened them up and saw both Timmons and the Warden on the floor screaming for someone to go after him. Timmons made his way to his feet and scrambled out the door while the Warden made his way over to her. He did not look happy. He sat down quickly next to her. She could see the stress building in his eyes and the disbelief on his face. He stared into his iPhone and began to dial. Michelle turned her head slightly and smiled looking out the window across the street. She held up her wine glass and took a long sip then began chewing on the seafood pasta causing the Warden to give her a menacing look. A minute later, Dever slammed the phone down on the table.

"Is this amusing to you Ms. Stewart?"

"Not at all." She took another long sip. They both quickly turned their heads as Timmons fell back into the restaurant and landed in the seat next to them at the table.

"He's gone."

"Of course he is. You are a mess Timmons." Timmons began brushing off his shirt with his hands and wiping at the scuffs on his face, but it wasn't doing any good. Dever kept shaking his head and staring at his phone.

Jackson smiled as he twirled the tortellini on his fork and raised his Diet Coke. He took another long sip smiling so broadly that the couple seated at the next table eyed him curiously. He couldn't believe it they had pulled it off, and he had watched the whole thing. He was just curious who the guy was that came in and spoke with Michelle and then took out both Dever and the other guy. It was impressive, but it made him somewhat apprehensive. He had known right away when Michelle had suggested they meet at The Candlelight that it was a setup because they vowed to never set foot in there again together. It had been there regular Saturday night date night place to go until they had experienced a bad argument that left them both so upset, they decided to never go again. They chose to instead go to Tuscany's, where he was seated now eating dinner with his wife seated directly across the street. Despite being apart, he knew they were really together. They were even timing their bites and drinks together. He had really enjoyed her toast when she lifted the wine glass. If only the Warden knew. He almost felt like laughing, but he knew there was still much more to be done before that happened. He had watched the man exit the restaurant and quickly vanish into the crowd like he was a ghost. The Warden's man had followed him for a second and then he just disappeared causing the man to give up and head back inside the restaurant. Jackson watched as the Warden and the other man sat beside Michelle who continued to eat and ignore their desperate please. She looked so beautiful seated there as the faint candle lights flickered across her face. He wished he could reach out and touch her with his hands, instead of just his mind, but for now it was enough and he continued to smile throughout the rest of his meal. They both finished at the same time. He watched as the Warden and the other man quickly rose up leaving Michelle all alone at the table. When both of their backs were to her she looked over and gave him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. He smiled back and then wiped a tear from his eye as the two large men ushered his wife towards the door. He watched them exit the restaurant. Timmons stayed with Michelle and walked towards the parking lot, while the Warden went the other way behind the restaurant, probably to his parked car. Jackson ordered a piece of cheesecake as he watched the Ford slowly drive by with Michelle and the Warden's man. He took his time enjoying the cheesecake fully aware that someone was bound to be waiting for him when he exited the restaurant, he just wasn't sure who.

Chapter 30

Dever slammed the transmission into drive and pulled out from behind the Candlelight and onto Sycamore Street. He quickly scanned the area looking for anyone that resembled Stewart or the guy that showed up at Michelle's table. It wasn't until he and Timmons had been struck and pushed onto the floor, that he realized it wasn't Stewart. The guy had been so quick and strong leaving them almost defenseless. He still wasn't sure who he was and the only thing he could get out of Mrs. Stewart was that he had mumbled something she couldn't understand. He wasn't really sure if he believed her, but he had nothing else to go on. Timmons said he would work on her on the drive back to her house, but he doubted they would get anything else. He was still sure Stewart had come by and somehow was tipped off. He wasn't sure if Mrs. Stewart was involved or it had to do with the guy that mysteriously showed up. He was going to re-read the emails again they had sent each other earlier. He had never felt as defeated as he pulled onto the highway. He called his wife and let her know he was still working and probably wouldn't be home for a celebration dinner tomorrow. She seemed to understand, but he didn't. How did he keep being outwitted by a criminal...his criminal? He wanted him so much back in his control. He would do anything to get him back and he wasn't about to stop now or ever, no matter what it takes. He knew he eventually had to get back to administering the Conduit, but this was the priority. What would the other inmates think of him if he let one get away? How many more would try? He sped up switching into the left lane. He missed his Corvette. He passed a large truck going too slow and cursed out the window as he flew by him. He quickly slowed down hearing his phone ring. It was the damn Governor again.

"Hello Dever. I need an update. People are freaking out down here."

"We're still on him Sir. We had a plan tonight to lure him in but he somehow got tipped off. We'll get him. I promise."

"How much longer? What do you want me to say? How many more times can he elude you?"

"I can't tell you that Sir, but I can tell you we are close."

"Close isn't good enough. I've got an election coming up as you know. This doesn't look good. CNN is broadcasting that he's going around assaulting police officers and possibly might be involved in additional murders." He could hear him take a deep breath. "And this is looking like it's our fault, like we're incompetent. The press is camped out in front of my place and The Conduit."

"I understand Sir. We are doing everything we possibly can."

"Why aren't the Marshalls with you? Shouldn't they be the ones finding them?"

"They are working on it too Sir."

"Well, we need to work harder right?"

Dever took a long deep breath and pulled off onto the Stewart's street. He could already see the Ford in the driveway. "Yes Sir," Dever uttered into the phone but the line was already dead. He slammed the phone onto seat and screeched into the driveway with sweat pouring out his pores. He wasn't used to getting talked to that way. He had always been in charge. In the Academy, he was always one of the cadet leaders. He excelled in every aspect of the Marines, always taking every leadership position. In fact, most senior officers were always so intimidated by him they usually took a back step as he quickly rose up the ranks. He stormed out of the car and entered the Stewart house. Timmons and the two police officers were seated at the kitchen table, while Dever could hear Mrs. Stewart talking to the babysitter in the other room. He leaned against the wall near the stove. Timmons nodded at him. Dever looked away. A minute later, Mrs. Stewart and another lady similar in age walked past them and out the door. He listened to Mrs. Stewart thank her several times. He was quickly losing his patience.

"So are you ready to talk?" Dever barked out.

"Let me place her down first." Dever looked at Stephanie in her arms, her eyes half shut. He just nodded and sat down next to Timmons. Michelle quickly walked upstairs and placed Stephanie down, opened the drawer in the file cabinet and pulled out the SITA file. She stared into the eyes of Braymond.

Jackson paid the waitress and slowly exited out of Tuscany's. It was after 10:00 PM, but he still feared the Warden or one of his men would be out here waiting. He looked towards the window Michelle had been sitting behind just about an hour ago. He missed her so much. He wasn't really sure where he was heading to, but he needed a new plan. He figured maybe he needed to leave the area for a while like he had originally intended to and wait until things cooled down. He just needed to figure out how. He casually walked down Sycamore towards the end of the street where it met a busy thoroughfare and figured he would be able to get a cab easier down at this end. There were still lots of people all about and he carefully examined each face and body movement looking for any obscure or immediate action that was different from anyone else. He stopped in front of a man dressed up as a clown. He didn't look like any circus clown he had ever seen, but he was still a clown. There were about twenty or so people gathered around, so he blended in towards the middle and watched the clown attempt a slapstick routine. It was failing miserably, but it was still somewhat entertaining. Jackson used this opportunity to scan the area behind and in front of him and everything still appeared normal. He continued to watch the clown and applauded at the appropriate times along with the others. At the end of the performance, he even threw a dollar into the small bucket the clown was carrying around. He remained in place until almost everyone was gone and then he continued walking towards the main road. He stopped for a few more acts along the way. There were two teenagers banging on various garbage can lids and an elderly man horribly singing Sinatra tunes that was generating more laughs than applause, but he watched anyway. A minute later, he saw two police officers slowly walking his way, so he ducked into an ice cream shop near the end of Sycamore. It was a famous place and was crowded as usual. Jackson ended up waiting in line and purchasing an ice cream cone because the officers remained outside the door for some reason. They didn't appear to be interested in him; they were just watching the crowd, but they were stationed right outside the door. He found a stool near the back where he could observe them. Finally, a half hour later the two officers moved on. Jackson slowly stepped out of the shop and began walking towards the cabs when he saw a familiar face. It was the same guy from the hotel. He was walking directly towards him and coming fast. Jackson quickly looked behind him and didn't see the police so he turned around and began walking quickly back into Sycamore. He kept peering over his shoulder and saw the man was still coming. He realized now it was the same guy who had entered the Candlelight and had sat next to Michelle. He felt a chill drop down his spine. He kept moving but he wasn't sure what to do. He couldn't let anything happen to Stephanie or Michelle. What if he had threatened them? He kept walking quickly until he saw the backs of the uniforms of the two police officers in front of him...he was cornered. He wasn't sure what to do until he felt the muzzle in his back. It was too late the man had him. He looked into his green eyes; recognizing him immediately and nodded as the man carefully led him away from the police officers. Jackson took another long look behind him, but they were going the other way and were paying no attention. He wasn't sure if he should be happy or worried. He continued walking back towards the main road with the gun being pushed hard into his side.

"I know you don't want them to come unless you want to go back to jail." Jackson listened to the familiar voice. "Pretty slick having your pretty wife right across the street like that. Stupid warden had no idea."

"Look...please stay away from my family. They have nothing to do with this."

"That's where you are wrong they have everything to do with this."

Jackson felt the muzzle being pushed a little harder into his side. "Please just tell me what you want."

"You know what I want. I want the money."

"I told you I don't have any money." The man led him around a couple pushing a baby in a carriage.

'Then I'll have to take your little family till I get my money."

"Leave them alone."

"I will once I get the money."

"There is no money...I told you."

"I won't forget what you did to my face too. That wasn't cool throwing hot water on me." Jackson leaned forward a little to ease the pain from the muzzle. "Don't even think about it. I'll blast you right here."

"I'm sorry about that, but I needed to get out of there."

"When are you going to realize Stewart I own you till I get my money. I can send you back to that hellhole you came out of any time. I know where you are at all times. I watched you fall asleep in that hotel bar the other night. I could have told the warden at any time." Jackson felt the gun go in deeper. "So either start listening or you'll be wishing you could go back to the Conduit...by the way how do you think you got that Rolyphenol so easily." Jackson quickly turned his head in the direction of the man's. "Yes, that's right. I was watching you in prison too and in your escape."

"How did you...?"

"I have my ways...now are you starting to get the point?" Jackson shook his head. "Remember the airport? Do you really think you could outrun a whole team of police officers with that bad leg?" Jackson couldn't believe what he was hearing. He kept walking towards busy street and looked over at the ice cream shop he had been in a few moments ago. It was still busy. A minute later, he was shoved into the front passenger seat of a Toyota SUV.

Chapter 31

Michelle softly closed the door to Stephanie's room and slowly walked back downstairs. She still wasn't used to having the officers present in the house. She walked into the kitchen and saw the Warden, his assistant and the officers in a heated discussion on how Jackson had beaten them again. The officers were arguing that the Warden needed to let them find him and he should go back to the prison, while he was saying he wasn't leaving till he got his prisoner. Michelle poured a cup of coffee and quickly exited the kitchen and went back to the family room. She no longer turned on the TV, she was afraid of seeing another reporter talking about Jackson assaulting a police officer. The last time she saw the news they were showing footage from the McDonald's cameras. She knew he didn't get hurt, but it still showed him assaulting him. She quietly smiled thinking of their dinner together earlier. Jackson had caught on so masterfully. She knew he was still firing on all connections. She took a long sip of the steaming coffee and stared at the last family picture together. They were all so happy. Jackson had the biggest smile of all. He was holding Stephanie in one arm and the other was around her. She looked deeply into his eyes and started wondering if she really knew him. She kept replaying him pushing the police officer in her mind. She started to shudder looking closely at another picture of Stephanie on the end table. It was her latest school picture. She looked so much like Jackson. She had mailed him a copy the day Stephanie had brought it home. Jackson said he carried it with him everywhere he went and she believed him. She knew she was tired, even exhausted. She hadn't slept more than a few hours since he had escaped. She focused back on his face in the picture and thought back to their time together. There were the usual arguments, but nothing serious and he had never laid a hand on her. He just wasn't the type. He would hold and caress Stephanie for hours. He even held her all night when she wouldn't sleep...Mrs. Stewart...Mrs. Stewart." She quickly snapped her head towards the voice it was the Warden.

"Are you ready to talk ma'am?" She nodded as the Warden sat down across from her. He looked so frustrated and worn out at the same time. She knew he was just doing his job, but she was very uncomfortable having him here. She closed her eyes and wished everything would just go away. "So tell me about this guy again? Who is he and what did he say?"

"Like I told you before, he just mumbled something. I couldn't even hear him. It was so weird."

"He had to say more than that. There's something you're not telling us here. No one else knew about that meeting except for you, me, Timmons and your husband." The Warden shook his head. 'You expect me just to believe that some guy just showed up out of the blue and sat down next to you and mumbled something."

Michelle nodded her head. "That's all he said. I don't know who he was."

The Warden looked down and slowly pulled out his phone. "I'm telling you ma'am you need me on your side. I promised you I'll bring him back safely, but you have to help me out here. You can't keep things from me thinking you're helping him."

"I'm telling you everything I know."

"Any ideas why your husband didn't show up then?"

Michelle looked back at the family picture. "No...I don't know why he didn't show."

The Warden slowly stood up. "I don't know what you're hiding but your only hurting your husband, so when you're ready to talk call me. You have my card. Let's go Timmons." Michelle watched him leave the family room and head back into the kitchen. A minute later, she heard the door slam and a car engine start up. She quickly ran back upstairs and sat in front of the filing cabinet staring at the picture.

Chapter 32

Jackson watched the man carefully out of the corner of his eye. He had a dark hood pulled down low covering the top half of his face and dark glasses covering his eyes making it difficult to really get a good look at him, but he could see the dark red splotches on his cheeks from the hot water at the hotel. Neither of them had their seatbelts on, but Jackson could see the gun in the man's right hand. He was clutching it tightly and watching Jackson out of the corner of his eye.

"Don't try anything stupid Stewart or I'll pull the trigger...I promise." Jackson turned back towards the window. He wasn't sure where they were headed, but they were traveling very slowly and he wasn't sure why. If he wanted to blend in he wasn't doing a very good job. The man appeared much bigger than he had before, but Jackson had been a little woozy then with the head bashing, He could definitely tell he worked out in a gym and probably took some kind of supplements. He had read all about them on the prison library computers. In fact, he had read about almost everything. He loved the Internet and how far it had come since he was a free man. You could find anything, and he did. His whole escape plan came from the Internet and even though some things had gone off script a little, and he was being held hostage in a car with a crazy man, instead of behind bars, he still liked these circumstances better. There wasn't much traffic tonight, despite being a Friday and nice weather. Jackson turned back towards the window and watched the houses slowly pass by. He thought of Stephanie and Michelle probably back home safe and sound in their house. He was so close. He had to do something. It was bad enough to have the Warden trying to bring him back, but there was no way he was going to let this guy take him down. He closed his eyes and tried to think of something. There had to be something he could do. A minute later, he felt the vehicle slow down even more. They were turning off onto an exit. Jackson watched as he steered the SUV to the right and then surprisingly sped up. They were in some kind of residential neighborhood. He didn't recognize it. The houses looked to be mostly typical ramblers from the early sixties and seventies. Northern Virginia was full of them. A minute later, the car jolted and stopped in front of a small one-floor home set far back from the road. They pulled into the driveway and Jackson watched as the man pushed a button on a garage door opener above him that he hadn't noticed before. The door slowly opened and the car made its way into the dark garage. Neither of them moved as the man pushed the button and door slowly made its way back down. The car was still turned on.

"You ready...Stewart?" Jackson nodded his head. 'Let's go. I'm going to turn the engine off then come get you. Try anything and I swear I'll pop you and then go do the same to your little family." Jackson sat still as he watched the man turn the ignition and remove the key. He slowly exited the car and made his way around to Jackson's side. A few seconds later, he pulled the door open. "Get out nice and slowly then walk towards that door." Jackson looked toward the far wall of the single car garage and could barely see a small door through the dim light. He slowly walked towards it aware of the steel barrel a few inches from his head. He hated guns. Just the sight of them usually made him nervous. There were just so many ways they could hurt you. He knew all it took was one slight movement of the man's finger and his life would be over. Jackson felt the sweat making its way down his forehead. He grabbed the knob and slowly twisted it open and stepped into a dark tangy smelling room. He needed a plan. He hated not knowing what to do. He felt the muzzle jam into the back of his neck as he kept walking forward and was pushed onto a couch covered in knit blankets.

"Now stay there. Don't get up." Jackson pushed down onto the flimsy couch and watched the man walk to the other side of the room and flick a light switch. A second later, the room was full of light and Jackson could see a dingy furnished home full of what looked like heavily used thrift store furniture. He was seated in the small living room and off to the far side was a dining room with a circular glass table with a large crack running through it leading to a tiny kitchen. "Now you see where I have been living the last five years. I really need you to tell me where that money is."

"I told you I don't know anything about any money. All I did was what you asked. I disabled the security system and left."

"Stewart, I saw you enter the building. I was there. I was also at your trial."

Jackson looked across from him at two closed doors. He assumed they were bedrooms. "Who are you really?"

"You know who I am. Remember our meeting at the Sheraton before you did the job."

"I thought you were a legitimate employer. I did what you asked."

"That you did. You also did more. You shot the security guard and stole twenty million dollars that I want, and I'm going to get." He looked towards one of the closed doors. "And I will get. Today is Friday, and I guarantee I will have my money by Sunday." Jackson looked down and shook his head. A few minutes later, he was tied to the couch with thick rope. He watched as the man turned off the light switch and disappeared behind one of the doors. Jackson lay there on his back unable to move. The binds were tight on his arms and legs, but at least he could still stretch out. He tried to maneuver his arms to see if he could get out but he gave up after about ten minutes and closed his eyes. He knew he was going to need every ounce of energy he had to survive this weekend. What seemed like five minutes later, Jackson woke up suddenly to a sharp pain on his leg near his ankle.

"What are you doing?" He yelled.

"Getting my money." Jackson could see him holding a small knife. He was jamming it repeatedly into the small hollow space right above his ankle. Jackson screamed out on pain. "You ready to talk now?" Jackson turned his head away and grimaced as he felt another jab and feeling of warm blood oozing down his leg. He had to do something. The man repeated this procedure two more times then quickly left. "I'll be back in two hours. Call me if you're ready to talk. Next we'll work on the other leg." Jackson closed his eyes as hard as he could to try and diminish the pain, but it wasn't helping any. He couldn't imagine going through that again. He looked at the digital clock on the VCR under the large CRT TV, it read 2:00 AM. He had until 4:00. He tried to press his ankle against the fabric of the couch to slow the blood flow, but he couldn't tell if it was working or not because he couldn't raise his head high enough. He finally fell back to sleep or passed out because of the pain. He wasn't sure.

Chapter 33

Dever woke up feeling rejuvenated and ready for action. He immediately dressed and completed a forty-five-minute workout in the exercise room and then showered and dressed and banged on Timmons door. Timmons groggily opened the door and immediately headed for the bathroom. A minute later, Dever could hear the shower running. He never understood how people could sleep late in the morning. The start of the day was when a person should be up and ready. He lived by the expression that the military got more done by 9:00 AM than most people did all day, and he was living proof of that. He was known for getting his men up at 3:00 or 4:00 AM on any given day and demand they go for a ten mile run. He missed his time in the Marines. He would have stayed longer, but they forced him out, something about too much time in rank. He didn't buy it but he finally gave in and immediately joined the Bureau of Prisons and decided to take the job in North Carolina, the home state of his favorite base, Camp Lejeune. He watched as Timmons finally opened the bathroom door and exited towards him. His hair was still wet, and he smelled of powerful soap and shampoo. Dever always believed soap and shampoo would give away their position in the field, so he always made sure his Marines only used small amounts of it. He loved to tell his men if the enemy can't see you, they can either hear you or smell you.

"Let's go Timmons. Today is the day we bring Stewart back home. This has gone on long enough." He knew the Governor was going to call again real soon. It was just how he was. He had to bring back his prisoner soon. It was killing him. Timmons nodded his head and pulled the hotel door shut behind them while trying to keep up with Dever who was walking quickly toward the elevator bank. "I don't believe anything his wife said. She is hiding something about her husband. I think that whole thing last night was a setup to make us look stupid. They are playing with us Timmons."

