Seanday Rush: Prison Pass

I'm taking a break for a whil, but just to entertain you I'm reposting some of my favourite stories -- I hope you enjoy them as well.

Sean.

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Reagan was woken from his sleep by a clatter against the bars of his cell. "What the fuck?"

"Language!" The guard shouted, "Get dressed. The supervisor wants to see you?"

"See my secretary, I'm busy," Reagan grunted and turned over.

The cell door rattled as it opened. The crackle of a taser stick caught the inmates attention. "All right, I'm getting up!"

Reagan jumped off the bunk and pulled on his bright orange coveralls, tying the sleeves around his waist. "Hurry up, we don't want to keep the supervisor waiting," the guard sneered.

Reagan left the cell, followed by the guard. The cell clattered as it closed again. His cell mate watched them leave before turning over and continued his sleep.

The pair continued down the corridor, flanked by cells to the left and right. "What's this about? I've been keeping my nose clean."

"You'll find out, he's got something special planned for you Reagan. Wait here! Open door B4H," the guard muttered into his radio. The door slid open with a grind. "Walk on."

"Where's this place lead to?" Reagan asked, but the guard said nothing. They turned another corner, in front of them was a steel frame, something similar to a metal detector. "What's going on, I'm clean. I'm not carrying anything."

"What you are Mr Reagan is a trusted individual," another voice replied. "You have a presence in this establishment that's respected by other inmates. Supplemented my your--strength."
Reagan turned to see who was talking. He looked at the slim built individual dressed in baggy paper overalls. "And? I've worked hard to get where I am. When you're in for life you need to make a mark. Bust some balls sometimes."

"Yes, we've been watching you, helping you."

"I don't need your help!"

"No, you don't Mr Reagan, but lets just say we've been opening doors and giving you opportunities to help you up the pecking order." White overalls nodded at the guard.

The taser stick crackled into life. "Get undressed Reagan," the guard growled.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Get undressed Mr Reagan, make it easy for yourself," white overalls added. Reagan's eyes flicked towards the guard, who held up the cracking stick. Reluctantly he loosened the arms of the overalls and dropped them to the floor. Grasping the vest he pulled it over his head, his muscular arms and back flexed. He locked his eyes on white overalls as he pulled his boxers off and finished by kicking his sneakers to the side.

Reagan stood there--hands on his hips. He was a strong, confident individual. "Now what?" He asked.

White coveralls jerked his head towards Reagan. The crackle increased echoing around the small corridor. Reagan whole body spasmed and convulsed as the guard jabbed the taser stick into Reagan's back.

Reagan tried to scream, but found himself paralysed to the spot. He shuddered and dropped to the ground--a dead weight. White overalls rolled him over and checked his pulse. "How long?"

"Ten minutes or so," the guard replied.

"Good enough." White coveralls kneeled next to Reagan and rubbed his hands together. He placed his right hand on the convicts face, his left hand on Reagan's impressive pectoral. He started to take deep breaths, almost gasping. The guard watched as their breathing matched in time.

A glow around white coverall's hands appeared. Its intensity increased to the level that the guard had to turn away. The atmosphere surrounding the two, changed into a deep oppressive weight. There was a groan, deep and low. The brilliant light, suddenly blinked out. The guard turned back to see Reagan in white coveralls kneeling over a naked slim built man.

"Holly crap, I'd never believe it if I hadn't seen it myself," the guard spluttered.

The new Reagan got to his feet and pulled himself from the now tight coveralls. "We needed someone on the inside, somebody to control the men. What better than me?" Reagan slapped his pecs and flexed a bicep. He picked up the convicts boxers and pulled them on, next the vest and finally the orange coveralls. "Setup a meeting with he governor tomorrow, I'll have absorbed all of Reagan's memories by then," he told the guard tying the arms of the coveralls around his waist. Reagan held out his hand, "Cuffs." The guard handed a pair over and Reagan secured the still unconscious man to an iron loop buried in the wall. "Don't want him disappearing with my body."

"No problem sir, I'll make sure he's sent to isolation and taken care of."

Reagan rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles. "Better get back to the cell. I'll put some pressure on the cellmate to make sure he says nothing about my late night meeting."

The guard escorted the new Reagan back to his cell and locked him in. "Keep your nose clean Reagan," the guard muttered before leaving. He returned the transformed Reagan now looking like the slim built man--he'd recovered from the taser and was sitting against the wall. The guard removed the cuffs and handed him the white coveralls. "Get dressed."

The slim man snorted a laugh, "So I'm James Slater now, this is so perfect."

"McMillan wanted you out, so he set this up."

"What about the real Slater, is he in on this as well?"

"No, he thinks he's there to control the inmates--just for a couple of weeks. I think he's going to be there a lot longer."

"Yeah, I know. I'm starting to remember everything he knows. So the governor is waiting for an update? We should go tell him that the transfer failed."

Slater followed the guard to the office block. The governor was sitting at his desk and his eyes narrowed when he saw Slater enter un-cuffed. The slim man sat in a chair with a confident air about him. "Governor, some bad news I'm afraid."

"Don't disappoint me Slater," the governor muttered. "We need someone on the inside, there's murmurs of a riot."

"I tried the transfer, but it didn't take. Somehow he rejected me."

"Great! Don't think you'll be paid for this failure Slater."

"There maybe some residue of the attempt left in Reagan, don't take anything he says seriously." Slater got to his feet and left the office. Returning to the locker room he exchanged the coveralls for Slater's street clothes. He looked at the guard, "You know you should keep your mouth shut about this."

"Of course and make sure that 'Reagan' doesn't make any trouble."

"Good, you'll be rewarded for your loyalty," Slater said as he left.