Deleted thread

[CutiePie1997]

Deleted. we are writing this elsewhere

 

[TiredFingers]

Three days of lockdown weren't that much different than three normal days in prison for Cooper Thomas. He'd been in protective custody since his incarceration began more than two years ago. That was how they jailed former cops, of course, to keep them from being shivved on their first day in jail.

Even though he'd been convicted of more than 30 charges related to his rather rough handling of a cartel hit squad, Cooper had still been harboring hopes that he was going to be getting out of jail sometime in the near future. His lawyer had been working on showing that: one, he'd been setup as part of a conspiracy between the cartel and dirty cops; and two, that the prosecution, who Cooper accused of also being part of the frame, had fabricated a great deal of the evidence against him.

Of course, even during his normal day of 23 hours in his cell and 1 in the yard, Cooper at least got to eat food and drink water. The warden had been kind enough to deliver some of both that first day. But he hadn't seen her or the screw who'd been escorting her since.

 

[TiredFingers]

Cooper heard the odd sound of bio-suit footsteps nearing his cell. It had been two days since the last visit. The knock was followed by by the Warden's question, "Can we talk, Mister Thomas?"

"We'll, I'm entertaining at the moment," Cooper joked from beyond the door, "but sure, I can make the time. Come in."

Daria unlocked and opened the door, saying, "I need your help, Detective Thomas."

"Detective?" Cooper responded. "Sounds official. You might remember that I'm not a cop anymore, Warden."

She talked about their situation and her renegade Screws. "I need three things from you."

Daria explained what she called her three things. Cooper understood about getting the bodies out. "We're going to need more help. The two of us aren't enough. It'll take us weeks."

About the food and water, Cooper said, "I could use some water myself if you don't mind, Warden."

When she brought up her renegade COs, Cooper understood why she'd left that for last. He was surprised to learn that Daria had armed her Screws with shotguns inside the prisons walls.

"...I need you to help me take them down," Daria told him. "Non-lethal. I don't want to kill them. I just need them out of the store room."

"It's just the two of them?" Cooper asked. "Shotguns? Nothing more, though, right? What about body armor?"

He wasn't surprised that the two men had full body armor, including riot shields and helmets. It wouldn't matter, though, not with what Cooper has in mind.

Daria asked, "Can I depend on you for this, Mister Thomas?"

"You can, Warden," Cooper answered. He told her his idea to get the upper hand, asking, "When do we go?"

 

[TiredFingers]

"I never believed all that shit they said about you in court," Daria told Cooper. She confessed to having followed the live broadcast of his trial.

"Well, I appreciate that, Warden," he said. "And please, call me Cooper, or Coop even."

They spoke about the help Cooper said they would need. Daria mentioned visitors who were still inside the prison.

That surprised Cooper greatly. He would never have imagined that visitors had been trapped inside by the lockdown.

Normal procedure during a normal lockdown was to get the civilians away from the prison. That included visitors and noon-CO staff.

But then Cooper reminded himself that this was no normal lockdown. This virus was killing people everywhere.

Daria spoke of inmates I think I can trust to help with the work. Cooper was concerned with that, of course. He'd spent 12 years of his life putting people in jail for being untrustworthy despite seeming to be the opposite.

"I'd appreciate it, Warden," Cooper said, "if you would let me be a part of that decision making. You haven't been here long, as you yourself said. I know these people. Just let me help with that. Their records on paper don't always tell the whole truth about them "

Daria provided Cooper with food and water from the vending machines. Their wrappers and the plastic bag she'd put them had protected them from the virus when she'd carried them through the prison.

That left Cooper wondering. Would they would be able to do as Daria wanted, sanitizing the prison of the virus. What exactly would it take to make this place safe again?

Cooper hadn't had access to the ongoing news reports of the plague obviously. He'd been told nothing about how it was being transmitted or stopped. He was sure Daria would catch him up.

Cooper asked when Daria wanted to get on with her three things. She said, "Right away. Eat, drink, and get dressed. I, um ... I'd appreciate any advice you might want to give me on how to do this."

Cooper listened to Daria's confession about how she'd gotten her job. It didn't surprise him, of course. The current Governor has been involved in a number of negative issues. They'd threatened his future as Governor. He was just the type to appoint unqualified people for political reasons.

But what Daria didn't know about Cooper was that he knew about her. He'd been familiar with her career path back before his own troubles had begun. There may indeed have been more qualified men for the job. But Cooper knew that Daria had had what it took.

He didn't tell her that now, though. Cooper knew that it benefited him for Daria to believe she wasn't up to the task. That she needed him. If they got through this, maybe he'd give her the pay on the back that she deserved.

As part of her confession, Daria told Cooper, "I only turned 38 last month."
Cooper chuckled. "38? Really? You don't look a day over 28."

Inside the bully, awkward bio-suit, there wasn't enough of Daria visible for Cooper to make such a statement. But he'd seen her up close at an event at an Atlanta Hotel once. It had been a big deal for the anniversary of the Georgia State Police. All Cooper had been able to think was how badly he would have liked to get her upstairs to one of the hotel's rooms.

About her inexperience, Daria said, "So, if you have an idea or two from your days as a police officer, I'd listen."

He'd already wolfed down the food and drank the bottle of water. Stepping into the bio-suit, Cooper said, "I have an idea about that, but it requires a visit to the armory. Any problem with that?"

The armory wasn't part of the prison over which the two renegade Screws had control. But it wasn't really that control that Cooper was asking about. He was asking if Daria minded letting a con, him, near the prison's arms, armor, and more.

She didn't, obviously, or she wouldn't have been here talking to him. He finished zipping up and wrapped his wrists and ankles against exposure to the outside with duct tape.

"Lead the way, Warden, he told her.

 

[TiredFingers]

Cooper stepped into the armory and smiled. It was small in comparison to those out of which he'd worked as a big city cop in Atlanta. But like Daria was thinking, it was far more than they needed considering the circumstances.

"It won't take much," Cooper told Daria. He donned a riot vest and helmet, attached four flash bangs to the former, and retrieved, then loaded a bean bag shotgun. Turning to Daria, Cooper said, "Okay. Let's get this done."

He explained the plan on the way to the chow hall.

 

[TiredFingers]

Cooper didn't have a problem with Daria packing heat once she'd told him that the COs expected it. He told her, "Actually, I think we can work that into the plan."

Minutes later she was engaging one Screw at the double doors while Cooper was slipping down a secondary passageway toward the Chute. The moment it opened, he ran at it. He tossed two of the flash bangs, his movement passed the chute sending them into different areas of the kitchen.