"What about the guy who showed up?"

"I think he's part of the plan too, probably in on the whole thing. We need to find out who he is and what his role is in helping the Stewarts." Dever forcibly pushed the down button. "I know Stewart was there last night. Probably standing right outside laughing at us the whole time, then they sent that idiot in there to distract us."

"He had some skills Warden."

"He caught us off-guard. We didn't expect that. He could pick up martial arts skills at any local studio for a couple hundred bucks. I guarantee when we see him again, he won't get away this time. I intend on taking him down too." Timmons nodded as they walked past the lobby towards the parking lot. "Let's go to the Stewart's first. I want to talk to Mrs. Stewart again and see if she has come to her senses yet. We need to apply some pressure."

"Like what Sir?"

"Like threaten her with aiding and abetting. This has got to stop. I want you to send up Baker and Jenkins too."

"Can they spare them down there? We're running low on staff already. The Marshalls should be arriving here soon."

"You let me worry about the Marshalls and the low staff numbers. We need all the resources we can get to bring Stewart back. He's making us look like buffoons, and I don't like buffoons Timmons." Dever quickly sat down in the passenger seat and slammed his seatbelt into the clip. "Here's what we're going to do. First, we're going to get her to admit she played us last night, and then she will tell us where Stewart is; otherwise we're bringing her in."

"We can't just bring her in. We need proof." Dever kept his eyes out the window as everything blurred by. A minute later, his cell phone began to ring. He didn't recognize the number but he answered anyway.

"Warden Dever. This is Special Agent Mitchell from the U.S. Marshalls. We need to get together and talk." Dever slammed his foot against the floor causing Timmons to snap his head quickly in his direction. "I'm right down the road from you. How about we meet at the IHOP across the street from the Sheraton that we're both staying in?"

"We're kind of busy right now. Can we meet later?"

"Unfortunately, we can't. I have some information I need to share with you." Dever didn't like his voice. It was New England, not Boston, but close. "We'll see you there in about a half hour....sound good?" Dever hated being talked to this way, but he reluctantly agreed. "I'll be there with Agent Reilly. We'll be in the back by ourselves. You won't miss us."

"I'm sure we won't," He mumbled.

"What was that Warden?"

"Nothing." He hung up the phone and directed Timmons back towards the hotel. A half hour later they entered the IHOP and pointed the hostess towards the two men in suits seated near the back. Dever immediately recognized Mitchell right away. He was thirty something and well-built. His hand felt like a giant claw when he shook it. Reilly was slimmer and at least ten years older. He had a much softer personality and demeanor. Dever knew immediately who he was going to try and exploit. They quickly shook hands and were seated. Everyone ordered food except for Dever. He just drank coffee with Sweet and Low.

Mitchell spoke first. "Thank you for meeting with us. I know you want to bring back your man and so do we, so let's work together on this." Dever grunted. It wasn't that he didn't like Mitchell, He seemed like an adapt Agent. He just wanted to bring Stewart back himself. He watched Timmons and Reilly speak to each other. He couldn't hear what they were saying, and he didn't really care.

"So what do you have to tell us?" Dever took another sip.

"I'll get to that. I just want to say we have done as I presume you have and traced him back here. We have followed all his tracks and know he's in the vicinity. We're ready to get him. I have two teams standing by ten minutes from here ready to spring as soon as I tell them." Dever watched him brush his shortly cropped hair with his hand. He was a handsome guy with light brown hair. He looked like he was probably a quarterback in college or at least high school. Definitely the jock type, though he didn't think he had served any time in the military, and he wasn't going to ask. "Where do you suspect he is right now?"

Dever looked at Timmons and Reilly. They both stopped talking and were looking at him. "I think he is hiding out with a friend or staying in some rat-hole motel around here just waiting for his opportunity."

"We've checked all the motels and as far as we can tell he has no acquaintances in the area which is why I have asked you to come here. We think we may have something." Dever watched Mitchell reach under the table and pull out an iPad. He turned it toward Dever and Timmons. When Dever saw the screen he almost choked on his coffee.

Chapter 34

Jackson woke up at 3:56 AM. He had four minutes until the torture started again. His ankle was still in excruciating pain and he couldn't imagine having the same thing happen to the other one. It was still hurting from the metro track accident. He wasn't sure he could handle more pain to it. He closed his eyes and tried to slow the clock down with his mind, but with each passing moment the tension was growing. He thought about Stephanie and Michelle and how much he wanted to be with them. He had already been through so much these last few days, so much more than he ever imagined and there was nothing that was going to stop him now. He felt his ankle began to throb. It ached so much. He pressed it against the couch to try and ease the pain. He couldn't tell if it was still bleeding or not because of the lack of light, but it did still feel damp. He couldn't imagine what it looked like, 3:58, two minutes to go. He tried to move his arms and legs again to free himself, but the binds weren't budging. After much pain and distress to his ankle, he finally gave up and waited for the torture. Sure enough, as soon as the clock turned to 4:00 AM, he heard movement in one of the rooms and a light cast its shadow from underneath the door. A moment later, he cringed when the door opened and he saw the man stumble out towards him. He flicked on the light switch temporarily blinding Jackson for a moment. When he finally opened his eyes and was able to focus, he could see the man standing next to him. He was wearing an old t-shirt tightly forming over his muscled chest as well as pair of old sweat-pants covering his legs. Jackson could already feel the pain when he saw the knife in the man's hand.

"Okay...are you going to tell me or do I have to cut up the other one too?" Jackson watched him lean over his legs. "Wow...the other one looks pretty bad. I didn't realize I went in that deep." Jackson closed his eyes as the man touched the area near the wound. "It looks like it might heal though...probably should have gotten stitches. Maybe I can do that next time if you decide not to tell me where my money is." He flipped the knife back in forth in his hands. "Please tell me. I don't like the sight of blood this early in the morning, it may cause me not to go right back to sleep at least till six, that's the next time...remember I've got all day." He walked back towards Jackson's face.

"So what's it going to be?"

Jackson closed his eyes and thought about his ankle again. He grimaced. "Give me a minute."

"A minute it is. That gives me time to get my hand warmed up."

He couldn't do it again. "All right fine...I'll tell you."

"I knew it. Not as tough as you think you are huh?"

"I guess not." The man sat down on the edge of the coffee table. "Just please let me treat my ankle and I'll tell you."

"No dice. We already played that game in the motel and look what happened." He touched his face. Jackson could still see the red patches. "I get my money and you can do whatever you want. I could care less. I'll untie you and you can walk out of here...or at least, you can try." He looked at Jackson's ankle. "So the answer is no, I'm not untying you or anything...so don't get any ideas about any tricks. Tell me where the money is or I'll work on the other ankle and then when I'm done with you, I'll start on your family." Jackson shook his head. "You touch my family; I'll kill you."

The man quietly laughed. "Kind of hard to do that when you're tied up isn't it. So what's it going to be? Where's my money?"

Jackson closed his eyes again. "It's buried."

His eyes lit up. "Buried...where?"

"In a box on an abandoned farm near my house."

"I need more than that."

"I'll have to show you. It's kind of in the woods." He watched the man stand up and walk to the other side of the room then he returned.

"Any tricks and I promise I'll kill you and you're family." Jackson nodded. "Okay let's go." Jackson watched as he left and entered into the closed room again. He returned about five minutes later with the same gun in hand. "I'm going to cut your legs free but leave your arms tied together." Jackson felt the knife cut through the rope tied between his feet. He couldn't believe how much his ankle hurt once the rope broke free. He tried to move his foot but the pain was too much. "Let's go."

Jackson slowly sat up careful not to move his leg. "I'm trying."

"We need to go. Sooner I get my money the sooner you can go."

He finally sat all the way up and placed his feet off the side of the couch. His hands were still tied in front of him. He slowly tried to stand up without putting any pressure on his ankle, but without the use of his hands it was almost impossible. He suddenly felt himself being lifted up by the man. Jackson was standing up, but only on one foot. As soon as he put pressure on the other one the pain was too much and he started to fall over. He couldn't walk. He couldn't believe it. How could someone do that to him and why did he let it happen. He looked down at his ankle, it was a nasty crimson color and swollen almost twice the size of his other one. He cringed,

"This isn't going to work. You've got to tell me where to go." The man pushed him back down on the couch.

Jackson looked over at the clock. Fifteen minutes had passed. It felt like an eternity. "I told you it's at the abandoned farm and its buried right inside the stable in the first stall in the back right corner."

"You better not be lying Stewart. Now show me on this map where the farm is." Jackson pointed at a small piece of property he hoped was still there located two streets over from his house. "I'll be back and if it's not there, I'll finish off the other one." Jackson slowly lay back down and saw everything turn to black when the man kicked him in his ankle. It felt like a lot longer when he finally came to, but the clock said it was only 4:45 AM. He wasn't tied down anymore and he knew he couldn't waste this chance. He gave every effort of his body and tried to stand up and walk but the pain was too much so he quickly sat back down. He saw the phone across the room and knew he had no choice. He painstakingly crawled across the room and dialed three numbers. Ten minutes later, he was being loaded into the back of an ambulance under the name of Braymond Reynolds. Several hours later, and many convincingly explanations to the ER physicians why they shouldn't call the police, he was leaving the emergency room with crutches and several prescriptions for pain and antibiotics. He signaled the first cab he could find and was on his way.

Chapter 35

Dever knew right away when he saw the image that he had been duped. There was Stewart seated right in the window at the restaurant directly across the street from the Candlelight. He felt like screaming right there in the restaurant, but instead he calmly forced his eyes away from the iPad and took a long hot sip of coffee finishing the rest of the mug. A minute later, the waitress filled it up again. He was seething inside so much so that he had to take several long deep breaths before he could speak again. He looked directly at Agent Mitchell. "So tell me why you didn't pick him up if you had him in your sights?"

"We tried. Lord knows we did. We had a team waiting for him outside the restaurant, but as soon as they got into positon to grab him some guy came by and took him right out from under him. This guy was amazing. It was like he was...superman or something."

"Wearing a hoodie and hat right?"

"Yes Warden he was the same guy that came in to The Candlelight and spoke with Mrs. Stewart."

Dever looked over at Timmons. "So you were watching us too?"

Mitchell shook his head. "No, we had no idea you were even around till we saw you guys come out of the restaurant then everything quickly got out of control. I think Mr. and Mrs. Stewart are playing some kind of little game." Mitchell took another bite of his eggs and swallowed. "In fact, we even saw them toast each other through the windows." Dever slammed his foot onto the floor so hard it almost spilled the drinks on the table.

"I still don't understand why you didn't grab him in the restaurant if you knew he was there."

"We wanted to make sure he wasn't on to us, we had a team right outside and then Agent Reilly and I were right down the road watching everything and that's when we saw our mystery man grab Stewart."

"You couldn't stop him?"

"With all due respect Warden...neither did you. I saw what he did to you two. You both ended up on the floor. Look, he played the crowds right into his hands and got Stewart into the car with him. We tried to follow him but they were too far ahead."

Dever nodded in agreement. "So you're saying he was forced into the car?"

"That's what it looked like to us. I think he may have had a gun on him."

"This makes no sense at all anymore. I think we need to go see Mrs. Stewart right now." Dever quickly stood up. "Let's go Timmons." Dever threw a twenty on the table and stormed out towards the door. He heard Agent Mitchell tell him they would be by shortly. He waved and headed outside to the car. A minute later, Timmons turned the key and they headed to the Stewarts. They pulled into the driveway and saw two police officers get into the cruiser in the driveway.

Dever jumped out of the car. "Where are you guys going? You can't leave them alone...not now."

The tall officer quickly stepped back out of the car recognizing Dever and walked over to the car. "They are officially gone and out of our hands. The Captain said for us to head back."

"What do you mean gone? Dever looked all around the property. A minute later, Timmons was standing beside him.

"You know...the Marshall came and got them. Told them they had to go with him. I checked his credentials. They were legit. He said they were moving them to a safe house and you and the Captain had approved it."

"I didn't okay a damn thing. Timmons get Mitchell on the phone." Timmons began fumbling though his pockets.

"How long ago did they leave?"

"Not long, maybe fifteen minutes tops." He looked at Timmons who hung up his phone. "What did he say?"

"They'll be here in about two minutes. They are right up the road."

Dever had the officers stand by as he watched the Government vehicle pull in behind his car. Dever stormed towards them. He knew he should calm down first but right now he didn't care. "How could you do this to us? We were just with you. You didn't have the decency to tell us you were moving his family. Now we'll never catch him. At least before we knew he would eventually come back here. Now there's no way of knowing where he'll go. Damn!"

Mitchell held up his index finger and looked back at Reilly who was still seated in the car talking on the phone. A few seconds later, he exited the vehicle and stood next to Mitchell. "What did you get?"

Reilly looked oddly at Mitchell first who then nodded. "We didn't pick them up. It wasn't a Marshall that came by here." Dever looked directly at the two policemen.

The tall one stepped forward. "It was a Marshall. He had US Marshall Credentials. We even wrote down his name." They watched him pull out a small notebook. "Stephen Adams."

"Hold on." Mitchell pulled out his cell phone and begin dialing. A minute later, he hung up. "We don't have a Stephen Adams or any name even close to that in the Marshalls...you were scammed."

Chapter 36

Jackson hobbled out of the cab leaning heavily on his crutches and paid the motel clerk, a young man the money for the night. He was staying in a small motel area a few towns over in Arlington. He hoped he was far enough away to not cause any suspicion because he needed some time to recuperate. He still couldn't believe he convinced the emergency room that he was Braymond Reynolds, but it worked. They even agreed to send him the bill since he said he left his wallet back home during all the trauma and chaos. He had told the doctors that he was trying to fix a recurring pain in his ankle, and he got carried away with a knife. They didn't believe him at first, until he told them he had recently returned from combat. Then they were ready to commit him, but he convinced otherwise. He had been surprised it had worked and when he walked out the door, he didn't look back. He was happy to enter his room. He was on the ground floor facing the back. He was in need of some deep rest. He immediately took two more painkillers and instantly felt the numbness and drowsiness kick in. It was a good feeling. He made it to the bed and threw both legs under the covers and the next thing he knew he was out like he had never slept before. Sometime later, he quickly jumped up hearing scuffling outside the door. He could see the sunlight creeping through the large bay window filling up the room. He started to instinctively move, but quickly gasped when the pain set in on his ankle. A minute later, the door quickly opened and a young woman entered. Jackson caught his breath and waved. He had never felt so defenseless in his life. His ankle was stiff and painful. He watched as the woman quickly turned around and started to head back out the door. He yelled for her to return.

"Please ma'am can you help me for a second." He pointed at the crutches on the floor next to the bed. She continued to back out and then slowly turned back around and hesitantly entered the room.

"Sir... I can come back another time to clean the room." She had a fresh sweet face full of friendliness. She was probably around thirty-five.

"I just need a little help getting to my feet, and then I'll be fine." She looked at him oddly with trepidation. "Please...then you can clean the room." She nodded and handed him the crutches as he slowly tried to sit all the way up. "Thanks." He finally got the sheets up, and he saw the look of horror on her face when she saw the bandage. The blood soaked through during the night making his bandage almost completely red. Luckily, the ER had given him several spare ones that he had placed on a small table across the room.

"Let me help you." She walked towards the bed and helped him to his feet. Gone were any signs of nervousness. "I used to work in the medical field, so I can help you if you need anything."

Jackson shook his head sideways. "I'll be okay. I just need to go change the bandage and take some of these." He held up the bottle of pills. "If you want to clean the room, I'll be in here for a while getting cleaned up. I'll probably be here for a few days." He started to walk towards the table, but she immediately held him up and handed him the bandages. He tucked them under his arms, smiled and walked into the bathroom closing the door behind him. A few minutes later, he had the bandage off and he could hear a vacuum running in the other part of the room. He cleaned up and placed a new bandage on. It wasn't perfect, but it did the job. He made his way back out to the room. His ankle didn't feel too bad with the painkillers pumping through his veins, but it was sore and he had to go slow. He made his way out the door and walked to the office and paid another night. The clerk let him know there was a diner a little ways down the road. Jackson looked at the crutches and then his ankle and decided it was worth it. A minute later, he was walking down the shoulder headed for the diner. The eggs and coffee never tasted so good. He had forgotten how much better the food was on the outside. In prison, he had the same thing every day, soggy pancakes with no syrup. After about a year or so, he just threw them down his throat with a drink of stale water. He savored each bite of the scrambled eggs and took his time. No one seemed to be paying attention to him. In the corner, a TV had the news on it and there was no mention of him making him feel safe. He quickly turned his head seeing the same motel housekeeper enter and place and order to go. She didn't look in his direction so he didn't bother her, but he watched her take two cups of coffee and a small bag full of bagels and pastries back outside; probably something she did every day he figured. He couldn't wait to get back into a daily routine. He hadn't had a normal day since he left The Conduit. Everything had been exactly the same for five years, and now not only every day was different, but also every minute. He took another bite until he saw a policeman enter the diner and slowly look around. There was no chance of escape. If he spotted him he was caught. He couldn't outrun anything. Jackson quickly looked down and away from the officer. He couldn't tell if he was looking at him, but he could feel the weight on his nerves. The sweat begin running down his forehead, but he didn't dare move his arms to wipe it off. He just remained motionless focused on his food. He wished he had picked up a newspaper on the way in. He slowly nudged himself so he was facing away from the front of the diner. The officer would actually have to walk in front of his table to see him directly. He slowly took another bite and almost choked when he saw movement in front of his table. Someone was sitting next to him. He felt his heart beat out of control until he looked and couldn't believe the housekeeper was seated next to him. He slowly looked behind her and saw the policeman still standing near the front, but he wasn't looking his way.

"Hi...what are you doing here?"

"I saw you when I was leaving. I couldn't believe you walked here. How's your leg?"

Jackson looked down. "It hurts, but I'll live."

"If you don't mind my asking how did you do that?"

"Biking accident." He saw the officer turn in his direction again. He quickly turned his head causing the lady to look behind her and see the officer.

"If I didn't know any better, I think you're avoiding the policeman."

Jackson shook his head. "No he was just looking at me funny. I always act that way around cops. My dad was one." He wasn't comfortable at how easily he could now string out lies, but it was becoming easier and easier.

"How about I give you a ride back to the motel?"

Jackson looked down at his plate. He only ate about half. "I really appreciate it but I know you have to get back, and I'm going to be a little while longer."

"It's no problem. You're a customer of ours so if I didn't assist you I wouldn't be doing my job."

"I thought you were the housekeeper?" Jackson took another bite. The officer hadn't moved. He was still standing in the front leaning against the wall next to the door.

"I am, but I'm also the manager and the front clerk depending on what's going on."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the place is family owned...my family so we all do everything. It's just me and my sister who are left. Our parents started the place but they died a few years ago in a bad accident."

Jackson nodded. "I'm sorry. It seems like a nice place."

"It's not the Ritz, but we try and make it accommodating. We fill it up with mostly soldiers and Government employees coming and going to the Pentagon being we're right here." Jackson looked at the officer again and wondered why he wasn't leaving. "I'm sorry to impose on you like this, I just felt bad you walked all the way over here.

"No...no...I don't mind at all. In fact I enjoy having company. The last few days have been rough with all this." He pointed at his bandage.

"That's why I'm giving you a ride as soon as you're through." Jackson took a deep breath when her cell phone rang and she held up a finger and walked towards the front by the officer. He quickly looked down until she blocked his view. He thought about leaving out the back, but just then the lady hung up her phone said something to the officer and he quickly left. She walked back over to him and sat down again.

Sorry about that, that was my sister. She wanted to know where her omelet is...I told her I was helping a customer." She quietly laughed. "I also told that officer that we had some strange cars near the motel and that he should go check them out. You a little more relaxed now?" Jackson nodded. Five minutes later, he was seated in her Ford Explorer and they were headed for the motel. She dropped him off in front of his door and promised she would be back later to check on his bandage. Something about how she used to be a nurse. Jackson entered his room and called a cab.

