CHAPTER 1 – The Weakest Man in Prison
Nobody in Blackridge Maximum Security Prison dared challenge Marcus Kane.
Standing nearly six feet seven inches tall, covered in faded gang tattoos, and carrying a permanent scar across his face, Marcus had ruled every prison he'd ever entered. Guards avoided eye contact. Inmates surrendered their food trays before he even asked.
There was only one rule inside Blackridge.
If Marcus wanted something... it became his.
New inmates learned that lesson within hours.
Old inmates never forgot it.
Then one rainy Monday morning, an old man walked through the prison gates carrying nothing but a rusty toolbox and an old wooden cane.
His name was Walter Hayes.
According to the paperwork, he was seventy-four years old.
Thin.
Bent over.
Gray-haired.
Wearing thick glasses repaired with tape.
He had recently been hired as the prison's maintenance worker after the previous janitor retired.
The guards barely noticed him.
The inmates laughed the moment they saw him.
"What kind of joke is this?"
"They hired Grandpa?"
"He won't survive until lunch."
Walter simply smiled politely.
"I'll stay out of everyone's way."
Marcus watched from the second-floor balcony.
The enormous inmate grinned.
"Looks like today's entertainment just arrived."
His gang burst into laughter.
Walter quietly pushed his cleaning cart through the prison cafeteria.
He never looked anyone in the eyes.
He politely apologized whenever someone bumped into him.
To everyone watching...
...he looked terrified.
Exactly the kind of victim Marcus loved.
At lunch, Marcus deliberately blocked Walter's path.
The cafeteria instantly fell silent.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
Everyone knew what was coming.
Marcus slowly reached into Walter's cleaning cart and picked up the old man's lunch.
A stale sandwich.
One apple.
A bottle of water.
Marcus threw the sandwich across the room.
The apple rolled across the floor.
The water bottle exploded against the wall.
Laughter erupted.
Walter bent down slowly, trying to collect what remained.
Marcus kicked the cane out from beneath him.
The old man crashed onto the concrete.
The cafeteria roared with laughter.
Marcus leaned over him.
"You've got two choices, old man."
"You kiss my boots..."
"...or you don't eat today."
Walter looked up through cracked glasses.
His breathing remained calm.
His expression never changed.
Then he quietly asked...
"Son..."
"Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?"
The laughter grew even louder.
Marcus slapped Walter across the face.
"You don't ask me questions."
"You answer them."
Walter slowly picked up his glasses.
Carefully wiped away the dust.
Placed them back on his face.
Then...
For the very first time...
He stood completely straight.
His back no longer looked bent.
His hands stopped shaking.
His eyes...
Were no longer those of a frightened old janitor.
Every guard watching suddenly froze.
One elderly correctional officer dropped the coffee cup from his hands.
It shattered across the floor.
His face turned completely pale.
He whispered only four words.
"Oh my God..."
"That's General Hayes."
Marcus frowned.
"The hell did you just say?"
The old officer's voice trembled.
"You idiot..."
"You just hit the man who built this prison's tactical response program..."
"...and trained every special operations unit in this state."
The laughter disappeared.
Every inmate stared at Walter.
The old man calmly dusted off his shirt.
Then looked directly into Marcus's eyes.
For the first time...
Marcus felt something he hadn't experienced in twenty years.
Fear.
And he still had absolutely no idea...
May you like
...that the worst part was yet to come.
END OF CHAPTER 1