They exploded with powerful blasts as Cooper continued forward, listening to Daria empty her Beretta. He slowed to ensure she was done shooting up the door. He'd hoped that she would weaken the door enough to let him slammed his way through it. Instead, her skilled aim had devastated the lock and even pushed the door open a bit.

Cooper pushed one of the doors open, tossed the last two flash bangs, and hollered to Daria, "Cover your ears and face."

He moved back to the wall for protection and covered his ears. This close to the explosive devices he couldn't be sure that he wouldn't be affected, too. Boom! Boom! He swung the bean bag shotgun off his shoulder and rushed into the chow hall.

Cooper was immediately faced by the man who'd been at the door. He instinctively raised the shotgun and fired one round, then a second at the man, center mass. The man teetered backward with the first bag, then toppled to his back with the second.

"Watch him!" Cooper hollered to Daria as he rushed from the chow hall toward the kitchen.

The seconds had ticked away since he'd tossed the first two flash bangs. He knew that there was a possibility that the man might have already recovered. As he burst through the swinging doors, Cooper did a nosedive across the tiled floor. He aimed the shotgun aimed in the general direction of where they man was expected to be.

The caution turned out to be warranted as the CO's began unloading his shotgun in the general direction of the door that Cooper had just crashed through. The man was aiming high, though, obviously still affected by the flash bangs. Again, Cooper began firing: once, twice, thrice.

He hit the man with all three bean bags, but only the third one had any impact. It had struck him in the forehead, causing him to teeter back like the first CO and thump full force on the floor, knees up before him.

Cooper got to his feet, checked that the man was unconscious, and looked out to Daria. Seeing that their attack had worked, he smiled wide to her, flashed her an okay gesture, and returned to the second man to secure him with zip ties in the small of his back.

 

[TiredFingers]

(OOC -- obviously, Cooper is both dressed in inmate garb and inside a bio-suit. Still, I thought it would be appropriate to post his image below, out of context, to illustrate why he's so easily able to do what he's doing.)

Cooper emerged from the kitchen again to look for Daria. He found her over the top of the first CO, her gun pointed at his head. He had to smile. He knew that the Beretta was empty. He'd seen the slide back after Daria had mutilated the door locks.

Behind him, he was dragging the unconscious Screw by his zip tied wrists. He released his hold on the CO when the man was near his cowering buddy.

Then, he did something that he expected would cause surprise, if not shock, in Daria: he removed his bio-suit's hood. Half turning, he showed her a two-foot-long rip in the fabric between his arm pit and his waist. He explained, "I caught it on something sliding, I guess."

He looked to the conscious CO and asked, "Can you hear me? You got your hearing back yet?"

The man nodded his head. Cooper lowered the end of the beanbag shotgun barrel to man's forehead. The CO's eyes widened as Cooper said bluntly, "I'm a Con, on Death Row, in a dying world. I'm probably infected now thanks to you and your buddy's selfishness. I mean, c'mon, hording food and while there are people out here dying. Civilians? I'm not even talking about the Cons. The Warden tells me there's women and children in the Visitors Room."

"It wasn't my idea," the CO defended. He looked to the body next to him which, for all he knew, was dead. "It was him."

"Whaddaya think the odds are that I won't kill you if you do something that pisses me off?" Cooper asked.

"I won't! I won't!" the CO said quickly. "I won't piss you off! You'll get no fuss from me."

"Get up," Cooper ordered, backing away to a safe distance. When the man was up, Cooper ordered, "Take off your suit." The man hesitated. Cooper pointed the shotgun at his nose. "If I'm infected because of you and your shit buddy, you're going to be infected, too. Either that or dead. Choose."

Quickly, the CO began stripping. When he was down to his work uniform, the dark fabric in his groin revealed that his bladder had emptied. Cooper shook his head but let it go for now.

Looking to Daria, Cooper asked, "So, what's next Warden? Do we lock them up? Or do we send them out into the world?"

 

[TiredFingers]

Cooper knew that he was already infected if the virus was in the air. He told Daria simply, "Too late."

He asked her what she wanted to do with the men. She surprised him by saying without hesitation, "He goes out. He doesn't deserve the safety of this place."

The man begged, "No, wait, Warden, it wasn't my idea!"

"Shut up," Cooper ordered as he fitted his wrists with zip ties.

"He goes, too," Daria went on about the unconscious man. "I'm sorry. I just don't trust him to remain here."

"I agree," Cooper responded, just as confidently. He grabbed and maneuvered the conscious man to the unconscious man's hands. "Take hold and start dragging."

The CO did his best to argue against his sentence. The shotgun and sidearm, though, led him to do as told. He was sobbing in fear and despair by the time Daria had gotten them through all the security to the exterior door. Cooper had to shove the man outside to get him free of the door as it closed. Through the glass he called, "We'll open the gates. Git! And don't come back!"

Once he was finally walking away, Cooper looked to Daria, then to the pistol still in her hands. He smiled, then offered out the shotgun. "There's still a round in it, in case you feel you need it to put me back in my cell."

 

[TiredFingers]

Cooper wasn't surprised when Daria let him keep the shotgun. She'd put her trust in him, and he'd come through. She still needed his help. She told him, which she confirmed telling him, "You may still need it."

She told him what she needed from him when they reached her office. Then she spoke about the future at WGCF. She added on a more personal note, "I'd like it if you'd stay, too."

She spoke of how he should never have been convicted and incarcerated. "And, if you want it, this is your opportunity to get out of here."

He thought for a moment about the offer. He had nothing waiting for him out there in the world. His wife had left him during the trial. She hadn't believed that he deserved jail. But she'd also known that he could be violent.

He'd never raised a hand to her and never would have. But she'd had difficulty believing that. His second day behind bars, he'd received divorce papers, which he'd dutifully signed.

He had parents and siblings out in the world. But Daria had told him that the virus's death toll was in the 95% range. What were the chances that any of them had survived. Not only that, but they'd also abandoned him after his incarceration. He hadn't had a visit, letter, or phone call from any of them. He hoped they'd survived the plague. But he had no reason to contact them.

"I'll stay," Cooper told Daria. He flashed the clipboard. "And I'll go through this. I like to think I'm a good judge of character. I think I can help with this."

 

[TiredFingers]

"...right now, we need to deal with the civilians," Daria told Cooper. "I've been doing what I can to get them food and water, but it hasn't been enough."