Chapter 37

Jackson had the cab pull all the way through the gate and onto the farm. It was just as he had last seen it, abandoned and no unkempt. He laughed to himself thinking of the man digging up and not finding any money. It had worked to allow him to escape, but he knew if he ran into him again he was in trouble. He hopped back in the cab and decided to quickly drive by his house just to feel closer to Stephanie and Michelle. As soon as they pulled onto the top of the street something felt different, he could see his driveway but didn't see any police cars parked on it. He wondered why. He had the cab slowly drive down the road and by the house. There was nothing, no activity, not a single car or any sign that they were around. He had a weird feeling in his stomach as they pulled out of the neighborhood and headed back towards the motel. Jackson had the cab drop him off at the diner and he made his way back to the motel. He couldn't believe his ears when he entered his room and turned the TV on. They were saying he had kidnapped his family. He wasn't sure what was going on. He ignored the throbbing pain in his ankle and kept switching channels till he saw the Warden standing in front of a microphone. He wasn't giving all the details, but they were saying Jackson had posed as a law enforcement officer and took his family. The Warden was standing next to a US Marshall who was nodding his head in agreement with everything the Warden said. They kept showing his picture as well as Stephanie and Michelle's claiming they were in grave danger. He listened as the Marshall and a police chief were saying a massive manhunt was underway. Jackson threw the remote against the wall breaking it into hundreds of pieces when he realized who had taken his family. He couldn't believe he had let that happen. They were in danger and there was nothing he could do about it. It was entirely his fault. He looked down at the bandage on his ankle and screamed. Every minute that went by, he knew they were getting further and further away from him. He jumped at the knock at the door. He quietly slid off the bed and hopped on one foot to the door ready to pounce. He knew he would only have one chance at it. He started breathing again when he saw it was the housekeeping lady again. He slowly opened the door and watched her enter.

"What are you doing in here? It sounded like you were yelling. You need to rest that leg, or it's never going to get better." She placed her hand on his shoulder and softly guided him towards the bed where he reluctantly sat down. "Now let me take a look at that?" Jackson nodded.

"Let me guess...after your done housekeeping, managing and everything else you do around here you're also a doctor?"

"Nope...I used to be a nurse before my sister and I took over this place. It's been a few years, but I think I still remember a few things. Now put your leg up here." She pointed at the bottom of the bed. Jackson raised his leg, still seething with anger that his family was in danger. How could he let that happen? It was his fault. He was so mad he didn't even realize the bandage was off, and she was cleaning it. "Are you okay? I know it hurts."

"I'm fine. I'm just trying to distract myself."

"I understand. Are you sure this was done from a biking accident? Is there something you're not telling me here?" Jackson wanted to shout but he kept his cool and smiled. "It looks like you landed on a knife or something." She smiled.

"Something like that." He muttered.

"I'm almost done. Just hold still for another minute." He watched her wipe down the stitched area carefully with the medicated wipes the hospital had given him. She was careful not to press too hard. She seemed like a nice woman and he was thankful for her help, but he needed to get to Stephanie and Michelle. He couldn't believe that monster had them. He forced himself not to think about what he could do to them after what he did to his ankle. How could he let that happen? He was so stupid. "So tell me, what's your name?" She reached out her hand. "I'm Jessica, but everyone calls me Jessie."

Jackson snapped his mind back to the present and reached out and grasped her hand. She had smooth soft hands. "Charles." He instinctively responded.

"Nice to meet you Charles." He watched her finish attaching the bandage then quickly stand up. "Now Charles I want you to rest, and I'll be back later to get you some dinner."

"You don't have to do that."

"Call it room service." She quickly answered. Jackson watched her leave. She was dressed in jeans and a polo. Her brown hair was pulled back tightly behind her. She was attractive in a friendly kind of way. He slammed his foot down feeling the jolt of pain to remind himself of his awful mistake. He felt sick to his stomach and decided he needed to come with some kind of plan of action.

Dever stood back and watched Agent Mitchell describe the manhunt that they were forming to bring in Stewart. He wasn't happy that Mitchell was taking away some of his control, but he knew he needed all the help he could get at this point. He snarled at the Chief to his left. It was his officers who had let this happen. He had given the Chief some harsh words before the press conference that caused some friction, but he didn't care and he knew the Chief would get over it. He was a seasoned veteran just like himself. Mitchell answered questions about what kind of danger Stewart's family was in. He was describing how he was probably holed up somewhere with his wife and small child. He held up a picture of all three of them. Dever couldn't believe the amount of press that had gathered. It was a big story before, but now it was going viral. There were reporters from overseas as well. He recognized the call letters. He knew it was just a matter of time till someone spotted Jackson, and the tips had already started coming in. He knew most of them would lead to nothing, but each one had to be taken seriously so they wouldn't miss anything. The Chief had promised all his resources would be available as well as those from DC and the other nearby jurisdictions. Dever tried to put himself in Stewart's shoes again and wonder where he would go with his family in tow or against their will. He figured Mrs. Stewart would reluctantly go with him, but he wasn't so sure after the little stunt they had played at the restaurant. He quickly stepped forward in front of the mic and hot lights when a small Asian woman in the front row started asking if the rumors were true that Stewart had used drugs to subdue the prison guards. He immediately corrected the woman and let her know his men were referred to as correctional officers. He went briefly into the training and qualifications of all his officers. It was always a pet peeve of his when people used that term, and he used every available forum to correct it. Dever explained briefly that a drug was used by Stewart in prison to immobilize the officer, but he didn't give any more details. The woman began asking about how the drug was brought into the prison. Dever felt his temper begin to flare up as he contemplated his answer. He took a deep breath before answering and gave his standard answer that no contraband was allowed in the prison, and every available means was being used to stop it. He also explained that he would continue to monitor and figure out ways to stop anything else from entering his walls. The woman continued asking whether she thought Stewart had any more of the drug available. Dever had to give the answer that he didn't know for sure but he doubted Stewart had that big of a supply, though Dever was unsure. He looked towards the back of the room at a tall and muscular man in a too small suit who was trying to get his attention. They were in the Chief's cramped press room. It was way too small for the amount of people crammed into it and Dever couldn't wait till it was over. The Chief's PR man was not giving any indication of ending the conference anytime soon, so Dever pointed at the tall man.

"How was Jackson Stewart as a prisoner?" He had a loud booming voice that echoed off the walls of the small room.

Dever leaned into the mic. "He was a model prisoner. We housed him for five years and never had any problems. No infractions or write-ups as far as I know."

"Will you make his file available?"

"No, I don't think that is necessary."

"Is it true he had total access to all the computers and prison guard...I mean correctional officer's ones."

Dever frowned to himself. "No, he had the same access as every other prisoner. He was allowed to use the library computers for legal research, but there was no outside access."

"What about the staff computers?"

"Of course not...only the staff is allowed to use those." He knew he needed to find out what he was referring to. He looked around the room for someone else. He happily pointed at a small woman with bright-red hair seated in the middle. She looked to be in her late teens.

"Warden Dever, as a young woman like myself should I be scared?"

Dever looked at Mitchell and the Chief. "No, I don't think you should be scared, but I think you should be aware of your surroundings and if you see anything suspicious you should call us." He pointed at the pictures and Mitchell held them up again.

"Do you think he's still in the area?"

"I do and that is why we need everyone's help. If you see anyone that looks like him or his family, please call us right away." Dever felt the sweat forming on his brow.

Chapter 38

Jackson woke up to the soft knock on the door and knew right away it was Jessie. He was used to her soft ways. He stumbled to the door and confirmed his suspicion seeing her outside the tiny hole in the top of the door. He slowly opened the door and smiled feeling her strong hand guide him back towards the bed again.

"So how are we feeling?" He watched her set down a large bag on the dresser.

"Not bad." He slowly sat back down on the edge of the bed and looked at the clock and saw it was almost 6:00 PM. These painkillers were making him tired.

"I hope you got a lot of rest while I was gone. I brought you some dinner from your favorite restaurant." She reached back for the bag and Jackson noticed two large plastic soft drinks. He smiled. "Before you say anything, I'm working tonight at the front desk, so I have to be here anyway, so I need to eat, so I figured why not get my favorite guest some dinner too."

"Your favorite guest?"

"Of course. I told you we take care of our guests, and you are in need of care." He watched her look down at his bandage. "We'll change it again after we eat and I'm right down the hall if you need anything the rest of the night." Jackson saw her reach for the TV remote next to him. He quickly grabbed it before she got it. "What?"

"I just don't want to watch anything right now."

"No problem." She grunted out. Jackson could tell she was a little confused.

"It's just that I never watch TV when I eat, just a thing with me. I guess I like to enjoy the food and the company or something...I'm weird like that."

She smiled. She had a nice smile. It was like Michelle's...warm and friendly. He missed her so much. "I like that. I think I'll try doing that too. I'm guilty of watching TV while eating a microwaved cooked dinner." She placed the bag on the bed. "I hope you like cheeseburgers. Manny makes the best ones in town." She placed a wrapped burger in foil in front of Jackson. He felt his senses immediately awaken. He carefully un-wrapped the foil and watched as the thick steam and tasty aroma poured out and entered his system. He didn't realize how hungry he was. She passed him a small bag of fries that he immediately dug into as well. "So tell me who you're hiding from?" Jackson took a big swallow and began to cough. "Oops...sorry I'm just kidding. I mean it's just you seem like a good guy but you're holed up in my motel."

"I just needed a place to recover and this seemed like a great place and I guess I was correct." He pointed at the burger.

"Like I said, we just try and please. I'll have to introduce you to my sister. She should be here tomorrow." She lowered her voice and Jackson leaned forward. "She's not as nice as I am though, so don't get any ideas." Jackson laughed. It felt good to laugh. He hadn't laughed or even smiled in five years. He felt like a human again, not some caged animal. He took another bite and savored the delicious taste. "They are good aren't they?"

"Great, best burger in town right?"

"So where are you from?" Jackson took another bite. "I know...why is this lady asking me all these questions right?" Jackson laughed.

"No...no. I'm from around here, just down the road."

"Really me too. I'm a local girl. Born and raised in Arlington. Used to work at the Virginia Hospital Center...you know the Arlington Hospital." Jackson nodded. "I miss that. It was so much fun helping people."

"You must have been good at it."

"I tried. That was all I ever wanted to be even as little girl. I always wanted to be a nurse. I used to dress up every year for Halloween, as long as I remember. I couldn't wait to put on the real thing after I finished nursing school." She took another bite. "So what do you do?"

"I'm in technology." Jackson knew he had to be careful how much information he divulged, but he was sick of just plain lying. It felt so good to share something with someone. He hadn't even had a real conversation in over five years.

"I love technology. You know we have free Wi-Fi in our rooms. It's even high-speed...whatever that means. It was my idea to add it. I think our guests love it." She looked all around the room. 'You don't have a computer with you?"

"No, I figured I need to just recover and not let anything get in the way. I came here directly from the hospital."

"Don't be silly. We have several laptops in the office you can borrow."

"Really, you don't have to do all this."

"I know, but as I told you I'm the nice sister, so I have to keep a certain reputation. I'll bring it by later. I can't have a techie staying in my motel without a computer and plus I need someone to test my Wi-Fi and see what they think. I don't think it has any security on it. Would you mind checking it out?"

"Sure. I would be happy to. IT security is my specialty." She began to laugh.

"What?"

"I just can't believe you volunteered something without my asking." Jackson smiled and shook his head. He was having fun, though he kept thinking about what was happening to his family. He hoped they weren't being tortured. He still couldn't believe he had let that happen. "You need some more ketchup?...Charles...Charles?"

"Ah...yes...sorry about that."

"I know it's just the pain killers and antibiotics messing with your mind, seen it a million times before. Just take it easy and we'll have you better in no time?"

"How long do you think it will take till I can walk on it without crutches?"

She looked down at the bandage. "I would say a few more days. It will still be sore but you should be able to get around. We'll have to get those stitches out though before you get too far along." Jackson nodded. "Are you thinking about staying here for a while?"

"Hmmmm...let me think." He placed his hand under his chin and began to laugh. "It has good service, Wi-Fi and a qualified nurse...that would be a yes."

"Ha... I knew it."

"What?"

"You have a sense of humor too?"

"You're something you know that?"

"So I have been told?" Jackson took the last bite of his burger and rolled up the foil wrapper and threw it into the small garbage can. "You ready for the real surprise?"

"I can't wait." He watched her reach back into the bag and pull out two thick pieces of apple-pie. Jackson grabbed a fork and bit into the most delicious apple-pie he had ever had.

"Another Manny special."

"I'm starting to appreciate this Manny."

"Wait till you try his tuna special." Jackson rubbed his stomach. "Okay, let's see about changing that bandage again."

"It's okay. You don't have to do this. I can do it." He finally gave in, and five minutes later she was cleaning off the wound and rebandaging it. Afterwards, she left, but said she might be back later since she was working. Jackson powered on the TV as soon as she was gone and began flipping through the channels till he saw the Warden holding up his picture.

Chapter 39

The group of stoned-faced men was seated at the long steel table, their elbows resting coldly on the steel. Each of them were lifting pieces of plastic cutlery up to their mouths and swallowing the plain nondescript food. It was the same thing every day, so they were used to it and just went through the motions of moving their arms and their hands together like a well-trained orchestra. There were other men walking about watching their actions with the same grim expressions on their face. Everything was routine and they were used to routine. In fact, they lived for routine. It was what made their days pleasant. One of them was usually tucked behind a thick wall seated in a comfortable chair, but today he was out and about taking in the mundane daily routine. It had been a long week, and the effects had taken a toll on both his job and his family, but he had to keep going that was just the way it was. He pledged to do a better job in all aspects of his life and he was starting this morning by paying closer attention to the boring routines. Tonight he had a special dinner planned to break the news to his wife. He couldn't wait to see the expression on her face when she heard the news. He loved her so much. As he walked by the countless tables, something caught his eyes. There was a sharp movement and there were never sharp movements, something didn't mesh in his peripheral vision. He quickly swung himself around and found himself lunging for the table. Three feet away a large man was shielding a long sheath, and he plunged into the chest area of the two nearest men seated next to him. They both fell to the floor clutching their bleeding chests. He reached for the man, but he was too far away and he watched him sink the knife into the groin area of a third man and blood began to spray in every direction blinding him momentarily. He quickly lost his balance and fell to the hard floor then he felt a sharp pain in his neck and then there was no more movement.

Chapter 40

Dever slowly exited the Crown Vic and made his way into the Sheraton when his phone began to ring. He wanted to ignore it. He needed a Scotch. He finally answered it and as soon as he heard the voice on the other end began to speak he slammed the hotel's front door shut so hard a few of the nearby guests jumped back, but he didn't care. His little world was falling apart. He needed to find Stewart, and he needed to find him now. He shot Timmons a menacing look as the elevator doors closed, and they begin their ascent. A minute later, Timmons phone began to ring, and Dever watched him react to the news. They both kept their eyes downward and didn't say a word for the rest of the ride and into their adjacent rooms. Dever quickly opened a small bottle of scotch and began drinking it straight from the bottle. After he finished he felt no better, so he opened another one and did the same. He couldn't believe it, Sergeant Harris was dead. He tried to stop Carlos the Thomas from his killing spree back at The Conduit. Apparently, inmates had been teasing Thomas about getting beat up by Stewart and he just snapped. He knew he had to get back to the Conduit but he had to get Stewart first. He emptied the small bottle and threw it against the wall smashing it into a thousand small pieces. He opened another one. He knew it wasn't healthy what he was doing but he didn't like losing control. He loathed it. It was the reason he had joined the Marines where everything just made sense. Everything was done for a reason. Where else could he instantly be in charge of a platoon of type-A personalities just like himself. He closed his eyes and remembered marching his troop's right across the desert. The Iraqi's never had a chance. He could still smell the dust and gunpowder. It felt like he was right back there. Everything always made sense there. He didn't always agree with the mission but he always knew what to do, find the enemy and destroy them. It was never like this where everything was gray and he had to share control with others. He decided he needed to take back control. He quickly stood up and ran out of the room. A moment later, he was knocking on Timmon's door. He continued banging till Timmons opened up the door. He was already changed into his nightclothes.

"Let's go Timmons we need to get back to the Conduit?"

"Now...Sir?"

"Yes, now."

Timmons looked down. Dever knew he had been crying. His eyes were red. He and Harris had been close. They came through the ranks together. "Okay, give me about ten minutes to get ready. I'll meet you out-front." Dever quickly walked back to his room and gathered a few of his things and headed down to the lobby. He walked by the bar and saw Mitchell seated at a table by himself. When he saw Dever, he waved him over.

"Care for a drink Warden?"

Dever shook his head and sat down opposite Mitchell. Mitchell had changed out of his suit and was wearing a white t-shirt and faded jeans. No one would ever take him for a Federal Agent. "I've got to get back to the prison for an emergency that has come up." Mitchell looked at him curiously. "Remember Thomas, Stewart's cell mate? Carlos the Thomas." Mitchell nodded. "He flipped out and killed one of my sergeants and two inmates. The guy had just put in his retirement papers this morning."

Mitchell took a long sip. "I'm sorry Warden. That was a nasty guy. We took a hard look at him to see if there was any connection between him and Stewart, but we couldn't find anything except for them being cell mates. He said they never talked just went about their business."

Dever nodded. "Stewart was a model prisoner, never talked to anyone or caused any problems. In fact my officers had to prod him to get him to answer basic questions."

"It's always the quiet ones you got to watch out for. As far as I'm concerned, your staff did nothing wrong. We thoroughly investigated the whole escape. It was genius if you don't mind my saying."

"And so has the rest of it been as well."

"Where do you suspect he's going now?"

"If it was me, I would be heading for the border, but I don't think Stewart is that kind of guy. I think he's hiding right here right under our noses."

Mitchell took another long drink. His eyes focused on Dever. "I agree with you. I have four more teams meeting me in here in about an hour. I'm going to deploy them in the area. We'll check every friend, relative or anyone ever associated with the Stewarts. This guy is as slick as an oil spill."

Dever looked behind him for Timmons. He didn't see him yet. "I should be back sometime tomorrow or the next day at the latest, so please keep me informed if you get anything." Dever handed him a business card.

Mitchell placed the card in his jeans pocket, "will do Warden. You give your best to the guys down there, and we'll handle things up here. Take your time getting back." Dever nodded and started to get up when he saw Timmons peak in. "Oh, one more thing, Warden that you may not know, before Stewart got into the computer business he was classified in the Army."

Dever stopped about halfway up and then sat back down. "What's that mean?"

"It means for the four years he served in the Army, his duty was classified. We are trying to open the files, but we are running into many roadblocks. That may explain a few things." Dever quickly stood up and walked back towards Timmons shaking his head. Timmons gave him a puzzling look but Dever just waved him off. He couldn't understand why he didn't know that and why it wasn't in the prison file, and more importantly why someone else found out about it before his staff. He could feel his temper competing with the sadness over Harris as they begin their long journey back towards The Conduit.

Michelle pulled Stephanie close to her under the covers. The room was dark and cozy. Everything was quiet since Braymond left early this morning. He had left them in the back bedroom on a quiet cul-de-sac in the tree-lined suburbs of Fairfax County. She figured they were no more than fifteen minutes away from their house. She knew Stephanie was scared. She had been shaking in her arms up until a few minutes ago when she finally fell asleep. All she wanted to do was go back home. Michelle had been able to tune the old CRT TV to the Disney channel all day so she had been pre-occupied for most of the day, but as soon as darkness came in she began to shake again but luckily now she was breathing heavily and rhythmically in her arms. She pulled the covers up to her own chin and tried not to think about what had happened today and what was about to happen in the future. It was out of her control.

