Title: The Recruiter
Spoilers: This conversation falls somewhere between
the sheared toes and slit throat.
Disclaimer: Prison Break doesn't belong to me but it
is a lot of fun to take the characters out for a spin.
" What the hell are you looking at?"
He plays it so cool, strolling right up and leaning against the fence like he
was born to this life when one good look tells you he wasn't.
He's standing there staring at me and I can't help being impressed that the little
son of a bitch not only has the balls to ask, but actually expects an answer.
He should be watching his ass, making damn sure I don't turn those feet of his into
a matching set. He should be fearing me, but, either he doesn't, or, if he does,
he does one hell of a job hiding it
"I'm gonna repeat myself, what are you looking at?"
I'd like to say 'nothing' and be done with it, but the kids got me
on this one. He's right, I've got my eye on him ... have had for a good long time.
"I think you know I was looking at you."
I can't help challenging him just to see what he'll do.
"You got a problem with that?"
I can't even begin to count the number of hardened, tough as nails men that have
tried to meet the look I'm giving him, only to look away. This kid doesn't even blink
when he looks me in the eye and says, "Guess that all depends on what it is
about me you're so interested in."
Impressed with the nerve but not quite getting the meaning, I follow
his gaze to T-Bag and his anal allegiance perched on benches across the
yard watching both of us with obvious interest.
" I ain't 'looking' at you that way, kid, if that's what you're thinking. Trust me,
You ain't my type. I like them with big breasts, full hips..."
He stops me with a knowing nod. " Ah! You mean fat chicks."
I can't help laughing, amused by the boy and equally entertained
by the confused, am I laughing at his sorry ass, look on T-Bag's face.
"Curves! Something a man can hold on to, a woman, not a girl Scofield.
Until you give it a try you got no idea what your missing. Either way, its
something you ain't got so, no, I ain't no ass man if you catch my drift."
" Okay then..."
Timing! Fucking timing.
Its crucial and he's got it like no one I've ever seen.
At that moment someone walks by, a little too close, and he stops,
switching gears in a heartbeat, babbling about some PI bullshit no one gives
a damn about until, once they've moved a reasonable distance away,
he comes back without missing a beat.
" If you're no ass man, what are you then?"
I look at him for second, watching, paying careful attention, and becoming
more convinced of what I'm about to say than I was when we began the discussion.
"Lets just say I'm a recruiter. Like the scouts for the God damn NBA, a man
like me is always on the look out for talent."
He's quiet for minute, deciding if and how he should respond.
"You trying to recruit me into a life of organized crime, Abruzzi?"
He's looking at me like I'm nuts, as if he's gonna laugh it off, but I know
better the instant he shoves those hands in his pockets.
This kid would have a nickname and rep before he even joined the family.
I can see it now they'd call him pockets and everyone would know the instant
he slipped his hands in those pockets of his that he was thinking, wheels were
turning, and old 'pockets' was on the verge of a plan.
"Maybe I am. You can't hinge your entire life on your brother cuz he sure as
hell ain't gonna hinge his whole life on you. A bright young man like you
deserves something of his own, if you ask me."
Tired of dancing around the fucking point, I figure its best to lay it on the
line while I have his full attention. "As soon as you get me out of this shit
hole I'll be resuming my 'career'. You might do well to consider joining me."
"You think you're gonna escape and go right back to what you
were doing with no one on your tail?"
He thinks he's smarter than me, that I don't see what's what, and while that
would usually piss me off, its something I like about him. "You don't know a thing.
I'll disappear..." I hesitate for effect because in reality, I know the kid is
smarter and I'm gonna savor knowing more than he does this one time.
" ... then I resurface somewhere else. New city. New name..."
A quick study, able to read the writing on the wall, he cuts me off before
I have the chance to finish. " Same old career?"
He looks down stabbing at the gravel with his foot, the good one, another
hallmark of his thought process prompting me to sweeten the deal.
"Men like me live a good life. You'll have women, a home, family, power,
plenty of money. You ain't no engineer any more kid. You need to think
of what future, what options, you got when this is over."
He looks me dead in the eye and I can't, for the life of me, begin to figure
out just what's running through that head of his.
" I'm no killer, John. "
I know its possible he's playing with me, but since maybe, just maybe, he's
actually giving the notion some serious though, I lay it all out. " I'm not looking
for a trigger man." I reach over, squeezing his upper arm, testing his trust and
nerve with the added bonus of irritating the hell out of T Bag who's forced to
watch me touch what he's just dying to get his hands on. " And God knows
you ain't muscle. But both of those are easy to get in my line of work.
What you got, brains, is one hell of a lot harder to come by and I think we
could put that sharp mind of yours to good, lucrative, use."
He laughs softy, seeming to brush off the idea, but I can tell there's
something there and with a little work the kid can be had.
" Food for thought, John."
I offer a parting shot paired with an elbow to the ribs before turning to
walk away. " It should be. Wouldn't you rather live a comfortable life, secure,
with the law fearing you rather than hunting you down?"
Author's Chapter Notes:
I was challenged to write something other than MS so here you have The Recruiter followed by Because