"We have to deal with the bodies first, in my humble opinion," he countered. "How about this: you start feeding and watering the survivors, and I start taking the bodies to the incinerator?"

The prison had an incinerator for burning the bodies of those prisoners. It hadn't been used in more than two decades for that purpose. It had only been for those who'd died behind bars and didn't have a next-of-kin on the record for claiming the body. It had been abandoned and replaced with burial in the County's pauper's plot a few miles away.

It was still fully functional, though. The previous Warden, a corrupt son-of-a-bitch if ever there had been one, had used it to incinerate most of the prison's trash waste. By doing that, he'd reduced the waste disposal costs by 80%. But he hadn't reported the savings. Instead, he'd still listed the cost in the budget and had been pocketing the savings himself.

Daria then shocked him by suddenly pulling off her bio-suit's hood. He exclaimed, "What the fuck, Warden?"

"If I die, and if you survive," she said, "I expect you to take care of these people."

"Me?" he responded with a laugh. "Seriously?"

"Will you do that for me, Coop?" she asked as she began shedding her suit.

He sat there simply watching her expose herself. Cooper had become an inmate here just three weeks after Daria had become the warden. And yet, he'd only ever been this close to her the one time that they'd been introduced to one another. They'd been on opposites of a window through which he'd only been able to see Daria's face.

Now, though, he got to see her body. She had a nice shape to her, and Cooper couldn't help but ogle her from head to legs and back up again. He couldn't help but imagine seeing her strip all the way to her skin. He couldn't help but imagine her bent over her desk as he, also naked, rammed her hard, deep, fast, and repeatedly from behind.

"Yeah, I'll help stick around and help these people if you die, Warden," he said. Cooper didn't honestly know whether he would or not. If she was to croak, he might load himself up with firepower and food and hit the road. But right now, with what was going through his head, this was the right response. "But you're not going to die. I forbid it."

He smiled and chuckled. Then standing, he shed his own bio-suit, saying, "When in Rome..."

They decided to get to their appointed jobs.

 

[TiredFingers]

"Let's get to work then," Daria told Cooper. She retrieved him the necessary keys and sat at her computer.

Cooper reviewed the inmate files as she worked on the worked to gain him access to the entire prison. One file after another went into one of three piles: ejection, retention, and don't know if still alive. With the number of dead already identified, the number of files wasn't large. They still have to determine the status of about 20 inmates, though.

"Okay," she finally spoke up, telling him, "Your set."

He flopped the last file down, saying, "Good timing. I'm done, too, for now."

Cooper pointed to each of the stacks as he explained. "These men need to be shown the door. I'd never feel comfortable having them here out and about, particularly with civilians still in our midst. That means you shouldn't have to deal with them at all. That stack are the men I think we can trust, men we should at least give a chance. Those are the ones I think we could trust but who might very well be dead. I'll check on them, too."

They talked about supplying food and water to the retaining men, and Cooper made his way out of the office to get to work. First, he spoke to the to be retained, asking them if they'd prefer to hit the road or stay here where it might be safer. Nearly every one of them was totally surprised that the Warden was going to simply open the doors. Cooper explained to them that the old world with its old rules and expectations was gone. "It's a new world."

He was only able to recruit 5 men to stay around. Of them, 2 said they likely wouldn't stay long. They needed to get their strength back first. Cooper provided each of them with some of the perishable food that he and Daria knew needed to be eaten before it went bad. (She was doing the same for the civilians, she'd told him.)

There were 14 other Cons still alive who said they preferred to get the hell out of Dodge. Copper told them that was fine, but they had to work for it first. The men paired up to carry the dead to just outside the nearest of two main entrances. It took less than two hours to clear the prison of corpses.

Each man was then given a to-go bag of a day's worth of food, drink, and water. After that, Cooper had Daria operate the gates to let the men out. Cooper warned them as they were leaving, "We're opening the gates for some less than desirable types in a couple of hours. If I was you, I'd get away from here. They're being ejected for a reason, and I wouldn't want that reason to come back on you."

One of the men retained men had been a Trustee working in the Chow Hall. Cooper asked Jackson "Blackjack" Green if he could inventory the kitchen stocks. He wanted to know what food they had left and what food needed to be eaten first before it spoiled.

"Consider it done," Blackjack told Cooper. Then he clarified, "I mean, consider it done 'cause it already is. I have it all on a tablet in the kitchen already."

"Can you print it out?" Cooper asked. He explained, "We might lose power at some point, and if you can't charge that tablet--"

"No, no, I understand," Blackjack said. "All I need to do is get into the Facilities Manager's office."

The two of them planned to do that later in the day. They both went back to work. Cooper's next task was to eject the men he didn't want to keep around. He used the remaining four retainees for this. They had to move one ejectee at a time. They zip tied their hands, escorted them to the prison bus, cuffed them to the metal seat bars, and told them to be patient.

This took forever. It was almost dark by the time they'd finished. Once the last man was loaded, Cooper drove the bus ten miles out from the prison. It was eerie to see the rural area the way it was.

There were no cars on the road. He remembered apocalyptic movies in which there were always cars crashed in ditches. Abandoned on the shoulders. Stuck in massive traffic jams. There was none of that here. It was as if everyone was simply in their respective homes somewhere. Watching the Superbowl, he thought to himself. Each and every one of them.

He stopped the bus in the parking lot of a grocery store. Here he did find signs of the apocalypse. The store had been looted, then burned. There were dead bodies on the pavement, but their deaths didn't seem virus related. As the inmate's cuffs were removed, Cooper stood over them with a shotgun. He explained, "Be good, and you're free. Free to go anywhere you want, as long as it isn't back to the prison. Be bad, and I'll shoot you down."

Luckily, the process went off without incident. Cooper sent the retainees out of the bus, then followed them. The fifth man Cooper had kept had followed them in one of the prison's vans. As the others loaded up, Cooper blew out four of the bus's tires. He knew that if the inmates wanted to get back to the prison, they could always go steal a car. But he wasn't going to make this easy for them.

Besides, why in the world would they want to go back to WGCF? They were free to go wherever they wanted now.

They headed back to the prison. Cooper announced their imminent arrival over the radio, and the gates opened and closed one after another to let them back inside. Cooper told the men they needed to return to and be again locked inside their cells for now. "Just until we have more time to speak about how things are going to take place here."

One of the men asked, "Why aren't we dead, Coop? I mean, we ain't wearing those germ suits. You ain't. Why ain't we dead?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Maybe were immune. I mean, it would make sense. Every virus I've ever heard of had people who were immune to it."

