-=O=-***-=O=-

She fueled herself with coffee, took her life in her hands and bought what was reputed to be a cherry danish from vending on the Interview level. It tasted more like cherry-flavored glue over sawdust, but it was something in her stomach. She strolled into Interview, carrying an oversized mug of her own -- or Roarke's own -- coffee because she knew the smell of it could make a grown man beg. She settled down, all smiles, while Peabody took up her post by the door and glowered. She set the recorder, read in the current data.

"Morning, Lewis. Beautiful day out there."

"I heard it's raining."

"Hey, don't you know the rain's good for the flowers? So how'd you sleep?"

"I slept just fine."

She smiled again, sipped from her mug. He had circles layering the circles under his eyes. She doubted he'd gotten much more sleep than she had. "Well, as we were saying when last we met -- "

"I don't have to say dick to you without my lawyer."

"Did I ask you to say dick? Peabody, replay the record and verify that I at no time requested that the subject say dick."

"That shit don't work on me. I got nothing to say. I'm sticking with silence. It's one of my civil rights."

"You hold onto those civil rights, Lewis, while you can. They don't count for a whole hell of a lot on Penal Station Omega. That's where I'm sending you. I'm going to make it my mission in life to put you in one of their smaller concrete cages. So you stick with that silence, and I'll do the talking. Conspiracy to kidnap a police officer."

"You can't prove that. We never touched you."

"Four armed men in two vehicles, pursuing poor little me, at high rates of speed, over the state line. You shouldn't have gone over the state line, ace. I can make that federal, and my guess is the FBI would just love a shot at you. With your record, the concealeds are enough to shoot you on the next transit to Omega. Add the illegals."

"I don't use no drugs."

"They were in the vehicle you were driving. That was another mistake. You know, if you'd been a passenger, you might have had a better chance to cut back on that hard time. But being the driver, the driver with concealeds, with illegals, that makes you my favorite patsy. Ricker's not even going to wave bye-bye when you're strapped in the prison transport."

"I got nothing to say."

"Yeah, I heard that." But he was starting to sweat. "I bet the lawyer's made you promises. I bet I can list them right off for you. You'll do some time, but you'll be compensated. They'll work the politics and get you into a nice, cushy facility. Five years, seven tops. And you walk out a rich man. I bet that's real close."

She could see by the worry in Lewis's eyes that it was more than close. It was bull's-eye. "Of course, he's a lying sack of shit, and I think you're smart enough to have figured that out during the night. Once you're in, you're in, and if you're unhappy with the arrangement and make noises, one of your upstanding fellow inmates is going to get a message. Poison sprinkled in your rehydrated mashed potatoes. A shiv in the kidneys during your single hour a day in the yard. An accident in the showers where you slip on the soap and break your neck. You won't know where it's coming from until you're dead."

"I talk to you, I'm dead before I get there."

That was it, she thought, leaning forward. The first crack. "Witness protection."

"Fuck that. He can find anybody anywhere."

"He's not a magician, Lewis. I'm offering you a nice ride, Lewis. You give me what I need, I can get you immunity, a free walk, a new life anywhere you want to go, on or off planet."

"Why should I trust you?"

"Because I've got no reason to want you dead. That's a big one, isn't it?"

Lewis said nothing, but he licked his lips.

"I got the impression Ricker's not real stable. He strike you as real stable, Lewis?" She waited a moment while he thought about it. "Ricker's going to tell himself you screwed up. Doesn't matter, won't matter that he sent you out after me. That he was stupid. He's going to blame you for missing me and for getting caught. You know it. You know that, and you know he's just a little crazy."

He'd stewed about it all night, tossing, turning as best he could on the narrow bunk in the dark cell. He'd come around to that himself, and he didn't like the fish-eye look of Canarde. Ricker wasn't known for forgiving what he considered employee mistakes.

"I don't do any time."

"That's what we're going to work on."

"Work on? Screw that. You get me immunity. I don't say squat until I see the PA and the paperwork. Immunity, Dallas, a new name, a new face, and a hundred fifty thousand in seed money."

"Maybe you'd like me to arrange a pretty wife and a couple of rosy-cheeked children while I'm at it."

"Hah. Funny." He was feeling better now, better than he had in hours. "You get me the PA, get me the deal. Then I'll talk to you."

"I'll start on it." She got to her feet. "You might have to go through the hearing. Keep cool about it, and try out that silence as a civil right. You let Canarde get a whiff of this, he'll go straight to Ricker."

"I know how it works. Get me the deal."