Jax reeled away from the glass. He pulled his hands into fists even though he knew he was standing behind a bulletproof barrier. He was almost disappointed when he realised the Serpent was after him – he didn’t even merit a glance. The Serpent smashed his bloodied hand into the knock-up, which was a crazy thing for a crazy person to do, then placed his hands on his head and sat on the cell floor.

The alarm was silent but it rang inside Jax’s head all the same. It snapped him back to reality. To the cart. To Cell No. 75. To the meal which was actually a mobile phone. He had to hurry, as the wing could be locked down in moments. He dragged himself away.

Hammad was clothed, cleanly shaved and, thankfully, not bleeding. Jax had been expecting another monster, but the inmate thanked him politely as he pushed the meal that wasn’t a meal through the slot of the final cell door.

The Emergency Unit was storming into Supermax as Jax left. Four of them, wearing gas masks and body armour and moving more like soldiers than prison guards. The man at the head of the line would be the one to crack the cell; the second man would fire in the tear gas.

Jax stood to one side as they whipped past him. The last man in the line brandished a baton behind his shield. Meanwhile a pale man in a white coat waited on the other side of the door, behind a gurney that was armed with an arsenal of restraints. He was shaking.

JAX stared at his ceiling and waited for lights-out. Day done, head on his pillow, his mind was racing.

What was going on?

Jax suspected Clarke was keeping something from him. But he didn’t push him for answers because he knew he wouldn’t get any. Clarke was a very deliberate man, seemingly always in control, and he wasn’t going to tell Jax anything that he didn’t want him to know. Not unless Jax had leverage.

Jax had considered his options during his second meeting with Clarke. Pleading would not work. Neither would reason. His only play was to issue a threat. Jax knew he had leverage. He could deny Clarke his service. Refuse to deliver the final phones. But he also knew that Clarke would know it was a hollow threat.

Whatever was going on, and Jax had several theories, was not good. Every scenario he came up had the same outcome: people dead.

Jax was aware, though, that no matter what the crisis, Clarke’s role was to save lives. Or at least try. And even if Clarke miscalculated and took a quiet threat seriously – almost a zero chance given all the personality profiling – there still wasn’t any great likelihood that Jax would get to the truth.