Chapter 41

Jackson looked at the door when he heard the knocking. It wasn't the soft knocking of Jessie. It was harder and faster causing his senses to fully awaken. He wished he had a weapon. He looked towards the back of the room at the small window opening to the parking lot. It was the kind you couldn't open. He looked for something to smash it with. The closest object was a wooden chair. He slowly started towards the door and carefully looked through the peephole. He had seen all the movies where people get shot through the peephole, so he glanced through it quickly and jumped when he saw the young man outside. He was tall muscular and had a short crew cut. He could be law enforcement, probably a Marshall. He knew they were on the scene now. He wondered how they had found him. He immediately thought of Jessie. She probably watched the news. It was the lead story on every local news station and a major one on the three national ones as well. He knew it was just a matter of time till they found him. They always did. He knew when he first escaped that even though he had planned thoroughly he would still eventually be caught or killed in the process, but it would all be worthwhile for just some time with Stephanie. He couldn't miss her precious childhood. It only happened once, and he wasn't about to miss it anymore. He had already missed way too much. He thought about them now and hoped they were safe and sound, but he knew they weren't thanks to him. Maybe he should have just left them alone and stayed in prison where he belongs, he thought. Then they would be home right now living their normal life and not having to be taken by some madman in the middle of the night doing God only knows to them. He looked down at his bandaged ankle and remembered the excruciating pain. He couldn't bear to think if that was being done to Michelle or Stephanie. How had he gotten them into this mess? Maybe he was just selfish. He felt tears began running down his cheeks. What if a knife was being run through Stephanie's flesh right now, he thought. He buckled at the thought and immediately began walking towards the door. He was going to surrender and put them all back to where they belong. He quickly opened the door and waited to get pounced on, but nothing happened. He stepped out into the parking lot and looked all around and then he saw it. There was a laptop in a case leaning against the wall with a note attached. He picked up the bag and read the note. "I hope this makes your stay a little more pleasant, Jess." He jumped when he heard a door slam next door. It was the same guy that had just been knocking on his door. He was coming right for him.

"Glad you got it. Ms. Scola wanted me to make sure you got it. Sorry, I had to check the room next door. She said you had a bum leg and it might take you a while to get to the door."

"Thanks...you work here?"

"Yep...been here for three years last week. Name is Ben. Let me know if you need anything. I usually work around here at night. Help out the Scolas."

"Great to meet you and thanks for this." Jackson tapped the bag.

"Ms. Scola said you were going to check out the Wi-Fi. Let me know what you think. I set most of it up. I'm taking classes in IT during the day. She said you were a technology expert. I want to be a geek too."

"I'll check it out and let you know. Good to hear you're taking classes. Let me know if you need any help."

"You got it mister. Have a nice night." Jackson watched him walk towards the office then he stopped and turned around. "Oh...I almost forgot Ms. Scola said to tell you she'll be by later to fix your bandage." Jackson looked down at his leg. "She used to be a nurse."

"So I've heard. Good night." Jackson quickly went back inside and fired up the laptop. He immediately connected to the internet and checked out the Wi-Fi. In about five minutes he was into the router and was changing settings to optimize the speed and security. Then he clicked on the CNN website and couldn't believe his eyes when he read about the murders at The Conduit. The details were sketchy, but three inmates had been killed and one officer. He continued to read headline after headline describing the chaos taking place at The Conduit. It all started with him escaping and kidnapping his family. Yes, they were calling it kidnapping. He read even the FBI was involved now. They said he was still considered armed and dangerous, and his family was in grave danger. He quickly closed the site. A few minutes later, he was into the SITA website and was crawling through parts that weren't open to the public. He downloaded and installed several apps that routed and rerouted his identity and IP address hundreds of times. He read all about them during his last five years behind bars. He couldn't believe how easy it was to access anything nowadays. He figured things would have tightened up after a few years, but with the tools available things had only gotten easier. He couldn't imagine the damage that could be done by someone with a little knowledge and a mischievous mind. Five minutes later, he had a username and password that allowed him access the company server. He was breaking numerous crimes, but he would stop at nothing to get his family back even if it meant he were to go back to prison for extended time. He didn't care anymore he just wanted them safe and back home. He tried not to dwell on that as he entered into the human resource server. He looked at thousands of records and couldn't find anyone that resembled the man he had met with five years ago and had come back and sliced his ankle. He finally gave up when he got to about five thousand and all the pictures began to resemble one another. He would take another look later. He had no doubt SITA had upgraded their security system after what had happened five years ago, but he was surprised at how easily he was able to move around. His tracking app even showed him no one was aware to his access on the system. He loved technology. He felt the blood flying through his brains as he accessed a security camera system and was able to see the interior lobby of SITA, the same place he had entered. It brought back so many fresh memories of pain and sorrow. He went back to the human resources server again and began looking through records. He had to find their captor. Just as he was less than a thousand away, he heard the familiar soft knock on the door. He went over and took a quick peek through the peephole and saw Jessie.

"How's my favorite patient doing?" She had a big bright smile on her face.

"Great! Thanks so much for the computer."

She sat down on the edge of the bed. He noticed it was almost midnight. He didn't realize he had been working that long. "Sorry I couldn't deliver it myself. I had fifty high school kids from Georgia I needed to check in and it was a mess. I hope the noise didn't bother you."

Jackson quickly clicked closing the windows he had open and shut the computer lid. "Not at all, I didn't hear anything. I was working pretty hard on the computer. I looked at the Wi-Fi and made some changes."

"Oh...thanks. I guess we'll get a good test for the next two nights with all these kids and their iPhones." Jackson quietly laughed. "So did Ben tell you I would be coming by?"

"He did. Nice kid."

"If you only knew," She shook her head. "He's been in and out of prison and juvenile hall since he was probably thirteen. His parents left him at about six. Poor kid came home from school one day, and they were gone. Packed up everything in the house and just left. He was shuffled around from home to home then I got to meet him in the hospital one night after he had been stabbed. My sister and I kind of took over from there." He watched her eyes look towards the computer. "He wants to be an IT guy like you too."

"He mentioned that. I told him I would love to help him."

"That would mean the world to him. I told him all about you, even if it's just for an hour or something." She paused. "I knew there was a great kid in there despite all the bad things he has done. He has done a great job here for us. We gave him a room to live in, and he keeps an eye on the place all the time even when he's not working. He's had no problems since he has been here."

"That's great! You guys are special people."

"Nah...we just like giving people second chances. My dad always said don't judge a person by their shell, and it's true you never know what you're going to find inside someone...I mean look at you." Jackson watched her laugh. He quietly laughed as well. "I mean you seem like a successful guy, but yet you're holed up here in a motel with a bad wound to your ankle. I think most people would be a little fearful, but here I am in your room at midnight." Jackson gave her a warm smile.

"I can't tell you how much I owe you."

"I'm here to help. Now lift up that leg. Let's change that bandage. Did you take your pain meds and antibiotic?" Jackson looked down at the floor. "I guess that means no. Put that leg up mister." Jackson watched her walk to the dresser and grab the two pill bottles and look at them closely. "Braymond Reynolds...huh? And here I thought your name was Charles...see what I mean?"

"That's my real name...everyone just calls me Charles."

"I understand, and I won't ask any more questions." Jackson slowly propped his leg up on the bed unsure of what to say. Maybe it was time for him to leave the motel. He was drawing too much attention from Jessie. What if she looked in to him? His appearance had changed some, but with a close look she could probably tell who he was. He watched her gently remove the bandage and clean it up. She was so good. A few minutes later, she said she had to go and would be back with breakfast. For some reason Jackson trusted her, so he continued looking through the server till he finally fell asleep.

Chapter 42

Dever and Timmons pulled into the parking lot of the Conduit. There were reporters everywhere with their spiraling antennae's reaching high into the sky. He wasn't looking forward to getting out of the car, but he slowly exited and stood on the top step and faced the reporters as they quickly swarmed him. He ignored most of the questions or gave the usual no comment till an older balding man asked him if he was going to resign. He quickly waved him off and scurried inside leaving Timmons behind to fend off the reporters. He couldn't believe they were asking for his resignation. He blew through the reception area ignoring the usual faces eyeing him for his reaction. He quickly made it into his office nodding at his secretary who was eagerly trying to get his attention. As soon as he entered, he knew why she had done that. In his chair sat the Governor and two of his aides. He was calmly seated in a dark-blue suit; his hair slicked tightly to his head showing off his chiseled political face.

"Hello Warden. I hope you're drive down went well." Dever watched the two aides quickly scramble outside his office leaving him alone with the Governor. They had both worked closely together on a few other publicized prisoners residing at The Conduit, but nothing like the last little while had brought, and Dever could see the toll on the Governors face. He wondered what his own looked like. He calmly took a seat opposite his desk. He hated authority and the Governor knew it which was why he didn't speak for several long awkward seconds leaving Dever scrambling uncomfortably in his seat. "We got a real problem here Warden. Making us look bad. They are getting nervous in Raleigh, and as you know, I have an election coming up soon. What can you tell me?"

"We've got the whole place locked down, and I'm going to meet with Harris's wife shortly."

"I'm sorry about your officer, but things are getting out of hand and there's the whole Stewart thing. Now he has kidnapped his family."

Dever tried to hide his frown, but he didn't care anymore so instead he looked away. He hated politicians and their stupid concerns, always their own needs before everyone else's. "We've got a whole team of law enforcement in search of Stewart. We'll get him soon. The net is closing in."

"With all due respect Warden I think we have heard that before and now this. We have four dead in your prison from the same cell mate of Stewart."

"Three dead."

"The other inmate just died about ten minutes ago." Dever looked down at his phone mad that the Governor had to break the news to him not one of his own staff. He would deal with that later. "Things look like they are out of control down here. You're gone up north chasing Stewart, and all hell is breaking loose down here." Dever nodded. "You're putting me in a bad position and almost leave me with no decision."

"We'll get him. I promise. How far can he get with a little kid and his wife?"

"How do you know they're still alive?"

Dever scooted forward a little on the upholstered chair he had never sat in. "Trust me Governor they are still alive. That's the whole reason he got out of here."

The Governor slowly stood up and straightened out his suit. "You better be right and you better do it quickly, or I have to do what I have to do. We'll meet back here again in three days. I hope it will be on better terms, and again I'm sorry about your officer."

Dever nodded. "Yes Sir." He watched as the two aides entered the room and escorted the Governor out. A minute later, he looked out the window and saw him fielding questions form the same reporters he had just ignored. Things were not looking good. He had maybe three days left on the job, one of his best officers and a good man was dead as well as three inmates and Stewart were still on the loose. He never failed...not Dever. He punched in three numbers on his phone and two minutes later his Captain was standing in front of him.

"So tell me again what happened." Dever listened to the whole thing again. He learned that Thomas had smuggled in a metal spoon from the outside. Dever watched as the Captain pulled up a video file on his computer and left him by himself. Dever watched the whole incident three times before wiping a small tear from his left eye as he watched Harris lie on the floor dying. He pulled up his personnel file and dialed Harris's wife then he dialed his own.

Chapter 43

Jackson awoke to the soft knocks and the pleasant aroma of scrambled eggs and bacon. He quickly jumped out of bed and was amazed at how much better his ankle was feeling and he hadn't had a painkiller since before he went to bed. As soon as he opened the door, he saw Jessie carrying a large bag of food from Manny's. She quickly sat it down on the dresser and smiled as Jackson showed her how well he was walking. He quickly made his way back to the bed grabbing the bag and two plates covered with eggs, bacon and deep dark-colored hash browns. He could feel his stomach rumble with excitement.

"It looks like someone is doing much better. You must be resting like I told you."

Jackson nodded and looked at the laptop he couldn't wait to get on again. "Yeah I got a good night's sleep last night."

"I hope those high school kids didn't bother you. Ben said they were pretty loud last night."

"I didn't hear a thing."

"You must sleep like a baby."

"If you only knew." He saw the confused look on her face. "It's a story for another day." She smiled and nodded. "These eggs are unbelievable. Please tell Manny thank you. Actually, maybe I'll tell him myself now that I'm mobile again."

"Let's not get carried away Charles...or Braymond." Jackson took another heaping bite and a drink of orange juice.

"I can't tell you how much I owe you."

"Don't worry. Wait till you see the bill." He quickly looked up and she began to laugh. "I'm just kidding. This is on me for being such a good guest."

"Next time it's going to be on me."

She gently clasped his hand. "You just worry about recovering for now. Jackson could instantly feel her warmth enter him. He so longed for Michelle and Stephanie. He thought again about what had been done to him and what he might be doing to them. "Charles...Charles are you okay?" She quickly let go of his hand.

"I'm fine. I was just thinking about something."

"If this is making you uncomfortable, I can leave you alone."

"No, please stay. I would be uncomfortable if you left." Jackson enjoyed her company. It was like they had some kind of common connection. He figured she had taken pity on him because of his condition. He also liked the fact she didn't ask too many questions otherwise he would have to be on the run again. A few minutes later, they finished breakfast and she changed his bandage. She was happy it was looking better and after she left Jackson took a long hot shower letting his leg and aching body soak in all the hot healing water and steam. He immediately went back to the bed and quickly scanned the news and read about the incident down at The Conduit. He was saddened to see Sergeant Harris's picture, but he felt no emotion towards the other three inmates and wasn't surprised to see Carlos the Thomas behind the whole thing. He quickly moved on and clicked on the SITA shortcuts he placed on the laptop last night. He spent a few hours searching through records and after having no luck he, decided he needed a break. He carefully placed his shoes on and opened the door. His leg was feeling pretty good. He was able to put pressure on it and he wasn't using the crutches. He deiced to take a walk. Ten minutes later, he was seated in Manny's diner eating a tuna fish sandwich and a Diet Coke. Jessie was right, the tuna was delicious. Things were looking better. He was forcing himself not to think what could be happening to Michelle and Stephanie. He knew he couldn't function if he thought about them being tortured. After finishing up, he made the walk back to the motel. His leg still felt good, though it was starting to stiffen up, but the pain was tolerable. He went back to his room and called a cab. He waited out front near the office and watched a Red Top pull up. He waved down the driver. Just as he was getting in, he heard his name being called behind him it was Jessie.

"Charles...you're up and heading out."

He slowly sat down and looked up. "I just need to check on something. I should be right back."

"You don't need to take a cab. We have a car you can use." She looked at the driver. "No offense to you." The driver nodded. "If you think you are able to drive." She pointed at an older model white Ford sedan near the back of the parking lot.

"What don't you have here?" He watched Jessie laugh. He looked at the driver then back at her, "next time. Thanks." He waved and watched her head back into the small office. He smiled and directed the cab towards his house. Fifteen minutes later, they drove past his empty house. There were still no cars or any activity. He directed the cab to drop him off at the nearby Starbucks to eliminate any other suspicion. After a hot cup of coffee, he called another cab and arrived back at the motel. He looked at the white Ford and knew what he had to do next. He went back into his room and bypassed the pain killers and popped several Advil that Jessie had placed on the dresser. He needed a clear mind for what was coming up next. He sat back down on the bed and placed his bandaged leg up on the bed, instantly removing any pain or stiffness and then he went to work.

Michelle awoke to the sound of footsteps below. Stephanie was still curled tight against her. She could feel the warmth of her body emanating heat. She smiled and slowly pulled the covers down from her and placed both feet softly onto the floor. She tiptoed to the window and looked out at the clear and sunny morning below her. She loved this time of year. She closed her eyes and pictured Stephanie riding her two-wheeled bike equipped with training wheels up and down the sidewalk. She wondered what they were thinking back at her house. The Warden and the police officers were probably shocked they were no longer there. She imagined the Warden running around screaming out orders. She expected to hear his loud authoritative voice at any time now. She looked down the long and empty road in both directions and didn't see anyone coming or going in either direction. The only vehicle around was the dark Jeep Cherokee parked perfectly straight in the narrow driveway down below. She quickly stepped away from the window when she heard the footsteps outside her doorway.

Chapter 44

After a couple of hours of collecting information, Jackson left his motel room and walked down to the motel office. He stepped inside expecting to see Jessie, but instead he saw a similar looking woman who was several years older with two small children seated next to her behind the counter.

"Hi, I'm looking for Jessie." He looked all around. Both children were staring at him.

The woman stared at him a little too long before speaking then she started to smile when she looked down and saw the bandage. "You must be Charles. I have heard so much about you."

"I hope it's all good."

"It's all great, except she left out the part about how handsome you are." Jackson shook his head and laughed.

"I just want to say you guys have a great place here."

"Thanks. We have worked so hard since our parents passed away. I'm hoping to leave it to these guys one day, though we will hopefully have our remodeling done by then." Did Jess tell you about that?" Jackson shook his head. "See that picture over there." Jackson saw a colorful architect's drawing on the wall showing a beautiful upscale hotel.

"Wow. That is beautiful."

"One day. We still have some cash issues we need to work out but that's our goal one day."

"From what I have seen so far, you'll get there."

"Why thanks. That was my dad's dream. When he bought the place it was falling apart and full of drug addicts and convicts." Jackson took a deep breath. "So we've come a long way but we have a long way to go." She looked at her children. The little girl who looked no more than five smiled. "I'm sorry to bore you with this. I know you're looking for Jess. She had to go out and get some supplies. She'll be back tonight. She's so good. She works nights and days and lets me be with my kids and husband, couldn't do it without her. This place is like her family. She took it so hard when our parents died."

"I'm so sorry about that. Doesn't she have a family of her own?"

"She used to, but her husband left her and she never had any kids. Anyway, she told me to give you these. You might need to borrow the car. She said you're recovering or something." Jackson caught the key chain with his right hand. "It's the white Ford out there. All we ask is you replace whatever gas you use. Think of it as kind of a courtesy vehicle."

"Thanks so much. I have never heard of anyplace offering such great service."

"Family tradition." Jackson watched her look up at the ceiling. "This is what Mom and Dad would have wanted, they wouldn't settle for any less." Jackson thanked her and waved goodbye to the kids. He walked through the parking lot and started up the old Ford. It turned over right away. He carefully backed out of the lot. He hadn't driven a car in five years, but everything felt good once he pulled out onto the road. He drove slowly through the streets till he reached his old neighborhood. He drove past his house once, ensuring there was no one there. After several more passes, he finally parked down the street near two large trees partially concealing the car and slowly walked to the house staying in the shadows and made his way to the backyard. Last time he was here, he saw Michelle and Stephanie. Today it was empty and dark. He slowly crept toward the back door. It was a glass paneled door that he easily smashed with a small rock. He reached in and turned the lock after looking all around him. His leg was starting to hurt a little, but he wasn't sure if it was from the cuts or his nerves, but he ignored it and entered his house. It felt so different. He imagined this moment so many nights in prison. He only wished his family was here, and he was coming to rescue them. He quietly closed the door behind him and took one last look for any nosy neighbors. He didn't see anyone, so he stepped across the soft beige carpet he and Michelle had picked out. It felt so good beneath his feet compared to the cold cement floor he had lived with for the last few years. He was home. He took his time walking through the living room. Everything was still the same, but yet so different. He knew where he had to go, but he wanted to enjoy this. He stopped and sat on the same couch he had seen Stephanie and Michelle on before. He closed his eyes and imagined they were right here with him. He could feel them. He continued walking towards the front door. It was the same one he got dragged out of on his way to prison. He couldn't help not staring at the photos of the three of them as he began going upstairs. He still couldn't believe he was here. It felt so surreal. He pretended he was heading up to check on Stephanie, but when he reached the top of the stairs, he realized the emptiness. There were three bedrooms. The master to the right, Stephanie's and the guestroom they turned into an office on the other side. He stepped into the master first. He stood in the middle of the room looking in all directions. It felt so good. He wanted to scream out loud. He sat down on the queen-sized bed and rested his sore leg. It was starting to bother him now, but he couldn't stop. He was so close. He slowly got up and went into Stephanie's room. It was almost just as it had been five years ago. It was still painted in the soft lavender color he had picked out as well as full of stuffed-teddy bears that they had purchased in the weeks and months prior to her being born. They had wanted everything to be just perfect when she was born. He picked up one of the bears and hugged it tight. He could feel Stephanie. A minute later, he had to wipe the tears from his face and force himself to leave her room and go to the office. He took one long last look back before he finally left. He could almost see Stephanie lying sound asleep on her bed. He quickly closed the door and entered the office. As soon as he stepped in, he knew exactly where he was going. He could see the metal filing cabinet still in the same corner of the room he had dragged it to so many years ago. Nothing changed. He knelt down in front of it and opened the bottom drawer. It only took him a minute to find the SITA file. Michelle had always been so organized. He quickly glanced through it and started reading about Braymond until he heard the car door shut outside on the driveway. He ran to the window and felt the moisture seep onto his forehead as he watched a police officer walk away from his cruiser and head towards the house. Jackson placed the file under his arm and worked his way across the room to the top of the stairs. He heard the front door begin to rattle. He had nowhere to go. His leg was aching and he was having difficulty putting pressure on it but he knew he had to keep moving. He scrambled towards the master bedroom as the front door flung open. He only had one chance and he hoped it was still there. He quickly tiptoed past the bed and stepped into the dressing room quietly closing the door behind him.

