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Break of a lifetime
#1749
by Goodgulf Part 1
awatcher123Aug 5, 2015
The Break of a Lifetime

Part 1 - The First Plan

Jane Higgins mentally reviewed her situation. It was just after her graduation and she had basically had it all. She had a diploma for her degree in journalism and thanks to a little help from her parents (okay, a lot of help) she had her own little apartment. It wasn't in the best part of town, but it was a start. There was only one thing lacking - a job - but that would come soon enough.



A month later she was still waiting for 'soon' to roll around. She had applied everywhere, from traditional media to the newest forms, and all she had gotten was vague talk about using her as a stringer. She had gotten odd jobs, mostly fact checking, but nothing approaching a byline much less a real job. June was almost over, rent was going to be due, and Jane hated the fact that she would have to ask her parents for more money. She needed a story, a big story, and she needed it now.



Which was why she latched on to a vague rumour. Maybe it was true, maybe it wasn't, but she needed it to be true and she needed to be the one to turn the rumour into a real story. Not that it was a huge story, but it would be huge for her.



It was basically a "where are they now" story. Cassandra Ellen Foster had been a Disney starlet when she broke a cardinal rule - she was busted while her show was still on the air. It was the final session, all the episodes had been shot, but there were still two months worth of shows to air when Cassandra had been busted with pot. Her show was pulled and she rushed into the post teen starlet train wreck career track. She quickly appeared in Playboy, doing a tasteful spread, then months later did a raunchier shoot for Hustler. An art house semi erotic movie followed, then a year later she did a mid budget porno. After that, nothing, at least nothing to now.



There were rumours. Some people thought that she was smoking pot on a beach in Mexico, others said snorting coke in South America, some had her backpacking across Europe, or in jail somewhere under her real name. Most people didn't think of her at all, but if Jane could locate her then Jane could sell that story and Jane had heard a rumour, a solid rumour, about where Cassandra could be found. If the rumour was true former teen starlet wasn't just in jail, she was incarcerated at the Carnacki Correctional Institute for Women. It was a hybrid place, a state sponsored private faculty that was partly paid for by the county and had a contract with the city. It was local, but isolated on a private island, one served by a bridge at the end of a long county road. Any escapee would be hours away from civilisation and if they didn't stay near the only road they could be lost for days in the wooded areas - not that Jane had ever heard about escapes from there. Actually she hadn't heard much about that place.



Nor did research turn up much. It had a bare bones website with contact information. The site said it was under construction, promising more soon, but it hadn't been update in a couple of years. She couldn't find much mention of it in any archive she searched, other than a joke that the staff there "knew" what you were really of. There were a few sites that speculated about a connection between the place and the Great Carnacki, but most sources pointed out that was as likely as someone in real life being connected to Sherlock Holmes as both were fictional characters.



When she tried to arrange a visit with an inmate, Jane was curtly informed that only people on the authorised list could visit, and no, they didn't give out information on that list.



With her options running out (and the threat that someone else might discover where Cassandra was), Jane started going to the right parties. She wasn't always invited, but she had enough friends from university and from other sources that she could slip in as a friend of a friend. She had to admit that having nice looks helped, at least when it came to getting in the door, but looks alone weren't doing anything to get her where she needed to be.



With great reluctance, Jane started spreading the word that she would do "anything" to get an interview with a certain woman who was being held in the Carnacki Correctional Institute for Women. She didn't name who she wanted to interview, but she accepted that she would almost certainly have to spread her legs to get on the visitors' list. That, or wear out her tongue or do something even more kinky, but she needed that story if she wanted to score a real job.



It took longer than she hoped it would, she had to borrow from her parents to cover rent (and food, utilities, and everything else), but finally she found someone at a party who would be her white knight and had a way in. The good news was he didn't want her to spread her legs for the invite, but the bad news was she wouldn't be a visitor.But any port in a storm, beggars can't be choosers, never look a gift horse in the mouth, and all the rest of those old saying were telling her to do it.


