Inter-spem et Metum 7
~*~ The events of this story will incorporate external added elements from the author's imagination into the already rich and exhilarating canon narrative of the HBO original series, Oz. For the most part, the canon of the series will remain intact to preserve a sense of realism to the plot, while also being sensitive of the time flow of events occurring within Oz.
~*~ Although the characters to be featured are prominently factual in their given genre, they are the sole property of Tom Fontana and Barry Levinson, and are copyrighted to Rysher Entertainment and HBO. All original characters are of the author's creation and belong to him alone and, as with the rest of the story, may not be replicated or redistributed in any way without formal consent from said author.
~*~ Underage reading or any other illegalities is neither encouraged nor condoned in any way by the author. He also will not tolerate any form of plagiarism towards any of the words to come, as they are his and his alone. The principal objective is that of enjoyment and entertainment to you, the reader.
~*~ Address any type of question and/or feedback to jc71883@hotmail.com, making sure to add a relation to the story on the subject line of the e-mail to guarantee its reception.
The hacks gossip like a bunch of giggling bitches. I'm about to do something bad, loco. And I think it's the right move to make---for everyone. Cherry it is, then.
The kitchen was buzzing for breakfast as inmates crowded in to eat. A plan was about to go down and, for once, he had no part of it---not a hand. O'Reily reserved his spot at the end of the serving line and passed out sausage patties to his fellow inmates. He waited patiently for the one person he really wanted to serve because, then, part of his problem would be gone forever. The line grew shorter and the victim appeared.
"Eat hearty," the Irishman said as he dropped two sausage patties on Supreme Allah's tray.
Allah shot him a piercing look and went to sit by Hill---he began eating right away. Only a few people knew where to look in the cafeteria. O'Reily knew, as did Hill and Poet, and most likely Redding. Their collective eyes were on Allah as he ate and immediately saw when it started to work---when the deadly allergy started to overtake his body and slowly kill him. He coughed up the sausage patty and fell to the floor as his throat closed up and the life essence was drained from his body.
With Allah dead, neither O'Reily nor Keller had to worry about him coming after them anymore for pinning two murders on him. Today was already a good day and he really did manage to keep his hands clean this time---as clean as they could get in Oz anyway. He knew Allah was highly allergic to the eggs that were surprisingly mixed into the sausage patties that were being served today. But, no one knew he knew of the plan to poison Supreme Allah that way and O'Reily was fine keeping his name out of peoples' mouths.
Ryan O'Reily was anxious and had been so for the past few days. He was not able to get much sleep at night and spent most of his time in Connolly's cell putting the pieces of the bomb together. Connolly really was a prisoner of circumstance, but he was never going to be left alone---and he knew it. He had sent Meaney out on menial tasks so they had the pod to themselves. Neither McManus nor Murphy noticed or showed interest in their spending time together. They were staying out of trouble---for now.
"When is the wristwatch coming?" Connolly asked.
"Should be today. I asked my Aunt Brenda to get me one. It's too early for the mail yet."
"It should be completed after that."
"Porg, how far will the blast go?"
"Contained in Em City."
"All right. Hey, I got to go take care of some business," O'Reily said to him. "Don't want McManus taking notice of us now."
"Yeah. Later."
He left the pod and felt an odd sensation within him. He wanted to see Dr. Nathan, but she was inaccessible at the moment. More than anything, the Irishman just wanted someone to talk to about this bomb. It was clear that both he and Connolly had different reasons for wanting the explosion to go off and it was too late to back out now---not when they had come so far. O'Reily went down into his pod to think.
Pancamo had shifted him from deliveries back to the line the day after Connolly had held him at knifepoint in the laundry room and had told him about the bomb so he had not been able to correspond with Alvarez since then. He had given him the note he had written the night before along with the cherry blow pop but that was it. O'Reily was not able to get to Solitary on his own over the past two days and exchanging notes without the disguise of food delivery was next to impossible. He missed the notes.
Later in the afternoon, a large group of inmates gathered around the TV waiting for Up Your Ante to come on. O'Reily never liked the show and Beecher seemed to know all the answers. It was annoying to watch it with him around. Keller needed to come back so the know-it-all would be on his knees with his mouth full---that way, he would be unable to give any answers. O'Reily shuddered at the thought of them being together like that.
