DARRAGH'S HYPOTHESIS (HYPOTHESIS 1)

The noise died down completely and without warning before Darragh could make it to the next paragraph in his read. Seeing how strange and funny it was for all inmates to go silent at once, he closed the book immediately only to catch sight of multiple shadows casted on the wall opposite him. He looked up to catch sight of multiple guards, 4 in number staring down at him with serious faces. No time for jokes? Darragh wondered.                                                                            

“On your feet, Schols!” the lead guard shouted; with a deep throated raspy voice.                          

“Hey…” Darragh got up immediately as if in protest, only to but back down as his cell bars opened. “What’s going on?” he asked afterwards as the 4 guards marched in at once.                

“We do the questioning here, convict!” one of the guards informed before dragging Darragh together with the aid of the other three, out of the cell.                                                                

Loud shouts rained immediately as other inmates from their cells yelled; either for the fun of it or for the joy it brought seeing Darragh as he was dragged from his cell.                                      

“Hey…hey…I didn’t do anything…” Darragh protested as they led him for questioning.               

The guards in their best defense of the rule of law forgot in their handling of Darragh the intrinsic element in the law that provided for prisoner rights.                                                                   

“Where are they?” the lead guard asked immediately as they flung Darragh to the other side of the interrogation room.                                                                                                                

“Where are who?” Darragh returned trying to regain balance while rubbing his lips.                      

Before he could stop the little blood that spewed from the side of his chin, another guard laid a straight punch on it, increasing the wound.                                                                              

“Oh…!” the lead guard exclaimed. “Is this how you wanna play this?” he mocked.                     

“Play what?!” Darragh rebuked, struggling to find balance once more. Again, another punch came at his throat.                                                                                                                        

“How did you help them break outta prison?” asked the guard who punched him.             

Confused, Darragh raised his eyes to look at the guard; Officer Goa. The guard wasn’t all that pleased with the look as he throwed another punch on Darragh, puncturing his lips.               

“Break…who…?” Darragh spat out only to pause for a minute. “Them…? Terrence…?” the picture dawned on him instantly. Terrence has escaped?                                                                      

“You remember now, don’t you?” Officer Goa mocked before releasing yet another punch at Darragh. The lead guard followed it with his.                                                                                

“Kraeger said he caught you sharing prison layouts with the inmates and details of a break out…” the lead guard informed, confusing Darragh the more as he rolled on the floor. Layouts? Terrence was the brainchild of the thing. He only got in the know few days ago. “You know what that means? Letting psychotic anti-social freaks on the loose?” the guard questioned, spitting on him. “Now, where are they headed?” he asked, pulling Darragh closer to him by his shirt. Then without warning, he rammed Darragh’s face to the wall.                                         

“Listen…listen…” Darragh begged.                                                                                                        

“Answer the question!” Officer Goa chided.                                                                                        

“Where are they headed?” the lead guard repeated, following it with double punches. Goa also followed with his but this time, with his foot against Darragh’s tummy and face.              

“I don’t know!” he sparked, face oozing out blood. “Am being set up okay…! I know nothing of the breakout” he protested.                                                                                                          

The guards pausing for a moment, puzzled on Darragh’s statement, then each shaking his head, went for a punch at Darragh.                                                                                                        

“3 inmates put you on the scene devising plans with Terrence” the lead guard informed. Terrence bastard! Darragh thought. his brain was as big as his size. “Now where is he headed?” the guard asked shaking Darragh roughly.                                                                                                          

“Look…look, I swear I-I…” Darragh stammered only to be met by another punch from Officer Goa. “Do you think I’ll still be here if I stole the blueprints and aided a jail break?” he sparked, coughing out saliva and blood. Prison guards most times aren’t employed based on intellect and social skills, he thought. “Don’t you see what’s in front of you? I’m being framed!”                      

Darragh’s words did nothing to help him as the four guards launched their attacks repeatedly.                                                                                                                                                      “Turns out I was wrong about you…” the lead guard said wrapping his fist with a towel to aid in his punch.                                                                                                                                          

A voice rose from behind that minute to caution against such decisions. “Enough!” it said, with the warden showing up with another man in suit. “Leave us…” the warden directed taking a seat and offering the other two seats; the one beside him to the man in suit and the one in front of him to Darragh.                               

The four guards begrudgingly walked out of the room.                                                                       

“Look, chief…I-I didn’t do anything, alright” Darragh complained. “I didn’t help in nothing”                                                                                                                                                          

“Quite the hardened criminal, aren’t you?” the man in suit spoke first, unwittingly revealing his profession to Darragh who looked on with scorn. The warden on the other hand gave the man in suit a disapproving look.                                                                                                           

“Is that what the world would have you believe? Or what your profession would?” Darragh chided.                                                                                                                                               

Ignoring the taunt, the man in suit went on to read from his book. “Ex Irish Navy and Intelligence operative…Expert military tactician and undercover agent…Captain decorated with 2 stars for following protocol and getting the Irish rebel group; Faux to surrender. Dead at 35, survived by wife, Niamh…killed in action by terrorists on a mission to retrieve plutonium core” the man finished, looking up at Darragh immediately. “You know the thing about Wikipedia, G****e…?” he asked. “Anybody can write shit on ‘em” the man informed, straightening his suit as Darragh stared at him. “Look at…they made you look like a hero and a man of valor when in reality you are nothing more than a criminal” he mocked, releasing a smirk on his face to annoy Darragh.