He finished up with the men, went to the kitchen to wolf down some food, and returned to his own cell. He told Daria over the radio that he was lying down, presuming she didn't need him for anything.

 

[TiredFingers]

Cooper asked Daria for the numbers when he returned. "23 of us? We can make that work, I guess."

The immediate concerns were food, water, power, and security. Cooper trusted his judgement in which men he'd selected to remain behind. But his judgement had failed him in the past, of course.

There'd been a wife who'd cheated on him almost from the start of their marriage. He'd tried to make things work with her, only to have her run off with his car, his cash, and his baseball card collection.

There'd been an Atlanta Police Department partner who'd had gambling debts. The partner had shared information on a RICO case that had resulted in a deadly shootout. Cooper had been shot through the thigh that had left him in the hospital for a week. His partner, however, had taken a round through the forehead, leaving him in the cemetery forever.

And then there was the case that had sent him to jail. He'd allowed himself to be duped by a crooked DEA Agent who'd been working for the very cartel that he'd been trying to take down for almost 6 years. In the end, Cooper had been charged with, convicted of, and sentenced for a multitude of crimes. Only a handful of them had been real acts by him, but they'd all been acts of violence again cartel members in the furtherance of his investigation. He didn't consider them as illegal.

One of today's decisions of which he was happy was that of selecting Jackson "Blackjack" Green to inventory the food stocks. Jackson told him, "The Warden tells me were gonna have about two dozen mouths to feed."

He ran through the perishables like salad and milk and the like. "What we don't consume before it starts going bad can be preserved. My momma taught me to can and dehydrate veggies and stuff as a kid. We can do that here, too."

Jackson showed Cooper a menu that was modified for the smaller number of consumers, as well as fact that they wouldn't be getting replenishment. "All'n'all, now that those two assholes have been eliminated--"

He was talking about the two Screws who'd been booted out, of course. He continued, "--we have enough food to keep everyone happy and healthy for about six months. We'll start running out of some things in about three, but I think I can still fulfill nutritional requirements for one and all."

Cooper laughed. "You don't sound like the normal Con, Blackjack."

Jackson laughed as well. "I worked the kitchen of one of Atlanta's premier restaurants before I got hooked on coke. I'm only here 'cause I bought a quarter-key from an undercover cop."

"I saw that in your file," Cooper verified. "No violence?"

Jackson chuckled loudly, saying, "Never. I was raised better than that."

"I'll see what I can do about getting the Warden to give you free reign over the kitchen and stores," Cooper told the man, offering him a hand. "These aren't my decisions, though, I gotta tell you. Warden Howard's in charge."

Cooper escorted Jackson to his cell, then went to the showers to clean up. He couldn't help but wrap his hand around his cock while thinking about Daria. He would have been surprised to learn that the Warden was fingering herself to fantasies about him, too.

 

[TiredFingers]

Cooper was surprised to find a full breakfast already prepared. Daria told him, "Sit down, get comfortable. I need your belly filled and mind working well, because we have a lot of work and thinking to do today."

"Thinking, huh?" he murmured as he found a seat. "I haven't always been accused of being the best at that."

He was being modest, of course. Cooper had been quiet the detective in his day. He'd worked for the Atlanta Police Department in Homicide, then Narcotics, and with the DEA and ATF on occasion when their cases overlapped. He'd had quite a closure rate right up until he himself had been jailed.

"The only question I have," Daria told him, "is whether or not we bring all of these people together."

Cooper had been thinking about that, too. Cons and civilians? Loose inside the prison together? There was a whole long list of things that could go wrong with that. He hoped that his choice of retainees had been a good one.

Daria continued, "I mean, I don't think that any one of them is going to infect any of the other."

"Oh," Cooper said, "I thought. I mean, I misunderstood." He didn't say aloud what had been on his mind.

She continued, "I think from what I've learned from the Press and from official emails I've received that we've all likely been exposed already."

She talked about what the CDC had said about the virus. It made sense that the survivors were immune to the disease. She told him that she thought they should bring everyone together, asking, "Thoughts?"

"I think you're right, Warden," Cooper agreed. "If this virus was going to kill us all, it already would have."

He rose, telling her, "I'd like to carry some weapons if you don't mind, just in case. Non-lethal. A Taser and an expanding baton. I don't think I need to pack the beanbagger around. I hope it won't be needed."

If Daria was fine with all that, he was ready to gather up the inmates and get them to the chow hall.

 

[TiredFingers]

Introducing Carl Young

Daria talked about the inmates and the man in charge of them, Cooper Thomas. Carl Young knew of Cooper. Carl had met the then-Detective a couple of times while on service calls to the precinct where Cooper had worked. He doubted that Cooper would remember him.

A beautiful, sexy faux-redhead who Carl would learn was named Hannah Taylor asked the equally sexy Warden, Daria Howard, "You fucking him?"

Carl couldn't help but laugh, doing his utmost to silence himself quickly.

The Warden responded, "No, I'm not."

Carl leaned closer to guy he'd learned had been making a delivery when the lockdown occurred. Whispering, he said, "I'd fuck her. The Warden, I mean. Or the redhead."

The delivery driver gave him a disapproving glance, then turned his attention back to Daria. Carl just shrugged.

Daria continued speaking about how the women were to take appropriate precautions when dealing with the Cons. Carl couldn't help but ask, "What about us? I mean, these guys have been in prison for a long time. Maybe one of us might look--"

"That's enough," Daria cut in.

Carl playfully grimaced as if duly chastised. He was going to make a lewd joke about sex in an all-male prison setting to the delivery guy. He didn't. The man had no sense of humor at all.

"Can we sit with Daddy?" a little girl asked.

Carl had noticed the children, of course. They stood out like a sore thumb. He'd felt bad for them for having to visit their male parent figure, father or otherwise, in a State prison. But he was beginning to wonder if this wouldn't turn out to be perfect for them.

"Okay, so, let's go in," Daria said.

She talked about the breakfast that was awaiting them. Carl literally growled to himself. He had a high metabolism rate, and he'd been endlessly hungry since the lockdown began. They entered the chow hall, where he found all of the inmates sitting calmly at one table. They were just sitting there in silence, waiting.

Behind them stood Cooper Thomas. Carl noted immediately that he was no longer wearing prison peel, the orange jumpsuit that the rest of the inmates were wearing. He was currently wearing a Corrections Officer uniform. But at the same time, he wasn't. All of the sewn-on tags had been removed. Carl would learn later that Cooper had wanted the inmates and others to see him as not an inmate while also not a Screw.

