"Sir, he's out!" says a police officer to his chief.
"Who?!" the chief asks the officer.
"Michael, his 30 years are over!" the police officer replies with a slight smile on his face.
"Not possible!" replies the chief.
"I'm afraid Officer Jacob is correct, Sir" another officer responds from a distance.
"Well then, what are we waiting for? Get him out of here!" orders the chief.
The two officers walk out of the office and into a small tight hallway. The hallway is painted black and leads to a jail door. Once the door opens, another hallway housing 51 inmates is revealed. Each inmate is kept in a cell on the left or right side of the hallway. However, there is one cell at the end of the hallway that faces towards the door. The cell is slightly bigger, however, it also has maximum security. There are two officers patrolling that one, single cell. The man assigned to that cell is a very dangerous man. Some call him "Ink" because of all his tattoos. Others call him "Pow" because he is very muscular. However, only the chief dares to call him by his real name, Michael Roosevelt.
The two officers walk down the noisy hallway and towards the cell in which Michael is held. They halt at the door and signal the patrolling officers, on either side of the door, who are wearing blue uniforms, to unlock the door. Once the door is unlocked, they see a man sitting on a bench wearing his orange uniform. He has handcuffs on his hands and legs. The two officers walk towards the man and guide him towards the exit. The three of them walk towards the exit. The hallway that seems to be noisy all year round is quiet for the first time in forever. No inmate dares to make a noise when Michael is present. The three men make it to the exit when one of the inmates calls out to Michael.
"Hey, Michael, why do you have a teardrop tattoo next to your eye? Do you miss your mommy?" the inmate says as he laughs.
The entire hallway fills with laughter. Michael turns around and walks back towards the inmate.
Michael replies. "I killed a man and I couldn't cry my own tears. Don't make me want to kill another one…". Michael turns back and walks towards the exit. At the exit, the two officers take off his handcuffs and pass him a bus token. Michael takes the bus token and leaves without saying a word.
Michael walks silently to the bus stop, one block down the street from the prison. The bus comes and Michael boards it. Michael pays his fare and takes a seat. He waits for the bus to reach the end of the street and gets off. He recognizes this intersection. This was the neighbourhood where he was raised. He can see the restaurant where his old apartment used to be. For sentimental reasons, he enters the restaurant.
Michael walks in without any money and sits down. The waiter comes towards Michael's table. Within 45 seconds, the waiter is able to recognize Michael.
"Michael, is that you!" exclaims the waiter.
"No way, my man Lincoln, what's good!" replies Michael.
"Nothing, nothing. So you're out of prison?" asks Lincoln.
"You bet I am! You owe me big time!" says Michael.
"You bet I do!" replies Lincoln. "Hey, you're my last customer so what do you say we go to my place and catch up?"
"Sounds good!" replies Michael.
Lincoln tells his boss that he will be leaving and goes and gets his car keys. Michael follows behind. Lincoln goes to the parking lot and opens the door to an old Honda Civic. Though, for Lincoln, it is an old car, for Michael, it is the most futuristic thing he has ever seen in his lifetime. He goes around the car and takes a seat.
"So where's your place?" asks Michael.
"Just three minutes away." replies Lincoln.
Lincoln starts the car and begins to drive back home. Three minutes later, they pull over to an old apartment building. Lincoln and Michael leave the car and enter the building. The two of them head straight towards the elevator. Michael does not even take a glance at the lobby. Lincoln presses the 6th floor and the elevator begins to move upwards. The elevator finally comes to a stop and the doors open. Lincoln and Michael enter the smelly hallway and walk all the way to the end. There is a green door. Lincoln grabs his keys and unlocks the rusty door knob.
They both enter a room. It is quite small. The walls are painted dark brown. intact, the entire room; there is only one dim light shining off to the right. Michael takes a seat on one of the four wooden chairs surrounding a clean white coffee table. On the table is a glass filled with orange juice next to what appears to be a modern smartphone. Even though Michael has not been around during the smartphone era, he is completely aware of what a smartphone is and looks like. However, the contraption on the coffee table appears to look like nothing he has ever seen before.
"Yo, what is this? I've seen smartphones and all, but I have never seen anything like this!" says Michael.
"You've seen my phone before?" asks Lincoln.
"Yea- wait… Your phone? As in you made it?" asks Michael.
"Yeah, I made it with my own two hands!" says Lincoln with a bit of pride.
"You know, we should sell this. This seems like something that everybody will want!" says Michael.
"Remember what happened the last time you sold something?" reminds Lincoln.
"Don't worry, this time its legal" replies Michael.
Before Lincoln can reply, there is a knock on the chipped wooden door.
Lincoln hesitantly walks towards the door. He slowly turns the door knob and opens the door just enough to be able to spy at who is on the other side of the door. He sees two men in black suits. They are both fairly tall and built men.
"Hello sir, may we come in?" asks one of the men.
"Um…. this might not be a good time…." replies Lincoln hesitantly.
"We have reason to believe that Michael is in the building. We are sorry but we must talk with him" replies the other man.
"He is… Oh my…Well, he isn't in my apartment, thats for sure" says Lincoln.
"Hey Lincoln, remember those two nerds from school… They always got in the way of our plans… Lincoln…?" says Michael.
The two men push the door open and walk into the room. They find Michael sitting on one of the four chairs. They sit down on two of the woden chairs.
"Michael… Do you know who I am?" asks one of the men.
"Remember those two nerds from school that always got in your way…?" answers the other.
Before Michael has the opportunity to reply, Lincoln comes behind the men and pulls out what appears to be a pistol.
"I repeat. Michael is not here! Get out!" exclaims Lincoln"
"But-" the man says
"Get out or I swear one of you guys aren't going to leave this room alive" threatened Lincoln.
The two men pick themselves up and run towards the door and leave the room, not looking back.
"Wow, I didn't know you still had that in you…" says Michael in fascination.
"We got to leave. Now." Lincoln says as he packs a couple things.
"Don't forget that handy dandy mobile contraption of yours!" reminds Michael.
"Why?" wonders Lincoln.
"I have an idea…" Michael says with a grin.
The two men run out the room and into the hallways. They run down the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. Once they make it to the lobby, they sit down to take a breath on one of the sofa.
"Why do we have to go?" asks Michael.
"I may have done something to get our territory back while you were behind bars." says Lincoln.
"Don't tell me you killed Trevor…" replies Michael with fear.
Lincoln did not reply. He did not even move a muscle.
"Lincoln! Lincoln! Damn… Where are you planning to go anyways?" asks Michael.
"We're moving… To Mexico…" says Lincoln. "Don't worry, I know a lot of dealers in Mexico, they can help make us some dough"
"No! I'm done with the underground criminal life. Let's do something legal! Lets sell that contraption that you have in your pockets!" says Michael.
"How?" asks Lincoln.
"The nerds?" suggests Michael.
"They worked under Trevor… Why did you think they were here today…." says Lincoln.
"So why didn't they kill you right there?" wonders Michael.
"They didn't want my life… They wanted something else" says Lincoln.
"Like?" asks Michael.
"The password to the safe" says Lincoln.
"They have the safe!?" exclaims Michael. "How?"
"Long story… anyways lets get out of here!" suggests Lincoln.
The two of them ran onto the sidewalk. Lincoln signals a cab and a yellow checkered sedan pulls over and the two men get in. They had no way of identifying the driver apart from his deep italian accent.
"Where to, boss?" asks the cab driver.
"The airport." replies Michael.