Page 1 of Winds of War

CHAPTER 1

“C'mon, son, it's time for you to move into your new home.” Rob Mills, one of the guards, opened the cell's door, letting the blond, well-built, tattooed young man out. “No need for that, kid,” he softly spoke when the inmate extended his hands and spread his legs to be cuffed and chained.

“Hey, Keiran, you better get used to that position,” the occupant of the cell across from the blond's said with an evil grin. “I've heard Seamus McAtee is very well endowed, and once he rams the monster in his pants up that tight ass of yours...”

“Shut up, Romney. Leave the kid alone.” Rob's voice was calm, but the inmate sensed the coldness in it and retreated from the door, cursing between clenched teeth. “Come on, Keiran, let's go.”

The blond nodded and followed the guard. “Who's this Seamus guy?” The question came in a shaky, hesitant voice. “I’m perfectly capable of defending myself in case of an attack, but that would mean getting the guards' unwanted attention, and...”

“Seamus McAtee is your new cellmate, and he's a great guy. Don't believe everything that piece of shit Romney and others like him say. They only want to scare you.” The warmth in Rob's voice took Keiran by surprise, making him want to know more about the reason behind his transfer.

“I'm not stupid,” he started, giving the guard a hesitant look. “You are more than meets the eye, know the ins and outs around here, what's new, who's who, stuff like that. Why am I being transferred out of the blue and put in a cell with an actual human being, who, according to you, won't try to assault me every five minutes?”

Rob shrugged. “I'm sorry, kid. I wish I could help you,” he softly spoke. “Special Counsel Saint-Clair's direct orders. I can't reach that far on the ladder,” the guard grinned.

“Special Counsel... There’s something familiar about that name, but I can't remember... Wait!” Keiran's face suddenly brightened. “Isn't this the guy who was criticized in the newspapers about doing a piss-poor job with my case? The relatives of the two sleaze bags I sent to hell protested outside the DA's office, saying I deserved a harsher sentence.”

“Yes, that's him.” Rob nodded in approval, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Just like all of us guards, Mister Saint-Clair sees pedophiles as a stain that has to be wiped off, and respects those who do it.”

“Keeping me safe so far was also his idea? Sorry, I’m just trying to figure out some things. This whole transfer business has made me curious,” Kieran said as the two of them climbed down the steps that took them to the level below.

“Most likely,” Rob nodded, turning to the younger man. “I really wish I could tell you more, kid, but my older brother is kinda busy these days with this goddamn street war threatening to break any minute. He's the one who gives me the information,” the guard explained to a confused Kieran. “Here we are,” he pointed to a metallic door.

Using two sets of keys, Rob unlocked the door, then opened it widely, gesturing for the young blond man to step inside. Swallowing hard, the young man took a few tentative steps, then stopped, not daring to advance any further. The guard encouragingly patted his shoulder, then closed the door, locking it up.

From the doorway, Kieran looked around the spacious place, gasping in surprise at the sight it offered, the sparkling clean floor and freshly painted walls a stark contrast with the gloominess of his former cell. Even the air seems more breathable here, he thought, pleasantly impressed.

The classic bunk beds were replaced by two twin beds, one of them occupied by a well-built man in his early-to-mid-thirties with chestnut-brown hair, who was busy scrolling through the phone in his hand. The guy must be a hotshot, Kieran thought, knowing that the inmates weren't allowed to have phones, tablets, or other such devices.

A tender smile formed on the man's full lips, then spread across his face, brightening it. After typing on the phone for a couple of minutes, he put it aside and raised his head, examining Kieran with undisguised curiosity. However, there was also a discretion of sorts in the looks he gave to his new cellmate, and the young blond didn't feel uncomfortable.

“How long are you going to stay in the doorway? You can have a look around the room if you are sitting on the edge of the bed, you know.” His cellmate gave Kieran an amused smirk. “I'm Seamus, by the way.”

“I...thank you.” The blond hesitantly spoke, plopping down on the other bed. “What are the rules here? I mean...is there a bathroom schedule here? Do I need to call a guard when...you know...” Kieran lowered his head, blushing violently.

“Oh, sweet gods! The bathroom is over there, kid,” Seamus pointed to a door at the other end of the room. “You can also take a shower if you want.”

Kieran nodded and hurried in the direction Seamus indicated. Five minutes later, he came back into the room, a part of the tension in his body gone. “How...who did you bribe to get this cell? No offense, but a separate shower, access to a phone and, most likely, to an internet connection, not to mention the special living conditions...” He gestured around the room, then turned to the other man.

“Ian has his own way of doing things, I guess.” Seamus shrugged. “There's something special about the guy, some kind of aura that surrounds him. It's hard to explain. You'll see what I mean when you meet him. Until then, stick to the rules, keep a low profile, and mix with your own crowd.”

“My own crowd? Who would that be? On the upper floor, I was a loner, didn't belong to any of the tribes, but I guess things are different here.” Kieran paused, casting a worried look in his cellmate's direction. “Look, there's this thing I’ve wanted to ask you from the start. I...”

“Don't worry. I won't touch you,” Seamus cut him short in a surprisingly gentle voice. “I'm saving myself for my young, innocent fiancé. Now, to answer your question about who our crowd is: the Bratva guys, except for two of them; most of the Italians; some of the Chinese...you'll meet them at lunch.”

Kieran nodded, then after a few seconds of silence and encouraged by Seamus's friendly attitude, started to talk again. “This fiancé of yours...does he have a name? How old is he?”

“Nico. He is the sweetest, purest boy who ever walked on the face of the Earth. I was supposed to marry his dad, Fergus, but he found happiness elsewhere, and I let him go.” Seamus sighed, a dreamy expression taking over his features. “He's only nineteen, but I'll wait until he's ready, no matter how long it takes.”

“You seem damn sure you'll be out of here very soon, my friend.” Kieran shook his head, then gave his cellmate a melancholic look. “I wish you all the best in your new life with...Nico. I kissed my chance at love goodbye when I stepped inside the prison's yard, but I don't regret one second. I've done what I had to do.”

“Damn right you did, dude!” Seamus got in sitting position, his cobalt-blue eyes shining with admiration for his cellmate. “Most of the people would have walked away in spite of seeing the two bastards dragging that poor kid into their van, would have been deaf to his cries for help. We need more special people like you.” Seamus gave Kieran a small smile.

“We...who? Are you part of an organization or something?” The blond stopped for a brief moment, then continued in a whispered voice, laced with confusion. “I just came to peace with the idea of spending the next ten years of my life locked away in a prison cell and most likely ending up being gang-raped at least one time, and now you’ve turned everything upside down with your words about freedom and...” Kieran shook his head, burying it in his hands.

“It must be hard as hell for you.”—Seamus leaned forward, putting a hand on his cellmate's shoulder—“but once you get to The Base, things will get better. There is something special about that place. You'll feel you belong there minutes after you pass by the gates.”

“The Base...” Kieran frowned. “It's the first time you’ve mentioned this. What is it, a training facility of sorts? A military compound?”

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