Carl also noted the weapons on Cooper's belt: an expandable steel baton in its leather holder on his right hip, and a Taser in its own holder on the left hip. He was surprised that the man wasn't carrying a pistol or shotgun. It really emphasized Cooper's trust in the men he'd chosen to remain behind in WGCF.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and children, too," he former cop, former inmate, current whatever began. "My name is Cooper Thomas. You can all call me Cooper or Coop."

He gestured to the inmates. "We decided that you should make yourself welcome to Blackjack's breakfast--"

Cooper pointed to one of the men standing on the other side of the food line, now waving to acknowledge being pointed out. Cooper continued, "--before the rest of us do. Feel free to grab a tray and fill it and find yourself a place to sit. Silverware, glasses, and napkins are at the end of the line."

Carl didn't need to be asked twice, of course. He headed directly for the stack of trays. He'd just picked one up when Cooper said with a slightly harsh tone, "Women and children first maybe."

Looking sheepishly embarrassed, Carl offered his tray to the nearest child. "I, um, was just getting this for you. Go ahead."

Carl looked back to the inmates to find the two girls in their father's arms. He stood, holding them to him, swinging their legs about playfully as his wife stood nearby, smiling and crying. It was very touching and nearly made Carl cry, too.

Cooper had walked over to speak to the Warden. The inmates stood to join the line after the last of the women and children had entered it. Carl wanted so badly to fall in line ahead of the other men. But he instead handed a tray to the first man, offered a hand, and introduced himself. He would end up doing that with each of the men, one after another. He didn't know why he'd done it. Just something.

Only after the married inmate and his family had begun through the line did he finally enter it. Jackson smiled to him, saying, "That was very polite of you." He leaned a bit closer, whispering, "How 'bout I set you up with a couple of extra link sausages?"

Carl smiled in delight, saying, "All you can. I'm dying here."

 

[TiredFingers]

Cooper would have had to be blind not to notice either Hannah Taylor or the wink she flashed him. He smiled back, then ogled her long and hard as she made her way to the chow line. He didn't know the story behind her visit to WGCF yet, but he was eager to know.

Which of the inmates had been fortunate enough to be awaiting her? And had he survived the virus? Cooper knew the odds were that the man had died. That fact didn't seem to be causing Hannah any despair. That was a good thing, for Cooper, he hoped.

Daria came to stand with Cooper as they watched the others heading for the chow line. He mused, "So far, so good, I guess. The men are behaving at least. Some of them haven't been this close to a beautiful woman in years."

He looked to Daria, smirked devilishly, and clarified with humor so as to protect himself if she didn't appreciate it, "With the exception of you, of course, Warden."

Cooper looked back to Carl. He was still handing out trays with a smile as the last of the civilians passed and the convicts joined the line. He didn't know about the electrician's earlier questions about the possibility that Cooper and Daria were bumping uglies. "Seems to be a nice guy."

He looked to the family reunion taking place off to the side. Nigel Standish hadn't been able to stop talking about seeing his wife, Gwen, and his children, 9-year-old girls, Holly and Polly. Leaning closer to Daria, Cooper opined, "Probably the best news to come out of this fucking mess, don't you think?"

That took Cooper's attention to Samantha "Sammi" Alcott and her children, Connie, Freddie, and Willie. Their story, of course, was a tragic one. Cooper had only heard of the killing of Sammi's husband, Trent, yesterday from Daria when they'd been reviewing which inmates were still alive and which of them would stay. She'd told him about the murder of Trent.

She'd also told him about how the inmate had mysteriously been found dead in his cell from other than virus-related causes. Cooper understood that, of course. Prison murderers didn't remain alive for long after their killings, for a variety of reasons. Some were killed by their victim's friends or fellow gang members. Others were killed by those who'd paid them to perform the killing. Some, as in the cases of attacks on Screws, died of mostly accidents: falling in the shower, hanging themselves in their cells, etc.

Cooper looked to Callie Paul and clenched his teeth. He'd had no idea when he'd asked her husband, Willie, if he wanted to stay in WGCF or leave that the man's wife was in the Visitors Room waiting to see him. Her visit had been a surprise for him.

"Have you told Missus Paul that her husband survived and left?" Cooper whispered to Daria. "Or are you going to tell her he died?"

This wasn't Cooper's decision to be made. And honestly, he didn't know which choice was the better one. If Daria said Willie died, the family would remain here safe with the memory of him dying a horrible death behind bars. Callie would likely take her family out of here to find her husband if she were told the truth.

That choice would put Callie and her children in danger. Cooper had listened and watched the news in Daria's office last night for long enough to know that the world out there had gone mad. Besides the massive loss of life there was looting, hording, assaults and murders, and more.

Cooper looked to yet another beautiful, sexy woman, the Atlanta Assistant District Attorney, Twila Dearing. He knew her, of course: she'd been on the prosecution team that had put him in prison. She'd been at WGCF to offer an inmate, Vic Long, a plea deal on a case she was working on: Cooper's case.

Twila neared the end of the chow line and was collecting her silverware, glasses, and drinks. Cooper excused himself from his conversation with Daria and headed her way. They came together at the coffee pot where Cooper poured himself a mug and asked, "Would you mind sitting with me, Miss Dearing? I thought maybe we could take a moment to clear the air."

If she seemed open to the idea, Cooper would snatch a muffin from a nearby tray and head for the far end of one of the tables.

 

[TiredFingers]

"I was only doing my job, Mister Thomas," Twila said when she sat across from Cooper.

He sipped at his coffee. "I know that, Miss Dearing. I don't place any blame on your efforts."

Cooper sipped at the hot drink again. "You were shown false evidence. I wasn't guilty of what they'd accused me of. At least, not the important stuff. The stuff that put me in here. I just wanted you to know that."

 

[TiredFingers]

Twila wondered aloud whether anything about Cooper's crimes, trial, and incarceration mattered anymore.

"It probably doesn't," he responded. "But what does matter is this: I want you to understand, to believe and trust that I am dedicated to making work whatever this is that we are trying to do here. I won't let anything happen to any of the men, women, and children here. I'll lay my life down if necessary. That is what matters."

A couple of the inmates started to get rowdy about this, that, or the other thing. Cooper stood as he said, "I need to deal with this. But I'd love to have a chance to talk to you again soon. About this or anything else. I just, I just need you to get to know me as the man I am, not the man they told you I am."

