Divine Justice

Hayes opened his briefcase and took out a single piece of paper. He held it up for Knox to see. It was the order signed by Hayes cutting off further discussion of John Carr receiving the Medal of Honor.

"When you called and told me that the 'country' folks around this filthy hole in the ground might rally around the persecuted Vietnam vet, I wondered what you might have meant by that. And how you found out about it. I went to the military archives. They were very helpful in showing me what you'd looked at. Unfortunately, the boxes weren't inventoried, but this page had left a bit of the print on the inside of the box wall. It was enough to have my people search your house. And they found this. I thought it had been destroyed a long time ago. Just goes to show that no one is truly omniscient."

He glanced over at Stone. "And I'm sure John here has told you all about our little disagreement in the jungle."

"I've told him nothing. He was working for you. You think I'd trust his ass?" Stone snapped.

Hayes sat back and rested his hands on his lap. "John, you're a much better killer than you are a liar. Prevarication is my bailiwick. And I could always sense it in others."

"You could never let it go, could you?"

"Why should I? You hurt me a long time ago. Where's the justice in that?"

"Justice?" bellowed Knox. "You kept him from getting the Medal of Honor!"

"And he kept me from the promotion that was rightfully mine."

"You're comparing what this guy did on the battlefield to making you wait a couple extra months to get your crappy pair of oak clusters?"

"He was a grunt. We had millions of them. But there weren't that many officers of my caliber. I'm certain he hurt the war effort by doing it."

"You really think we would've won the Vietnam War if you'd been made lieutenant colonel sooner?" Knox said in disbelief.

"I admit I have an ego."

"That's not an ego. That's freaking psychotic."

Hayes pulled out a lighter, clicked it against an edge of the old paper and in a few seconds it crumpled to ash.

"Now let me get this right." He pointed at Knox. "You're an armed robber and murderer. Nasty business. If I'd only known." He turned to Stone. "And you're Anthony Butcher. At least that idiot warden has a sense of humor if not style. Triple murderer. How perfect, though that tally hardly does you justice."

He rose and clicked his briefcase shut. "I believe that's all. I'll leave you two to serve out your debt to society. I've told the warden to be especially attentive to you both. I'm sure you appreciate the significance of that."

"Hayes!" Knox screamed as he strained against the shackles. "There is no way in hell you can pull this off. Not even you."

Hayes stopped at the door. "Well, the fact is, I just did. Oh, and one more detail. The guard who contacted Marsh on your behalf? I wouldn't wait around for his help again. You see, we traced the call to his home phone. I've shared that information with the good warden. I'm certain he'll follow up in an appropriate ma

He closed the door softly behind him.

CHAPTER 75

"THE HUMAN RIGHTS WATCH people and Amnesty International, among others, have been trying to get into Blue Spruce for years," Caleb said after he'd informed them of many particulars of how the prison was run. They were all back at Tyree's house, which they were now using as a base.

"The list of alleged human rights violations there is very lengthy," Caleb continued. "But the prison has refused all requests for visits by Amnesty and other organizations. God, even Russia has allowed those folks to visit its prisons. And when several inmates had stun guns used on them at Blue Spruce, lapsed into comas and died, additional requests were made to enter the prison, but they were denied."

Alex looked at Tyree. "I know he's your brother, but all that going on right next door and you never did anything about it?"

"That's another reason Howard and me aren't close. Who do you think turned Amnesty International on to the place?"

"You?" said Caleb.

"I went up there once on a prisoner transport. Poked around a bit when nobody was watching me. I guess my big brother thought I could be trusted. Stuff I saw, heard. Yeah, I called it in. Howard found out later. That was the official end of our brotherly love and I haven't been invited back to Blue Spruce since."

"Let's just call the place by its real name, okay?" said A

"With all that stuff how come the Justice Department or the Civil Rights Division hasn't opened an investigation then?" said Harry Fi

Caleb looked at his notes. "Apparently, the current state and federal administrations don't have the rights of prisoners as a priority. There was talk of a state inquiry but it went nowhere, and the Justice Department has nothing pending. And for the last two years the prison has been more or less shut down to all visitors."

"So Howard Tyree has his own personal little fiefdom and can do what he wants. Including selling drugs," growled Reuben. "And holding i

"Looks that way," said Caleb.

"What about the mineshaft?" asked A

"I did find some info on that," Caleb answered as he pulled out some pages he'd printed off at the library. "It was cut on a parallel course to the shaft the miners were trapped in. I read a couple newspaper articles about it and then compared it to records I was able to access about the prison construction. I can't be certain, mind you, because it's not like they publish the blueprints for supermax prisons online. But it seemed to me that that rescue shaft ran all the way up that ridge because that's where the miners were trapped. When the explosion happened it collapsed the tu

Reuben said, "But if you build a supermax on top of a mine and you know there's a shaft ru

"Plug it up, sure, but maybe in a way that allows you to unplug it," replied A

"Howard was involved in the construction pla

"But why would anybody do that?" asked Alex. "Prisoners could escape that way."

A

"But if some of the guards are involved why wouldn't they just leave from their houses?" asked Caleb.

"Howard Tyree sounds like a real control freak to me. He'd want every man right under his thumb."

"You're right about that," agreed Tyree.

"If these shipments come in routinely to the courthouse with some of the boxes diverted, where do you think those boxes are going?" asked Alex.

"To the prison," answered Tyree simply. "It's easy enough. Prisons get deliveries every day of food, supplies."

Alex added, "And the courthouse records filings are a great way to ship the drugs. DEA or ICE agents would just let it right on by."

"So they make the switch somewhere en route," reasoned A