"For the second straight week, we have a new contestant and a new celebrity, in fact, the man who's been let out of jail especially for the job---Tim McManus," the announcer of the show said as laughter and boos came from the crowd in Em City.
"Oh shit, look at that---fucking McManus starring up on TV," White said.
The announcer went on with, "And I want to introduce now a young star today. He's the other Tony Soprano, Robert Arlow. Robert---thank you for coming."
"We got to get cable, man. We are missing out on all the good shit," Poet said.
"Ay, yo, I hear the women on Sex and the City are hot, son. Hot!" Hill said with extra emphasis on the word hot.
O'Reily leaned in from behind him and said, "I'd fuck that Sarah whatever her name is, man."
"Will you guys just shut the fuck up, please! Shit!" White yelled.
"We start off with ten dollars and the category today Tim is vocabulary and the question is, `What is a tittle?'" the announcer said.
McManus smiled and said, "I think I know this. I'm going to humor you---I'm going to ask for a hint. Did you cover this in sixth grade English, Robert?"
"Well first off, I'm in high school, and yeah, they did cover this---in third grade."
"Would you like to give him a hint, Robert?" the announcer said.
"It comes with crosses on t's," Robert said.
"I saw a show where they were discussing tittles and, uh, it wasn't punctuation," McManus said.
"Yeah, it's not punctuation---it's a diacritical mark," Robert answered back.
"The kid's right," Beecher said.
O'Reily was not even paying attention to the TV anymore. This bomb was heavy inside his mind and he felt tired because he had been practically sleep deprived. And he was worried about Cyril and that Stanton guy in protective custody. He also did not know if his mother had turned herself in yet. And passing notes with Alvarez had become a great source of entertainment to him. He had to figure out a way to get back on delivery duty.
McManus said, "You're a good guy, Robert, but I've been around a little longer. Tittle---breast implant."
"Leave it to McManus to go for breasts," Pancamo laughed.
"No, in fact, it is the dot above an `I'," the announcer said and everyone n Em City laughed.
"I always knew McManus was an idiot---now everybody else does too," Guerra said to Morales.
"Yo, man, don't be fucking dogging McManus out, all right," White defensively said.
"Oh, I'm sorry, White. I forgot you've been sucking his cock these days."
"I'm not sucking his cock, faggot," White said angrily.
"Then, you must be taking it up the ass," Guerra said and the inmates laughed.
"Oh!" Pancamo grinned.
White jumped out of his chair and charged towards Guerra punching and screaming. Guerra felt a hard hit against his face as the buzzers went off. Many of the inmates jumped up and stepped back to stay clear of the chaos. Pedro Caulderon, a member of El Norte, charged at White to get him off Guerra. White spun around, grabbed his shirt, and ran him right into one of the large TVs.
"Oh shit!" O'Reily said as half of Caulderon's body was inside the shattered TV.
"Motherfucker! Motherfucker!" White screamed as two officers grabbed and tried to restrain him.
"Central, this is eleven---we got a sixty-six," Murphy spoke into his radio as he ran down the stairs.
"Fuck, man! Fuck! Motherfucker!" White yelled as he was being restrained.
"Get the fuck out of here!" Murphy said to White and the officers holding him as he kept Guerra against a table.
O'Reily looked on as they took White to McManus's office and officers got Caulderon's body out of the smashed television. Blood and glass was everywhere on his head and face---the site was gruesome. The Irishman did not want to be there when more hacks came so he disappeared into his pod. He noticed that during the fight, Morales never lifted a finger to help either Guerra or Caulderon. The bastard just stood there and did nothing.
Despite the fight, and subsequent death, that had happened in the quad, the warden had replaced the TV and had gotten cable hooked up over the next few days. A crowd of inmates gathered around the TVs and cheered as the girls of G String Divas came on and danced for them. O'Reily looked but did not get excited because he knew it was going to be impossible to have sex with beautiful women like that in Oz. All he had to pick from was the ugly hack Howell---and he would rather use his hand or become celibate before he fucked her again.
"O'Reily," an inmate delivering mail called to him. "O'Reily!"
"What?" he spun his head back and barked.
