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Title : Within These Walls, Chapter 7 of 30
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Ryan, Lester, Leek
Disclaimer : Not mine (except the OCs), no money made, don’t sue.
Word Count : 59,000 words in 30 chapters of approx. 1,500 – 2,500 words each
Spoilers : None
Summary : Ending up in Dartmoor prison for refusing to recant their belief in evolution is only the start of the problems facing Nick, Stephen and Connor. And Sir James Lester soon ends up with other problems on his hands than just an over-crowded prison population.
A/N : For acknowledgments etc see Part 1.
Ryan knew Lester was tense. The man hadn’t stopped pacing up and down since Ryan had entered the room. Ryan guessed the governor had already had his superiors in the Prison Service crawling all over him for news of what the hell had happened out on the moor. To top it all, the press were still camped outside the main gates, even though it was now the early hours of the morning.
Ryan had only arrived back at the prison five minutes ago, soaking wet and freezing cold, but he’d known better to stop off in the barracks wing for a change of clothes. When Lester wanted a report, he wanted it immediately. The foul conditions out on the moor would not have been accepted as a valid excuse for delay, even though the sleet had continued for most of the night, turning the majority of the crime scene into an even worse quagmire than usual. His fellow captain, Joel Stringer, had remained at the scene to act as liaison with the police.
Stringer’s upper class accent always came into its own in such circumstances and Ryan, as ranking military officer in the prison, had no qualms about making use of it. Stringer was also good with the press, effortlessly directing them to the increasingly harassed Jenny Lewis. The Public Relations Officer had spent the night camped out in the Gatehouse, fielding ever more hysterical queries about why the Beast of Bodmin had chosen to show up on Dartmoor.
“News?”
Ryan nodded. “The police found evidence of large animal tracks on the moor and they eventually followed up Owen’s suggestion of calling in an animal expert.” The captain allowed himself a grin. “I think they were a bit surprised by who turned up.”
Lester stopped for a moment and raised his eyebrows.
“He turned out to be a she. A little blonde girl who looked like a school kid. It turns out they called Wellington Zoo and she was the duty keeper.”
Ryan had been surprised by the obvious sexism shown by the local police when the girl had turned up, swamped by a set of bright yellow waterproofs. To everyone’s surprise, she hadn’t thrown up at the sight of the bodies. They’d been sceptical when she had confirmed it as an animal kill and their obvious dismissal of her views had shown. Right up until the moment that their crime scene investigators had started talking about the animal hairs they’d got off the severed arm, still lying out on the bog.
At that point, the members of the local constabulary had started taking Miss Abigail Maitland somewhat more seriously.
“Have we any reason to believe it was a breakout?”
Ryan met Lester’s eyes and shook his head. “If it was, it’s the weirdest one I’ve ever seen.”
“Captain, we have twp prisoners missing, frankly, I’ll believe it was an escape attempt until someone proves me wrong.”
“Neither of the men was assessed as an escape risk.”
“The assessments are not infallible, Ryan. The fact remains they’re missing, presumed absconded. The immediate question we need to address is do we keep this place in lockdown tomorrow?” He glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. “Make that today.”
“We’ve enough tension with the overcrowding, sir. Lockdown will only make matters worse. There’s nothing to connect anyone on the inside with what happened out on the moor.”
“Mr Leek recommends full lockdown for another 12 hours.”
It was Ryan’s turn to sigh. “Sir, with respect, Mr Leek recommends full lockdown if a toilet gets blocked or a prisoner farts too loudly. The men are doubled up in their cells and they’ve had sod all exercise or free association since the riots. In my view, it’s asking for trouble to keep them in lockdown.”
Lester stopped pacing and turned to face Ryan, his expression bleak. It was the face of a man who’d gone a full night without sleep. And he wasn’t the only one. “I’ll take your advice on this occasion, Captain. Besides, if the prisoners do know anything, this will be a good opportunity to tap into the rumour mill. You’ll be briefing your men and the guards on exactly what has happened, I presume?”
Ryan nodded. He was knackered, as well as soaking wet, but he knew perfectly well that in common with Lester and several other members of staff, he’d end up doing yet another double shift.
A knock on the door sounded loud in the silence that had fallen, and before the word ‘enter’ was entirely out of the governor’s mouth, the door opened to admit Oliver Leek, the man who held the position of Deputy Governor. He was a young man who had risen very quickly in the Prison Service, after joining the Civil Service on the fast-tracked graduate entry programme, and Ryan didn’t trust him one iota. Leek’s views on crime and punishment made Lester’s look positively liberal.
