“I told you not to sweat it. I know what I’m doing. They received a lot of money.”
Jet dropped the subject. They were committed to their course, so there was no point in agonizing over hypotheticals. If Yulia didn’t perform, they’d have to improvise, and as much as Jet hated doing so, that was no worse than any of the alternatives she’d come up with while in solitary. Depending on the security, there might be opportunity – the last thing crooked guards pimping out prisoners would be expecting was for their captives to go on the offensive, especially if drugs and alcohol were involved, which Yulia had intimated would be the case.
“Any problems with the three who attacked you?” Jet asked.
“Not that I’ve heard. Two are still in the infirmary and the third was switched to a different cell. But the fight was all anyone was talking about today. You’ve become a legend here in your first twenty-four hours.”
“So much for keeping a low profile.”
“It’s a little late for that,” Yulia agreed. “I sent word to my people on the outside about it being definitely on for tonight, but I haven’t heard back yet.”
“That doesn’t trouble you?”
“Not really. From their standpoint, it shouldn’t matter. Our change inside the prison doesn’t alter that we’ll be out tonight, which is where they’ll come into play.”
“How reliable are these people – who exactly are they?”
Yulia looked around to ensure nobody was within earshot. “They came up with the money, didn’t they? I’m satisfied they’ll come through.” Yulia gave Jet a smile. “The guards will come for us after dinner. We’re to have a little fight with each other, and they’ll take us to solitary, like they did with you yesterday. Just don’t kill me, okay?”
“I think I can manage that.”
“All right. I have to start the evening mess shift in a few minutes. I’ll see you after we eat. Wait until everyone’s back in the cell and then I’ll start an argument with you. They’ll be watching for it, so it shouldn’t take too long for them to intervene.”
Dinner was another bowl of nauseating slop, and Jet only nibbled at it. Yulia stayed on the far side of the cafeteria, and nobody else sat near Jet while she ate. She caught the sidelong glances from a few prisoners, but that was to be expected from the cell block gossip, and she didn’t read anything into it.
After the shuffle back to the cell, one of the guards lingered by the door, and Yulia came at her right on cue.
“I told you to stay away from my shit!” she yelled, and made to pull Jet’s hair.
Jet fumbled a block and they went down in a tumble as the other inmates encircled them with enthusiastic cries. But unlike the prior evening, the guards broke up the ruckus in seconds and separated Jet and Yulia moments later.
“You two are going to solitary,” one of them announced. “You know the rules.”
“She started it,” Yulia protested.
“I’m finishing it. Shut your trap or you’ll regret it,” the guard closest to Yulia threatened with a wave of her truncheon. “Let’s go. Move. Both of you.”
The guards led them to the men’s side of the prison, and once in the solitary wing, Yulia’s face stiffened when two male guards met their female counterparts and took custody of them before leading them to a cell.
“You’ll wait in here. The customers will be here soon, and then it’s showtime,” one of them said, directing Jet and Yulia through the doorway.
“Wait. We still need to know what we’re being paid,” Yulia said. “Where’s the boss?”
“He couldn’t make it. You’ll get whatever he decides to pay you. Got a problem with that?”
“I do,” Jet said. “I’m not going to do anything if I don’t know the rate.”
The guard neared her and tapped her chin with his truncheon. “Got some spirit, don’t you? Look, here’s how this works: you cooperate, or I beat you to a bloody pulp. I don’t have time to play games. So what’s it going to be?”
“That wasn’t the deal.”
“That’s the only deal you’re being offered. Whenever the boss gets here, you can take it up with him. But it’s not my job to negotiate with a pair of whores, so either get in the cell, or I’ll drag you in there by the hair after pounding your faces so hard your own mothers wouldn’t recognize you.”
Yulia backed away from the guards and into the cell, and Jet followed. When the door slammed shut, Jet turned to the Ukrainian. “What the hell’s going on, Yulia?”
Yulia appeared crestfallen. “I…I don’t know. These aren’t our guards.”
“I gathered that. What happened? Or more importantly, what do we do now?”