The Big Breach - Index of

The Big Breach; From Top Secret to Maximum SecurityCompliments of http://www.192.comarrival at Brixton jail an hour earlier. Two other newly remandedprisoners were sharing the cell with me. One was an Italian, clutchinga two-day-old Gazzetto dello Sport, who spoke not a word of English andwas bewildered by what was going on around him; the other, his facepuffy, sweaty and cement-grey, sat on his hands and rocked gentlybackwards and forwards, his silence broken only by the occasional gasp.`Yeah you,' the guard indicated to me. `Basildon, that's you, innit?James Bond's brother.' The guard laughed with a hacking smoker's coughat his obscure joke. And so, for the duration of my time in Brixtonjail, I was named after a famous brand of writing paper. `Bring yourbag, and don't try any kung fu, or any other 007 stuff.' I picked upthe small case containing a few extra clothes which my father hadbrought down and followed him down the corridor to start the receptionprocess.My knowledge of prison life was limited to what I'd seen on occasionaltelevision dramas and odd snippets of wisdom from Winston and Shaggy,who had done time for cannabis dealing. I decided that the bestapproach would be to adopt the `grey man' tactic advised to us on SASselection. Stay quiet but attentive, do not speak to anybody unlessspoken to and cooperate quickly with all instructions. Reception tookmost of the day, each stage separated by a long wait in a smoke-filledholding-pen with my fellow new inmates. `Mondays are always busy,'explained one screw as he escorted me through to the search-room,`because of all the drunks and druggies who've been pulled in over theweekend.' In the searchroom there was an airport X-ray machine,photographic equipment and a large rubber mat on which the screwsordered me to stand. `Right, Basildon, your prison number is BX5126,which you'd better memorise right now,' explained the screw, ''cos allyour mail has to have that number on or else it goes straight in thebin.' Like my school number and army number, BX5126 soon becameindelibly ingrained in my memory. `Empty your pockets and that bag onthe table,' he ordered, `then get back on the mat.'My possessions were minutely examined. Wallet, money, credit cards,phone cards, stamps and anything else tradeable were confiscated andrecorded in my personal file. My sponge bag was emptied, the razor wasconfiscated and recorded, but the toothpaste, shampoo and aftershavewent straight in the bin. `We don't know what might be in them. Theycould be full of crack for all we know,' explained the screw. All thefresh fruit my father had brought for me went the same way. `Right,let's have a Fully Monty then,' the screw ordered. My pile of clotheswas passed through the X-ray machine before they allowed me to dressagain. After photographing and finger-printing, the screws escorted meto another holding-pen to await the medical exam.Many prisoners come into jail in poor mental and physical health. Oftenthey are drug addicts and need a methadone fix to ease withdrawal, ormay be suicidal at the start of a long sentence. A medical check isobligatory before they can be assigned to a wing for their own safetyand the safety of the other prisoners.The two officers in the medical centre already knew who I was. `I can'tbelieve they've nicked you,' commented the orderly as he examined myforearms and wrists for injection scars or suicide attempts. `They'vereally shot themselves in the arse putting you in here just for writinga book.' The burly young guard, watching over the examination in casepage- 169 - To purchase the original limited edition hardback version of this bookplease call 08000 192 192 or go to http://www.192.com