Harsh Consequences

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Chapter 17

After the discovery, the Guards questioned Fitzy at length about what he saw, but he stood by The Code. As much as he wanted to put the African inmates in, he told the Guards he didn’t see anyone near the toilet block, prior to finding Mitch.

Fitzy had his own agenda, which to him, would be much better than anything the prison could dish out to the perpetrators for the serious assault on Mitch.

While his good mate recovered in hospital, Fitzy went about making things right, at least in his world, where retribution for any wrong doing must be sought. His eye-for-an-eye philosophy and lack of guilt was how he survived in Afghanistan and Iraq and it was what he still lived by today.

One of the senior Guards at Port Philip knew of Fitzy and his Special Forces background. It came about from their casual discussions shortly after Fitzy arrived at prison.

When Fitzy recognised the Guard shared the same unusual surname to that of an SAS colleague of his, Fitzy asked the Guard if he knew this colleague. The Guard did. Fitzy’s SAS colleague was the Guard’s first cousin.

The Guard also knew his cousin worked in the Special Forces and put together the obvious connection to Fitzy. The Guard asked straight out if Fitzy was in the SAS. Fitzy didn’t lie. He admitted he worked with the cousin, without disclosing anything further.

The Guard seemed to take a liking to Fitzy. Maybe it was because he respected Fitzy’s Special Forces background. Through their regular casual discussions the Guard became aware of the circumstances of Fitzy’s incarceration and he was sympathetic, as most reasonable people would be.

Their relationship moved to a whole new level when this Guard was attacked by two lifer-inmates several months back. Fitzy found out who the attackers were and he offered to help the Guard, to teach the inmates a lesson; maybe even extract a little payback at the same time.

Initially, the Senior Guard was appreciative of Fitzy’s offer, but he was hesitant to participate in any wrong doing.

The same two inmates continued to disrespect the same Guard, presumably because they viewed him as a soft target. On one occasion the inmates threatened to kill the Guard’s family if the Guard didn’t comply with their demands.

This forced the Guard to reconsider Fitzy’s offer. Threats such as those made against one’s family could never be taken lightly. The Guard approached Fitzy in a discreet location and asked if the offer still stood. It did.

Fitzy and the Guard hatched a plan that would involve waiting until the Senior Guard was rostered on evening lock down duty. The Guard left the targeted inmate’s cell doors unlocked during the rounds and Fitzy did the rest. All the Guard had to do was make sure the CCTV cameras were not being monitored.

Both troublesome inmates were discovered the next morning hanging from the top horizontal bar of their cell windows. They had tied strips from a bed sheet around their necks to the top bar then sat back, asphyxiating themselves.

The discovery was found to be a suicide by hanging. Authorities ruled it as a suicide pact, given both inmates were friends inside and both were serving life sentences.

CCTV footage was never checked because both men were safely locked down for the night. No further action was taken. The troublesome inmates were no longer. The Guard’s family was safe and the Guard was indebted to Fitzy.

It was now time for Fitzy to call in his favour chip with the same Guard.

Fitzy worked out there were four he needed to get rid of. To do it all in one night would be too suspicious. He needed to space it out over several days, even weeks, to avoid attracting attention.

The Guard reluctantly assisted Fitzy on the proviso that after this, they were square; no more favours were owed. Fitzy agreed.

While Mitch came out of his induced coma, Fitzy went about seeking revenge on African inmate number one. Such was his thirst for revenge, he was prepared to risk his parole and even his freedom for Mitch.

The following morning, the Guards opening the cells found an African inmate hanging from a bar in his cell window. He had been dead for several hours when discovered. No one suspected anything. However this discovery prompted prison management to review whether the horizontal bars in the cells were a health risk.

One down, three to go.

Four days later Fitzy was at it again. The following morning an African inmate was discovered dead in his bed. He appeared to have suffered a heart attack overnight.

He did, courtesy of the pillow Fitzy shoved in his face until he suffocated. The stress of struggling to breath with over 100 kilos of weight sitting heavy on his chest, with a suffocating pillow shoved in his face, caused the inmate’s heart to give out under the stress.

The unexpected heart attack was a bonus for Fitzy. It assisted with the cover up. Natural causes was the eventual finding.

With the death of two African inmates, Fitzy had to be patient. He allowed time to pass before moving on to the next one.

Ten days later Fitzy was at it again. They found the third African inmate lying naked on the floor of his cell. He had a depressed fracture to the base of his skull. Blood and tissue were located on the corner of his desk.

When he was discovered, the inmate’s shower was wet. There were wet footprints on the floor outside the shower.

The authorities concluded that he must of had wet feet from having a shower. He walked on the concrete cell floor with these wet feet. He slipped, fell back and struck his head on the corner of the desk. The injuries sustained to the base of his skull were fatal. They found that the inmate died from an unfortunate accident.

Fitzy was well aware that the three dead African inmates could arouse suspicion, if a fourth happened to also die in his cell. The coincidence was already too great.

He hatched an idea. The one African inmate remaining worked out regularly in the gym. Fitzy had seen him there often. First, he needed to ask the inmate for assistance, to spot him on the bench press. If he did, Fitzy would offer to return the favour.

It took Fitzy a couple of days of small talk in the gym with the African inmate about muscle groups, weights and fitness in general, to gain the man’s trust.

The inmate agreed to spot Fitzy on his bench press. The man was suitably impressed with the weight Fitzy could lift. Fitzy returned the favour by spotting for the other man. Fitzy offered to train the man so he too could lift much heavier weights. The hook was baited.

