The Messenger's Redemption (Messenger series #1) [REWRITE]

Chapter 1

Present day
November 18th, 00:00,
Costa Luna Penitentiary

Fifteen years eh?

Logan let a faint trace of a smile appear on his face as he scratched a tally on the wall next to his bunk among other. That would make another ten years to go. That is if he was planning to hang around. He chuckled to himself, going over the mechanisms of his plan. It would get him out of the grounds. Then the real work would begin from there. Once he got away from the prison, he'd have to make a plan to get north.

He had to get home.

Logan shook out his hair with his fingers, the locks starting to fade with age. It has to happen tonight. He wasn't getting any younger and neither was the reason he had to get out of here.

Whenever he thought back to the events that occurred the night of his arrest, he couldn't help but let his face fall into a scowl. The mere memory of that man's betrayal was still freshly carved into the depths in his memory. The man had promised nothing would happen. It was supposed to be his last job for those people.

He was going to be free of his obligation to that man in particular.

"I'm coming for you in particular. You better have kept them safe," he grumbled under his breath.

Logan glared up at the midnight sky before turning his gaze down to the large prison yard he was forced to spend every blistering afternoon in. Yard time was his least favorite of time of day in this place. It was always spent either avoiding other convicts who were more than eager to start a fight with him or simply spent boiling in the hot sun. If there was one thing he certainly wouldn't miss about this place besides the food, horrible stuff it was by the way, it was the yard.

The guards currently patrolling that area blended in nicely with the darkness with their navy blue uniforms. The only things betraying their position were the blinding searchlights from the two guard towers illuminating the dusty ground and the glittering chain-link fence surrounding it.

They can forget him staying in this place much longer. In a few hours, he'd be out of that hell hole and in his way back to Costa Luna.

Back to where his son was. Back to where 'they' were.

He shook his head again. He couldn't let negative thoughts cloud his mind when there was work to be done. It was almost time. He had to do what he needed to.
Logan crossed his tiny cell to the bars, looking around for someone. When he spotted the one he was looking for approaching him, he signalled for the guard to come closer.

The guard grabbed Logan's hand and pushed his arm back inside with a nod before continuing on his way. Logan looked down at his hand before he smirked. He was ready. Time to set things in motion.

Logan felt confident as he returned back to his bunk, sitting on that ineffective thin excuse of a rag they tried to pass off as a blanket. As he leaned against the concrete wall behind him, Logan pulled a wrinkled and fading photograph of him and his family out from under the mattress. He gently stroked the boy in the picture's cheek before he slid the treasure into the chest pocket of his prison uniform.
He settled back against the wall, pulling the blanket over his shoulders. There was nothing better to do for the next couple of hours. He may as well sleep until the next guard shift.

Logan closed his eyes and let his memory take him back to the night he thought he'd lost his family.

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Fifteen years ago
November 16th, 8:15pm,
Rooftop of the Sakura Hotel

They were late. Logan paced up and down the space of the roof. Honestly, that man had said that was they were the ones who set the time for eight. Something about punctuality had come up somewhere in that conversation but he wasn't paying attention. Once that bastard got started, there was no stopping him.