The inmate handed him a package he already knew the contents of. Aunt Brenda had been a little late but she came though. O'Reily held the package in his hands and bolted up the stairs to Connolly's pod. The final piece of their plan was about to fall into place and exhilarating nerves took over his body. He entered Connolly's pod and tossed the package to him.
"That's the wristwatch?"
"Yeah," O'Reily confirmed.
"Last piece we need for the bomb."
"We're going to detonate during rec hour?"
Connolly tore the package open and replied, "Best time. The gymnasium won't take the blast, being so far from Em City."
"You sure about this?"
"The U.S. government made me a prisoner of war. I'm being sent back to England for purely political reasons and that's wrong. So, we have to act. Will our single date create change? Maybe---probably not."
O'Reily asked, "So, then, you're saying---it's not the battle but the war?"
"I'm saying, whether we ever win the war, is for God to decide. For man, there's only fighting," he said as he started playing with the watch.
"Fight for fighting's sake. That's fucked up, man."
"No. Fighting, because injustice must always be met head on. Live like that, we may not win but we ensure we never, ever lose," Connolly said, and his reasons for wanting the bomb detonated got more intense.
He left Connolly alone to attach the timer to the bomb and went downstairs to wait by the entrance gates. Murphy had told him earlier that Dr. Nathan had pulled strings to get Cyril back in Em City and he was happy to see his baby brother come back---and that he was away from Stanton. O'Reily waited impatiently at the gates until he heard that familiar buzzer.
"Ryan!" Cyril excitedly said as he hugged his brother.
"Hey, kid. You all right?"
Cyril nodded and O'Reily picked up his backpack and they walked into Em City and to the pod. It started to click in his mind, but he brushed it away and helped his brother settle back into life here. Dr. Nathan had done this for him---made this happen. The Irishman smiled at the thought of her and her caring persona. Cyril shaking his hand and asking him if he could go to the quad to watch TV quickly brought him back. He sat down and O'Reily nodded at Rebadow to look after him.
He had to see Dr. Nathan so he asked Murphy for a favor. After some convincing, the officer finally allowed him to leave Em City to see her. O'Reily was feeling something bubbling up inside his stomach but chalked it up the bad food they had to eat or indigestion. He walked into the infirmary and saw the doctor was in the lab sorting pills. The door opened and closed behind her.
"Hey. I can't thank you enough for getting Cyril sent back to me," O'Reily got close enough to her so that she could hear is whisper.
"I didn't transfer him for you, Ryan. I did it because it's the right thing to do."
"No, I know that, you know, because you always do the right thing---the moral thing. That's why I love you. Kiss me," he requested but then moved in and did it for himself.
Dr. Nathan remained there for only a few seconds before she pulled back and said, "Officer. Um, take O'Reily back to Em City."
O'Reily touched her hand and said, "I didn't mean to upset you, you know. All I meant to say was I got a real reason to live now---every reason."
The officer escorted him out of the lab and back and he had finally realized what the feeling in the pit of his stomach was. He had finally realized why he was barely able to sleep at night. It was regret and his instincts telling him to abort the plan. This bomb was going to destroy Em City and many lives in the process. Connolly was sure that the blast was going to be contained to Em City, but O'Reily could not afford to take that chance anymore. It was a risk that was too high for a reward he knew he did not want anymore. He had people in here he cared about. Cyril. Gloria. Loco.
Later in the kitchen, O'Reily's mind was everywhere as the crew organized dinner. His brain was scattered into a million tiny thoughts of how wrong and unnecessary the destruction was. The whole prison could possibly collapse because Connolly misjudged the strength of the bomb. He turned the gas on the stove and was about to strike a match to light it when he saw the terrorist move past the line to collect his food. O'Reily left the stove behind and chased after him through the line.
"Hey, we got to talk. Look, we got to call this operation off," he said.
"For fuck's sake, keep your voice down. We'll discuss this later," Connolly told him in an irritated tone.
"No, later is going to be too late. We're going to end up killing a lot of people that shouldn't have to die," O'Reily was adamant.
"We've been through this---Em City will be nearly empty and I'll get word to the COs. They'll have five minutes before their evacuation."
"No, what if the hacks don't act fast enough?"
"I can't control that."
"What if the blast spreads to other areas, other cellblocks, maybe even the hospital---the visiting rooms?" he was desperate to get his point across.