Fitzy continued with this charade for a number of days to build trust. To all and sundry Fitzy and the African inmate were friends.

The time had come. Fitzy was sick of the sight of this guy for what he did to Mitch. He convinced the guy to increase his weight to much heavier than he could lift.

‘You need to extend your muscles for them to grow. You’ll be right. I’ll spot you…’ Fitzy reassured.

The inmate gave it a try.

Fitzy instructed the African man to do three full sets of ten. This would cause the man’s arms to fatigue. At the end of the first two sets, Fitzy assisted the man to lift the bar back onto the bench press stand.

At the end of the third and final set, the man struggled around number eight of his ten reps. Fitzy encouraged him to keep going to failure. At number nine he was there—complete failure. The African inmate couldn’t press the bar up from his chest. The man’s arms had fatigued. The lactic acid had kicked in. The bar lay heavily on the man’s chest. He called for assistance.

Fitzy reached over from the rear spotter’s position and took hold of the bar. ‘On three,’ he said to the inmate. ‘One….two…three.’ Fitzy lifted the bar from the man’s chest, while the man pushed up.

While assisting with the lift, Fitzy intentionally let some of the weight remain on the man’s arms as he lifted, to further tire the man’s already spent arms. When the man’s arms were extended straight, Fitzy took the weight of the barbell.

As the man had depleted all strength in his arms, Fitzy timed it so when the man released his grip, he let the barbell drop. Ninety-five kilos of barbell fell straight down from around sixty centimetres, crushing the man’s throat against the bench. He never stood a chance.

Just as he let the barbell drop, Fitzy yelled, ‘Hang on, I haven’t got a grip…Shit.’

He lunged at the barbell, albeit deliberately far too late. He feigned shock as he scurried around to the side of the bench to lift the barbell from the man. He even checked the inmate was OK. Of course, he wasn’t.

Curious inmates rushed over. Fitzy gave his account of what happened to any potential witnesses listening. ‘His arms were weak and he let it go before I could grab it…’ was his story. He had planned it to perfection so any CCTV footage would surely corroborate it.

The former, highly trained Government assassin completed his self-assigned mission. All targets had been accounted for. Pay back had been achieved for his mate, Mitch.

While Fitzy run amok back in their unit block, Mitch was transferred from the secure prison ward at the hospital, back to the hospital ward at the prison.

His recovery was at a stage where he no longer required admission in the public hospital ward. The prison hospital was merely a way to monitor his recovery, before being returned to his cell in general population.

Mitch had no idea Fitzy had taken to seeking justice for the bashing, on his behalf. Had he been aware, he would never have agreed to kill the inmates, but certainly, they needed to be taught a lesson.

The fractures were healing well. The facial swelling had subsided considerably but the tenderness remained. He now wore a crooked nose and three teeth were missing; two central incisors on the top and one central incisor from the bottom. He now spoke with a lisp through the gaps. He hated how the missing teeth made him look and feel.

After resting up for a couple of days a senior prison official visited Mitch in the prison hospital. The prison official was friendly and courteous to Mitch. He seemed genuinely interested in the progress of Mitch’s recovery.

‘I’m glad to hear you are recovering well…’ the official said. ‘One of the reasons I am here is to discuss your options with you…’ he said.


‘Yes. Because you are on remand we want to make sure you remain safe. We offer this to any incarcerated inmate as well. I would like to offer you a transfer into a protection unit, to make sure something like this doesn’t happen again.’

‘A protection unit…?’ Mitch said.

He recalled his discussions with Fitzy about the protection units. Fitzy told him that the people in there are hated by the prisoners in general population. Those housed in protection are the inmates who are too scared, or too weak to defend themselves. Or they are the dogs; the inmates who give evidence to police or prison staff against other inmates. These are considered the lowest form of inmate. Others in protection are the convicted rapists, paedophiles and some murderers.

Regardless of the reason, and because no one knew why they were in there, those in general population despised an inmate in protection. Mitch was aware of this.

‘Are you talking about the area where rapists, paedophiles and police informers are housed?’

‘Well…we are talking about an area where you will be protected from this sort of thing happening to you again, while you are with us.’

‘I understand that. But is it the same protection unit that houses rapists, paedophiles, police informers and inmates who are too weak to defend themselves from threats of violence?’

‘The more vulnerable inmates are also housed there for their own protection...That is correct?’

Mitch’s gaze firmed at the official. ‘I appreciate what you are offering. But I need to know…is it the same unit that houses rapists, paedophiles and police informers? Why can’t you give me a straight answer?’

‘The Protection Unit accommodates all sorts of vulnerable inmates. Those that you mentioned are just some of the inmates who are housed in there, yes.’

‘I would stay there until my court case…Is that what you are offering?’


‘Look…don’t get me wrong. I appreciate what you are offering. I truly do. But let me put this to you…What would happen if I went to court and, heaven forbid…I was convicted and sentenced to time back here? Where would I be put?’

‘That’s hard to say. But unless you had trouble coping…most probably General Population.’

‘And what would happen if word got out that I spent time in the Protection Unit while on remand?’

’Why would ‘word get out’, as you put it?’

Mitch’s mouth straightened. ‘Look. I appreciate your offer,’ Mitch said. ‘But I prefer to return to my original cell, if that is possible.’

The official held an extended gaze on Mitch. ‘That is possible. If that is what you want. As long as you understand I have provided you with a suitable alternative.’

‘Duly noted,’ Mitch said.

‘OK then…I wish you a speedy recovery.’

The official left the ward.

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