Ryan was not enjoying his latest posting, although he was careful to keep his opinion to himself, and men like Leek only confirmed him in his view that there was a great deal wrong with the prison system. Locking up men like battery hens was a recipe for disaster. Overcrowding had been a major reason behind the recent trouble at Albany, and the fallout from that was only exacerbating an already tense situation in Dartmoor.
He watched Leek’s pale eyes settle on him without liking. The feeling was mutual, but the soldier was careful not to allow his own dislike to show.
“Get some dry clothes on, Ryan,” said Lester, dismissing him with a nod. “Oliver, does Ms Lewis have a press release ready?”
Leek smiled unctuously and was handing over a piece of paper as Ryan left the room. The man wouldn’t be pleased about the decision to discontinue the lockdown, the soldier was sure of that.
The shower block in the barracks wing was deserted and for once, the water was hot enough to sting. Ryan grabbed a bar of soap and used that on his hair instead of going on a hunt for shampoo. Steam rose around him and the heat started to drive the cold out of his body, although his feet still felt like blocks of ice.
Ryan rubbed the soap into his armpits, washing away the sweat of a long day then dropped his hands to run them over his cock and balls. As he touched himself, a sudden memory of a tall, slim body intruded into his thoughts. An unruly shock of dark hair had only served to make the man look like he’d just climbed out of a bed rather than the back of a prison van. Ryan’s cock twitched in his hand. The blue-eyed prisoner was too bloody good-looking for his own good, even though Ditzy had managed to make a joke of it. Looks like that wouldn’t make the guy’s life easy in any prison, but in this one, with the dregs of Albany in the mix, they would be a curse. There were even several guards who Ryan wouldn’t trust not to pass up any opportunity that might present itself.
His cock was fully hard now and Ryan quickened the movements of his hand. It was rare to get a private moment in prison, even for the men who carried the keys, and he couldn’t remember off-hand when he’d last had the opportunity for a quiet wank. He certainly wasn’t going to pass this one up, although he did keep a wary eye on the door.
The sensations started to heighten and Ryan had no intention of holding his climax back. One last hard stroke and he came, thrusting up into his hand as he tried – without success – to force the sight of a pair of vivid, challenging blue eyes out of his mind.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Ryan, Lester, Leek
Disclaimer : Not mine (except the OCs), no money made, don’t sue.
Word Count : 59,000 words in 30 chapters of approx. 1,500 – 2,500 words each
Spoilers : None
Summary : Ending up in Dartmoor prison for refusing to recant their belief in evolution is only the start of the problems facing Nick, Stephen and Connor. And Sir James Lester soon ends up with other problems on his hands than just an over-crowded prison population.
A/N : For acknowledgments etc see Part 1.
Ryan knew Lester was tense. The man hadn’t stopped pacing up and down since Ryan had entered the room. Ryan guessed the governor had already had his superiors in the Prison Service crawling all over him for news of what the hell had happened out on the moor. To top it all, the press were still camped outside the main gates, even though it was now the early hours of the morning.
Ryan had only arrived back at the prison five minutes ago, soaking wet and freezing cold, but he’d known better to stop off in the barracks wing for a change of clothes. When Lester wanted a report, he wanted it immediately. The foul conditions out on the moor would not have been accepted as a valid excuse for delay, even though the sleet had continued for most of the night, turning the majority of the crime scene into an even worse quagmire than usual. His fellow captain, Joel Stringer, had remained at the scene to act as liaison with the police.
Stringer’s upper class accent always came into its own in such circumstances and Ryan, as ranking military officer in the prison, had no qualms about making use of it. Stringer was also good with the press, effortlessly directing them to the increasingly harassed Jenny Lewis. The Public Relations Officer had spent the night camped out in the Gatehouse, fielding ever more hysterical queries about why the Beast of Bodmin had chosen to show up on Dartmoor.
“News?”
Ryan nodded. “The police found evidence of large animal tracks on the moor and they eventually followed up Owen’s suggestion of calling in an animal expert.” The captain allowed himself a grin. “I think they were a bit surprised by who turned up.”
Lester stopped for a moment and raised his eyebrows.
“He turned out to be a she. A little blonde girl who looked like a school kid. It turns out they called Wellington Zoo and she was the duty keeper.”