"There's nothing else can be done."
Connolly moved past him and took a seat at the empty table in the corner behind him. O'Reily was starting to lose his patience and the time was getting closer. It was not supposed to happen this way. Most of the lives in here, including his own, did not mean shit, but the officers, the staff, and the warden did not deserve this. None of them were considered dangerous or were criminally insane murders. They were understanding, like Sister Pete, and warm, like Dr. Nathan.
O'Reily turned to him and said, "No. Look, I've---I've killed anybody for just about anything, so I'm not going to try and get all high and mighty on you. I know that this mission makes sense to you, but for me, I see what we're about to do and for the first time in my miserable fucking life, I feel like I finally understand."
"Understand---understand what?"
"Our actions, they make us who we are and up to now, my actions don't amount to a pile of shit. Jesus Christ, Porg, I got a brother, and even a woman inside these walls who believe in me," O'Reily got an intense look in his eyes as he talked. "They believed in me when I gave them nothing to believe in."
"One hour from now, we're going to complete out mission," Connolly coolly said.
"Fuck you!" he angrily snorted and started to walk away.
"What are you doing?"
O'Reily turned back, "Look, I've always been the guy who walked tall, held his head high, but that's always been a move---for show. For once, I'm going to earn the right to walk that way."
Their eyes connected for a moment before the Irishman turned away from him and walked across the cafeteria. He had to stop this madness by any means necessary. There were people he had to think about---put first above himself right now. O'Reily was not going to be selfish or make excuses for his actions. This bomb had to be disarmed. He walked over to the guard who was blocking the exit to the cafeteria.
"Hey, excuse me, I need to go back to Em City---I got an emergency."
"O'Reily, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Pancamo walked up to him and yelled. "You left the fucking gas on again."
"Then turn it off!" he yelled back and bolted out of the cafeteria.
"No, you turn it off! Where are you going? Ay, I ain't going to do your fucking job for you!"
He heard Pancamo screaming behind him but he did not care as he ran to Em City to try to prevent a huge mess he was partially responsible for in the first place. It was not the prison's fault he was incarcerated. It was not McManus's fault that he had chosen to go on a drug-induced reckless joyride and killed those people. O'Reily felt that by doing this, he was taking some responsibility for the bad things he had done in his life. He was not, and never would be, a saint, but watching this many innocent people suffer or die made him sick.
Connolly ran past numerous inmates when they came back from the cafeteria and went straight for the stairs. He had kept staring at O'Reily after their conversation in the cafeteria until after he sped off towards Em City. The plan had come too far to be aborted now. He jumped the stairs two at a time and ran over to enter his pod. O'Reily was on the top bunk where he was carefully taking their constructed bomb down from the ceiling.
"Uh-uh, no," he said when he heard the door open. "I'm taking this fucking bomb to the hacks."
Connolly said, "Relax, Ryan. Took me a minute but what you said in the cafeteria is starting to penetrate this thick skull of mine."
"Yeah?" O'Reily hopped down from the bunk and rested the bomb on the bed. "Jesus, look, that's good, Porg because you know, we could still fight the good fight. We just got to figure out a different way to do it, all right?"
"Careful," he said when the bomb started to move on the bed. "Did you shut off the time delay?"
"I haven't done anything."
"Give me it," Connolly said as he got the bomb and started to tamper with the wristwatch attached to it.
"Wow, hey---what are you doing?"
"What must be done. You have two minutes," Connolly said as he ran out of the pod with the bomb clutched in his hands.
"No---Porg. Fuck!" O'Reily cursed as he ran out the pod too and started yelling. "Cyril, beat it! McManus! McManus---Murphy, he's got a bomb!"
McManus entered the second floor with Murphy through the back stairs and said, "Huh?"
"Down there---Connolly's got a bomb!" he yelled and pointed as Connolly quickly walked down the stairs and to the center of the quad.
The prisoners looked on until someone screamed out, "He's got a bomb---fucking Connolly's got a bomb!"
Buzzers immediately started ringing and an uproar of panic swept over Em City as prisoners ran for their lives to the gate. The fear was real and there really was no turning back now. Screams and shouts were heard from the entrance gate of Em City---prisoners begged and demanded to be let out and started pushing each other against the gate to try to force it down. It was no use and they all were frantic and fearful for their lives. There were no enemies here and no grudges mattered at this time---only survival.