Two days after that party, Jane received an unexpected call. One that led her to a mysterious meeting, just like Woodward and Bernstein... Only it was at a coffee shop, not a parking garage, and the only real mystery was why her cousin wanted to meet with her. That and why was he suggesting a meet at 2 PM when he had a real job.



Her cousin, David Jamison, was older than her. Jane was barely in her early 20s while David was in his late 20s. He had a gotten a job, a real job, right out of college, but Jane wasn't sure what he did. She knew it was something to do with computers, but that could be anything. She thought he might be working for some branch of the government; there were a lot of people on that side of the family that had jobs like that. Then again, he might be working at a video game studio that took their NDA seriously.



He was already seated when she arrived, off in one corner by himself. He had a laptop out, working away. Jane grabbed a coffee and moved to join him.



He didn't look up when sat, he just asked in a quiet voice:



"Are you completely crazy? Seriously, I want to know if sanity runs in the family."



"Huh? What are you..."



"Getting your self smuggling into a jail just to do an interview," David clarified. "That's crazy."



"How did you..."

"You were at a party with your friend Trish Sweeting, and Trish is roommates with Cassie who is a friend of Amy whose BFF is Jillie who is Vikki's little sister," David told her. "Trish overheard what you were doing and it spread across the grapevine."



"Vikki? Who's she?" Jane asked, stalling for time.



"Vikki Morris? She's the girl who spends about three nights a week sleeping over at my place," David told her.



"We've been together for a couple of years. You might have met her at some family thing? Not ringing a bell? Well we do move in different crowds. I don't think Vikki knew we were relatives, not when she confided the story of the head case who wanted to spend time in jail."



"But I need that interview," Jane whined, mentally cursing her tone. She knew she sounded more like a sulking teen than a college graduated. She leaned in to confide, "It's with Cassandra Ellen Foster; the one teen starlet that Disney had to drop when she was still on the air. It's sure to get me a real job."



"Who? Wait, you mean that has been? You think that doing a fluff piece on someone everyone's forgotten is going to get you a job?" David snorted.



"It won't be a fluff piece," Jane countered.



"It has to be a fluff piece," David asserted. "You're been posing as an inmate and inmates don't have access to recording equipment.



"So?"



"So you ask her 'why are you in jail' and she says, oh, she says that she was sacrificing babies to Satan so he would restart her career. You get out of jail and go running to an editor and he says 'sacrificing babies? great,

let me hear it in her own voice' and you can't play it back for him because you didn't have access to any recording devices," David said.



"Well maybe I'll find an editor who believes me," Jane said, doubting her own words.



"If you do, their legal department won't let him run anything that might be defamatory," David told her. "Look, she's a has been, right? I didn't hear about any trial with celebrity lawyers, which means she must be out of cash. If she tells you a bunch of lies she can get her lawyer to sue, collect millions, and fund her appeal with that money."



"That's only if I believe she's there for killing babies," Jane countered weakly.



"It doesn't have to be something like," David smiled. "She could tell you that she was caught carrying a kilo of heroin when it was just enough grass to be possession with intent, and you'd believe it. Hell, she might be able to tell a lawyer that she's there for parking tickets."



"You don't go to jail for parking tickets," Jane scoffed.



"Maybe not for the tickets themselves," David admitted. "But eventually they send you a summon to appear in court to pay them. If you blow that off you're looking at a missed appearance. Miss a couple of appearances and you'll looking at obstruction of justice and contempt of court, and you go to jail for those things. Yeah, you have to work at it, but if you show total contempt for the court system they put your ass in jail. Even if it just started out as parking tickets."



Jane wanted to protest, but then remembered something that had happen in high school. Jane had heard about a girl who actually spent a week in juvie because she racked up dozens of tickets and missed court dates. She returned to school saying how angry the judge had been, not over the tickets but because she had wasted the court's time when she didn't show up.



"Okay, maybe she is in jail for blowing off tickets, but damn it, I needed that story," Jane sulked.



