Chapter 18 - A Letter from the Inside
Six months into my deployment, a letter arrived in my secure diplomatic pouch.
It was forwarded from my mother's address, heavily screened and sterilized by NCIS before it reached my desk. The return address was the Federal Correctional Institution in Leavenworth, Kansas.
It was from Marcus.
I sat in my private quarters, staring at the envelope. Part of me wanted to shred it immediately, but my tactical curiosity won out. I opened the letter.
The handwriting was erratic, a desperate scrawl.
Evelyn. They transferred me to general population today. The inmates found out I used to be a cop. They know why I’m in here. The guards don't care. I’m writing to beg you, please talk to the warden. Use your influence. Get me moved to protective custody. I won't survive the week out here. I’m sorry for everything. Just please, help me.
I read the letter twice, my expression entirely unreadable.
He was experiencing exactly what my mother had experienced for ten years: absolute, suffocating terror, surrounded by people who wanted to hurt him, with absolutely nowhere to run.
Karma wasn't just a concept; it was a physical reality playing out in a concrete cell in Kansas.
May you like
I took a lighter from my desk drawer, held the corner of the letter to the flame, and dropped it into the metal wastebasket. I watched the desperate pleas curl into black ash and smoke, feeling absolutely nothing but a profound, satisfying apathy.
I walked out of my quarters and locked the door. I had a fleet to run.