Chapter 45

Dever received the call just as Timmons was pulling off of I-95 North and into Northern Virginia. There was a break-in at the Stewart's. A silent alarm had been activated and an officer was on the scene investigating. Dever tried to lurch the car forward, but he knew it was no hope they were still several minutes away at best. He couldn't figure out who had broken into the Stewart house, but he had a good idea it was probably Stewart himself. This changed everything. He looked over at Timmons at the wheel. He had bags under his eyes and emotion on his face. It had been a tough night back in North Carolina. Dever had spoken to the new widow and still could feel her sadness and tears in his heart. He had done these several times while in the Corp, but this was the first time as a warden. It never got any easier. He could still remember every single face he had broken the tragic news to. Afterwards, he had held a meeting with his administration team and reiterated the plan to keep the prisoners on lock down, but he knew that couldn't last because of the extra stress it put on the officers and inmates. He had to find Stewart and get back to the business of running the prison. It was his prison and his responsibility. He enjoyed the time with his wife last night, despite the fact that it had been hurried, and he had only been there physically not mentally. His mind was focused on Stewart and what was happening at The Conduit. He watched Timmons pull into the left lane and pass a slow-moving truck. He didn't know too much about Timmons. He wished he knew more, but he knew he had a wife and a kids and he was keeping him from them. He forced himself to think about Stewart again. It was just easier to compartmentalize everything. It was something he had always been able to do, and it was the only way he could have so much success in both the Marines and his life in the prison system. The pulled onto the main road leading to Annandale and were no more than five minutes away. Dever could feel the excitement growing inside him; maybe they were finally going to get a break. He adjusted the radio to the same frequency of the police but there was no communication at the moment. All he could do is look out the window and hope they got there in time. The last he had heard was there was a broken window on a door in the back, and the officer was entering the premises now with backup still on the way. Dever tried to think of any reason why Stewart would come back to the house. He already had his family and if it were him, he would be holed up somewhere hunkering down and waiting till things cool down and disappear faraway, but something was different. It was like this since he had first escaped. Something was just different. There was something he was missing. He tried to go through every scenario, but he couldn't put his finger on it, but every sense and feeling in his worn and stressed out body was telling him differently. He watched Timmons make a quick right cutting in front of a light-blue Toyota. They were right down the road now. A minute later, they were driving down Stewart's street. Dever saw the two police cars in the driveway, one with its lights still flashing an eerie blue glow. He quickly jumped out of the car and ran through the front door causing the closest officer inside to jump back. Dever quickly identified himself and began walking quietly beside the officer. They both looked back as Timmons joined them. They determined the first floor was clear and Dever and Timmons closely followed the two officers up the stairs.

Jackson breathed in deeply as he heard the footsteps below him. He knew it was only a matter of seconds till they would be on the second floor. He looked down at his bandaged leg and grunted with all his might lifting his leg up and over the window sill. It was at least three feet above the floor. It was a small one pane window barely large enough for someone to go through. For some reason, there was a window in the dressing room that led to the roof. Jackson and Michelle had never known the reason for it, but they always joked it would be a good way to escape and now Jackson was putting it to test. If only Michelle was here to see it. He listened closely as he thought he heard the Warden's voice, but he wasn't sure and didn't have time to wait. He pushed as hard as he could and was seated on the windowsill with both legs hanging over towards the roof. It was at least a five-foot drop down. He hesitated till he heard the footsteps on the stairs behind him. They were getting too close. He had no choice. He closed his eyes, looked back and pushed himself off the ledge and fell towards the roof. It felt like he was suspended in midair for what seemed like minutes, but in reality was less than a second. Then he landed hard on the shingles with his legs taking the brunt of the impact. He felt his bad leg buckle as he tried to get his balance and not fall off. The pain was excruciating, but he didn't dare look down at his leg. He didn't want to see the damage. He ignored the pain and quickly sat down and began sliding down the slanted roof towards the edge. It was a two-story house except that the roof angled down to the first story in the back. A few seconds later, he arrived at the edge and slung his legs over the gutter. He sat for a second catching his breath, despite running out of time. He finally swung around so his legs dropped down and he was holding the edge of the roof with his hands. He reluctantly dropped down onto the ground feeling the ground meet his feet. He immediately felt more pain, but he couldn't stop now. He was standing behind the house on one leg in the backyard near where he had broken the glass a few minutes earlier. He quickly dove into a row of bushes separating his yard from the next-door neighbors when he heard a voice above him. It was definitely the Warden's. He lay still not daring to even breathe for about two minutes, and then he began to crawl. He crawled as quickly as he could through the bushes coming out on the other side in the neighbor's yard. He was sliding and crawling across the grass like an injured animal. He could only imagine what he looked like. He hoped no one could see him. He could see the white Ford up ahead. It was no more than a hundred yards away. He had to make it. It was all he could see. It was paydirt. He felt like an injured football player reaching out for a touchdown to win the Super bowl. It was do or die. He continued to crawl until he reached the pavement. His legs and arms felt all bruised and cut up, but he didn't stop until he reached the Ford. He slowly rose up to his feet, feeling his leg and ankle scream out to him. He didn't have much left. He somehow pulled open the driver's door, jumped inside and started the engine up. It felt good to be in the comfort of the car. He didn't look behind him. He just placed it in drive and pulled out onto the road and headed out of the neighborhood as quickly as possible. He tapped his shirt and felt the folder. Now if only he could get away.

Chapter 46

Dever reached the top of the stairs and followed the police officers into the master bedroom. They checked under the bed and in the bathroom, but came up empty. Dever reached for the small door leading to the dressing room and immediately upon seeing the open window knew what had happened. The officers went on to the rest of the rooms leaving him alone with Timmons. Dever pointed at the open window sticking his head out and seeing the slanted roof below leading to the backyard.

"I think he got out the window here."

Timmons leaned in and looked out. "Are you sure it was Stewart?"

"No, but who else would break in here. We need to find out what he was doing in here?" They both turned their heads when the two police officers entered the room. Dever showed them the open window and they both ran down the stairs. Dever knew whoever had been in the house was long gone now so he stayed where he was. "Let's start in here and then work our way through each room. I want to know what he was looking for."

"We have no warrant Sir."

"I'm aware of that Timmons, but we also have an escaped convicted murderer who has kidnapped his family."

"Do you think he will harm them?"

Dever stared at Timmons for a few seconds before answering. "Does it matter what I think? We need to bring him back Timmons. Look at what is happening around us."

"I'm sorry about Harris Sir."

Dever shook his head. "I'm sorry too. I know you two were close. I intend to have us both back for his service." Timmons nodded and began moving shirts and pants folded neatly on a shelf in the dressing room. "There is something going on here that we are missing Timmons."

"What do you mean?"

"It's more complicated than Stewart just escaping with his family. There is something we aren't getting."

"I don't understand Sir."

"It's just a hunch Timmons, especially with that whole thing at the Candleight, and the other guy rushing us and the trick Stewart and his wife played on us eating dinner like that." Dever slammed his fist against the wall. "I can't put my finger on it."

"We'll get them Sir."

"I hope you're right Timmons...I hope you're right."

The two officers slowly walked into the bedroom shaking their heads. "No sign of anyone Warden."

"Thank you guys. We got it from here." The two officers looked at each other and then headed back downstairs. Dever heard the door open and close, and a minute later, the cruisers pull out of the driveway. He continued looking through the bedroom until he heard Timmons yelling for him.

"Warden. I may have something."

Dever quickly closed the dresser drawer and headed to where Timmons was. He was kneeling in front of a small three-drawer filing cabinet in a small office. "What have you got?"

Timmons held up a large hanging folder with the name SITA on it. "The drawer was open and whoever was in here looked like they were looking at this folder. The contents are gone. Dever grabbed the folder while Timmons continued to look through the rest of the contents.

"We need to go back to SITA...now Timmons." Timmons shut the bottom drawer and followed the Warden down the steps and out the door. They looked around the house and Dever saw the recent indentations in the bushes but didn't say anything. He walked back to the car still holding the empty folder and waited for Timmons. He knew the answer was in there somewhere. They just had to find out where.

Chapter 47

Jackson pulled the Ford into a spot in the back of the parking lot. He looked at himself in the rearview mirror and couldn't believe what a mess he was. His face was scratched and dirty from crawling. His leg ached and his bandaged looked torn and full of dirt and leaves. He looked like a mess. He limped across the parking lot and slowly opened the office door not sure what to expect. He was surprised when Jessie popped out from behind the counter. He couldn't believe the shock on her face when she opened the door and came running around. She stopped in front of him and looked at him up and down.

"Charles...Charles what happened? You look awful."

"I know. I had a little accident."

"A little?" He watched her look beyond him and out the window at the car.

"Not that kind of accident. I decided to go on a little hike and I fell down."

"You went on a hike with your ankle like that. Are you crazy? Hold on one second." She ran back in the door and behind the counter. She picked up a radio and called into it. He heard a male voice answer and a minute later, Ben came in through the front door. He looked at Jackson up and down and then went behind the counter.

"You okay dude?"

"Just fell."

"Can you watch the desk for a while? I've got to get him cleaned up. Thanks Ben." Ben nodded and sat down in the chair and began to move the mouse around in front of the computer screen. Jessie placed her arm on Jackson, and they slowly walked towards his room. He couldn't believe how bad his ankle was hurting. "Does it hurt?" Jackson nodded.

A minute later, they were in his room, and she had the bandage off and was rubbing ointment on the wound. She handed him a painkiller and one of the antibiotics that he immediately swallowed. "How did you fall?"

"I wasn't paying attention."

"Why don't you go get cleaned up, then we'll get some food in you. Jackson nodded, and headed straight for the shower. He placed the file that was tucked under his shirt on the counter next to the sink and peeled off the rest of his clothes. A minute later, he smiled feeling the hot water beat down on his skin. After he dried off and put on fresh clothes, he exited the bathroom and walked back into the room. Jessie was gone. He saw the scribbled note on the pillow that she had gone to Manny's and would be right back with some food. Jackson smiled, picked up the note and crumpled it up and threw it into the trash can. He felt much better. His leg didn't hurt as much, it was just a little stiff, but he could handle that. He sat down on the edge of the bed and began reading the file. He couldn't believe how much detail was in it. He never read the files. He left all that to Michelle. She was so meticulous. He skimmed through the pages quickly and arrived at the last page and stared at the picture of Braymond. His smiling face was staring back almost daring him to come find him. Jackson thought back to his ankle and then his family. He read through the file again and powered on the laptop and confirmed everything on SITA's confidential servers. He had everything he needed. He was ready. He had a plan. He closed the lid when he heard the soft knocks on the door. It was Jessie with two of Manny's best burgers. He helped her open the bag and they pulled together two chairs and laid out the meal.

"I promise it's on me next time." Jackson placed his foot up. Jessie immediately looked at the bandage.

"Not bad Charles...not bad." She smiled. "I see you're a quick learner.

Jackson smiled back. He had put the bandage on himself after the shower. "Thanks to watching you do it so well."

"I've already heard Ben saying how much better the Wi-Fi is...I can't thank you enough."

Jackson took a bite from the burger. "It was nothing. Just needed a few tweaks. Thanks for letting me use the laptop."

"Anytime. You can use it as long as you need as well as the car. As long as you promise not to go one any more of those hikes." She started to laugh.

"Thanks. I promise won't but I've got to take a hike up to Manny and thank him. These are so good." He took another large bite.

"Another perk of working right down the road." She looked down at her watch. "The high school kids are checking out in about an hour. Ben said they were coming and going all night last night."

"I still don't hear anything."

"I see. Maybe tonight will be different when we host a fraternity reunion two doors down from you." She smiled.

"Really?"

"Yep. They come every year and stay for three nights. I think they went to George Washington University. So get ready. I'm sorry they can get pretty loud."

"No problem I remember those days."

"You were a fraternity boy?"

"Alpha Sigma Phi?"

Jackson watched as she stood up and started to dance and cheer, "Theta Pi" the one and only.

"Where did you go to school?"

She took a long sip and looked towards the window. "I'm a Baltimore girl, John's Hopkins."

"Wow!"

"How about you? Let me guess Colorado because you're a big time hiker." Jackson smiled. "Nope, I'm a Nittany Lion."

"You went to Penn State...really? I had a few friends who went there. They loved it." Jackson closed his eyes and remembered meeting Michelle his junior year at Penn State. They were in the same management class. He was majoring in IT and she was a business major. As soon as he had walked into the classroom, he knew she was the one. He had sat down next to her and they were inseparable ever since. They eventually moved in together during their senior year and then got married. "Charles...Charles...you okay?"

"Sorry, I was just thinking about Penn State."

"A lot of good times huh. Remembering all those frat parties?"

Jackson shook his head. "Oh yeah...lot of good times." Jackson finished his burger and ate some fries. Jessie stayed for another hour till she heard the busses starting up and she ran to the office. Jackson powered on the laptop again and logged into the SITA servers and began the exact same process he did five years ago using the data in the file. A few hours later, he was ready.

Chapter 48

He set the alarm for 12:00 AM and jumped when it went off, something he had always done ever since he started waking up to an alarm back in high school. He quickly rose up and got dressed in his darkest clothes, a navy blue sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. A few minutes later, he walked into the motel office and smiled seeing Ben seated behind the desk playing with the computer. He fondly remembered those days back when he was in school. He could never get away from it. Michelle used to have to beg him to step away from the computer. He spoke with Ben for a few minutes about the latest network infrastructure and told him he was going out for a quick bite. Ben gave him the keys, and he started up the Ford. It began. He made the slow ride back towards the highway flooding his mind with many of the same memories he had five years ago. It felt good. It was something he had to do, though this time he was doing it because he had to. About twenty minutes later, he was parked in the back of the SITA parking lot out of range of any perimeter cameras. He had checked all those before. He hadn't always been this thorough, but after college he had been applying to various jobs when one day a well-dressed man showed up knocking on his door. He spoke so eloquently about a special assignment the Government was hiring for, and they needed his expertise. He had been skeptical at first but after the man pulled out his laptop and showed him all the special software and equipment Jackson was hooked. That's how he ended up working for the United States Army for four years in their classified intel department. It was as if it had unofficially never happened. He would drive to a bland office building every morning and then be taken to a special high-security building out in the Great Falls area of Northern Virginia where he was trained on how to penetrate any computer system or secure facility. By the time he was done with training, there was nothing he couldn't get into. It was if he were a magician. He stayed with the Army another three years finishing out his obligation then he returned to civilian life and eventually started his own business. Now he was back where it all had ended, his last assignment. He felt the same goose bumps he had felt before as he stepped out of the car and worked his way toward the building zigzagging his way through the parking lot to avoid the cameras. He memorized them last night. This was something he had to regularly do while serving his Country. It was his jobs to not only test the secureness of Army facilities, but to also access ones they needed to see. He worked his way up to the side of the building and crouched down in the row of hedges alongside the entranceway. He would have to time it just right with the cameras and guard patrol. He counted down from ten and jumped up when he reached zero. He quickly typed in the six-digit code on the door and stepped inside. He was back. He slowly leaned against the wall and made his way down the same dark hallway he did last time. He knew there would be a security officer around the corner, so he carefully stopped and tried to control his breathing. It was something the Army had trained him on incessantly. A calm mind is a clear mind they had told him over and over. He had to get past the guard to make it upstairs to the safe area. There would be another guard stationed outside the safe, but he would deal with him when he got there. He slowly peaked out his left eye around the corner and saw the crisp white shirt of the officer no more than ten feet away. They were still wearing the same uniforms they had been five years ago. The officer was seated back against the wall, forcing anyone who goes down the hallway to where the stairs leading to the second floor are located. Jackson could see the man's profile. He looked around thirty and in shape. He planned on using the same method he had used last time, but things were a little different now. He was playing for the real thing not just a test the security job. He reached into his back pocket and waited till the guard looked away towards the bank of monitors forcing him to leave the back of his head towards Jackson. Jackson took note of this and made his move. He couldn't move as quickly as he had before, but he ignored the pain and sprang into action. He was beside the guard before he even knew what had happened. He immediately placed a hand over the surprised guard's eyes then quickly removed it shining the bright light from the flashlight he found in the Ford's glove box. He took advantage of the man's temporary blindness and quickly tied his hands together and carefully placed the man down behind the desk on the floor, just as he had done five years ago. He was feeling déjà vu, but he continued on with his plan. A few minutes later, after taking a long route up the stairs to stay out of the camera's eye, he saw the second guard stationed outside the vault. This is the same one who had been shot and killed last time. Jackson felt suddenly out of breath seeing the innocent man there just doing his job. He closed his eyes and counted to ten again. He made sure his shirt was tucked in and then slowly walked around the corner and waited till the guard turned his head and stared at him. He was older than the other one. He had soft brown hair and a receding hairline. He wondered if he even knew what had happened in the exact same spot and scenario five years ago. He assumed he did, so he proceeded carefully and slowly. As he got closer, the guard appeared to scrutinize him closely. Jackson took another deep breath. He could read the man's nametag. His last name was Williams. He remembered the guy who had been killed five years ago. He was named Hibner. He thought about him every night in prison. One minute he had been alive and well, and the next he was dead laying in a pool of blood. Jackson forced himself to concentrate on Williams. He kept his eyes focused on the man's beady brown eyes and his gun hand just to be sure. He couldn't believe he was back here. He knew he was on camera now just as he had been five years before. He could still see the video from the courtroom playing in his mind, just as if he had seen it ten minutes ago. He carefully looked all around; nothing had changed. Everything was if it was just the same. It felt like time had stopped. Jackson slowly extended his hand towards the officer who smiled and did same. Jackson knew he had done it again. He had succeeded. The man looked him up and down. Jackson was wearing the first guard's uniform. It was a little loose on him, but it worked and Williams seem to be buying it.

"You must be the new guy." He had a low southern voice. Each word came out very precisely.

"That is me. I hope you received the email." Jackson felt the butterflies churn up deep inside his stomach. He had spoofed SITA's Director of Security's email and sent a message to the security guards that a new officer would be assigned due to the extra attention that the Jackson Stewart escape was getting.

"Got it earlier." He looked towards his computer. "I hope Joe didn't give you any problems at the main door."

"No. He already knew about it too. You guys are good."

"We try. We have a lot to guard in here. I understand you're going to be stationed on the other side." Jackson nodded. He had stated in the email to make sure he was placed outside of human resources. He knew he would have to work quickly. Once Williams found out about the other guard being tied up, he was in trouble. "Mr. Mascelli just said in the email to have you stand a post tonight and then tomorrow he'll set you up with a weapon and everything." Williams tapped his gun with his hand. Jackson followed him as they walked across the tiled floors to another hallway. He had never been past the safe area so he wasn't familiar with this part of the building. He took in everything and memorized it in his mind. They finally stopped outside a large wooden door with an HR sign on it. Jackson smiled. "Okay, so hang out here and make sure nobody comes or goes. There's no one in the building except us three." He handed Jackson a walkie-talkie. "You need anything call me or Joe. I'm G-1 and he's G-2 and now you're G-3. I'll call you when it's lunch." He looked all around. "I'm sorry I'm not showing you more, but Mr. Mascelli told me to just walk you over here and let you be. He had very strict orders."

"That's what he told me too. He said we'll figure everything out tomorrow and I'm only here temporarily, so I shouldn't be in your hair too long."

"Don't mind the help around here. Nothing ever happens here. Just stay awake and don't wander around. I'll check in with you in a little while. I feel bad to just leave you here."

"No worries. I need to get used to standing a post again." Jackson stomped his feet up and down."

"We'll get you a desk and computer eventually like me and Joe. I've got to get back. Mr. Mascelli doesn't like anyone away from the safe for more than a minute at a time. I usually just eat at my desk."

"Thanks Mr. Williams."

"Call me Sam except on the radio make sure you say G-1."

Jackson nodded and watched him walk away and disappear around the corner. A minute later, Jackson opened the locked door leading to Human Resources and logged into the main computer.

