"P.I?" Nolan pretended not to understand and asked.
"Prison Industries." Michael replied. "Maybe I can get both of us in."
"And what is the benefit of joining?" Nolan asked.
"You will have more time for activities, you will not have to stay locked up all the time like now, and there is pay." Michael explained the benefits.
"How much is the pay?" Nolan asked.
"Fifteen cents an hour." Michael replied.
Nolan smiled. "In an illegal workshop they pay more than that, but it does not matter, I want more activities."
Before Michael could answer, Nolan took the initiative to ask: "What price do I have to pay if you help me?"
Michael smiled slightly. "For now, nothing."
"Alright," Nolan answered and said nothing more. ...
Time passed and Area A of the prison had a quiet night. In the morning, during yard hour, the deaths of the three prisoners seemed like a thing of the past and the impact had dissipated.
The prisoners returned to the yard as usual, but anyone with a bit of sense could notice: the tension was evident, blacks and whites were restless, they acted as if a war could break out at any moment.
Michael moved alone as always and went to talk with Westmoreland, Abruzzi, for his part, went again to the payphone.
There, he called one of his men outside and got straight to the point: "Did you find out?"
"Yes, but this Nolan does not seem as powerful as you say."
"How is that?" Abruzzi asked.
"Nolan, 25 years old, born in New York, lived there most of the time, moved to Chicago two years ago, unemployed, until two months ago he had no record, not even a traffic ticket."
"But two months ago, in a street fight, he killed five people, he was arrested, sentenced and sent to Fox River, he does not seem like the kind of man you describe."
Abruzzi was confused too, Chicago is his territory, if Nolan had gained influence there in the last two years, he should have heard of him, but he had not.
So how is it possible that someone like that acted with such calm and boldness as he did yesterday? That temper was not that of a simple gangster.
On the other end of the line they asked: "John?"
Abruzzi came to his senses. "The Nolan you describe and the one I deal with seem like two different people, I want more details, investigate better."
"And his family?" Abruzzi insisted.
"He has none, his parents died in an accident a year ago, he is not married and has no children, we could not find anyone."
That complicated things. Abruzzi rubbed his forehead. "And a girlfriend? There is always someone important."
"For now he does not seem to have anyone, we will keep looking." the voice on the other end said.
"Good, do it quickly." Abruzzi hung up and, turning, saw him, Nolan was a few meters away, looking at him and smiling as if he had been waiting, Abruzzi understood and approached.
"Did you find out anything about me?" Nolan asked with a smile, he was truly curious about the answer.
Abruzzi was not very surprised and shook his head. "You are strange, there is not much to find."
"Let's walk and talk," Nolan suggested, not wanting other inmates to hear, Abruzzi agreed and they started walking.
"John, tell me, what did you find? I lost my memory and I hardly remember anything, can you tell me?"
"What?" Abruzzi looked at him incredulously, for a moment he thought Nolan was mocking him, but what sense would that make?
"You always surprise, Nolan," he said with a tense smile.
"That should be a good thing," Nolan replied.
Abruzzi recounted what he had just heard on the phone, when he finished, Nolan remained thoughtful, orphan, gangster, killed five, a background built with detail.
"So you have nothing to threaten me with," Nolan said with a smile.
Abruzzi answered: "Everyone has something they care about, I don't think you are the exception."
"Keep looking then," Nolan replied. "But before I go, make sure you give me what I asked for."
Abruzzi did not answer, Nolan added nothing and stepped away a few paces before adding: "By the way, John, I have nothing to do with my cellmate."
Abruzzi remained pensive. ...
Not long after, Michael intercepted him. "What did my cellmate want with you?" he asked suspiciously.
"That's none of your business," Abruzzi replied calmly.
Michael frowned, let him pass and changed the subject: "I want you to get us into P.I, me, my cellmate and Lincoln Burrows, the three of us."
"Lincoln Burrows?" Abruzzi raised an eyebrow. "Why him?"
"That's none of your business." Michael replied.
"Hahaha," he laughed with scorn. "I can do it, but listen well: if you don't give me Fibonacci, I will not only kill you, I will also kill everyone you care about, understood?"
"Understood," Michael replied without hesitation. "When we are outside, you will have Fibonacci."
"For your sake, I hope so." Abruzzi threw the threat and went straight to look for Bellick.
Michael watched him go, then turned to Nolan, sitting at the side of the yard, and frowned. There is something strange about that guy, he did not know exactly what, but that uncertainty set off alarm bells.
In fact, he already considered him a dangerous factor. "I'll test him," he thought. "And if it doesn't work, I'll change partners."
His eyes fell on Sucre, on the other side of the yard. He had been watching him for days, listening, he knew Sucre had fallen for a theft and was thinking of the woman he left outside.
Compared to Nolan, a killer, Sucre seemed a much more reliable partner.