She leaned back in her chair. Looked at the door. The silence in the hallway had changed. It was no longer empty.
It was finished. Four minutes later, Luke and Dan came running in. Luke’s jacket was open and his hair was a mess.
Dan held his pistol in one hand, still not fully awake. “What happened?” Luke said, breathing hard.
“Gunfire in Segregation 11,” Olivia answered evenly. “Inmates Savel, Ruden, and Miro got hold of a weapon. I heard the shots.
The cell door is locked from the inside.” Dan stopped cold. “You saw them?”
“No. I only heard it.” A heavy silence settled. Luke muttered a curse under his breath.
“We need to wake the major.” “Already called him,” she said calmly. “Now we wait for response.”
The three of them stood in the bright corridor. None of them wanted to go near the closed door of Segregation 11. The smell of powder and fresh blood was already coming from underneath it.
Luke glanced at Olivia uneasily. “You okay?” “I’m okay.”
He nodded and looked away. Major Collins arrived twelve minutes later. Coat thrown over his shoulders, eyes red from lack of sleep.
Behind him came two men from the response team, shotguns slung across their chests. “Report, Carter.” “At 4:12 I heard shots from Segregation 11.
Three or four pops, then yelling, then silence.” “The door is locked from the inside. Hall cameras were down due to an electrical short.”
Collins looked grimly at the closed door. “Who was in there?” “Savel, Ruden, and Miro.
They were moved there overnight on my written recommendation.” “Threat of riot.” He gave a short nod to the armed men.
“Open it.” One of them slid a key into the lock. The heavy door opened slowly.
The smell hit all of them at once. Powder, iron, waste, fresh blood. Inside were three bloody bodies.
Greek sat against the wall, head thrown back, pistol in hand. Tank lay facedown, blood from his stomach spread in a wide pool. Scalpel was on the bunk, legs hanging over the side, a bullet hole in his head.
Collins stepped carefully inside and looked at Olivia. “You entered the cell?” “No. I only heard the shots from outside.”
He nodded to the response team. “Take pictures. Don’t touch anything.”
The camera flashes lit the dead men’s faces in harsh bursts. Collins stepped back into the hall and lit a cigarette. “Homemade gun with one, service weapon with another.
Looks like a bad internal dispute.” “Savel probably shot Tank, then killed Scalpel, then himself.” Olivia said nothing.
“What’s your read?” he asked. “I heard shots, then silence. That’s all.”
He exhaled smoke. “Fine. Go write it up.” “Attempted weapon seizure and internal inmate conflict.
No staff injuries.” “Yes, sir.” The state review team arrived at 7:20 a.m…
