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Post by Dingley on May 20, 2007 11:39:35 GMT 1
Great work AP (I know I aways say this!). INteresting conversation with pope. So you couldn't kill off t-bag just yet?  |
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Post by Audio Pineapple on May 20, 2007 12:05:43 GMT 1
lol Not sure I'd be able to kill T-Bag off - I might like him too much!
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Post by Dingley on May 20, 2007 12:37:46 GMT 1
So you are just doing one of their cliff hangers where we think the person is dead and they aren't! Thought you didn't like them? |
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Post by Audio Pineapple on May 20, 2007 13:06:27 GMT 1
#lol# I guess I have done! Although that's only one so far!
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Post by scofield72 on May 22, 2007 21:12:46 GMT 1
Great, I can't believe i've only just read it. But fab as usual!!!
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Post by Audio Pineapple on May 23, 2007 0:02:04 GMT 1
Thanks - next chapter is written, should be up tomorrow.
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Post by Audio Pineapple on May 23, 2007 20:13:09 GMT 1
Chapter 18
Sara sighed heavily, aware that Katie was watching her and probably wondering what was wrong. As if on cue the question came, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s the sixth time you’ve done that in the last half an hour.”
She bit her tongue from coming out with a scathing remark about how Katie should have something better to do with her time by reminding herself that her friend was just being caring.
“I snapped at Bellick earlier.”
“So? I’m sure he deserved it.”
“In front of a room full of prisoners,” she left off the part of the story that was really worrying her; that she had snapped in front of Michael, that she had revealed how much his escape attempt had hurt her and that she was sighing because she was hoping that he hadn’t realised she had been talking about him but knew that Michael was more than smart enough to work her out.
“At least the schedule has calmed down,” Katie tapped the wall chart and Sara nodded. Besides checking on Michael’s stitches she only had one more check-up and one medication dispensing and then it was nothing more than paperwork for the numerous injured and the three dead from the riot.
“You need to put your feet up for the night.”
“Easier said that done,” she muttered the sentence more to herself than to Katie but she heard a reply regardless.
“One of my friends was in the paramedic team that they sent over; said his colleague, Christian something was interested in you. Want me to set you up with him?”
Sara began to shake her head before her eyes caught the chart, it would be the perfect way to get Michael out of her mind. “Sure, why not?”
-*-
Bellick smiled to himself as he followed Michael down the tier to his new cell. Usually he hated when Pope forced him to obey a transfer request because it meant that another prisoner would be punished less due to Pope’s soppiness. And the fact that it was Scofield was enough to send him to boiling point but he doubted that Michael would realise exactly what he’d done with his request and that made everything seem so much more delectable.
“Anderson; up” he barked the order as Anderson disentangled himself from Jones, feeling thankful that they hadn’t progressed to sheet hanging stage and he felt his smirk widen as Anderson approached the bars, Jones hastily putting his shirt back on.
He saw Anderons eyeing up Michael’s crate, obviously confused, “nice to know you’re thinking of me boss but I already got a present.”
Bellick laughed, trying to make himself sound as bitter and maniacal as possible, “hardly. You’re out, Scofield’s in. Went crying to daddy Pope about wanting a new cellie and picked Jones.” He felt the warmth of satisfaction wash through him as Anderson’s eyes flashed, mouth turning into a snarl as a box was thrown to him and he began collecting his personal effects, Jones still glued to the bottom bunk, obviously socked by the development.
Bellick leaned closer to Michael, licking his lips in anticipation of delivering the news. “You know, they say you’re a genius but you must really be an idiot if you think you csn mess around with the Purity gang’s bedding structure and get away with it,” the realization that fell on Michael’s face made Bellick’s day, it even almost made up for Sara screaming at him in front of his men.
“Up,” the word was hissed to Jones who immediately obeyed Anderson, flinching when arms linked around his waist and overpowering lips attacked his. Bellick felt his stomach turning at the spectacle and looked away until they were done, returning his gaze when he heard a half-whispered, “see you in mess.”
Anderson picked up his box again, walking in front of Bellick and grabbing hold of Michael’s arm wound, claming down as Michael winced and gasped for breath, “I’m going to make sure T rips your head off for this.”
He let go and Bellick shoved Michael into his cell, deciding that it was officially a good day.
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Post by Dingley on May 24, 2007 12:14:04 GMT 1
Cool, you really capture teh essence of Bellick (he is such a creep I really hate him!). Again it is all really good! Great work thanks again!
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Post by Audio Pineapple on May 24, 2007 14:57:04 GMT 1
Thanks  - Bellick's one of my favourite character's to write - just because I get to make him creepy |
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Post by scofield72 on May 25, 2007 21:49:33 GMT 1
Oh, no, I'm really worried for Michael now. I can't wait for the next instalment!!!
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Post by Audio Pineapple on May 26, 2007 22:42:41 GMT 1
haha thanks!
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Post by Dingley on May 29, 2007 11:38:59 GMT 1
lol, thought I had missed sunday's one! How's the writing coming along? No pressure just really enjoying reading these
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Post by Audio Pineapple on May 29, 2007 12:33:22 GMT 1
I've done 2/3 scenes in the next chapter - it'll be here soon |
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Post by Audio Pineapple on Jun 1, 2007 16:07:13 GMT 1
Chapter 19
“Has the meeting been put in place yet?”
“Everything is in order.”
“And the security is ready?”