Chapter 49

As soon as he sat down, he felt the tensions overcome his head like a wave. Everything became blurry and made him feel sick to his stomach. He took a few deep breaths and then began typing as quickly as he could. He was able to access the direct records of past and current employees much more efficiently than he could from the motel laptop. There were thousands of records. It took him about thirty minutes, but he was able to find Braymond Reynolds and a home address. It was for a Braymond Reynold's Sr. He guessed it was his father's place since he had already been held captive at Braymond's house. He found a pen and paper and quickly wrote it down. He knew time was running out. He stood up too quickly and felt the wave of lightheadedness hit him again. He slowly walked towards the door and stepped into the hallway. His legs buckled underneath him when he saw Williams leaning against the wall where he was supposed to be standing.

"What are you doing in there? How did you get in there? It was locked?" Jackson could see the anger in his eyes. He had to think quickly or he was in trouble. He straightened himself out and forced his aching body to stand up straight.

"Sorry...I thought I heard something going on in there." Jackson pointed at the closed door behind him.

"Why didn't you call me on the radio?"

Jackson took another deep breath and tried to speak, but nothing came out.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I was just a little nervous going in there. Wasn't sure what I would find."

"How did you get in there? We didn't give you a set of keys yet." Jackson watched Williams try and turn the locked doorknob.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to wait if there was someone in there, so I just used a credit card." Jackson tapped his back pocket.

"We're going to need to file a report. Let's go take a look." Jackson carefully followed Williams as they entered the same room he had just left. It was a large room with twenty or so cubicles and two offices with closed doors. Jackson eyed the computer in the first cubicle that Williams walked right by. "What did you hear?"

"It sounded like someone was rifling through drawers or something." Jackson knew he had to leave. He had what he needed.

"Did you check the offices?"

Jackson shook his head. "No, I just listened at the doors and didn't hear anything." Jackson watched as Williams opened both doors and then came back out.

"I don't know what you heard, but you need to stay out of the offices and stay where Mr. Mascelli told you to stay. I'm getting ready to take lunch so I'm going to call Joe to cover for me and keep an eye on you." Jackson watched as he began calling to G-2 on his walkie, but there was no response. "This doesn't make sense. He always answers." Jackson saw the worried response growing on his face. "I need to go down there. You stay here and don't leave until I get back." Jackson nodded and waited till Williams was out of sight and then began running the opposite direction. He had to get out of the building. He knew there had to be another way out. No matter the security level, fire codes would ensure there was another exit. He kept turning corners and running by more offices. He found another staircase and began descending when he heard Williams calling him on the radio. He didn't answer. A minute later, a loud piercing alarm began sounding all around him. Time was up. He reached the far end of the building and was about to break a window when he heard footsteps. Someone was close by. He turned down his radio and ducked down behind a desk just as Joe, the front security walked by wearing his dark-blue sweatshirt and a frown on his face. He had his gun out. Jackson turned the volume all the way down on his radio. He waited till Joe was gone and began out in the hallway again looking for a door. He thought he could hear sirens in the distant, but it was hard to tell with the alarm sounding so loudly. He slowly took off in the opposite direction of Joe knowing one mistake, and he would be shot. Williams was probably on the other side of the building aiming for him as well. He turned up the volume slightly hoping he would hear something, but all he could hear was the alarm ringing and the distinct sound of police sirens that he knew were now close enough to make his escape almost impossible. He imagined there would be dogs released, and his chances of escape would be nil. He ran towards the front of the building and somehow managed to find the main entrance. It was empty. He arrived at the desk just as two officers arrived at the front door. He opened the door for them, and they looked him up and down and then asked him for a description. He described a man wearing a dark-blue sweatshirt and pants. The officers immediately blew by him with their guns drawn. Jackson continued outside waving in more officers through the front door. He quickly made his way to the parking lot and started up the white Ford and waited till two more police cars pulled into the front of the parking lot and slowly made his way out the side entrance avoiding the cameras. He finally took another deep breath and rolled down the window and vomited several times. It was too close. His body was starting to surrender to the amount of stress he was placing on it. He had to end this soon. He stopped in a vacant lot a few miles away and unfolded Braymond's address.

Dever awoke to the sound of his iPhone ringing. It was the Agent Mitchell. He informed him that something had happened at SITA, and all signs were pointing that it was Stewart. Dever slammed the phone down on the bed and quickly got dressed. A minute later, he woke up a sleepy-eyed Timmons and soon thereafter they were driving towards SITA headquarters. Dever was too mad to speak, so they rode in silence. Timmons got the hint and kept his heavy eyes on the road. They rolled into the parking lot full of flashing blue lights and Dever quickly strode through the front door of SITA. He immediately encountered a police officer, and a much-frazzled looking half-dressed security officer who the police officer pointed him to. Dever sat down opposite the man.

"So tell me exactly what happened?"

The officer leaned forward from the side of the desk. His dark pupils were dancing all around. "I was seated here watching the door when suddenly I got jumped."

"What do you mean jumped? Didn't you see him enter the building?"

He shook his head. "No, he must have come in another entrance."

"And how would he do that without a key? What aren't you telling me here?" A minute later, another man dressed in a security uniform approached the desk along with a short heavy-set man who resembled Steven Seagall stopped in front of them.

The heavy-set man stuck out his arm. "I'm Dan Mascelli head of security. We met a few days ago. Been seeing you a lot on TV."

Dever shook his hand firmly. "Been busy."

"This is Officer Williams." He pointed towards the man standing next to him. He had a friendly face with a slightly receding hairline. "He was the one who placed Stewart down the hall. Says he received an email from me telling him I had authorized another guard and it had explicit orders."

Dever closed his eyes for a second. "Did you send an email Mr. Mascelli?"

"No I did not. Somehow I was hacked. I have my network security guy on the way in now. He should be able to clear this up. It wasn't from me."

Dever nodded and looked back to the first security guard who was standing up again. "Any idea how he could have gotten in here? And could he still be here?"

"First of all, we got him on camera leaving out the main entrance you just came in. Walked right past the police." Dever shook his head. He looked at the security desk. "As far as getting in here, he would need an access code which I am trying to run down now. Once Steve gets here we should be able to get more information. He's the network security guy."

Dever looked at his watch. Any idea what he was after?"

Mascelli looked at Williams. "Caught him coming out of human resources right Williams?"

"Yes sir, but he had nothing on him as far as I could tell."

"Did you search him?" Dever asked.

Williams shook his head. "No, he said he was just following up on a suspicious sound."

"And you believed him?"

"No, that's why I went in there and took a look around. Everything seemed normal and then I found Jones tied up here at the desk without his uniform and I knew something was up. I untied Jones and we went back to where he was supposed to be and he was gone. Then we called the police and Mr. Mascelli." Mascelli nodded.

"Can you take me to the human resources room?"

"Sure...follow me. You guys stay here and when Steve gets here send him our way." The two officers nodded. Dever followed Mascelli up the stairs. They stopped near the safe area that Dever immediately recognized from the video. "I want to show you the footage first so you can confirm it's your guy. Dever watched as he logged into a computer and a minute later, there was Stewart in a security guard uniform walking into the same area they were in now. He watched as he approached Williams and they shook hands. He made it look so easy. "You're guy is good. He fooled Williams and he's been in this business for almost twenty years. The email is what did the trick though. Is Stewart a computer whiz?"

"That's what we believe." Dever followed him down a long hall and around a corner to the door with Human Resources on it. They both walked in and Dever looked around expecting to see file cabinets, but instead he just saw cubicles and computers. "Where are all the records kept?"

"On the computers in here, they are the only ones that can access them." They both looked to the door when it opened and in walked a guy in his late twenties dressed in athletic wear. He had short curly brown hair reminding Dever of a teddy bear.

"Hey Steve, this is Warden Dever. We need to find out what happened in here on the computers and also how this guy was able to access our computers, entrances and send an email using my address." Dever saw Mascelli frown. Steve walked over to the nearest computer and quickly logged in. He began quickly typing on the keyboard. Dever watched intently.

"Okay. I got something. He accessed the door using Marla's access code."

"Marla...how would he get that?"

"I don't know. It looks like it was just random and then he logged in here using Steven's username and password."

"Can you tell what he was checking?" Dever asked trying to look over his shoulder.

"Give me a second. I'm checking on your email Mr. Mascelli." He tapped a few more keys. "I can't tell how your email was used. It just shows an email sent by you earlier. I'll have to look into that some more. I'm going to freeze all the email accounts for now...if that's okay?"

"Yes. Please do. We can't have fake emails going out."

"Okay, I've just pulled up the log on the HR server and he accessed a Braymond Reynold's file. He used to work here around five years ago."

Dever felt his stomach lurch. "You said five years ago?"

"Yep. He was part of our money resource team. He helped in getting the money resources to where it needed to go." He looked at Mascelli. "That's all he looked at. It looks like he scanned his file, but the only thing he pulled up was his home address."

"Can you give that to me?" Steve looked at Mascelli again who nodded and then he wrote it down on a small sheet of paper and handed it to Dever. Dever thanked him and ran out the door. He nodded at Mitchell who was entering the building as they were leaving. A minute later, he was seated next to Timmons who was typing in the address on their GPS.

Chapter 50

Jackson headed in the direction of the address. He was familiar with the area, so he knew what roads to take. He was happy when he spotted a twenty-four hour McDonald's. He pulled through the drive though and enjoyed a large burger and fries. He instantly felt much better with something in his stomach. He was almost there. He knew he was close to rescuing his wife and daughter and live happily ever-after. He just had to hang in for a little longer. He took a long look at Stephanie's picture before he started the Ford up. He was only about five minutes away. He could feel their presence as he drove down the secluded small dark tree-lined road that held many average-sized colonial homes. He checked the numbers again and made sure he had the correct address and then pulled the car alongside the dark road in front of one of the houses and nudged it between two other cars. Just as he was about to get out, he saw a dark Crown Vic cruise past him and pull in the driveway of Reynold's home. He watched in amazement as Warden Dever bounded from the car along with the same man he had seen at the restaurant a few nights ago. They both had their weapons out, and he watched as Dever went towards the front and the other man to the rear of the house. He so wanted to run over there and rescue his family but all he could do was sit frozen several hundred yards away and wait on his destiny. He watched as Dever knocked on the door. A minute later, the other man came around the front. They both stood in front of the door talking and pointing. Finally, Dever pointed at the other man, and he kicked the front door open. Jackson watched them both disappear into the house; the front door left wide open. A minute later, a police car showed up and pulled up alongside the Crown Vic. Two uniforms disappeared inside the house through the same door Dever had. Jackson lowered himself some more in the car leaving only the top of his head peering out over the dashboard and waited. He wasn't sure what to expect, but he immediately knew there was no one at the home when Dever came out with a look of disappointment on his face and the other man following behind him trying to keep up. Another police car pulled into the driveway. Dever ignored them and stepped back into the Crown Vic. A minute later, they backed out of the driveway and sped past his White Ford without even a glance. Jackson stayed in place for a half-hour or so waiting for the officers to leave, but it didn't seem like anything was happening they were just remaining in place. He finally edged the car out and slowly pulled out onto the road and headed back towards the motel. He parked the White Ford in the usual spot and slowly walked towards the small office. He was happy to see Ben still behind the desk. He handed him the keys and thanked him and headed for his room. He couldn't believe it was 3:00 AM. He knew he needed to come up with a new plan, but first he needed to get some rest. He woke up several hours later to the usual soft knocks on his door. He slowly walked to the door and smiled seeing Jessie standing outside with two large cups of Starbucks coffee. He let her in.

"I figured this might come in more use after the night you had." She handed him a cup. "Ben told me."

"Yeah, I was out. I'm just getting restless holed up here. Not that I don't like it here."

She smiled. "Why do I feel like there is a lot more to you than you are telling me Charles...or is it Braymond." Jackson looked down and took a sip of the hot coffee. "I'm just kidding. Please just keep using the car as long as you need it. Just be careful out there, especially late at night. At least the frat boys didn't keep you awake. Ben got complaints all night."

Jackson smiled. "Yeah, I saw a few of them out and about when I got back. Some of them looked a little wobbly."

"A little? Apparently they decided to have a water polo match in the pool last night at around 1:00AM. Poor Ben had to break it up. I wish he had called us. I think one of us will be staying here tonight, so if you're out again we might see each other."

"I hope things will be quieter for all of us. Thanks for the coffee." She handed him a small brown bag that he quickly opened. "And the bagels."

"Anytime."

Jackson looked at the clock. It said 6:30 AM. He slept maybe three hours. "How come you're off to such an early start today?" He smiled as he said it.

"Today is the big day. We have a contractor coming by to give us a quote to rebuild us into a first class place. I heard you saw the picture in the office."

"Looks really impressive, I hope it works out."

"Money's going to be the issue. I don't think we have anywhere near enough."  
"I will definitely spread the good word. This is the best place I have ever stayed including the best service and the best manager ever."

"Oh stop." She tapped him on the shoulder with her fist. "I think we need to take a look at that bandage again." Jackson nodded and placed his coffee down and finished chewing the bagel. A few minutes later, Jessie had the bandage off and was examining the cuts.

"How's it looking?"

"I think we need to remove the stitches. Why don't you go to the ER?"

"I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I just can't."

She started laughing. "Are we a little scared?"

Jackson quietly laughed as well. "Something like that."

"Okay...don't you move; I will be right back."

Jackson remained on the bed and flipped on the TV. He scanned through the news stations and didn't see anything that Michelle and Stephanie had been found so he confirmed that the house was empty, but he needed to find them and soon. He hit the power switch when he heard her key the door. She had a small medical kit in her hands. He watched as she walked back towards his ankle and started removing items.

"Don't worry tough guy, it won't hurt that much." She smiled. Jackson lay back as she cut and pulled. He winced a few times till she softly grabbed his hand and squeezed. It felt so good and natural. He didn't want to let it go. He thought of Michelle till she let go and finished up placing a new fresh bandage on it. After she was done she sat next to him, and somehow their hands ended up touching each other, and before he knew it, they were holding hands and kissing. He didn't want to stop, but the knock on the door quickly pulled them away from each other. They both stared at each other for a few seconds before Jackson held her back and looked through the peephole. He instantly relaxed when he saw her sister and opened the door. A few minutes later, they both said good-bye and left Jackson standing there not sure what had just happened. He wasn't sure how he felt. He was surprised he had felt no guilt. He quickly dismissed what had happened from his mind and took a shower and dressed, then headed to the office and borrowed the keys from Ben. Ben said the two ladies were meeting with the contractor. He thought he heard voices behind him, but he headed towards the Ford and made his way back to Braymond Reynold's house.

Michelle looked at the pancakes caked with thick maple syrup that Braymond had delivered to her and Michelle. She didn't sleep more than an hour or two, but she was happy Stephanie had slept soundly. She watched her eat the pancakes.

"Mommy, these don't look like ours. They have seeds on them."

"Shhhh..." Michelle placed her finger to her mouth. "Those are blueberries sweetheart." Mr. Bray got us special ones. Michelle tried to eat, but she had no appetite. She just watched Michelle pick up pieces of pancake and swallow them. "Don't forget to drink your orange juice that Mr. Bray was nice enough to get." She watched Michelle look at Bray who was standing next to the bed that they had slept in watching Michelle. She knew Michelle was still nervous, and she didn't want her to start shaking again. She softly placed her arm on her shoulder to make sure she stayed calm and ate. She knew Stephanie had to stay nourished. She forced herself to take a bite despite the nausea working its way up her esophagus.

Chapter 51

Jackson parked the Ford in the same spot he had last night. Both cars were still parked there so he pulled in between them. The police cars were gone, so he causally stepped out of the car and made his way down to the house. He was aware of people coming and going, probably to work he thought, but he continued on like he knew what he was doing and where he was going. It always worked. He entered the property and went around back where the Warden's man had gone last night. There was a back door, but he didn't want to break any glass or cause too much commotion after what happened the other night when he broke into his own house. He knew he had to get in the house. He not only had to check for himself, but he also needed to look around for any clues that could lead him to his family. He thought about the kiss with Jessie again, but then forced himself to block it from his mind as he crept towards the front of the house. He tried the windows on the side, but they were locked so he made it to the front door and stood in front of it. He looked behind him and all around before he made his move. He kicked the door, just as they had done last night except for instead of just opening, the frame near the lock splintered causing much damage. Jackson frowned but he still entered. He noticed the deadbolt had been closed which had caused the damage. He kept going. He entered into a dark living room with standard beige paint on the walls and barely used off-color furniture. It looked like someone just purchased furniture because they had to. They put no work into matching anything or setting anything up in any sort of order. Jackson walked through the living room and entered a dining room that had a dark mahogany table with matching chairs. There was no other furniture in the room, just a few pictures on the wall of various flowers and scenery, nothing fancy. He breezed into the kitchen and was not surprised that it was decorated similarly. He kept going. He was looking for any trace of Michelle or Stephanie, so far there was nothing. It was if someone just existed here but didn't live. He pictured his house in his mind. All the personal touches he and Michelle added. There were no family photos, no personal effects, just furniture and generic fixtures. He quickly scanned the rest of the kitchen and then slowly made his way up the stairs. He thought of the family pictures he and Michelle had demanded they get every few months. They wanted to document every change in Stephanie. He couldn't wait for the next one. He thought of Jessie and the kiss again. He reached the top of the stairs. There were three bedrooms. He quickly walked through all three. Two were decorated with twin beds and a dresser full of empty drawers. The other was the master with a large king-sized bed in the center of the room. There were two dressers and a large mirror hanging between the two of them. He stood in front of the mirror and stared back at the man looking at him. It didn't look like the man he had known all his life. It looked like a disheveled lost soul like you might see on a street corner holding a sign looking for handouts. He didn't like the way he looked. He stepped back and stopped when he saw the access to the attic on the ceiling above the dresser. It didn't look like it was disturbed so just maybe the police didn't check it, but it probably meant no one else has been up there either. Jackson jumped up on the dresser and nudged the panel open. He felt a wave of dust strike his face. He quickly wiped at his eyes till he could see again. He stuck his head into the opening and almost gagged when he smelled the moldy stale aroma. He looked around at the dimly lit space and nearly fell off the dresser when he saw the body. It looked like a man's body, but he wasn't sure. He had to check it out. He felt the sweat building up on his forehead and the tension increase in his body as he climbed up in to the attic. The closer he got the worse it smelled. He placed his hand over his mouth and arrived over the body quickly relieved it was a man and not Michelle or Stephanie. He could see a pool of blood near the man's chest area and a stack of rumpled paperwork near his feet. He quickly examined the body and saw it was an elderly man; probably Braymond Sr. He looked at the papers, careful not to touch the blood. They appeared to be bills and mail. There were all the normal ones, utilities, mortgage, doctor's, bills all addressed to Braymond Sr. at this same address. He rummaged through the rest of them and didn't see anything of importance till he saw another small stack further in and closer to the blood. He accidently smudged his hand on the blood. It hadn't dried yet. He wiped the blood off on his shirt. There were additional bills with another address, a Jennifer Reynolds. Braymond Sir's wife, they were divorced. He grabbed the top one, climbed out of the attic and jumped down from the dresser and onto the floor. The address was only a few minutes away. He felt the excitement building as he stepped outside until he heard sirens getting louder quickly. He ran as quickly as he could towards the Ford. He saw a man and woman directly across the street outside on their front steps pointing at him. He kept running. His leg was beginning to ache, but he reached the Ford, climbed inside and pulled out just as saw the first police car coming directly down the road towards him. He tried to think of his next move, but at the last second, the police car turned and headed into the driveway. He saw the man and woman run down the driveway and point at him in the car. Jackson pulled out seeing the couple waving frantically at him. He could see the officer running back towards his parked car. Jackson stepped on the gas and gave the old Ford everything it had until he saw another cruiser turn down the same road. He stepped on the gas some more. He was borderline losing control, but he gripped the wheel as tightly as he could as he pulled onto Route 236. There was the usual heavy dose of traffic, but he blew by everyone in the left lane. He could hear the sirens coming behind him, but he continued to gun the engine until it conked out and died right there in the middle of Route 236.

Dever knew as soon as he saw Mitchell running to him in the hotel restaurant something was up. He gulped the rest of his coffee swallowing the remaining food.

"We got a problem."

Dever quickly stood up. "What is it?"

"The house you went to last night. Stewart was just there and we got a dead body." Dever signaled for Timmons who was just entering the restaurant.

