“A marine guard stood at attention. The floors were pale-green linoleum atop concrete; the corridor echoed as she walked. The gate slid shut behind her, filling her with dread. A red sign on the wall said B-WING. The cinderblock walls in this section of the Quantico brig, Special Quarters One, were painted white. In this wing, violent rapists and murderers were incarcerated. Security cameras were everywhere. Her escort, the duty brig commander, led her to a door marked CELL BLOCK B and held it o...pen. It was eight-thirty in the morning.Another guard snapped to attention. She was taken to a windowed visitors’ room just off the cell block, shown to a blue chair at a wooden conference table. She sat and waited in the cold.A few minutes later a rattling and clanking of chains announced his arrival.Flanked by two large guards, Tom stood before her naked, except for gray military-issue undershorts. He was in handcuffs, leg irons, and a connecting waist chain. His head had been shaved. He was shivering.Tears sprang to her eyes.He said, “Thanks for coming.”She began to weep.She got to her feet.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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