NBA Dramatique: Surprises

The old General hated to lose. He had come to expect it, as his last reasonable claim to success had been a few years back. It still wasn't pleasant. To make matters worse, he had been around for so long and been involved with so many factions that going to war was becoming a tour of former failures. When King James beat the General's current army, the would-be-ruler was happy to flaunt his power in the face of the old man. The Factory workers that he had once managed and led into the streets to fight had shown up on his doorstep, and though they were fond of the General, they still did their business with heartless efficiency, as their new boss had directed. A couple of days later a bunch of vandals with personal jet-packs had spray-painted the number 7 all over his base, then capably beat his soldiers. Those fliers had been mostly guys he recognized as a street gang from 7th Avenue. He had tried to make that gang a respectable army once but they had serious problems respecting his authority, and they ran him out of town. He wasn't confident that his soldiers had the stuff to win this war. He wasn't sure that they had the stuff to even win many battles. He was only sure that he hated to lose, and that he would try to teach these men to hate it as much as he did so they would stop doing it.

*****

There was a lot of unrest among the Prisoners. Something had been taken from them, and they felt cheated. The Answer was gone - had simply disappeared in the middle of the night with no explanation or even acknowledgment provided. The Prisoners feared that word of their brewing escape plan had leaked and that the Answer was made to pay. There was a sense of distrust spreading among the whole gang. After all, it seemed that someone had broken the golden rule of being on the inside: No Snitchin'.

It would have surprised nearly all of the Prisoners, though, to know what was taking place during the moments just after the Answer had been smuggled out of his cell and away from the mountains. Guards had come in the darkness to the former Goldilocks just as they had to the cell of the Answer. In this case however, the star inmate was not asleep, not surprised by the visit. He was waiting, seated on his bed when the guards arrived. His cell door opened and he stepped out, then walked with the two men along the corridor, all of them being careful to be as silent as possible. They passed through the holding area and into the main yard. From the yard they entered the laundry. Through the far end of the laundry they entered the kitchen galley, went to the opposite end of the kitchen, and encountered three more guards at the receiving area. The guards there unlocked the bay doors to reveal the back of a refrigerated truck, open, with frosty condensation covering the curtain-like rubber flaps of the trailer. The guards motioned toward the truck, and the inmate stepped through the rubber flaps, unaccompanied, into the refrigerated trailer.

Warden Karl stood inside wearing a fur-collared coat. A bald man with a newly issued inmate's uniform stood behind him.

"It's done" said the Warden. "Let's talk business."

*****

HORNETS had swarmed his headquarters. The General knew their reputation for being well-prepared, aggressive, dangerous combatants and as soon as he saw them, he expected to be beaten. They moved in formations. They attacked in combinations. They showed confidence and no mercy.

He didn't give a damn. He was the General.

Even with a squad that he knew to be behind the curve, the General was not one to concede any contest. He was here to lead these men, and was going to do so. If he had to lead them to an embarrassing beat-down then he certainly would, and had already. He knew that learning could come from mistakes. His men had made enough mistakes that they should be very well-learned by now.

He instructed them to fight, and fight they did.

*****

"I guess this ain't nothin' new to you, so welcome back. You can call me Mellow." The newly self-christened Prisoner shook hands with the bald one.

"It feels great to be home. I'm Chauncey."

Warden Karl still stood with the two men in the refrigerated truck. " I don't think I have to tell you both to keep this meeting in strictest confidence. Our alliance will have tremendous benefits, but if it becomes public knowledge we could all suffer. I'm not going to have anyone - inside or outside of this facility - tell me how to run my Prison. Get the inmates behind you and we can avoid outside interference."

"We'll do it. Just remember your end of the bargain" said Mellow.

Warden Karl did not reply as he walked out of the trailer. As soon as he was gone, the guards entered and directed the inmates back to their cells.

*****

His men were surprisingly holding their own. The General commanded the troops to hit the HORNETS as hard and as often as possible. He capitalized on his enemy's mistakes and kept HORNETS off-guard by employing unorthodox attack formations against them. Two young guys that went by the names of D.J. and Ammo teamed-up to fire long-range assaults and drive within their defenses. Felton and Richardson brought the heavy artillery and blanketed the field of battle with their fire. HORNETS sharpshooters continued to strike and also refused to fall without a struggle, but crucial attacks faltered. The General never let up, and when the smoke cleared, his army stood as the victor.

His men celebrated, and he allowed them a few moments of joy. Truth be told, he was happy too. But he knew that little had been accomplished. It was still the time to be a teacher.

"Enough smiling" he yelled to the group. "We've got one hell of a mess to clean up around here, and when I say "we" I don't mean myself. Be in ranks at 0500. You're happy to win. Anybody would be. But you don't hate losing yet. Until you do, you've got nothing to celebrate."

The General began walking back to his quarters, thinking of the beer and cigar that he would enjoy behind his locked door.

*****

When the Deputies galloped up the mountain path on their way to "restore order", Warden Karl was watching from one of the high guard-towers. He thought about the work he had tried to do as the Warden of this Prison, and how the corrections company that owned it had continuously managed the facility in a way that limited his reach. He watched the horses carry their star-breasted riders up the path and heard echoes of their hooves reverberating through the canyons. He imagined that somewhere those Deputies had a sheriff that was probably in a position much like his own, in that he might be the little boss, but definitely wasn't the big one. He thought about the hopes of that sheriff and wondered if he ever dreamed of becoming a warden, as Karl had once dreamed of being a sheriff. He wondered if that sheriff was ever tempted to violate his station in the most extreme way and use his authority for his own benefit, crossing over to the other side of the law. Warden Karl sure had. He was thinking of that very thing as he dreamily watched the Deputies get closer and closer, close enough finally to see the glint of sunlight reflecting off of those starry badges. He lifted a two-way radio to his mouth and hit the button.

"Open the cells."

Karl had kept his initial part of the bargain. He lured these men of law into a brutal trap, and watched from above as the Prisoners took out their frustrations and exercised their new unity upon a group of men that only wanted to do what they thought was right.

He was only mildly surprised to find himself enjoying it.

*****