Relaxation among the Bars

Chapter 2

I sat in my office and memorized the shifts schedule of all the wardens, the coffee was still steaming in the white cup. I looked at the walls and a feeling of pain pierced my heart. Strange that only 3 days ago, this office was not mine, that only 3 days ago, Sergeant Campbell was murdered. The longing for him soon turned into a fiery hatred for Torrez – he deserved to rot in solitary, if it was legal, I would go into his cell and murder him silently, but the law bound my hands. What suitable punishment that "man" deserved? Only time will tell.

I stole a glance at the calendar, where a small black circle caught my attention. The circle marked next Wednesday, January 6 – the day the commissioner is expected to arrive at the facility for review. I wasn't particularly worried, but still I felt a bit of excitement and pressure – the commissioner's review is my official test as Campbell's replacement, and is meant to answer whether I was following Campbell's will.

Behind my desk there's a large glass window, from which I could oversight the main wing of the prison, the 2-floors building with rows of prison cells stretching to the further wall. Even without getting out of the chair, I could hear the screams of leached prisoners echoing through the prison walls, I could hear the new policy being enforced. I felt like taking a little break and approached the window. I saw the last of the handcuffed prisoners being brought back to their cells after a refreshment in the yard. Prisoners, who deliberately slowed down or stood and refused to return to the cell, were kicked into it like boxes.I smiled slightly and breathed a sigh of relief – the Iron Hand policy was properly implemented, and not a single prisoner whose spirit was not broken remained. If only Torrez was here to enjoy it all... The office door slowly opened and someone entered the room, but I didn't turn around to greet him. It was clear to me who it was, and he arrived just as I wondered about him.

"Ma'am ..?" Jeff broke the ice.

"Enough with graces, Jeff, I'm the same Sawyer."

Jeff sat down on one of the chairs, and finally I turned and saw his face:

"C'mon, give me the daily report!" I urged him.

"Your policy certainly proves itself,"Jeff said, "but as expected we encountered resistance."

I remained silent and looked at him for a few moments. He expected a response from me, but when it did not come, he realized he had to explain:

"There was a brawl between prisoners and guards about 2 hours ago. We managed to take over, but several guards were injured."

I turned my gaze from Jeff to the wall to our right, where the last photo of the late Sergeant Campbell with the wardens staff was still hanging on the cork board on the wall. What would you do in this situation, Serge'?

"Shall we make the penalties even worse?"

"No, it won't be necessary."

Jeff opened his eyes in surprise – that's definitely not the answer he was expecting, he must have believed that a different and more compassionate Sawyer was facing him.

"Are... are you sure?"

He stuttered, worried about my surprising reply.

"The more we get down in them, the more their frustration and rage builds up, and to keep it from blowing up in our faces, we shall give them a way to release the rage."

Jeff looked at me even more confused. I could read his thoughts, imagine him wondering who I am and what have I done to the Sawyer he knows.

"What did you have in mind?"

"A little tool experiment. We'll check it out later. Now let's eat!My stomach clings to my back!"

After we returned for lunch, Jeff accompanied me to the office.