He took his coffee with him and went to tend to whatever was happening between the inmates. It turned out to be nothing more than an argument about what was happening outside WGCF now with the pandemic raging across the country. He sat with the men, told them to quiet down in the presence of the women and children, and engaged them in a quiet conversation that would last until something broke them up.

 

[TiredFingers]

(OOC -- You're right. I already had this mostly written. It just needed to be edited for what happened in your latest post. Thanks.)


Cooper listened quietly as the conversation unfolded. He liked the idea that the inmates were no longer to be thought of as prisoners. Even if one of them had just called the civilians prisoners like himself.

"This is now our home," Daria went on. "We are going to have to think of it as such if we are going to prosper here."

An animated conversation began centered around the word prosper as opposed to simply surviving. One of the former inmates asked, "What about when the food runs out?"

"We farm," Cooper responded before anyone else could speak. All eyes turned his way. He explained, "We farm. Inside the outer perimeter fence, we have 15 acres of open land. We can farm it."

"And grow fucking what?" one of the men asked. He got a harsh glare from Cooper and turned to look toward the families with children. "Sorry. Didn't mean that."

"We have a swear jar at home," one of the fraternal twins said. Her sister added, "One dollar for a swear word. Five if it starts with 'F'."

"That isn't too bad an idea, kiddo," Cooper agreed. Looking mostly over the inmates, he said, "New rule: you swear in front of one of the children, you own the community an hour of extra work. You use the 'F' word, make it five."

There were snickers and open laughter, followed by someone asking, "What work?"

"We're going to farm West Georgia, like I said," Cooper continued. He looked to the man who'd asked what they were going to grow and said, "Potatoes and beans to start. Potatoes are easy. You just put'em in the ground and give'em water. A few months later, you're pulling new potatoes out of the ground."

Cooper looked to Jackson, asking, "How many pounds of potatoes do we have?"

The man had a mind for inventory and quickly answered, "We have 14 bags, 40 pounds each. Over 500 pounds."

Cooper continued, "So we eat half of them, plant the other half. One potato will produce 8 to 12 new potatoes on the average. It's April now. We plant, what, 250 pounds over the next couple of weeks, and by, let's see, 110 days at the least--"

The 11-year-old Freddie Alcott piped up energetically, "August 1st." All eyes turned the kids way. He explained, "110 days from now is August 1st. It's also my birthday."

Cooper smiled. "Then on your birthday, Kid, you and I will go out and begin harvesting our first crop of potatoes. How's that sound?"

Freddie smiled with excitement. Around him, the response was anything but as exciting. Cooper continued, "Listen, we can do this. Potatoes are easy. So are beans. The dried beans we have--"

He looked again to Jackson, who knew what the question was and answered, "10 bags of dried red beans, 4 of white."

"Grocery stores, or the packing houses that bag these beans," Cooper continued, "They apply a chemical to the beans that prevent them from sprouting while they're sitting in a bag on the shelf in your kitchen--"

Again, Jackson spoke up, knowing where Cooper was going with this. "About a decade ago, 'bout the same time I ended up in here, the Governor decided that the Corrections Department was going to go green. One of the things they did was they started buying more organic foods for the prisons."

"Our beans," Cooper took over again, "They aren't sprayed with this sh--" He caught himself before he swore, looking and smiling to the fraternal twins. "We only have to wash them off and put them in the ground. And two to three months later--"

Freddie again spoke up, "June 10th is two months. June 10th is three, Mister Thomas."

Cooper laughed. Speaking to the boy, he said, "I'm gonna find you a job scheduling these things."

Someone spoke up, "Okay, so, that's potatoes and beans. But what about everything else we eat here. What about bread and butter and milk--"

"And brownies!" another man called out. Brownies had been one of the specialty desserts from one of the former and now dead inmate cooks in WGCF's prison kitchen.

The room erupted with conversation about not just brownies, farming, and food in general but more. Cooper quieted them down eventually. He continued, "The point is, we can start growing our own food right now--"

"Celery," someone cut in. "Most of the fresh vegetables you guys get. Well, some anyway. You can cut off the ends and put them in water and they'll grow roots. Then, you can plant them. I see it on YouTube all the time. Celery, lettuce, onions. You can put the bottoms of them in water and they'll grow roots, and then you plant them and they'll grow."

"See?" Cooper asked. "We have options. We're not gonna starve. We make a plan for using the land best we can--"

"What about animals?" someone asked. "I mean, a farm needs animals. Hogs, chickens."

Cooper looked to Daria at this. Ranching meant going out past the walls to gather stock animals. He didn't know if that was something she wanted them to be doing.

 

[TiredFingers]

Daria looked to Cooper, asking, "Whaddya think?"

"Sure. Why not?" He thought a moment. "It'd be nice to have bacon once in a while. Maybe a hot wing with our potato fries."

Suddenly, all sorts of facts were being tossed out. Chickens would eat the insects, which were plentiful in the area. Ducks would eat the slugs, which were even more plentiful than the insects. Goats produced milk and could eat more efficiently than cows.

"We'd have to collect building equipment first," Cooper added, "like chicken wire and fencing and water troughs and the like. And feed. If we're going to keep animals, we're gonna need hay, straw, grain."

The conversation continued another half hour. Cooper was surprised at how excited everyone seemed to be. Well, not everyone. There were a few faces that weren't lit up as the others were.

"Before any of this happens," Cooper cut in, "We have to get a few things settled."

The group calmed down, and Cooper continued. "First, government." He looked to Daria, then gestured to her. "The Warden here, who doesn't want to be called Warden anymore, is in charge of this place. Still! Warden, Chief, Mayor, President, Queen, whatever. This is her operation."

Cooper and Daria had spoken of this aspect the day before. But they hadn't come to a conclusion on how things were going to be run. Cooper was concluding that now on his own, without her say so. He continued, "She's in charge by whatever title she wants to assume, and ya'll are going to work and live here by the rules she sets down."

There were, as he expected, some sour faces. Most of them were amongst the Cons, as also expected. They'd lived under the thumb of this Warden and others before Daria. They'd all likely thought that this new world would mean no longer having to answer to such a person. They were wrong, as far as Cooper was concerned.

"Miss Daria Howard is the Queen of West Georgia Correctional Facility, no matter what we decide we're gonna call it," Cooper said forcefully, "and I am her Captain of the Guard. If you don't like it, you were told that you could leave. That's still an option. We'll pack you a little to-go bag and send you on your way."