"Look, I had to get some legal papers taken care of this morning and I needed to book an entire personal day to handle things," David began. "It's early, but why don't we hit that bar down the block? Turn these coffees into Irish Coffees or Long Island ice teas or something as we toast the story that never was. And I'm buying, I have to."



"You have to?" Jane asked dubiously. "Someone is making you buy drinks?"



"Pretty much," David agreed. "My boss had me in his office last week. It seems I have an expense account, no, I don't know why, it's not like I ever meet with people outside the company. Anyway, if I don't use soon I'll lose it, and that will be money going out of his department, and my boss isn't going to let that happen."
"Drinking with your cousin is an expense?" Jane asked.
"Make a list of every group that has said you can be a stringer for them," David said with a smile. "I'll write it down as drinking with a bunch of reporters and telling them nothing. The accountants will clear that. And Jane? I'm glad you came to your senses. No cousin of mine belongs in jail, even as a fake inmate."

Break of a Lifetime Part two
by Goodgulf
#1758
awatcher123Aug 8, 2015
Part 2 - The Second Plan
Jane woke up with a headache, but she had had to get really drunk; and not just because her story was dead. As far as she was concerned, she needed to have at least one drink for every group that said she could act as a stringer for. She ended up brunching with her friend Trish Sweeting (she of the big mouth) and airing her tale of woe.



Not that Trish (who was also looking for her first real post college job) was sympathetic.



"I don't get you," Trish said. "You luck out by getting a way in without having to sleep with the guy, then you get someone buying your drinks all night and don't even have to suck him off, and all you do is complain."



"I couldn't suck him off," Jane moaned, holding her throbbing head. "He's my cousin. I've known him forever. And getting in doesn't matter anymore. He's right. I can't be the single source for a hard hitting story and no one's hiring me over a fluff piece. Maybe I should just call a tabloid and see if they'll kick me a finder's fee for telling them where she is."



"You see? You've got it all figured out and you don't even know it," Trish grinned.



"What figured out?"



"You just said it, single source," Trish grinned. "We get that guy, what's his name? Andy Gates?"



"Anton Gates," Jane muttered.



"So we get him to smuggle both of us in," Trish told her. "That way it's not single sourced, I'm there too."



"Trish, you'd do that for me?"



"Sure. I could use two weeks off from the job hunt," Trish grinned. "Besides, I went on one of those scared straight things and jail didn't look all that bad. Free clothes, free meals, you get to do nothing all day. This way I can see what jail's really like without getting a record."



"Trish, you're the best!"



"That's the smartest thing you've said all day."


The new plan made sense to them, but Anton Gates wasn't as sure.



"Okay, maybe I can do it, but how did your cousin hear about it anyway?"



"That's my fault," Trish admitted. "I told my roommates, and one of them told a friend who told her BFF whose big sister is dating him. I know, small world. And Kevin Bacon's name didn't even come up."



"Uh, yeah, the thing is, when go in undercover you don't tell the entire world first," Anton muttered.



"Oh, I fixed it," Trish beamed. "I told my roommates that Jane couldn't make the plan work, so we're going on a mini vacation instead. They'll all talk and everyone will know that we aren't going in, so we can, right?"



"Uh, yeah, but, um, it's not that easy," Anton told them. "It's more than just me faking some paperwork and sending you out on the transfer van. You've got to look the part, and that's going to cost you, and not just money."



Trish's look told him what she thought the cost was.



"I mean you'll both have to buy uniforms and get your hair done," Anton explained.



"Buy? Don't they issue them?" Jane asked.



"What's wrong with my hair?" Trish asked.



"Normally, they do issue them, but you won't be new inmates. You'll be inmates transferring in, because the county jail is overflowing again. The Carnacki doesn't normally take inmates for less than a month, but they do take overflow. And they'll expect the county jail to put you in the right uniform before you get there."



"Would it be cheaper to spend a month there?" Jane asked.



"My hair looks fine," Trish said.



"Yeah, about that, neither of you know anything about the Carnacki, do you?" Anton asked. He didn't pause to hear their answers. "You see, and the thing is, well, there was that special law passed a few years ago and, well, they use corporal punishment there."



