The Bomb and the Cage: Doree Anne Read Online Free Page A
Author: Eugene W Cusie
and shoes.” You search the clothing carefully making sure there wasn’t any hidden contraband while at the same time being extra careful not to get stabbed by a needle or cut by a razor blade that might be hidden. Then once the clothing is searched you set it somewhere away from the inmate just in case you missed something. You’d do all this while maintaining eye contact.
Then came the second part of the search, the strip part.
“Take off your boxers and hand them to me.” You repeat the same process as before. Sometimes in the waistband of the boxers, they will cut tiny slits and stuff it with things like - drugs, needles, razors, and every now and then a homemade knife or as we like to call it, a shank . For the final part of the search, there were many ways to do this and each way based on how you felt. If he wasn’t a problem, you’d say, “Spread your arms out, wiggle your fingers, open your mouth and take your left hand and run it through the inside of your mouth. Run your hands through your hair. Lift up your penis and balls, turn around, spread your cheeks, squat, and cough three times, lift your legs and wiggle your toes.”
If they had a bad attitude or you just felt like being a jerk then you did the penis, balls, and ass first and made them run their dirty hands through their mouth last. They always looked at you as if you were crazy, but they didn’t have a choice. They had to do as you said. In prison, the officers always have the final say, or at least they did now until some bleeding heart liberal finally gets it their way and we start giving hugs to every rapist, child molester, and murderer that comes to prison. It’s a sad world we live in and it’s getting sadder every day.
Chapter 6
09/18/2004 0911 Hours
Officer Ted Bryant
I worked with Unit 5, in Zone 7 , which covered the stretch of Highway 27 from a mile before Clearwater Correctional Institution to Main Streetin Clearwater . We were a traffic unit but did get the occasional house call. It was a small town and with a Sheriff’s Office covering the area, we never got too busy.
On the edge of our working zone, there’s is a hotel called The Palace and it was off of Highway 27, on the opposite side, a car dealership that sold handicap vehicles and a gas station. Farther north was the Sheriff’s Office responsibility. This was near the exit for the Turnpike , which was another reason to be a hangout spot for us. When people got off the Turnpike , they tend to forget to adjust their speed. I once pulled over a guy on Highway 27 going eighty miles an hour. I don’t know who was more shocked, for going that fast, or me when my radar gun started freaking out when he pasted.
There wasn’t much in our zone. We stayed away from the prison since they handled their own business, which wasn’t much, and my partner took care of the other side past the prison. I’d pull people over for speeding and drove through each of the three parking lots at least eight times throughout a shift. It was while I sat in the parking lot of The Palace when I heard the explosion from Clearwater Correctional Institution .
The explosion felt like it was next to me. My ears rang while I looked around, searching for the cause. I couldn’t see the prison but it was the first thing that came to mind. There was a water treatment plant on site run by the inmates. CCI was a wastewater training facility, one of only two in the state. What if one of the inmates made a mistake?
“ Unit Five to Unit Thirty-Two , come in!” My radio crackled to life.
“ Unit Thirty-Two go ahead.”
“Did you hear that bang? Sounds like it came from your side.” I put my car in gear.
“Sure did, sounds like it came from CCI . I’m heading that way to check it out.”
“Okay, I’m tied up right now with an accident about a mile from Main Street . I will be on my way shortly.”
“Okay, take your time; I’m sure it’s nothing too bad. It was loud but it could
Then came the second part of the search, the strip part.
“Take off your boxers and hand them to me.” You repeat the same process as before. Sometimes in the waistband of the boxers, they will cut tiny slits and stuff it with things like - drugs, needles, razors, and every now and then a homemade knife or as we like to call it, a shank . For the final part of the search, there were many ways to do this and each way based on how you felt. If he wasn’t a problem, you’d say, “Spread your arms out, wiggle your fingers, open your mouth and take your left hand and run it through the inside of your mouth. Run your hands through your hair. Lift up your penis and balls, turn around, spread your cheeks, squat, and cough three times, lift your legs and wiggle your toes.”
If they had a bad attitude or you just felt like being a jerk then you did the penis, balls, and ass first and made them run their dirty hands through their mouth last. They always looked at you as if you were crazy, but they didn’t have a choice. They had to do as you said. In prison, the officers always have the final say, or at least they did now until some bleeding heart liberal finally gets it their way and we start giving hugs to every rapist, child molester, and murderer that comes to prison. It’s a sad world we live in and it’s getting sadder every day.
Chapter 6
09/18/2004 0911 Hours
Officer Ted Bryant
I worked with Unit 5, in Zone 7 , which covered the stretch of Highway 27 from a mile before Clearwater Correctional Institution to Main Streetin Clearwater . We were a traffic unit but did get the occasional house call. It was a small town and with a Sheriff’s Office covering the area, we never got too busy.
On the edge of our working zone, there’s is a hotel called The Palace and it was off of Highway 27, on the opposite side, a car dealership that sold handicap vehicles and a gas station. Farther north was the Sheriff’s Office responsibility. This was near the exit for the Turnpike , which was another reason to be a hangout spot for us. When people got off the Turnpike , they tend to forget to adjust their speed. I once pulled over a guy on Highway 27 going eighty miles an hour. I don’t know who was more shocked, for going that fast, or me when my radar gun started freaking out when he pasted.
There wasn’t much in our zone. We stayed away from the prison since they handled their own business, which wasn’t much, and my partner took care of the other side past the prison. I’d pull people over for speeding and drove through each of the three parking lots at least eight times throughout a shift. It was while I sat in the parking lot of The Palace when I heard the explosion from Clearwater Correctional Institution .
The explosion felt like it was next to me. My ears rang while I looked around, searching for the cause. I couldn’t see the prison but it was the first thing that came to mind. There was a water treatment plant on site run by the inmates. CCI was a wastewater training facility, one of only two in the state. What if one of the inmates made a mistake?
“ Unit Five to Unit Thirty-Two , come in!” My radio crackled to life.
“ Unit Thirty-Two go ahead.”
“Did you hear that bang? Sounds like it came from your side.” I put my car in gear.
“Sure did, sounds like it came from CCI . I’m heading that way to check it out.”
“Okay, I’m tied up right now with an accident about a mile from Main Street . I will be on my way shortly.”
“Okay, take your time; I’m sure it’s nothing too bad. It was loud but it could
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