Suddenly, Cleaver is the center of attention. He can't help but feel this is a good thing.
46 Connor
Roland is slowly breaking. He confesses to many things, petty acts of vandalism and theft, that Connor couldn't care less about. But this is going to work. It has to work. Connor has no other plan to bring him to justice—it has to work.
"I've done a lot of things," Roland tells him through the three bullet holes in the crate. "But I never killed anybody!"
Connor just listens. He barely speaks to him anymore. Connor finds the less he speaks, the more Roland does.
"How do you know they're even dead?"
"Because I buried them. Me and the Admiral."
"Then you did it!" says Roland. "You did it, and you're trying to make me take the blame!"
Now Connor begins to see the flaw in his plan. If he lets Roland out without a confession, then he's a dead man. But he can't keep him in there forever. His options are now narrower than the spaces between the crates.
Then a voice calls to them from outside. "Is anyone there? Connor? Roland? Anybody?" It's Hayden.
"Help!" screams Roland at the top of his lungs. "Help, he's crazy! Come in here and let me out!" But his screams don't make it out of the hold. Connor gets up and makes his way to the entrance. Hayden looks up at him. He's not his usual cool self, and there's a nasty bruise on his forehead, like he was hit by something.
"Thank God! Connor, you've got to get back there! It's nuts—you've gotta stop it—they'll listen to you!"
"What are you talking about?"
"The Admiral killed the Goldens—and then everyone thought he'd killed you. . . ."
"The Admiral didn't kill anybody!"
"Well, try telling them that!"
"Them who?"
"Everybody! They're tearing the place apart!"
Connor sees the far-off smoke, and he takes a quick glance back into the hold, deciding that, for the moment, Roland can wait. He hops down to the ground and races off with Hayden. "Tell me everything, from the beginning."
land
Roland opens the envelope that Hayden has just handed him, and reads the note inside:
I KNOW WHAT YOU DID. I'LL MAKE YOU A DEAL.
MEET ME AT THE FEDEX JET.
The note isn't signed, but it doesn't have to be. Roland knows who sent it. Connor's the only one with nerve enough to blackmail him. The only one stupid enough. The note sets Roland's mind spinning. I know what you did. There are quite a lot of activities Connor could be talking about. He might know that Roland has been sabotaging the generators so he can blame the Admiral for outrageous living conditions. Or he might know about the bottle of ipecac he stole from the infirmary while pretending to flirt with Risa. He was planning to use the stuff to spike the drinks, create a puke-fest, and then blame the Admiral for giving them all food poisoning. Yes, there are plenty of things Connor could have found out about. Roland puts the note in his pocket, showing no emotion, and glares at Hayden. "So you're Connor's messenger boy now?"
"Hey," says Hayden, "I'm Switzerland: neutral as can be, and also good with chocolate."
"Get lost," Roland tells him.
"Already am." And Hayden strolls away.
It burns Roland that he might have to bargain with Connor, but there are worse things. And after all, bargains and subterfuge are a way of life for him. So he heads off toward the FedEx jet, making sure he takes a knife with him—in case there's no deal to be made.
40 Connor
"I'm here," Roland calls from outside the FedEx jet. "What do you want?"