“Boss…is this the new guy taking over Officer Goa’s position?” Darragh returned the jab while looking at the warden. The warden said nothing.                                                                                 

“Now, here is the real story. Something G****e or Wikipedia will never tell you” the man in suit came at Darragh. “At Age 6, family home got engulfed in flames. Victim; child’s father and pet dog…at age 13, school gets burnt down; victims, countless children…at age 17, Ex-childhood heartthrob, Elizabeth Walker gets involved in fire accident with Schols on the scene; looses life. During time serving in the Irish military, Sergeant Schols’ unit gets caught up in mysterious fire outbreak that leaves so many casualties including a soldier burnt beyond recognition” the man read from his book once more, taunting Darragh. “…flash forward 2018, 6 months prior to this moment…Late Mr. Schols causes a fire outbreak that leads to countless innocents dying in a car plant” he finished.

“Is that how you chose to write my biography?” Darragh asked, rubbing his lower lip. His eyes flashed sternly at the man in suit while the man stared on with his.                                             

“Then how would you want your story told?” he returned.                                                                  

“How about the actual story…?”                                                                                                           

“That is the actual story” the man in suit insisted, raising his eyebrows.                                                “Really?” Darragh sat back before looking at the warden who nodded and then the man in suit. “That I killed people?” he asked. “These were accidents”                                                            

“Accidents…” the man in suit repeated then chuckled. “Ah…the question then becomes, why do people closest to you get prone to accidents? Or better still, why do people around you get to die by fire?” the man questioned.                                                                                                      

Releasing a grin on his face, Darragh looked at the man. “Hey, you can’t blame me for that” he said. “These days, God’s busy doing creepy things”                                                                        

“Where are the prisoners headed?” the warden interrupted.                                                    

“Honestly…I’ll tell you if I knew” Darragh answered, sincere but with a skeptic expression. “Chief, I swear if you let me outta here on 3 days furlough, I’ll help the Feds round them up. I owe Terrence revenge” he added.                                                                                       

The man in suit intruding as always; raised a photograph to Darragh’s view. “Does she look familiar?” he asked.                                                                                                                                       

Recognizing the image from a mile away, Darragh rolled his eyes; Ximena, he thought. “She’s older than my wife” he answered.                                                                                                      

Oh Christ! The man in suit thought. “Do you know her?” he rephrased.                                       

“Am I supposed to?” Darragh returned. The warden had to roll his eyes due to the banter.                             

The man in suit, pissed, decided to stay calm. He raised another photograph once more; this time of a man.                                                                                                                                ‘

How about him?” he asked.                                                                                                             

“Who is he…?” Darragh returned.                                                                                                   

“Answer the question, Darragh” the warden chimed in.                                                                 

Forced to give a response, Darragh turned his neck around for some time before returning to the man in suit. “Looks like a mafia boss in Vegas” he answered. “Why? Am I supposed to know him? Them?” Darragh came up asking his.                                                            

“We know you came to the United States seeking asylum under a falsified identity, Schols…you were a deserter in the army and there was only one way you could fake your death and stay under the radar for so long…” the man in suit moved to take a more formal and professional demeanor; free off sarcasm or the jabs. “If someone were to be harbouring you…”                   

“And that would be…who?” Darragh cut in. “The woman in the photograph or the man?”                             

“The Irish military…J2 still don’t know you are alive or even in prison. They still think you hero…consider what would happen if we told them about you being alive, the plutonium deal and…”                                                                                                                                                  

“What do you want?” Darragh stopped the man from going any further. He looked at the warden to see him admire the man in suit.                                                                                       

“Tell me about the asshole that harbored you for 6 years” the man in suit commanded. Now, he was starting to sound like his commanding officer from back in the days, Darragh thought.                                                                                                                                                 

“He’s dead” he replied at once.                                                                                                          

“No he’s not” the man in suit countered. “Ron Druman isn’t. He would be when I say he is” the man informed.                                                                                                                                           

Confusion forming on Darragh’s face, he looked at the man in suit and the warden. “Who is Ron Druman?” he asked, startling the man in suit albeit drawing his interest. “I’m talking of Silas Shepherd. He kept me under the radar but is the reason I’m in prison” Darragh revealed. “You can call him a gangster…that’s what he was. Helps people only to ask them to commit felonies for him. He frames them…after owing some Asian rogue a lot of money, this dude came outta nowhere offering to help clear the debt and keep me off the hook for as long as I wanted if I did a few jobs for him”                                                                                                        

“Does this Silas guy happen to look like this?” the man in suit interrupted, raising the previous photograph again. Darragh looked at it and removed his eyes.                                                     

“No…the Silas am talking about was black and young. And he got killed in Detroit. Some say it was an assassination but I think it was someone looking to pass grief” Darragh informed.                                                                                                                                                      

The man in suit staring at Darragh, hopefully in doubt, turned to the warden before arranging his things. “Am done here” he said afterwards leaving. Darragh was left to stare at the man and the warden.