Looking around, Cooper asked, "Understood?"

 

[TiredFingers]

Cooper listened to the conversation between Daria and Twila. He agreed with her about the simultaneous beauty and ugliness of democracy.

Daria offered her ideas on public input, legislation, executive response (aka passing or vetoing legislation), and court protections. It's all impressed Cooper.

"What's wrong with Trustee?" Jackson spoke up. He pointed out that all 5 inmates had been Trustees.

"Trustees it is then," Daria said.

Cooper nodded his approval. It seemed a good step forward, even if it was just a word.

The next achievement was very unexpected: the appointment of the 13-year-old Connie Alcott to the Supreme Court. Cooper chuckled, but when Daria looked his way, he shrugged and mouthed why not?

He stepped over closer to Daria asking, "May I?"

Cooper took Daria's place of attention. "Okay, so we've talked about government. Let's take about the work that needs to be done. I don't have to tell you that there's a lot to be done."

He began listing some of the things that needed to be done. To the Trustees, Cooper said, "So much of this work you've already been doing. That won't change much."

To the civilians Cooper said, "I know less about you folks than I do the Trustees. And yet I know that you have skills and experience to offer our little community.

"But there's going to be more," he told them. The farm. The ranch. We're going to need new electrical power sources if the grid goes down. Stuff like that. Plus..."

Cooper paused, looking to Daria. They hadn't talked about his next topic yet. He knew he should probably stop now. Talk to her first. Yet he continued.

"There might be troubles ahead for us," Cooper pushed onward. "I've been in solitary the last two years, including the time during which this pandemic took hold. I only learned of how bad things were after Miss Howard let me watch and listen to the news yesterday.

"Most people are dead, and that's the bad news, obviously," he said. "The good news is that, like us, there are survivors out there. But the scary news is that some of those survivors, well, they're worse people than any of us ever were.

"They're looting," he said, pausing, "and killing to get what they want. They're going from house to house, business to business, taking what they want.

"Some of them might think that what we have in here might be worth trying to get through that fence out there," Cooper warned. "There's a reason that no one ever broke into West Georgia: guards on the towers, guarding the perimeter."

Cooper looked to Daria for an indication that she knew where he was going. He continued, "So, tomorrow, I'd like to begin training people in how to use weapons from the armory. Pistols, shotguns, rifles. The grenade launchers. Don't worry, they launch smoke and stun grenades. Nothing lethal. You'll learn about lethal and non-lethal weapons both."

Cooper paused to look Daria's direction again.

 

[TiredFingers]

(OOC -- All 7 inmates are listed here, fyi. There were originally only 6. We increased it for a great storyline we only just now came up with. Below, between the lines of asterisks, is a portion of text I added later to reflect this change.)

"Okay, so. Let's get started," Daria told the group. She handed out ink pens and questionnaires and explained what to do with them.

Cooper Thomas and the 5 Trustees remained behind by Cooper's request. He wanted to talk to them about issues that were applicable mostly to them.

"Why is she asking us this?" Kendall Lee asked. He tapped a fingertip to the paper on the table before him. "I quote, 'Have you ever been accused of, charged with, or convicted of a sex crime?'"

"Why the fuck do you think she's asking that?" Cooper asked harshly. "There are going to be women and children living in the cell blocks with us."

"But why only us?" Kendall challenged. "What about those three guys not in orange? How come she didn't ask them?"

"She did, you idiot," Samuel Pollack cut in. "She gave them the same paper she gave us. Pay closer attention."

"There's more," James Wright said, joining the conversation. She gave this same paper to the women, too."

They talked about it for a moment before Kendall asked with a tone of reluctance, "What if I don't want to answer."

"Don't answer," Cooper told him. "But keep something in mind. The Warden, Daria, has your records. She knows a lot of these answers already."

"Then why's she asking?" Jackson Green asked.

"I reckon 'cause she's testing your honesty and openness," Cooper said with a bit of wry humor. "Don't answer if you don't want to. See what happens."

Cooper looked over to Nigel Standish. The father whose 13-year-old daughter was now living in the prison with him had been studying the other men as they talked. Cooper walked over to him, leaned in close, and whispered, "If I ever thought that any one of these guys was going to be a threat to Connie, I'd throw them out. Trust me "

"Thanks," the father said. Then looking up into the eyes of the former detective-turned-convict, he asked with a smirk, "Does that include you, Coop?"

Cooper laughed, slapped the man on the back, and said, "Little girls are not my thing. But your wife now .."

He laughed as he stepped away, again listening to the questions and concerns of the men. Some of them were filling out their questionnaires.

**************************​

Cooper looked to the last man in the group, Victor "Vic" Long. The man had been acting sheepish around Cooper ever since they met for the first time yesterday. Cooper hadn't thought anything about it, though. You met all kinds at a cop. Cooper had been in protective custody since entering West Georgia Correction Facility. He obviously hadn't met inmates. If he had, he still wouldn't have found Vic's behavior strange.

If only he'd known the truth. (OOC -- coming soon.)

**************************​

Cooper interrupted the work on the questionnaires, saying to the inmates, "Follow me, boys."

He took them all to "C" section, activated a control at the Security Station that opened all of the cell doors, gestured, and said, "Pick one."

Some of the men didn't understand. Jackson, who already lived here in Cell C12 did. So did Nigel, who also lived here now but who would soon be living with his family in a "C-House".

"C" Section was for trustees and the odd inmate who deserved special treatment. Each cell was for a single occupant. The bed was not just larger but had a better mattress. There was a larger desk than any in the other Cell Blocks. The toilet was semiprivate, partially hidden behind a partial wall and had an actual toilet seat and lid. A small closet had drawers, and a 2-foot-by-2-foot window looked out on the Yard that would soon be the farm and garden.

 

[TiredFingers]

A bit before the above post for Twila and Daria:

Vic Long was the last to finish moving his possessions to C-Section. His stash of heroine had run out yesterday morning. And his connection had been one of the first to die of the virus. He feared that soon enough, he'd be wishing that the bug had killed him, too.

"You okay, Vic?" someone asked, causing Vic to flinch and spin in place. Cooper was standing in the doorway of Vic's new home. The former narcotics detective looked up and down the cell block for eavesdroppers. He looked back to Vic, asking quietly, "Are you sick, Vic? You know what I mean by sick, right?"

"I thought going to jail meant that I'd get clean," Vic said. "Turns out, it's easier to get smack in here than it was out there."

