He made his move as soon as Jax was gone. Summoned by a guard, the infidel had left the wing. Jax would say it was for another meeting with his lawyer. That is what he had said when Halim had asked yesterday. Halim didn’t believe him, but Bashir did. Bashir also said the phones would be okay. Nothing to worry about.

So Halim’s opinion was worth the same as his money in prison. Nothing.

Halim casually walked down the corridor swinging his toiletry bag. He looked like he was just on his way to the shower room. But then, after checking nobody was looking, he sidestepped through the open door of Jax and Khalil’s cell, then closed it behind him. He couldn’t lock it of course, but nobody would see what he was doing unless they looked through the small window.

Halim went straight for the kettle. Khalil had told him that was where Jax hid his phone. He popped the lid and smiled when he saw the plastic bag in the water. The infidel must be stupid after all, not changing his hiding spot after showing it to Khalil. He unzipped the bag and pulled out the phone after putting the kettle down. He left the charger in the plastic bag, figuring the battery would be full.

He mashed at the tiny keys with his fat fingers.

Beep! Beep!

He jumped when the phone barked, almost throwing it away.

‘Sharmoet,’ he cursed in Arabic. Thank Allah a guard wasn’t walking past the cell. He’d be sent to join Hammad in Supermax if they found him with a phone. He looked down at the glowing green screen once he was certain no one had heard.

He went straight to the infidel’s text messages.

Nothing.

He had either received none or deleted them all.

Suspicious.

He then went to the call log.

Nothing.

He had either received none, made none or deleted all records of calls.

Even more suspicious.

Unfortunately, he would need more than an empty phone log to convince Bashir that Jax was a traitor. Or maybe it was Mahmud he had to convince. Halim wasn’t even sure who the leader was anymore. He would need more than suspicion for either of them to let him slit the infidel’s throat.

So Halim searched the cell, looking under the blankets, the mattress, the bed.

Nothing.

He went through Jax’s box shelves. Just food and toiletries. He looked in his tubs – clothes in the first, legal papers in the other two. After flicking through the printouts – they looked legit to him – he pushed the last tub back onto the shelf.

Nothing.

‘Eire-fik,’ he muttered. And he lashed out, kicking the bottom of the shelves. On hearing a clunk, he looked down. A panel had opened, revealing a cavity. He bent down, and smiled when he saw the stash.