I approached one of the prison guards, trying to look as confident and convincing as possible. "Hey, I need to speak with Detective James on the phone," I said, trying to sound casual.
The guard looked at me skeptically, clearly not sure if he should believe me. "What's this about?" he asked gruffly.
I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just a little favor I need to ask him. It's important."
The guard hesitated for a moment, clearly unsure of what to do. Then, seeming to decide that it couldn't hurt to check, he nodded and followed me to the phone.
I dialed the detective's number, my heart pounding in my chest. When he answered, I tried to sound calm and collected. "Detective James, it's me. I need a favor."
"What kind of favor?" he asked, his voice cautious.
I took a deep breath, trying to explain my plan without sounding too crazy. "It's about Jenkins. I'm not really helping him escape, like I said. I'm actually trying to transfer him to another prison. And I need your help to make it happen."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment I wondered if the detective was going to hang up on me. But then he spoke, his voice thoughtful. "I see. And why should I help you with this?"
I took another deep breath, trying to convince him. "Because if you help me, you'll be keeping me out of trouble. And you'll be making sure that Jenkins doesn't actually escape, which I know is what you're really worried about."
The detective was silent for a moment, clearly weighing his options. Then, seeming to come to a decision, he spoke. "Okay, I'll help you. But you owe me, got it?"
I nodded, relieved. "Got it. Thanks, Detective."
The guard was watching me closely, clearly curious about what was going on. But I just smiled and hung up the phone, trying to look as innocent as possible.
"Thanks for your help," I said to the guard, trying to sound sincere. "I really appreciate it."
The guard nodded, seeming to buy my act. "No problem," he said. "Just be careful, okay?"
I nodded, trying to look grateful. But inside, I was thinking: "You have no idea what's really going on, do you? You think I'm just a harmless prisoner, but really I'm the one pulling the strings."
I made my way back to where Jenkins was hiding, my heart racing with excitement. His wingmen were already spreading the news of his "death", telling everyone that he had succumbed to food poisoning. The prison was in chaos, with the Warden demanding to know who was responsible for the alleged poisoning.
Jenkins' wingmen were quick to point fingers, naming several prisoners who had helped prepare and serve the food. But when it came to me, they hesitated. "Leave him alone," one of them said. "He's harmless. He didn't have anything to do with it."
The guards seemed to accept this, and I was spared from the investigation. But many others weren't so lucky. They were hauled off to be questioned, some of them beaten and intimidated into confessing.
Meanwhile, Jenkins was waiting anxiously in his hiding place. He thought he was getting away with the perfect escape, faking his own death to avoid detection. But I knew the truth. With the help of Detective James, I was going to make sure he was transferred to another prison, not set free.
As the chaos died down, I made my way to Jenkins' hiding place. "It's time," I whispered. "We need to get you out of here."
Jenkins nodded, his eyes shining with excitement. He thought he was finally getting his freedom. But I knew the truth. I was just using him to get what I wanted.
Together, we made our way through the prison, avoiding guards and dodging detection. Finally, we reached the outer fence, where Detective James was waiting for us.
"Time to go," he said, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
Jenkins thought he was finally escaping, but I knew the truth. He was just being transferred to another prison, where he would face even more danger and uncertainty. And I was the one who had made it all possible.
The next day, I was approached by the men who had sent me on the mission to eliminate Jenkins. They looked at me with a mixture of satisfaction and respect, nodding their heads in approval.
"The Boss is happy with you," one of them said, their voice low and gravelly. "You carried out the job exactly as instructed. Jenkins is no longer a problem."
I nodded, trying to keep my expression neutral. I knew that Jenkins was actually very much alive, and that he had been transferred to another prison. But I couldn't reveal that to these men. They believed that Jenkins had been eliminated, and I needed to keep it that way.
"Yes, I took care of it," I said, trying to sound confident. "Jenkins won't be causing any more trouble."
The men nodded, seeming to accept my words at face value. "Good work," one of them said. "You've earned your pay."
I nodded again, trying to hide my true feelings. I knew that I had just played a dangerous game, and that I had gotten away with it. But I also knew that I couldn't trust these men, or the Boss. They would stop at nothing to get what they wanted, and I was just a pawn in their game.
Meanwhile, Jenkins' wingmen were celebrating his supposed escape. They believed that he had successfully faked his own death and was now free. But I knew the truth. Jenkins was sitting in a cell in another prison, unaware of the fact that he had been played.
And I was the one who had made it all happen. I had played both sides against each other, using Jenkins as a pawn in my own game. It was a dangerous move, but it had paid off. For now, at least.