He looked to Cooper, hesitated, then added, "Particularly when your connection is a Screw."

Cooper was surprised that the man was being so open about his habit. "I take it the man's no longer available."

Vic shook his head. He scratched at the skin on his arms. He got super itchy when he was in need. He studied Cooper a moment before asking, "I don't suppose there's any way that you could, you know, maybe check around. I just need a little bit."

"Sure," Cooper said. Vic's face lit up with both surprise and relief. Then Cooper added, "On the condition that you start treatment."

Vic laughed, gestured about himself, and said, "Sure! I mean, this looks like a drug treatment facility, doesn't it?"

"One of the Warden's civies is a nurse," Cooper told Vic. "She can help you. And I can help you. Listen, Vic, you're part of this community now. You're one of us. We need you to be able to function and be productive. You can do that. If you're clean."

"You could just toss me out the gate," Vic pointed out. "Hell, out there I could probably find a fix easy 'nuff."

"You're not going out the gate," Cooper told him firmly. "If you want to leave, you can. But not until after you're clean."

"Really?" Vic asked shocked.

Cooper smiled. "Really."

The two men looked at each other before Vic finally said, "Okay. I'll do it. I'll try, anyway."

Cooper stepped forward and offered his hand. "We'll get you through this. I'll go talk to, oh, I've forgotten her name. I'll talk to Daria, and she'll talk to the Doc."

"Thanks," Vic said before Cooper turned and left the cell.

Vic stood there silent and still for a long moment, thinking. Cooper Thomas was going to help him get clean? Was going to help him become a functioning and productive part of a community?

And I was going to help them keep Coop in prison? he thought to himself. Was going to help them execute him?

 

[TiredFingers]

Cooper was nearing the open door of the Infirmary when he overheard Daria saying, "--and you are the closest thing to a doctor that we have now or are likely ever to have. We need you--"

He mistakenly thought that the pretty Latina caught sight of him, and rather than eavesdrop any more, knocked on the door. He asked politely, "May we?"

Daria waved the men inside as she told Nina, "And here's your first patient."

Vic snagged Cooper by the arm, whispering, "I dunno. Maybe--"

But Cooper cut him off, stressing in a low voice, "You let the Doc treat you, or you leave West Georgia."

They eyes each other a moment. Then Vic nodded, saying, "Okay "

Cooper saw the two women talking quietly and gave them time to finish. Then, stepping inside and urging Vic forward, he said, "Here's your first patient, Doc. Patient confidentiality and all, I'll be leaving now."

Vic had a look on his face like he was a puppy being abandoned in the side of the road. Cooper reassured him, "You'll be fine."

"Mister Thomas, if you please," Daria said as she passed by him for the door. "I have some other issues I'd like to speak to you about if you don't mind."

"Right behind you," he told her. He gave Vic one last reassuring look before he headed out

Behind him, Vic looked to Nina. He tried his best to smile. When she asked what he was there for, he looked to the floor, embarrassed. He'd always been ashamed by his uncontrollable addiction.

But he explained his situation. With great hope, Vic asked, "Can you help me become, how did he say it? A productive member of this community?"

 

[TiredFingers]

The Kitchen Storeroom

Jackson handed Cooper a clipboard. About the list, he said, "That, in my opinion, is what we can spare for the farm. The rest needs to be kept to feed us 'til we have a crop to harvest or find other food, ya'know, from scavenging. We are gonna scavenge, aren't we? Outside the fence?"

"Probably," Cooper answered her looked to Daria for her input, saying, "Likely."

Jackson explained, "Potatoes, sweet potatoes, dried beans, onions. They can ask be planted, some of'em right now. All the fresh vegetable roots, of course. Celery, green onions, lettuce, peppers.

"The Warden before Miss Howard switched us over to all organic," Jackson told them. "So all the seeds and such will grow. Course, some of them are still hybrid, not heirloom, so they might not all grow out looking like the stuff that came before. But it's all gonna be edible.

"Hell, we can grow dill, mustard, coriander, pepper, and more right out of the spice jars, believe it or not," he said chuckling. "Don't think we'll need to, but just wanted you to know.

Cooper handed the clipboard to Daria. "I trust Jackson's thoughts on this, Miss Howard. If we're going to do this, we need to get started in the next couple of days. We have a tractor and some other heavy equipment. But we need farm equipment.

"We should be able to find it locally," he continued. "But before I send people out there, I need people trained on weapons for security."

 

[TiredFingers]

The Kitchen Storeroom

"I could use help in the kitchen for cooking," Jackson said when Daria asked him what he needed. She'd been speaking about the farming part of the work. But right now, he was more concerned about cooking meals, snacks, and treats every day for 23 people. He'd cooked for hundreds of Cons previous to this, of course. But back then he'd had 2 civilian superiors and a permanent crew of Cons that sometimes numbered as many as a dozen.

"You get me one full timer and two helpers," Jackson to Daria, "And I'll get both the meals and the farming stuff done for you."

Happy with her answer, Jackson returned to his work while Daria and Cooper went on their way.

The Armory

"How are you going to keep us safe, Cooper?" Daria asked her Security Chief. "The protection of WG is on your shoulders. You have a free hand."

"I spoke with the guys and went through their records again," Cooper told her. He chuckled softly. "I also noticed how a couple of your women perked up when we talked about weapons training. I'd like to look through those questionnaires for Security, too."

They talked about what Cooper needed and wanted. He planned to set up a shooting range to train people with the firearms. Then, after some thought of who he wanted to participate, he'd begin training people in both defensive and offensive tactics.

"If ever someone does try to get inside the fence or even inside the walls," Cooper explained, "I don't want our Security people panicking or randomly shooting the place up, maybe even killing each other. I'd like them to understand how to work as a team to keep the bad guys out."

"I'm trusting you," Daria told Cooper with a meaningful expression and tone. "And I trust you, too. Those are actually two different things."

He offered out his hand, swearing, "You won't be sorry, Daria. I'll protect this place like it was my precinct. Or my own home."

They spoke some more and made plans before heading out again. Cooper took a Beretta 92FS 9mm with him this time around. It was going to be his go-to sidearm. It was the best made for that amount of money. He would take a 12-gauge Browning shotgun later, but today that was unnecessary.

He spent the rest of the day reviewing prison records and questionnaires. He also spoke to people about what they had to offer in the form of labor and other skills.

(OOC -- I was going to start listing "skills" and making profiles, but you said you had something more to do in the OOC first?)