"What?" Jane asked.



"My hair is... WTF? Sorry Jane, you're on your own," Trish said. "No one is spanking my butt."



"Let me explain," Anton said. "When a girl is sent there she has to strip off, shower, get her hair done, then she's introduced to the strap, but that only happens when a girl is sentenced there," Anton told them. "When there's a transfer, and it's for less than a month, everything is different. They don't introduce you to the strap. You don't have to worry about it unless you, I don't know, riot or something."



"Then I'll do it, but I still like my hair."



"Trish!"



"Chill! It'll be a blast," Trish told her. "Playing inmate is one thing, but this just makes things even better. Like those time I slept over where the parents were strict and I knew, really knew, that the most they'd do was yell or send me home, but might, just might have been a chance that they'd freak out on me like I was one of their kids."



"I never went on one of those," Jane said. "And I don't plan to now."



"Really?" Trish teased. "You never knew someone whose parents spanked? You never spent anytime under a roof where spankings happened?"



Jane opened her mouth, paused, then closed it. She had to look away to answer.



"Not since I was 'tween, if then," Jane muttered, wishing that Anton wasn't there so she could talk this out with Trish.



"See? There's nothing like being almost, kind of, in danger, but not really," Trish said, her eyes gleaming.



"Some guy said there was nothing like being shot at and missed, and it's like that, kind of."



"Churchill," Anton said.



"Huh?"



"Winston Churchill said that bit about being shot at and missed," Anton told her.



"I don't think I know him," Trish said. "Is he local? Anyway, what's wrong with my hair?"



"Nothing, but it's not what you'd been wearing at the Carnacki," Anton told her. "That's one of the reasons there's never been a successful escape from there. The moment they get there, well, after the shower, the inmates get their hair cut. They all get the same style, so you can spot them if they're walking down the road, and they all get the same dye job."



"What? Blonde?" Trish asked.



"We don't need to know because we aren't going," Jane said.



Anton couldn't answer more than one girl at a time. Jane discovered that it was now her turn to be ignored.



"No, a custom shade of red," Anton explained. "No one else has it. You see a girl with that shade of red and hairstyle you know she just got out of Carnacki. Which is another way it will cost you; you'll want to shave your head after you get out, unless you want everyone to know you were inside."



"That's crazy," Jane said.



"Cool!" Trish gushed. "I just got a job."



"Huh?" Jane asked.



"I've got a plan," Trish said with a smile. "I should have thought it earlier. This will be so cool! I'll shave my head and say I did it in support of friend. That's so worth brownie points in job interviews. Companies like people who can commit, and what's a bigger commitment than shaving your head for a friend?"



"Um, it's more than just your head," Anton admitted. "That's another, something I was working up to. Um, well, it's like this. The Carnacki used to have a problem with lice, so they took steps. The dye has a powerful chemical that kills lice and, well, they make you shave the rest of your hair. Including your bikini zone."



"Do we have to shave?" Jane asked in horror.



She styled, and trimmed, but she had never gone in for stripper chic when it came to tattoos, piercings, or having a bare pussy. Jane told herself that she wasn't a judgmental person, but there was just something too tacky about that lifestyle.



"That's right, can't we just dye it another colour?" Trish asked. "Not that I would, well maybe I might go blonde again and see if blonde will get me a job. That way I won't have to wait for my hair to grow back."



"Sorry, but that's part of the escape proof bit," Anton told her. "I don't know what the chemical is, but if you try to dye it out it turns your hair green. You'd think that blench would work, but that kills the hair almost down the root. Makes it white, straw like, and it breaks like crazy. You'll better off shaving."



"But why did we have to shave everywhere?" Jane asked again. "It's not like anyone will see it."



Trish didn't ask anything, so Anton had to answer it.



"Remember when I mentioned the shower?" Anton asked in reply. "You won't have privacy for that. In fact you won't have a private shower until you get out. That's why you have to shave everywhere."



"Oh, chill," Trish said. "Sometimes it's fun to go bare. Sure, it itches when it grows back, but it feels nice when you rub your..."