"How do we know it was him?"

"Witnesses across the street and we already have his fingerprints being confirmed on a field test, one a bloody one."

"Where was the body found?"

"In the attic." Dever tried to picture the house as he informed Timmons of the situation and followed him out towards the parking lot. They would meet Mitchell and his team there who were assisting the police process the scene. They arrived at the house amidst what looked like hundreds of police cars waking up the sleepy quiet street. Dever noticed all the neighbors gathered outside on their front lawns wondering what had happened. He brushed inside past the police officers and back into the familiar house. He went directly upstairs where Mitchell was already in full discussion with a police captain about where and how the body was found. Dever insisted he wanted to see the body, but a large mustached officer with Captain's bars on his uniform was denying anyone access except for those processing the scene. A minute later, Dever saw a woman's gloved hands handing down a stack of paperwork from the attic.

"What is that?"

That Captain grabbed the paperwork with his large gloved hands and placed it in a bag. He separated one sheet with a bloody fingerprint on it and placed it into another bag.

"I want to see that one." Dever reached out and tried to grab the bag from the Captain who sneered at him, but he got the other one instead. He stepped away and read through a mortgage statement that had been torn in half. "I need to see the other half, the one with the print."

"That is evidence." That Captain answered. He reached out and grabbed the bag from Dever's hand.

"I need to keep that. I think it might be important."

"Not as important as solving this murder." The Captain tucked both bags inside his jacket.

"Please Captain. We are trying to track down Stewart and there is a reason he grabbed that one. That was the only one with a print on it right?"

The Captain reluctantly nodded. "After we process everything, it will be available."

Dever stomped his foot and looked to Mitchell for help, but he was talking into his cell phone and disappeared down the stairs. "Just let me take a look." Dever wasn't going to beg. He tried to reach for the edge of the bag sticking out of his coat.

"You do that again. I'll have you arrested for interfering with a crime scene.

The Captain pointed towards the stairs. Dever held back his anger and trampled down the stairs and saw Mitchell speaking to a man and woman. He listened as they described man resembling Stewart kicking in the front door, and then five minutes later bolting back out of it and driving away in an old white Ford sedan that had apparently just been picked up by the police. He was trying to get more information but everyone was running toward their cars so he and Timmons followed them onto Route 236. He saw the white Ford parked on the shoulder. A group of four or so officers were approaching it from the back with their guns out. Dever slowly got out of the car and followed behind. It was difficult to hear with the screaming and shouting as well as the passing cars but he could hear the officers giving commands, but no one was responding in the car. Finally, two officers ran up to the windows and called out that it was clear. Dever quickly turned around slammed his fist into the nearest police car causing one of the officers to turn around. He looked back and shook his head in frustration. Jackson was long gone. He knew the officers would check the area, but they wouldn't find him. He was too smart. Dever felt his insides burning up as he dropped back into the crown Vic and directed Timmons to the police station.

Chapter 52

Jackson couldn't believe his luck was still hanging on when the Ford broke down and the police cars passed right on by. He quickly jumped out abandoning it on the side of the road. He ran into a large garden style apartment complex and found the leasing office where he was able to call a cab. He was currently on his way back to the motel. He wasn't sure what he was going to tell Jessie about the car. He knew he had been pushing it too hard, but it had done the job and got him away. He was really getting tired of being on the run. He needed to find Michelle and Stephanie. He felt the piece of paper in his pocket with the address. He just had to come up with a plan. He couldn't get the kiss with Jessie out of his mind. He wondered if Michelle had ever had the urge the last five years. He quickly dismissed that thought as the cab dropped him off across the street from Manny's. He would walk the rest of the way. He watched the cab disappear as he stepped into Manny's and ordered two cheeseburger meals. The waitress scurried into the back and handed one of the cooks the order. Another man who must be close to sixty, overweight, and with a large beer-belly talked to the cook. Jackson figured that must be Manny. He had a greasy but nice face from working in the diner for many years. Jackson watched as the news broke on a small CRT TV about the discovery of Braymond Reynolds Sr.'s body. The news station was showing chopper footage of the house surrounded by helicopters. Apparently, he had been a high school athletic director and soccer coach who was beloved by the community. He listened as they said their main suspect was Jackson Stewart. Jackson cringed when he heard his name. It sounded so foreign coming from the small set. He couldn't believe it. They switched to a shot of Warden Dever leaving the house and waving his hand with a no comment sign.

"...Sir...Sir." Jackson quickly snapped his head in the direction of the waitress and quickly looked away from the TV. "Your order is ready." Jackson thanked her as she handed him the brown paper bag. He breathed normally again when she turned towards the TV and they were talking about the weather. He made the fifteen-minute walk towards the motel and was surprised at how well his leg was feeling. He needed to thank Jessie, but first he had to let her know about the car. He had no idea what her reaction was going to be when he walked into the office and found her alone behind the counter with a huge smile on her face when she saw the food.

"Oh Charles...you didn't have to do that." Jackson smiled and placed the bag in front of her on the counter.

"It's the least I could do especially after what just happened?"

He watched her face grow in concern. Her eyebrows came together almost forming a perfect arc that he couldn't stop looking at. "Are you talking about what happened earlier?" She looked down. "I'm sorry it was so out of line. I should have never done that. It just came over me. Please forgive me."

Jackson softly grabbed her hand. "Believe me; I had just as much to do with it as you did. It's not that."

"What could it be?"

"It's the car."

"The car?

"The one you've been letting me borrow. It broke down about fifteen minutes from here."

Jessie reached out with her other hand and held his shoulder. "Oh, I'm so sorry. How did you get here?"

"I took a cab."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm the one that is sorry. It happened while I was driving it. I'll have it taken to a garage and get it repaired. I promise."

"It's okay. That car was left here by a guest a few years ago and he never came back for it. We found the keys in his room."

"You are the nicest person ever."

"Customer service Charles...customer service. Now eat that burger. I insist. You didn't walk from Manny's now did you?" Jackson nodded. "How's that leg?"

"It's actually doing much better thanks to you."

"Not for much longer if you keep walking on it like that. No more hikes I take it right?"

"No more."

"Please come around and join me back here. I know it's not the nicest, but one day we'll get there. I promise." Jackson slowly walked around the corner and sat down in the chair next to her in the cramped space. Their legs touched but neither of them bothered to move them throughout the whole meal. They both looked up when the front door opened and a guest walked in. Jackson quickly stood up leaving Jessie to the guest. He whispered he was just going to his room for a little bit and he would be right back. Jessie nodded and they clasped hands neither wanting to let go. Jackson smiled and finally let go and forced his mind on Michelle. It was time to get her and Stephanie back. He slowly walked to his room thinking about his plan. Behind him, two police cars pulled into the parking lot after tracing the white Ford.

Dever and Timmons pulled into the police station parking lot and parked in a visitor spot. Dever entered the facility and demanded a young sergeant at the front desk to let the Assistant Chief know he was here to see him. A minute later, the chief came out of a side door and waved Dever to follow him. They walked down a long hallway decorated with police officers performing various duties from directing traffic to performing boat patrols. Dever ignored them all. He sat down in one of the leather chairs in the Chief's vast mahogany office and waited for his complete attention and then he leaned forward.

"Chief, thanks for seeing me again."

"Are you here to tell me how my officers lost your man Stewart again?"

Dever watched the cars fly past the window behind the chief. "No, I think Stewart can get past anyone. The guys like a damn ghost. What I need is to get a look at a piece of the evidence that was recovered today."

"You're talking about at the Reynold's house where the body of Mr. Reynolds was recovered that Stewart murdered?"

"Yes, but I wouldn't be so sure Stewart murdered him."

"So now you're defending him." He clicked on his computer next to him. It looks like we have his bloody fingerprints at the scene. I think that's a pretty solid clue."

"That's the piece of evidence I need to look at. The captain at the house wouldn't let me see it."

"It's an active investigation. Maybe you're not familiar with police procedure, but this is a murder investigation Warden and we need to process every piece of evidence."

Dever felt his heart pumping faster. He took a deep breath. "I understand, but there is a good chance that piece of paper may hold the clue where he is headed next."

"I don't understand Warden. I thought Stewart took his family hostage and was holed up somewhere or long gone in Mexico."

"I'm not sure Stewart has his family."

The Chief shook his head. "What? You are really confusing me. If you want to see the evidence, come back here in a couple of hours, and I'll see what I can do. Maybe seeing it will make you realize this guy is a murderer." Dever quickly stood up. "Whoa. Hold on." The chief was looking at his computer screen. "It looks like they have traced the car that he fled the scene in to a motel in Arlington." The chief pulled out a sheet of paper and copied the address and handed it to Dever. "Maybe you'll get lucky after all." Dever nodded and ran out the door and back down the hallway into the waiting car.

Chapter 53

Jessie couldn't hold back the tears any more as the two officers ran from her office towards Jackson's room. They quietly knocked on the two rooms next door and evacuated the guests then led them into the parking lot for safety reasons. They counted to three and unlocked the door with the key provided by Jessie. The first officer entered the room going right, while the second one went left. Their fingers were on the triggers ready to fire at the first movement. They were dealing with a murderer. As soon as they entered, they knew something was off. The room was empty except for the gaping hole through the large window in the back. There was a wooden chair lying on the floor next to it. Both officers quickly ran outside and around the back, while more sirens were wailing closer. Jackson was crouched behind a row of bushes separating the parking lot from the office building next door. He knew it was just a matter of time until the place was flooded with officers, so he had to make his move. He couldn't believe it when he heard Ben's voice outside his door telling him the police were in the office looking for him. At first, he didn't believe it but when looked out the window and saw the two cruisers he knew he had to act quickly. The back window was the quickest. He nicked his arm up a little bit, but it was already starting to slow down. He peered around the bush and could see one of the officers coming from the left side of the building, so he knew the other one would be coming from the other side. He had seen too many crime shows. He was right, a few seconds later the other one appeared. He was much closer than the other. They both were holding their guns aimed forward and appeared ready to shoot. He had to execute his plan. He wondered how Jessie reacted to finding out who he was and why did Ben warn him? He had so many questions, but no time to answer them because the officer was almost right on top of him and there was no way he was going to miss seeing him. He waited till the officer started checking parked cars and he took off running towards the office building parking lot. As soon as he entered the lot and rounded a corner, he saw Ben waving to him in an older model pickup truck. Jackson ran towards him and he and Ben slowly pulled out of the parking lot. Jackson looked back and there was no sign of the officer. He wondered if they even saw him. He could still hear the sirens and thought he saw the Warden's Crown Vic drive by, but he wasn't so sure. He looked over at Ben who was driving calmly away from the motel.

"Thanks Ben. I owe you. First, you warned me and then you said to meet you in the parking lot. I wasn't sure you would show."

Ben kept his eyes focused on the busy road ahead. "Hey I wasn't always this guy. I used to get in trouble a lot. Plus, I knew who you were the first night. I've been following your story real close. I figure a guy like you could teach me a lot."

"I'm not sure you want to know what I know. It hasn't worked out so great."

Ben shook his head. "I've been reading up on you. You have done some really cool stuff and you documented everything."

"For the most part, except for my last assignment. Hey does Jessie know?"

"No, and even if she did, she wouldn't care. She really digs you. She was crying when she had to give those cops the key to your room. They didn't even see me. I was in the back. I knew they would be coming sooner or later. That's why I been working so much lately."

"Like I said I owe you, all of you."

"Just teach me what you know and we're even."

"You got it. I just have one more thing to do first."

Ben looked at him oddly. "I need to get my family back."

"You know they are saying on the news you kidnapped them. I knew they were lying because I saw you every day without them."

"They were. I don't have them but I think I know where they are."

Jackson shook his head. "Ben you've done way too much already. You could already go to jail for what you did."

"Just tell me where to go. We're going to get your family. Then you can teach me." Jackson reluctantly pulled out the address from his pocket and began telling Ben where to turn.

Dever and Timmons pulled into the parking lot of the motel. It was you typical motel with a long row of one story rooms, but it had a little more upscale appeal than Dever was used to seeing. He stepped into the office and saw a pretty woman with dark hair seated behind the counter. She looked distressed and had obviously been crying. He knew he had to proceed with caution. He could see the flashing lights from the police cruisers in the parking lot reflecting in the large mirror above the counter.

He slowly reached his hand over the counter. "Hi, I'm Warden Dever and I'm looking for Jackson Stewart. I understand he was staying here."

He watched her face tighten up as she tried to speak. Dever knew there was something more going on. He looked all around. He noticed the TV on behind her tuned to the news. They were showing Stewart's picture and the white Ford. He pointed at the screen. "That your car?" She nodded. "I'm sorry ma'am we'll get it back for you after the police are done. I'm sorry about all this. I know you had no idea. What room was he in?" He had to lean in as she spoke. She was barely whispering. "Did you have any contact with him?"

She wiped a tear from her face and nodded. "Yes, I let him borrow the car...and a laptop. I had no idea that's who he was." She wiped more tears from her face.

Dever gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "It's okay ma'am he is a very convincing guy. Actually, the smartest guy I have ever encountered, and let me tell you ma'am I have run into a lot of smart people." He let go of her shoulder and took a step back near the far wall. "Anything else you want to tell me?" He knew there was more. He just wasn't sure if she was going to say anything else until she was ready. She shook her head no. He thanked her and headed in the direction of the room. As soon as he entered, he saw the painkillers, antibiotics and the red soaked bandages in the bathroom trash can. He immediately left the room and went back to the office. He saw the woman look up removing her hands from her face.

"What can you tell me about his injury?"

She looked down at the counter. "His leg was badly cut up. It looked like someone carved him like a piece of meat and I used to be a nurse, so I've seen it all, but nothing like this."

"On his leg?" Dever closed his eyes.

"Right above his ankle." She pointed at her feet. "He went to the ER for it."

"I saw the pills. Braymond Reynold's name was on the bottle."

"He said that was his real name but he goes by Charles." Dever felt his head begin to swirl as he tried to process everything. He stepped back into Jackson's room and sat on the bed taking everything in. There were hardly any personal effects besides the pills and bandages. Dever watched the technician scoop up the laptop and place it in a bag. He knew he needed to get the report on that. He made a mental note to talk to the Assistant Chief about that when he went back this afternoon. He couldn't believe Stewart had been holed up here all this time. How did someone not recognize him? He knew the lady had more information than she let on. He wondered if there was anyone else here who knew about him. He slammed his foot watching the technician bag up the pill bottles. How was Braymond Reynolds involved in this whole thing? He must be helping out Stewart, but how? Dever got up and left the room. He walked by the office again but the woman was still in tears, so he found Timmons and directed him to their next destination.

Chapter 54

Jackson led Ben down a small suburban road leading to another typical Fairfax County residential neighborhood. Most of the homes looked similar only distinguishable by different colors and landscaping. Jackson had Ben park a few houses up from the destination. He could see the house with the address. It was a dark-blue small colonial. There were no cars in the driveway, and it appeared to have no activity. Jackson knew he had to go inside. He just hoped he wouldn't find another body. He told Ben he would be back shortly. He was going to go check things out. Ben tried to come with him, but Jackson convinced him he was more important staying with the car and letting him know if anyone was coming. Jackson casually walked down the side of the street. It was mid-day so most of the people were most likely off at work, leaving the occasional stay-at-home mom tending to her children, but Jackson didn't see anyone so he continued on. He looked behind him and could see Ben leaning over the wheel watching him in the rearview mirror. He liked the young man and owed him more than he could ever know, but he didn't want to get him more involved than he needed to. Jackson stopped when he arrived at the next door home. It was almost an identical house, just colored a dark greenish color with black shingles outlining the windows. Jackson scanned the house quickly and didn't see anyone or anything suspicious near the windows so he continued on. He was less than fifty yards from the house. He could feel something in his gut telling him this was the place. He paused at the bottom of the driveway and circled around the side of the yard and made his way through the well-manicured lawn towards the house and out of view from the street. He noticed the perfectly-placed flowers and bushes along the side of the house making it difficult to get near the windows. He carefully stepped over a row of low hedges so he could peer into the windows. There were lights on inside and he thought he could hear the sounds of a TV. He felt his pulse quicken. He knew he needed to remain calm, so he took a few deep breaths through his nose and then looked in again. There was recent activity. He was looking into the kitchen. He could see dishes in the sink and a pizza box on the counter. He continued on and made his way towards the back. When he reached the corner he saw the patio equipped with a brand new stainless steel grill and upscale outdoor furniture. Whoever was living here wasn't holding back on decorating. Above the patio was a walk-out sliding glass door. He tried to peer in but couldn't see anything. He counted to three and darted across the backyard and over the patio leaving him on the other side. There was a large window in front of him that he looked in and could see the TV hanging on the wall. It was tuned to a children's channel. He couldn't contain his excitement. He had checked on the computer and Braymond's mother had no grandchildren, just Braymond and a single daughter living somewhere overseas. He took one more look throughout the entire floor through the window and didn't see anyone. It was an open floor plan allowing him to see all the way to the front of the house. Feeling satisfied, he inched his way towards the sliding glass door and tugged. It wasn't locked. He couldn't believe it. He slowly slid the door about two feet open and slipped inside. He felt like a cat bugler, but he didn't care because as soon as he stepped inside he saw a pair of shoes that a little girl would wear. His excitement level went up another notch. He quietly closed the door behind him, so far so good. He tiptoed into the living room area and glanced at the TV. It was one of those large ones, at least seventy inches. The room was decorated with plush leather couches and antique tables. Each picture on the wall was hung up precisely, as if it was done by a museum curator. Jackson moved on to the kitchen. He quickly made his way through it not seeing anything other than the dishes and the pizza box and stepped into the dining room where his eyes locked onto several framed pictures of Braymond with his family. He recognized the father from the body. He studied the picture of his mom. She looked like a lovely lady with long golden hair and full of life; he hoped he didn't find her dead body upstairs. He continued on around to the front of the house and peered out the window. He smiled seeing Ben still parked up the street. He walked past the stairs and entered a small den. It was lined with cultural books and art from all over the world. Jackson was fascinated by the quality of works, but he turned around and headed back to the bottom of the stairs. He took another deep breath and began walking up until he heard a door open and close above him. Jackson wasn't sure what to do. He had no weapon, and he would be defenseless against Braymond. He didn't want to walk in on his mom either. If she heard something, she could call the police and he would be trapped. Ben wouldn't have time to warn him. The signal was if Jackson heard the horn honk twice, someone was coming and he needed to get out. He hadn't heard anything yet. His legs started moving automatically like he was a puppet being controlled by some unknown puppeteer, and before he knew it he was halfway up the stairs. As he approached the top, he could hear TV sounds again. It sounded like the same channel that was on down stairs. It was coming from one of the rooms down the hall. There was a bathroom at the top of the stairs to the right and three bedrooms he assumed to the left. He quickly peered into the bathroom and didn't see anything so he turned left and headed down the hall. The first two doors were open, and he looked in not seeing anything or anyone. He stopped outside the closed door. All he could hear were the sounds of the TV. He had to continue no matter what; he had come this far and he had to know. He closed his eyes and thought about all the images and memories of Michelle and Stephanie, and then he plunged through the doorway stepping into a master bedroom. Suddenly, everything became so blurry and noisy all at once that Jackson couldn't hear or see anything. There was loud screaming and shouting coming from all directions. Jackson closed his eyes and covered his ears and then everything became silent, almost blissfully silent. Standing in front of him were Michelle and Stephanie. They were unharmed and beautiful as ever appearing like two angels. Jackson was stunned and silent. He couldn't move or talk. It was if it were all a dream. He had found them. He felt the rush of tears flowing from his eyes as he reached out for them and embraced them both as tightly as he possibly could.

"Daddy...Daddy...you're here. You look just like the man on TV." Jackson tried to wipe away the tears but finally gave up and hugged and picked up Stephanie kissing her all over.

"It is me. It's Daddy and I found you." He grabbed Michelle with his other hand and pulled her close. It was just as he imagined it would be after five years lying awake every night in prison thinking about this moment. He couldn't contain himself. He saw Michelle's eyes darting in every direction like she was looking for someone. He immediately snapped his mind back into focus. "We need to go...now."

"Are we going on TV too Daddy?"

Jackson pulled Stephanie tighter. "No honey we're going to some place safe, just the three of us."

