A guard in the watchtower noticed something was off and loudly warned Maldonado, who was trying to leave the crowd. Two gunshots followed—another guard in the same tower fired, taking Maldonado down.
"Is that the guard who helped Maldonado escape?" Jack asked, pointing at the man who had fired.
The warden, her expression dark and grim, nodded. "Yes, that's Charlie Simic. He's been working here for four years without any record of misconduct."
"What's his family situation? Does he have any relatives nearby?" Jubal followed up.
"He's married. From what I know, he and his wife have a happy life. He also gets along well with his colleagues. I don't understand why he would do this," the warden said, sounding perplexed.
"Maybe that's just on the surface," Jack murmured, thinking for a moment before turning to Jubal. "Have the state police send someone to his house. Let Aubrey and JJ head over there. Even if his wife ran, they might still find some clues at his place."
Jubal nodded and pulled out his phone to send a message. Jack looked back at the determined-looking warden. "Could Simic have had any contact with Maldonado before this?"
The warden shook her head firmly. "Based on duty assignments, they shouldn't have had any direct contact. Like I said, ever since Maldonado was transferred here, he's been kept in solitary confinement with a dedicated team of guards overseeing him. Simic was always assigned to the eastern watchtower—the one involved in today's incident."
"Where are those guards now?" Jack pressed.
"The two on duty have been detained and are being questioned," the warden responded confidently.
It was clear this federal prison had protocols in place. From routine inmate management to emergency response, everything seemed by the book. Jack found no obvious procedural flaws so far. Of course, the presence of an insider like Simic indicated a security failure, but that was something the Bureau of Prisons (BOP) would handle later. Since both the FBI and BOP fell under the Department of Justice, Jack's team didn't need to overstep their jurisdiction.
The real question was: if Maldonado was under strict solitary watch, how had he managed to corrupt Charlie Simic? If someone on the outside orchestrated this prison break, why would they choose Simic, an apparently upstanding guard with a stable family life?
Jack doubted Simic was the only option. It didn't make sense for the masterminds to settle on a guard who normally had no access to Maldonado unless other candidates had been ruled out.
"Wait a minute," Jack said, narrowing his eyes. "You mentioned two guards on duty. That means there's a second shift, right?"
The warden hesitated, then answered, "There are three rotating teams, six guards total responsible for the solitary confinement area."
That was much better than the disorganized private prison from that riot in Chapter 277, Jack noted mentally. Without wasting time, he ordered, "Recall the other two teams. Isolate and interrogate them. Start by questioning their relationships with Simic."
The warden glanced uncertainly at Jubal, who nodded. "Do as Agent Tavola instructed. His orders are my orders."
It was similar to the BAU dynamic—Jubal was like Hotchner, and even senior agents like Rossi deferred to him when protocol demanded it. The warden moved to a corner and quietly issued orders over her radio while Jack and Jubal resumed watching the surveillance footage.
The helicopter landed in the yard. Maldonado, still wearing his orange prison uniform, crouched and ran toward it. Simic quickly climbed down from the watchtower and entered the fenced corridor leading to the yard, meeting Maldonado halfway.
Simic then lifted a section of wire fence that had been cut in advance, slipped into the yard, and followed closely behind Maldonado.
A state police patrol car arrived with sirens blaring. Simic immediately shouldered his M16 and sprayed gunfire at the car, forcing the officers inside to duck for cover. The patrol car officers didn't dare expose themselves until after the helicopter had taken off. Once it ascended, they scrambled out and joined the prison guards in firing at it.
The helicopter's fuselage sparked as bullets struck it, but it quickly gained altitude and disappeared into the sky.
"Pause. Rewind. There. Zoom in on that spot," Jack directed, pointing to the screen.
Alice complied, enlarging a frame showing the helicopter during its escape. Jubal squinted and pointed toward the engine area. "The engine looks like it might have been hit."
The tower camera had a higher resolution than others, but its downward angle limited the view. Still, just before the helicopter vanished from sight, the footage captured a faint trail of black smoke.
Jack smiled. "I checked earlier—TwinStar helicopters have dual engines. Losing one isn't fatal, but it does limit their range. Looks like luck's on our side this time."
Jubal quickly understood. "I'll notify the state police to redeploy helicopters for another search near the prison. We probably miscalculated the search radius earlier."
"Have them send out drones, too. Set up search points every two miles in a fan shape across the eastern forest, then search outward from those points," Jack suggested hesitantly. He knew it was ultimately up to the state police to coordinate such operations. The FBI could provide input, but enforcement was another matter entirely.
Coordinating hundreds of searchers was a complex task requiring highly skilled professionals. It wasn't like in the movies where someone barked orders over a walkie-talkie and everything magically fell into place. Jack knew he wasn't cut out for that level of logistics. At best, he could lead a small six-person tactical team. Anything beyond that required formal training at a military academy.
With the remaining footage still under review, Jack proposed going outside with the warden to survey the scene. As they walked, the warden sighed, "I've recalled all available guards to assist with the investigation."
Jack and Jubal exchanged a wry look. While they couldn't help with the prison's internal accountability process, if the warden cooperated fully, they might keep their report neutral.
"Have you identified the cause of the boiler room explosion? C4?" Jack asked casually.
The question made the warden frown again. "It looks that way. Someone planted explosives on the gas line in the boiler room."
Her face paled, and she seemed overwhelmed. Jack quickly changed the subject to avoid a health emergency. "Tell me about Maldonado's daily routine."
The warden pulled out a small bottle of medication and swallowed two pills before her expression eased. "Sorry, today's events have really spiked my blood pressure."
"Understandable. Let's see... Maldonado had one hour of solo recreation each day. He was prohibited from interacting with other inmates. His cell had an old TV but no access to computers or electronics. Visits were restricted to the prison chaplain."
"The chaplain? How often does he come?" Jubal asked.
"Once a week. Father Ashton visited this morning and administered the Eucharist," the warden replied. "That was part of the deal DEA made with Maldonado. They said he was a devout Catholic."
"Yeah, the DEA files mention that too," Jack sighed. "Is Father Ashton assigned exclusively to this prison?"
"Yes, but he doesn't live here. His church is in Turberville," the warden explained.
Before Jack could speak, Jubal pulled out his phone again. "I'll have Hannah and Clay check it out. Meanwhile, I'll request a background check on the priest."
(End of Chapter)
[Get +20 Extra Chapters On — P@tr3on "Mutter"]
[Every 100 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter Drop]
[Thanks for Reading!]