Trish paused, smiled, glanced at Anton, and said, "Never mind. I'll tell you later."



"Ah, yeah, well, like I told Jane, I'm willing to do this in exchange a future favour," Anton said. "You never know when you'll need a favour from a reporter. And I can even get your hair done for free because favours make the world go round, but the uniforms? That's a cash transaction. Look, here's how it'll go down."



Trish and Jane listened as Anton spelled out how things would work. Focusing on the details, Jane forgot that she had pulled the plug on the plan. Which she had, drawing the line at the shave, but as the details were discussed she found herself nodding along.



Later she wondered how she could do it. How she could wash in front of others. She wasn't one of those girls who changed under a towel, but she didn't linger in the changing room. She usually showered in her bathing suit and when she changed it was a quick step out of her suit then step into her panties, usually in the same movement. With her back to anyone else in the room.



But at the time her worries were drowned out with details, and there were many of them. First, the charge. Anton would produce some bogus court paperwork (and it would all be in paper form, nothing would go in the computer) that showed that Jane (and now Trish) had gotten drunk in a bar. A couple of cops asked them to move it along and the pair had thrown drinks in their faces. That had resulted in felony charges of assaulting an on duty police officers with a weapon (the drink) and resisting arrest. The paperwork would show that the pair had pleaded guilty to misdemeanour drunken disorder, taking a month in jail to make the felony charges go away. When the woman's county jail got too crowded they were supposed to release non violent offenders, but if a judge had noted that there had been some violent factor that weren't reflected in the plea then a prisoner could be transferred to Carnacki.



"Not that it happens often," Anton told them. "I've never actually been part of one these transfers before, but I've reviewed the paper trail from other ones and this is how they happen."



The paperwork had them arriving at Carnacki on July 10, leaving on July 24, giving them two weeks to get the interview.



"Now I've arranged for you to get uniforms the Friday before, that's the seventh," Anton told them. "And I can have someone drop by Jane's apartment that Sunday to do your hair. Then on Monday, at 10 AM, I'll pick you up at Jane's apartment. Wear the uniforms, but bring another outfit in plastic bag. And I mean an entire outfit - shoes, underwear, whatever jewellery you normally wear, the whole bit."



"Why?" Jane asked. "We'll be wearing the uniforms."



"I'll put your things into a prison transfer box, and that's what you'll change into before you leave," Anton explained. "There's no way they'd ever let you leave in a uniform, and if you tried you'd be picked up as an escapee."



"But what about the uniforms we're bring?" Trish pressed.



"They'll think they are the ones they share with the county," Anton explained patiently. "Inmates don't have their own clothes. Everything runs out a central laundry. Maybe they'll notice they have an extra couple of skirts floating around, but they have thousands of pieces of laundry. What are the odds they'd ever notice?"



"You mean we buy clothes and just leave them there?" Trish asked, aghast at the thought.



"That's right," Anton nodded. "Let me write out this timetable for you, so it will all be clear."



The two girls put their heads together with him, working out all the details. Trish added a few of her own, planning to go to Jane's place that Friday.



"That's the only way it works," Trish explained. "I'll tell my roommates we're leaving on Friday night, coming back Monday afternoon, because that's how these trips usually work."


Later, when they were reviewing thing back at Jane's place, Jane was wondering if it was too late to back out. Trish had her own thoughts, and those ended up dominating the conversation.



"Do you think Anton's gay?" Trish asked. "I mean, he's trading a future favour with you, but what about me? He's doing my paperwork for free. And he didn't even try to get in my pants. Not that I really wanted him to, but I never got a chance to turn him down. But I didn't really get the fag vibe from him. Maybe it's his clothes. He wears office grey and all the homos I know have fashion sense. But maybe not all homos do, you know?"



With Trish focused on Anton's sexuality, Jane never got the chance to suggest they call things off.

There are at least 16 parts. It's gonna take some time.

And here is the new photo album for this story:
app.php/gallery/album/25

Continue reading with part three here