Ryan had been surprised by the obvious sexism shown by the local police when the girl had turned up, swamped by a set of bright yellow waterproofs. To everyone’s surprise, she hadn’t thrown up at the sight of the bodies. They’d been sceptical when she had confirmed it as an animal kill and their obvious dismissal of her views had shown. Right up until the moment that their crime scene investigators had started talking about the animal hairs they’d got off the severed arm, still lying out on the bog.
At that point, the members of the local constabulary had started taking Miss Abigail Maitland somewhat more seriously.
“Have we any reason to believe it was a breakout?”
Ryan met Lester’s eyes and shook his head. “If it was, it’s the weirdest one I’ve ever seen.”
“Captain, we have twp prisoners missing, frankly, I’ll believe it was an escape attempt until someone proves me wrong.”
“Neither of the men was assessed as an escape risk.”
“The assessments are not infallible, Ryan. The fact remains they’re missing, presumed absconded. The immediate question we need to address is do we keep this place in lockdown tomorrow?” He glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. “Make that today.”
“We’ve enough tension with the overcrowding, sir. Lockdown will only make matters worse. There’s nothing to connect anyone on the inside with what happened out on the moor.”
“Mr Leek recommends full lockdown for another 12 hours.”
It was Ryan’s turn to sigh. “Sir, with respect, Mr Leek recommends full lockdown if a toilet gets blocked or a prisoner farts too loudly. The men are doubled up in their cells and they’ve had sod all exercise or free association since the riots. In my view, it’s asking for trouble to keep them in lockdown.”
Lester stopped pacing and turned to face Ryan, his expression bleak. It was the face of a man who’d gone a full night without sleep. And he wasn’t the only one. “I’ll take your advice on this occasion, Captain. Besides, if the prisoners do know anything, this will be a good opportunity to tap into the rumour mill. You’ll be briefing your men and the guards on exactly what has happened, I presume?”
Ryan nodded. He was knackered, as well as soaking wet, but he knew perfectly well that in common with Lester and several other members of staff, he’d end up doing yet another double shift.
A knock on the door sounded loud in the silence that had fallen, and before the word ‘enter’ was entirely out of the governor’s mouth, the door opened to admit Oliver Leek, the man who held the position of Deputy Governor. He was a young man who had risen very quickly in the Prison Service, after joining the Civil Service on the fast-tracked graduate entry programme, and Ryan didn’t trust him one iota. Leek’s views on crime and punishment made Lester’s look positively liberal.
Ryan was not enjoying his latest posting, although he was careful to keep his opinion to himself, and men like Leek only confirmed him in his view that there was a great deal wrong with the prison system. Locking up men like battery hens was a recipe for disaster. Overcrowding had been a major reason behind the recent trouble at Albany, and the fallout from that was only exacerbating an already tense situation in Dartmoor.
He watched Leek’s pale eyes settle on him without liking. The feeling was mutual, but the soldier was careful not to allow his own dislike to show.
“Get some dry clothes on, Ryan,” said Lester, dismissing him with a nod. “Oliver, does Ms Lewis have a press release ready?”
Leek smiled unctuously and was handing over a piece of paper as Ryan left the room. The man wouldn’t be pleased about the decision to discontinue the lockdown, the soldier was sure of that.
The shower block in the barracks wing was deserted and for once, the water was hot enough to sting. Ryan grabbed a bar of soap and used that on his hair instead of going on a hunt for shampoo. Steam rose around him and the heat started to drive the cold out of his body, although his feet still felt like blocks of ice.
Ryan rubbed the soap into his armpits, washing away the sweat of a long day then dropped his hands to run them over his cock and balls. As he touched himself, a sudden memory of a tall, slim body intruded into his thoughts. An unruly shock of dark hair had only served to make the man look like he’d just climbed out of a bed rather than the back of a prison van. Ryan’s cock twitched in his hand. The blue-eyed prisoner was too bloody good-looking for his own good, even though Ditzy had managed to make a joke of it. Looks like that wouldn’t make the guy’s life easy in any prison, but in this one, with the dregs of Albany in the mix, they would be a curse. There were even several guards who Ryan wouldn’t trust not to pass up any opportunity that might present itself.
His cock was fully hard now and Ryan quickened the movements of his hand. It was rare to get a private moment in prison, even for the men who carried the keys, and he couldn’t remember off-hand when he’d last had the opportunity for a quiet wank. He certainly wasn’t going to pass this one up, although he did keep a wary eye on the door.
The sensations started to heighten and Ryan had no intention of holding his climax back. One last hard stroke and he came, thrusting up into his hand as he tried – without success – to force the sight of a pair of vivid, challenging blue eyes out of his mind.