He had failed. The fear was alive running rampant through Emerald City as prisoners were still screaming and some were crying. He did this. O'Reily caused this massacre and now Em City was going to be destroyed---probably the whole prison was going to collapse onto itself after the explosion. It was not supposed to be this way---this was not the plan. He walked down the main stairs close to McManus, Murphy, and a few officers as they tried to get closer to Connolly.
"Porg---put the bomb down," McManus calmly and slowly said as they all walked in a group closer to him. "Put it down. Let's talk."
"One minute fifteen," Connolly shouted out.
"Fuck! Ah, you---you check the computer room. You three, make sure every fucking pod is empty!" McManus ordered when they got to the ground floor.
"Open the gate!" Murphy called into his radio and the buzzer sounded before prisoners started empting out of Em City.
"Hey, Porg---Porg, cut those wires," O'Reily ran up close to him and said.
"There's no turning back. Less than a minute---you should go," Connolly somberly said.
"No, just---just---just put it down and we'll both go."
"A foreign army still occupies Irish streets."
"That's all the more reason for you to stay alive, remember, to fight---remember?" O'Reily wanted and frantically tried to get through to him.
"I have no illusions about what I've faced back in England, and not die on their soil. I end here," his voice cracked.
"O'Reily, come on, let's go!" Murphy yelled to him.
"Twenty seconds."
"Ryan!" he heard Cyril's voice from somewhere.
"God damn you, Porg!" O'Reily said as he ran towards the opened gate.
"Move it!" Murphy told the rest of the officers.
They all scattered from the quad and ran for cover outside Em City. Beyond the gate, they waited behind the wall for what was to come. O'Reily's heart threatened to burst out of his chest and his skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat. His mouth was dry and his stomach felt weak as he waited for the end in the presence of McManus, Murphy and a couple of other officers. O'Reily used the wall for support behind him because his body felt like it was going to give out on him. He had needed to lean into it for support. He had failed.
"Ten seconds," Connolly shouted out to the empty Emerald City and then started to pray in silence. "Hail Mary, full of grace. Our Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen."
Ryan O'Reily pressed his head against the wall and closed his eyes as he muttered to himself, "Fuck! Cyril---Gloria---Alvarez."
Connolly watched and gripped the bomb tightly to his chest as the wristwatch slowly counted down to zero. He closed his eyes and held on to the bomb, waiting for the explosion to come and take him and Em City away. The timer kept beeping as zero came and went and Connolly opened his eyes to see that nothing had happened. He lifted the bomb over his head and threw it hard to the ground, hoping the impact would trigger the explosion. Nothing happened. Connolly looked at the bomb on the ground and kicked it.
"Christ Almighty."
O'Reily opened his eyes and saw that the S.O.R.T. team was making their way over to them. Something had to have gone wrong because the bomb should have detonated by now. His mind was reeling with possibilities as the team was getting into place in preparation for the worst. The Irishman peeked out from behind the wall over to the quad and saw the bomb was on the floor and Connolly had kicked it again.
"Fucking piece of shit!" Connolly said as he kicked it.
O'Reily was braver and looked out more before he said, "It's a dud. It's a fucking dud!"
"Go get him!" McManus angrily said.
The S.O.R.T. team cautiously proceeded through the gate as O'Reily came out from behind the wall and watched them as they approached the man with their shields up. A small part of him felt bad, but he tried to talk Connolly out of going down this road. He had the look of defeat on his face at the team took him down to the ground and confiscated the bomb. McManus and Murphy came out and stood by him as the team did their work. O'Reily's insides were confused during what he thought were his last moments alive. He had thought about Miguel Alvarez.
Everything had returned to normal later that night after Em City had been repopulated and now it was lights out. Guards roamed around the lonely and darkened hallways of the prison that had almost crashed into the ground today. The air was still and cold in the cafeteria as a guard did his nightly sweep to check if anything was out of place. He withdrew a cigarette from its pack and clamped it against his lips. He felt over his body for a match and found a booklet in his pants pocket. The hissing sound went unnoticed as the guard ripped the match away from the rest and struck it against the back of the book to get a light. A surging flare erupted from the very air itself.