Michelle grabbed a bag and began to fill it with clothes and other accessories. "Jackson, how did you ever find us?"

He grabbed her hand with his free one and clasped it in his. It felt so good. He wanted to kiss and hug them right here the rest of the day, but he knew they had to get going. Then he heard the two honks from Ben. "We need to go now. That was Ben. Someone is coming."

Michelle looked out the window and picked up the bag, leaving her hand intertwined with Jackson. The three of them ran out the room and down the stairs with Jackson carrying Stephanie. A minute later, they were outside running towards Ben who had the passenger door open. They all quickly got in. Stephanie sat on Jackson's lap and he nodded at Ben.

Ben started the car. "A police car just drove by. He came down the road and stopped in front of the house, and then took off. I honked as soon as he left."

"Thanks Ben. Meet Michelle, my wife and Stephanie our daughter."

Ben smiled. "Congratulations everyone. Very nice to meet you. Now let's get out of here. Where too?" Jackson instructed him to turn right.

Chapter 55

No one spoke as they twisted and turned out of the neighborhood. Jackson hadn't let go of Stephanie or Michelle's hand since he first saw them. They had a few tense moments as they passed two more police cars entering the neighborhood, but they paid no attention to them. The only words spoken were Jackson's occasional direction to turn or go straight. Ben gripped the wheel tightly and ensured he was stopping at each stop sign and staying well under the speed limit. There was no room for mistakes. Jackson couldn't take his eyes off Michelle, and he had his nose snuggled deep into Stephanie's hair, taking in all of her love and life. It felt like he had never left. He could feel her shaking in his arms, but he kept a tight reassuring grip on her. They pulled out onto a busy street past many shopping centers and meaningless stores. Nothing mattered anymore. He had everything he needed. His world was complete. He had gotten them away from Braymond safely. He didn't care what happened anymore to him. His thoughts were no longer on his own outcome; instead they were directed at Michelle and Stephanie. He looked at Michelle and she gave a loving smile that melted his insides. It reminded him of their past lives. He knew they wouldn't be able to just pick up where they left off. Too much had happened, but he was going to give it all he had. He had a new plan and right now everything was going accordingly. He looked over at Ben, who nodded acknowledging him. A few minutes later, Jackson pointed at a shopping center and instructed Ben to pull over. Ben reluctantly stopped the car.

"Now what are you going to do?"

Jackson looked at both Michelle and Stephanie. "I think we'll try from here." He pulled them both closer. "I can't ever thank you enough for all you've done. You saved my life. I promise I will repay you once things settle down." Jackson extended his hand towards Ben.

"I know you will and I'm glad I could help." He shook his hand firmly. "Best of luck guys." They all nodded and slowly exited the car. They were in front of a new upscale shopping center full of boutique restaurants and stores. He grabbed the bag from Michelle and they all stood and watched Ben slowly pull away. A minute later, he disappeared into the traffic.

"What are we going to do Jackson? I'm so scared. Are you okay?"

Jackson pulled her close. "I'm fine. The most important thing is you guys are okay. I was so worried. It's all my fault." He felt his eyes begin to well up.

"No Jackson. We're in this together. Is everything they are saying true?"

Jackson shook his head, "if you're talking about the murder of Braymond's father, no, it's not true. I had nothing to do with that."

"What is a murder Daddy?"

Michelle quickly leaned in and took Stephanie's hand. "It's a bad thing they are saying Daddy did, but it's not true."

"Like when Bobby said Billy pulled Lindsey's hair yesterday and Mrs. Brown got mad, and he didn't do it." Michelle and Jackson both smiled. Jackson waved down a nearby cab that immediately drove over and stopped in front of them. They all jumped in and Jackson instructed the cab to head towards Maryland.

Dever arrived back at the police station and stormed past the front desk and into the Assistant Chief's office causing him to quickly hang up the phone.

"Back so soon, what do I have the pleasure?"

"You know what I'm here for. I want to see the evidence."

Dever watched the Chief lean into the computer screen and begin typing. "I can do you one better. I already have officers at that location now." He read off the address. Dever slammed his fist onto the back of a nearby chair causing it to rock back and forth but not fall over. "So when were you planning on telling me this?"

The Chief answered quickly and looked back at his screen "You said you were coming back."

"We're too late now. He's long gone."

"I gave you what you asked." Dever quickly walked out of the office slamming the door behind him causing two nearby officers in the hallway to immediately move out of the way. He felt his temper raging by the time he told Timmons where they needed to go. Fifteen minutes later, they parked behind a half-dozen police cars, and Dever entered the immaculate house. He cringed when he saw the same captain standing inside the doorway, but he ignored him and walked through the first floor noting the little-girl shoes and toys scattered all about. When he got to the master bedroom, he was sure this is where Stewart's family had been. There was both women's and girl's clothing thrown on the floor as well as various other items indicating someone had left in a hurry. He barked at a nearby technician and made sure he was fingerprinting. The man said he had already done so. Dever began violently digging through every drawer and closet he could find. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he knew if he found something he would know what it was. A minute later, Timmons joined him in the search. Dever felt his phone begin to buzz, and he frowned when he recognized the number. He waved the technician out of the room and had Timmons close the door.

"This isn't looking good Dever. Now we have a murderer out there on the loose. You promised me we would get him by now. I've got to speak to the press. Virginia is all over me now." Dever moved the phone away from his ear as the Governor's voice began to rise. "I can't have the damn press following every move. Now they're looking into all our prisons and how we are running them. Next they'll start looking into something else, and I'll be out of a job. You need to end this now."

"I'm in the house right now where his family was holed up. I would have been here quicker, but I'm not getting much help from the local police."

"Let's not start passing the blame Dever. You're better than that." Dever realized he shouldn't have said that, but he felt so frustrated. He couldn't control anything anymore. He felt like screaming, but he kept his mouth shut and took the reaming. It reminded him of when he was in Marine Corp training, and the senior drill instructors would scream and yell at him and try and faze him and make him talk back, but he never did. He was better than that, and he was still doing it now. He happily ended the phone call when he heard the line click dead. It wasn't about his job anymore. He didn't care about that. He just wanted to get Stewart back. He would deal with everything else later. That was how he always did things. It was either all out or all in, and right now, he was all in and there was no stopping now. Even if the Governor fired him today, he would still remain until he found Stewart. He wasn't going back home empty-handed. Timmons opened the door, and the technician walked back in giving Dever a stern look. Dever looked away and continued his search.

Chapter 56

After a thirty-minute ride, Jackson and his family slipped out of the cab in the middle of the National Harbor bordering the Potomac in Maryland. Stephanie was in the middle, holding both of their hands. Jackson stopped at the first store they found and purchased a Redskins hat that he pulled low over his face. They walked through the harbor area trying to blend in with the large crowd. It was all very comforting, but awkward at the same time. It had been so long. Stephanie kept pointing at the enormous ferris-wheel found the water's edge. Michelle finally suggested that Stephanie needed to eat. They stepped into a bar and grill restaurant and were immediately seated near the window giving them a view of both the Alexandria waterfront as well as the large looming George Washington Bridge. Stephanie was seated next to Jackson and he had his hand still tightly grasping hers. He couldn't let go. There was so much to say, but yet he couldn't speak. He looked across the table where Michelle was seated. Jackson could see the stress in her eyes. He recognized that look from the time Stephanie was first born and the ensuing events that happened after. He wanted to let her know everything was going to be okay, but he knew better than to speak about anything like that in front of Stephanie. He hoped they would have time later to discuss everything that was going on and what was going to happen now. He figured they would just stay together and disappear one day, and maybe the police and the Warden would finally move on to something else. He knew that was how the media worked. You were the story until the next big thing came along. He just hoped something would come up soon.

"Look Mommy and Daddy we are celeberries again?" Jackson felt confused and looked all around the restaurant.

"Celebrities, Stephanie honey."

"What are you guys talking about?" Jackson looked directly at Michelle.

"Over there." Jackson followed to where she was pointing. There was a large TV off to the side of them over the bar. On the screen were three large pictures of each of them. Jackson kept his eyes focused on the TV as they showed Warden Dever and the local police officers going in and out of the house he rescued Stephanie and Michelle from.

"That's our new house right Mommy?"

Michelle reached across the table and placed her hand on Stephanie's shoulder. "Honey, that was never our house."

"Then why did Mr. Bray say we were going to stay there." Jackson quickly turned his head back away from the TV when the waitress delivered their food. He suddenly wasn't hungry, but he took a few bites just to satisfy his needs. He smiled watching Stephanie devour her hot dog; the TV was long forgotten. He couldn't believe how much he had missed them. He had so many questions, but he knew they had to go. It was only a matter of time. They needed to get out of here soon. He signaled the waitress to bring their check, and they quickly scurried out of the restaurant, and Jackson led them to a cab stand he had noticed when they had first arrived. Ten minutes later, they were pulling into a small motel in Bowie, Maryland. Jackson convinced the clerk to let him pay cash, and they got a room in a far back corner that satisfied him. He carried the one bag they had inside and placed it on the bed. He wasn't sure what was going to happen next, but for once he didn't care. Everything felt so right. He watched Michelle set the TV to a kids channel and Stephanie climb up on the bed and began to watch. In less than five minutes, she was sound asleep. He had so much to learn. He had missed so much. He wiped a tear from his eye as he caught Michelle staring at him. He reached over and pulled the comforter up on Stephanie and took comfort in watching her tiny chest rise and fall with every breath. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. He wished he could stand here forever and just watch her. A few minutes later, Michelle called him over to the far side of the room. He quickly walked over and embraced her for what seemed like forever. It felt like they were separated forever. He felt his heart mending itself with each passing second. He had so longed for her. They both sat down on the floor next to the bed and began to whisper.

"How did you get out Jackson? Is it really true that you used a drug?"

Jackson nodded and explained the whole sequence of events leading up to rescuing them from the house. He even showed the bandage on his leg that Bray had caused. She hugged him even tighter and ensured him that Bray didn't touch or harm either one of them. Jackson finally took his first deep breath since finding them. He wasn't sure how long they talked or embraced, but when he woke up he was lying on the floor with a blanket covering him and everything was dark. He quickly jumped up not seeing Michelle or Stephanie, but then he smiled and took another deep breath seeing them both sound asleep on the bed. All was well until he heard the scratching sound outside their door. He heard it again. He wasn't sure what it was, but he determined that was what had woken him up. He quietly got up and slowly walked towards the door. There was no way anyone could have tracked them here. He made sure of that. He looked out the peephole but the parking lot was too dark to see anything. He took a step back and gazed at Michelle and Stephanie. He wanted to run over to them and hug them both but he let them sleep. They had the rest of their lives now. He quickly turned back towards the door when he heard someone trying to turn the knob. There was definitely someone out there. He had to do something. It wasn't just him anymore so he couldn't just dive out the back window. He heard it again, this time it sounded like someone was sticking something in the lock. It wasn't a key. Someone was picking the lock. He looked all around the room for something, anything, but there was nothing, so he just remained standing in front of the door and when it burst open a few seconds later he attacked.

Dever smiled when he found it. It was a phone number on a small piece of paper underneath one of the pillows on the bed in the room that they had found the little girl's clothes. He knew it was something. He just felt it. He left Timmons to keep looking while he went outside past the Captain who gave him another dirty look. Dever sneered back and stepped outside and stopped near one of the police cruisers. He dialed The Conduit and when he reached one of his captains. He asked them to run a trace on the number. Ten minutes later, they called him back and informed him the number was for a cell phone that was registered to Michelle Stewart. For the first time since Stewart escaped, Warden Dever smiled. He had something. He immediately called back his captain and had them try and locate the cell phone. The Captain informed him the phone was on and gave him an address. Dever immediately went back into the house and noticed the captain wasn't standing in the same location and he heard what sounded like chaos coming from upstairs. Dever ran up the stairs and saw Timmons on the landing. He informed him they had found Mrs. Reynold's body stored in a crevice behind a wall. Dever listened to Timmons, but didn't process what was said; instead he pulled him downstairs explaining to him they had an address where Stewart's wife was right at this moment. Timmons stared at him for a second then began jogging toward the door until the Captain stepped in front of them.

"Sorry gentleman you can't leave till we account for everyone at this location. This is now a murder scene."

"With all due respect Captain. I don't care what it is, we need to leave."

"I can't allow that."

Timmons nodded and threw the car keys to Dever who caught them and ran out the door. He looked back and saw Timmons holding onto the screaming Captain. Dever reminded himself he needed to reward Timmons later. He jumped in the Crown Vic, entered the address on the GPS, and pushed every cylinder in the car towards Bowie, Maryland.

Chapter 57

Jackson landed on top of the intruder inside the doorway. He began flailing his arms and felt his fist strike flesh several times. He continued to punch as hard as he could. He knew it wasn't the police or the Warden because they would have gotten a key from the office. It had to be someone who could cause them harm. He landed a fist right on the face of the intruder and he felt him go limp underneath him. He heard Michelle yelling behind him, but he kept his focus on the man below him. It was completely dark in the room, so he couldn't make out his face, but he was a large physical man. A second later, he felt the energy surge into the man below him and the next thing he felt was hard steel strike the side of his head, and then everything went blurry. He came to a few minutes later, and the lights were on; the door was closed and Braymond Reynolds was standing above him pointing a gun directly at him. Jackson started to get up, but Braymond lowered the gun aiming it directly at his head, so he remained in place. He could see Michelle seated on the edge of the bed, and it looked like Stephanie was still lying down asleep. He had no idea how she could sleep through this. He focused his eyes back onto Braymond. He had that same look on his face that he had before when he was jamming the knife into his ankle. It was the kind of look that told him he had to do something quick or something really bad was going to happen, and he didn't want it to happen to Michelle or Stephanie. He looked at Michelle and he could see the moisture in her eyes. She was crying.

"All right, are you ready to tell me where the money really is and not some lame place like the farm you sent me too." Jackson focused back on Braymond. "I spent five hours out there digging and found nothing. Then I came back and you were gone." Jackson watched his finger tense up on the trigger. He had to think of something quick. "I should make you suffer right now and right here."

"Do it and let them go."

"See that's the thing. I can make you suffer more with her." He pointed the barrel at Stephanie. Jackson felt his insides making their way up his throat.

"Please...I'm begging you. Just do whatever you want to me."

"I'm planning on it after I get the money, but first I need to get it. Aren't you a little curious to how I found you so easily?" Jackson stared back blindly. He watched as Braymond casually walked over to Michelle keeping the gun pointed at him and reached into her pocket and pulled out an iPhone. "See how easy it is." Jackson slammed himself for not thinking about that. How could he have forgotten about how easy it is to track a cell phone. He didn't even think to ask if Michelle had one, and if it was on. "Now let's get down to business."

"Please...no. Don't do anything. We'll tell you whatever you want."

"You'll tell me whatever you want right Michelle." He stepped closer to Michelle. Jackson could no longer contain himself. He immediately vomited once he realized what was going on. He couldn't believe it. He looked at Michelle and felt the tears begin to pour out of his eyes. "Hurts doesn't it? Probably more than that ankle." Braymond had a huge smile on his face. Michelle looked as though she was going to be sick as well. Jackson closed his eyes and squeezed his hands as tightly as he could to try and make the pain go away but he couldn't. It hurt way too much. He loved her so much. More than anything he had ever loved before except for of course Stephanie. He looked past Michelle and Braymond and saw Stephanie begin to stir. It was now or never. He had to save her.

He tried to speak, but nothing but gibberish was coming out. He felt like there were a thousand knives being slammed into his heart. He had never felt like this before. Even when he was sentenced to prison, he still knew in his heart his family would be there with him. He finally was able to speak through the tears and pain. "So how did you do it?"

Braymond smiled, a smile so evil it made Jackson's heart stop beating for a moment. "Remember when I contacted you for the job?" Jackson nodded thinking back to that day and wishing he had never answered the phone. "I had already met with Michelle beforehand. It took a lot of convincing, so don't feel too bad, but once I told her about the twenty million dollars and she was convinced right Michelle?" Her expression didn't change. Jackson stared at her until she finally looked down. "Everything was planned. The whole thing and it worked great. The jury was convinced you shot the guard."

"It was you." Jackson started to rise, but sat back down when Braymond leaned forward with the gun.

"It was me. Then you went to prison, and we had to get you out. That's why Michelle kept telling you that you had to leave. We even planted the guy in there to get you the drugs."

Jackson couldn't take his eyes of Michelle. "How could you? I loved you. What about Stephanie?" She continued to look down.

Braymond placed his arm around her waist. "Yes, we have been together, many times right my dear?" Jackson cringed as he pulled her tighter to his side. "By the way, I know what you're thinking. I tracked her here by her phone, but she called me after you fell asleep and let me know right where you were."

"Is that right Michelle?" Jackson cried out still not believing what he was hearing. "You called him to tell him where we were after I rescued you and broke out of prison for something I didn't do. This whole thing was a set up. You two make me sick."

Michelle slowly looked up. "I'm sorry Jackson...I really am. It's just I always wanted to be rich and we weren't ever going to get there, and then this came up. I didn't want it to happen...it just did."

"Okay, enough with the sorry's. Now tell us where the money is."

"I have no idea. I never got the money."

Braymond shook his head. "No, I was there and I saw you go into the vault and grab the money just like the contract said for you to do in the job."

"You are correct I did go into the vault, but I didn't grab the money."

"Okay, have it your way." Jackson watched him pull out a knife and lean in towards Stephanie who had just woken up and was slowly sitting up. Jackson flew to his feet as quickly as he could, diving in mid-air when the first shot went off. He didn't feel the pain as the bullet pierced his upper arm, but he did see the second shot land directly in the center of his wife's chest as she jumped in front of the gun to protect him. Jackson stood stunned as Michelle fell to the ground in a pool of blood. He looked to Stephanie as she leapt from the bed towards him, and Braymond aimed the gun at him. He couldn't let anything happen to Stephanie. The last thing he remembered was reaching for her as Braymond began to pull the trigger, but instead of the bullet hitting him, Braymond's head exploded from the impact of another shot fired behind him. Jackson looked behind him and saw Warden Dever still holding his firearm pointed at where Braymond had been standing. Jackson continued running and scooped up Stephanie in his arms pulling her tightly to his chest. Everything was swirling around him, but he could hear Michelle telling the warden the whole story before she died. She explained that she had documented everything in a book and it was in a security box at her bank. Jackson tuned everything out and pulled Stephanie tighter as he watched the paramedics enter the room and tend to his upper arm wound. He didn't want to let go of Stephanie, but when they slipped on the handcuffs and placed him into the ambulance, he had no choice. The last thing he remembered was seeing the warden seated next to him and telling him Stephanie would be in good hands and then everything went black.

Epilogue

It's been six weeks since Jackson was exonerated of all charges involving the death of the security guard. The police recovered the documents from Michelle's safety deposit box, including taped phone calls and documentation describing the whole process. Jackson still couldn't get past the fact that she did this to him, but when he looked next to him and saw Stephanie, he knew it was all worthwhile. He is looking forward to completing the two hundred hours of community service he has to fulfill for the crimes committed during the escape, so he can put the whole thing behind him. He watches as Stephanie takes a bite into Manny's newest specialty, the hot dog. She actually looks happy. He hasn't left her side since he was awarded full custody, even though there have been some rough nights with Stephanie waking up screaming for Michelle in the middle of the night, but it is beginning to happen less often now. He still hasn't faced his own agony yet, but he knows at some point he will. He reaches over and straightens out Stephanie's pirate hat, her new craze after their trip to the abandoned old farm near their old house a few weeks ago. Jackson and Stephanie went to the far-right corner of the old barn and walked ten paces to the right then five to the left and Jackson drew a large "X," and that's where they dug and found the treasure chest full of 20 million dollars. He couldn't believe it was still right where he had buried it five years ago. If only Braymond could have seen it. An anonymous donation had already arrived at The Conduit to build the Sergeant Alvin Harris Computer Center with all the newest technology to assist both the prisoners and staff. Jackson watched the excitement grow on Stephanie's face as her newest best friend Jessie, joined them and sat down across the table in the booth. Jackson leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. She was running late because she's been busy meeting with the contractor to begin the new construction after several million dollars mysteriously appeared in the motel office, the same motel where Jackson and Stephanie are currently living.

