Take the Reason Prisoner Page 6

house as he had come, by the backdoor. Then stepping quietly but quickly, he went to the south side ofthe Processing Building at the corner nearest the AdministrationBuilding. All the offices were dark. Only scratches of light--probablymatches to cigarette tips--flickered briefly out of the windows of thesecond-story where the staff was housed.

  The mess hall was also dark but as Bennington watched, a short burstof submachine gun fire tracered across the darkness from the kitchentoward the armory.

  "Listen, you screws, listen to this!"

  The gigantic voice thundered through every corner of the compound. Fora second Bennington was startled, then he remembered. The rioterscontrolled Message Center and the PA system.

  "Stop shooting at us. Don't forget that half your staff is in here.Every time you shoot one of us, we are shooting one of them."

  The words came through on only part of Bennington's attention. Theyregistered, but he was also studying the seventy feet of open groundbetween him and the nearest door into the mess hall.

  The big voice again filled the compound.

  "We want to talk to the warden if he's still alive. Or whoever cantake his place if he ain't. You got five minutes to call us on theintercom."

  I can talk to them from the kitchen if I can get there, Benningtonthought.

  He glanced back over his shoulder. The moon, thought full, was onlypart-way up.

  _I'm sixty-five, but maybe I've got one fast run still left._

  He did. He made it without a shot being fired.

  But he stayed on his belly just outside the door, remembering thesubmachine gun. From the shadow of the step into the mess hall, heused his command voice to get safe passage.

  "Thornberry!"

  "General Bennington!"

  The psychologist almost twisted Bennington's hand off before he couldspeak. Then his first words puzzled the general. "We've got to findJudkins."

  "Why?"

  "I want to know what went wrong--"

  "That can wait. Let's put the fire out first, then learn how itstarted. Who's here with you?"

  "The two guards. Rayburne! Householder! Come here!"

  "Only those two? Where's the kitchen staff?"

  "Dead," said Thornberry soberly.

  There was a roaring in the skies and through a window Bennington couldsee the compound was almost as brightly lit up as it was by day.

  "The riot-copter, and before I expected it," the general said, "I'vebeen in touch with the State police. And the Army."

  There was another short burst of submachine fire. Bennington mentallyplaced it as behind the Administration Building. _Someone trying tosneak out the back way...._

  "Stop that shooting!" The PA confirmed his thoughts. "No one else isgoing to try to leave here. Warden, get on that intercom!"

  _Got to hurry_, Bennington thought, _I've got to get them talking andkeep them talking_.

  "Householder and Rayburne, get over to the parking lot. The Statepolice are coming there. Bring five of the six over here. Keep theother man by his car radio. If he can switch to the Army frequency, orcan get in touch with the Army copters thorough his Headquarters,guide their planes to land behind Barracks Four. Tell General Mosbywhere I am. Tell him before he lands, so that he can plan hisdeployment.

  "Take off. Thornberry, come with me."

  * * * * *

  The two of them clambered over the counter and carefully, to avoidstepping on the dead, made their way to the kitchen office in thesouthwest corner of the mess hall. Thorough one of its windows, theAdministration Building could be clearly seen.

  The intercom was directly in front of the window.

  Bennington seated himself and turned the intercom switch to MessageCenter.

  "This is General Bennington, the warden of this prison," he saidclearly. "I am in the kitchen office. To show my confidence in thefact that we can arrange a bargain, I am turning on the light in thisroom. You will be able to see me clearly."

  "No!" broke out Thornberry, staring at Bennington.

  "Turn them on," said Bennington.

  Thornberry hesitated for a heartbeat, obeyed the order. Then, movingwith deliberation, he seated himself beside the general.

  "This is Musto," came from the intercom. "I'm boss over here. You'vegot guts, Bennington, I've read about you. But don't forget, two of myboys have you and the other guy on line down the sights of theirrifles. Any sign of something screwy, and you two get it first."

  "There has to be mutual trust for any kind of bargaining," Benningtonreplied. "This is mine, right out where you can see it."

  "O.K. Now, first, get that copter off the top of this building."

  Musto spoke with the assurance that his order would be obeyed.

  "Go to hell," said Bennington easily.

  "WHAT!"

  "That copter above you, and the Army battalion that will be here in afew minutes, are for me what those rifles you have aimed are for you.You can knock me off, sure. But how long are you going to live toenjoy the thrill?"

  "Well, I'll be--" and Musto described his relationship to a femaledog.

  "I can't confirm or deny your opinion of yourself," Bennington said,and forced himself to chuckle. "Now, let's get down to business. Whatdo you want?"

  "Pardons. For all of us. For all crimes."

  Bennington whistled. "That's a big order. And in return?"

  "Your staff stays alive."

  Flatly. There was no question Musto meant what he said.

  "That means I'll have to talk with the governors of six states,"Bennington temporized.

  "That's your worry."

  The general sighed. "All right, you've got Message Center. Connectthis phone with the outside. Remember, this is going to take a while."

  "That don't worry us, general. Add up how much time we've got comingdue over here. It's all you need and then some."

  * * * * *

  Bennington lifted the phone on the desk and waited. He could see anirregular flickering, like a cigarette lighter, in the Message CenterRoom. Then the familiar buzzing sounded in his ears.

  Once more he dialed "0". "Operator? This is Warden Bennington of DuncannonPrison. Please arrange, with top priority, a person-to-person conferenceline with this prison and the governors of Pennsylvania, Delaware, NewYork, Maryland, New Jersey and Connecticut. Yes, call me, when theconnection is completed."

  "And don't forget, we'll be listening," came simultaneously from theintercom and the telephone.

  "I expect you to," Bennington said promptly and hung up. At the sametime, he switched off the intercom.

  He leaned back in his chair and, for the first time in years, foundhimself aware of a long-forgotten feeling. The center of his foreheadtingled as if it were being brushed by a silky feather.

  He knew the sensation, had felt it before. Someone had a gun on him.And that someone was a mere thirty yards away.

  The general turned his chair toward Thornberry, felt that feathertingle along the nerves of his scalp. The psychologist was sittingstiffly erect, his hands firmly clenched together in his lap.

  "Tell me what happened after I left you," Bennington said. He kept awary eye on his assistant warden. The man seemed in the civilianequivalent of battle shock.

  Thornberry sat at attention, as if he were delivering a formal report."The guards lined up the prisoners in columns of twos and marched themto the mess hall. There they split the column. The left half went tothe south door, the right half went to the north door. I followed theline to the north door. They seemed to be piled in fast. When most ofthem were in on my side, I squeezed by the rest and went to the backof the hall. Rayburne and Householder, of course, stayed outside."

  Thornberry's hands were slowly unclenching. Telling what happenedseemed to relieve his tension.

  "Both lines moved quickly, except for the last man in the south line.I thought he seemed to be dragging deliberately so. And for somereason or the other, all the prisoners--even those at
the tables,except the drugged ones, hadn't started eating--watched him. But Icould see no reason for alarm.

  "I was at the back and the two guards, with their guns, were at eachdoor. There was a counter between the prisoners and the kitchen, and,most important, these men had been conditioned or drugged. Then theone who was dragging got to the coffee urn with his tray."

  Thornberry shivered and then slumped in his chair. "It was the mostshocking thing I have ever experienced because what happened wasagainst everything that I have ever learned. Those conditioned men inthe mess hall went mad. Before the guards could fire more than acouple of shots, all the conditioned ones had thrown their trays atme, at the