“Everything is in order.”
“Can you not say anything else?” He winced, shuffling onto his other foot as he tried to work out the appropriate response to the bard. “I’m sorry Paul, but this is my first public appearance since Burrows’ execution, I’ll be the target for every wacko out there.”
“Don’t worry Madam President,” Kellerman looked to the ajar doorway, making sure that nobody was outside listening, “I’m going to protect you Caroline.”
“Actually Paul there is no need for you to be out in the field with me today, a higher position has opened up for you due to how well you dealt with this Burrows… situation.”
“I’m being replaced?” He struggled to keep the hurt out of his voice, opting to sound disbelieving instead but Caroline’s reply, her tone gentle, informed him that he hadn’t got the hang of it yet.
“You’re being promoted Paul; desk job, supervisory role…”
“So who gets my job?”
“Some agent named William Kim.”
Kellerman bit back a sigh, he didn’t want the job, to be separated from her but he had learned a long time before that he was supposed to only do as she was commanded.
-*-
Michael instinctively followed Greg as he entered the mess hall, not sure where to sit now that Sucre wasn’t around to guide him. He got his answer however, when his arm wad grabbed roughly and he was dragged down onto one of the benches, almost sending his tray flying in the process.
“I see you’re adhering to the plan Michael,” he looked up into the face of John Abruzzi and felt his face flush with fear at being so close to him.
“I don’t know what you’re…”
“Jones, you’ve managed to get him as your cellmate, it’s the perfect time to put your plan to into action.”
“I’m not killing him.”
Abruzzi laughed; “need I remind you that this isn’t a negotiation?”
“I don’t think he told Bellick.”
“And do you know who did?”
Michael paused, almost blurting out Tweener’s name before reminding himself that Abruzzi wouldn’t hesitate to kill; he wanted to make sure Tweener was guilty before he took any action.
“No.”
“Then Jones dies, I don’t want to have to ask you again,” he stared as Michael picked up his tray and began walking back down the centre of the room between the tables, scouring for Tweener, finding him sitting in a far corner, making himself as small as possible.
“Hey,” as soon as Michael had spoken he saw Tweener’s eyes flicker to something behind him and he turned, finding Rackham there.
“Apolskis? Come on, gang wants a word with you.” Tweener stood, walking in the direction that Rackham had indicated. “You too Scofield.”
Michael followed, settling himself on the seat left of Greg, regretting it when he heard Anderson, on the other side of the boy growl with disapproval.
“T-Bag is dead.”
Michael blinked, his mind reeling, “wait, I asked Pope…”
A clip round the ear made him stop as Rackham leaned next to him, whispering, “I know he’s not dead moron but remember what I said about Sucre?” Michael nodded as Rackham continued, loud enough for everyone to hear, circling the group like a shark. “T-Bag is dead, which means that I’m in charge of the purity gang.”
“Like fuck it does, you weren’t second in command!” Michael flinched as Anderson shot out of his seat.
“Doesn’t matter, I’m leader now.”
“T did make Anderson second in command, which means that he’s the new leader. T would have wanted it that way, he didn’t like you.”
Rackham began giggling, as though it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, “Riley?”
“Yeah?”
“Remember whose bed you sleep curled up in at night. Nobody cares what you think T-Bag would have wanted. Whores don’t get to vote. And just where do you think you’re going?”
Tweener froze as all eyes turned to him and his not so graceful attempt to escape unnoticed, “well you don’t really need me here.”
“I want you here Apolskis; you fought on our side in the riot right? That makes you one of us by association and I’m extending an invitation to you to join up fully.”
“I’m not a whore.”
“I didn’t say that you were; you’d be in that grey area between the rags and the princes of the group.”
“You don’t have a damn right to invite him, only T-Bag can!” Anderson was almost hissing his words, moving so that he was standing right in Rackham’s face and Michael noticed that the whole hall had gone quiet, everyone wondering what was going to happen next.
“But T-Bag’s dead and I’m the leader now and it’s the leader that gets to invite people.”
“You are not the leader.”
“Show of hands? Who thinks that I should be leader?” Two hands went up around the table, neither of the owners anyone that Michael had spent time with and Rackham sighed mockingly, “Riley, why isn’t your hand up?”
“Because I liked T…”
“T-Bag is dead.”
“Then I like Anderson.”
“What did I say about remembering whose bed you’re sharing?”
“And then you said that whores can’t vote so how could I raise my hand if I can’t vote?”
“Just put your fucking hand up!” Riley obeyed and Michael heard the hiss slightly dissipate from Anderson’s tone.
“Looks like I win. Thanks for asking for a vote, saves a lot of trouble.”
“Let me put it this way, put your hand up if you have a little secret that you know that I know but don’t want anyone else to know that I know?” Instantly most of the hands around the table rose, “Scofield? I know you should be voting for me,” Michael joined the vote, casting an apologetic glance towards Greg who, far from hoisting his hand had taken to sitting on them.
“Sorry Andy, guess I win after all. You can change your mind of course, step down and, as you so helpfully remarked, save a lot of trouble.”
“Bite me.” Anderson signalled to the remaining supportive members to stand, trundling to stand behind him.
Rackham’s lip curled into a snarl, “you’re not going to win. And you’re going to regret even thinking about it.”
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Post by Dingley on Jun 3, 2007 15:48:53 GMT 1
Great work, but is T-Bag really dead??
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