It was nearly 24 hours later. They had changed helicopters three times and had waited for hours on end under close watch of the three-guard escort between different prison rides before changing to the small plane they had just left. Now they had changed back to yet another prisoner transport chopper so they could land straight onto Alcatraz Island.

"What's the pilots name?" Elizabeth asked into the heavy headphones she was uncomfortably wearing on the top of her head.

"You were told not to talk," the newest guard said to her in his aging voice through the speaker on his own set of headphones.

Every time they had landed to change from a helicopter to a different helicopter to a plane to yet another helicopter, one of the old guards would stay behind and a new and refreshed guard would join the escort.

"I don't care what I was told to do," Elizabeth shouted back at the new man with a deadly glare of her bright green eyes. "I'm practically dead anyway now. What's the pilots name?"

"My name is Eugene Rodger ma'am," the pilot's somewhat chirpy voice sounded out over the headphones, a tone of amusement was apparent in his voice from the conversation going on between Elizabeth and the new guard. "Ask me anything you like, just don't talk to the guards."

"How old are you?" Elizabeth asked turning her attention to the pilot, the cuffs and chains still restricting most of her movements.

With an almost tinny sounding laugh the pilot shrugged his shoulders and replied, "I lost count after fifty nine."

Elizabeth didn't find the joke half as amusing as the pilot did.

The co-pilot leant in close to the pilot and put his hand over the microphone on his headset as he talked quietly to the pilot in the front seat. But the conversation between them was still picked up on the pilot's headset. "Don't encourage her sir, she's a murderer."

"Nonsense," Eugene replied with a shake of his head and an air of disbelief. "I don't believe what they say that poor woman did for a second."

"Sir, she was convicted in a court for killing her husband and her son," the co-pilot said in a gravely monotonous voice.

"Maybe so, but I still don't believe it, I happen to be one of the believers in the not so 'dark' angel, Mark. The only reason I'm flying her on this chopper now is because the boss man is paying extra to ensure she is delivered safely."

The co-pilot wearily shrugged his shoulders at the man and shook his head in confusion. "Think what you like Eugene, but I believe the truth is always the best way to go and murderers should be locked away for life."

"Glad to know I have at least one follower Eugene," Elizabeth said as the co-pilot leant back into his own seat and played with some buttons on his side of the main console.

"Don't you worry yourself little lady, you have many believers in you, and that lawyer of yours isn't letting anything drop. Don't know if you've been able to read the newspapers lately but he's putting up a good fight for you, they're calling you-"

"The dark angel," Elizabeth interjected before the pilot could finish his sentence. "Yeah I've heard all about that one."

"It's truly a startling picture that made you acquire that infamous name my dear, everyone in the country knows who 'the dark angel' is now if that name is spoken. Have you seen the picture?"

"No I haven't." Looking out the window over the grand city of San Francisco Elizabeth wondered how just a picture, no matter how incredible or startling, could make people believe beyond all reasonable doubt that she is as innocent as she pleads to be.

'Where were these people, these 'believers in the not so dark angel' when I needed a fair jury?' she thought to herself.

"It's truly amazing, you can see the innocence in your eyes screaming out to be free of your oppressors, wanting nothing more than the world to know and understand the truth that you were telling."

"Are you married Eugene?" Elizabeth asked in a quick attempt to change the subject, not really wanting to hear any more about these believers that weren't there when she really needed them.

"Yes I am actually, my wife's about the same age too and is also a part of your fan club Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth fired off another few pointless questions at the friendly pilot only in an attempt to annoy the guards sitting in the back with her and the contemptuous co-pilot. It actually worked better than she could have hoped.

"Are we there yet?" The newest guard butted into their conversation as he turned to look out the giant windscreen that also served as the forward front of the helicopter.

"Yes," the co-pilot interjected almost too quickly, obviously relieved at the chance to finally speak to someone other than a condemned criminal.

They hovered over the huge cement pad and slowly descended onto the Island, it was well known that helicopters didn't usually land on Alcatraz but they had no choice with Elizabeth. 'No risks' she had overheard one of the officers say to another at the beginning of her transportation. There were more guards on the grounds waiting for Elizabeth to get out of the chopper and escort her inside the prison.

"Lean forward," one of the other guards said to her in a blunt voice.

Elizabeth said a quick goodbye to Eugene who replied politely then she leant forward slightly. The guard reached his hands out and took off her headset. As the bulky headphones left her head Elizabeth looked up and lunged forward only just slightly with her teeth bared as if she were going to bite him. The guard pulled back immediately almost dropping the headset and tensed his muscles, all too prepared to hit her hard if he needed to.

"What's the matter? Scared I'm going to hurt you?" Elizabeth whispered to him only just loud enough so he could hear with a glare of malice shining through her eyes. "Don't worry, I don't bite, hard."

"Funny." He took his own headset off and the helicopter landed on the concrete pad. All three guards stood up as high as they could under the low roof of the chopper. "On your feet," the one guard that had been with the transportation the longest yelled above the roar of the helicopter.

Elizabeth stood unsteadily to her feet from the lack of movement the heavy metal chains allowed her to have and she casually let the guards drag her out the door and onto the platform.

She waved a quick goodbye to the pilot, or at least tried to and he nodded back. Elizabeth had gained a few hours' sleep on the plane and felt energetic enough to face almost anything. But whatever sort of high spirits she might have had within her now melted to the floor as she saw the mean looking Alcatraz guards waiting patiently for her.

"Good morning men," the oldest guard said that was tightly holding Elizabeth by her right arm, they had obviously met before.

"Morning Bill," the tallest Alcatraz guard greeted with a brief nod of his head and absolutely no emotion. "Mrs. Elizabeth Oldin I do believe?"

With a deep breath Elizabeth summoned up all the strength she could muster and violently jerked her shoulder forward trying to loosen the grip of steel on her arms but to no avail.

"This is her," the oldest guard replied, pressing his fingers down hard into a well-known pressure point on Elizabeth's arm, making her instantly stop fighting and wince at the pain now shooting through her. "Infamous as we are told she now is, be careful though, she's a feisty one and can take a few good hits before she goes down."

The tall Alcatraz guard nodded with somewhat of an evil smirk only just showing on his face, his short shaved hair made him look as though he possibly should have been one of the convicts within the prison walls. "Thanks for the tip, take that into consideration men," the other two guards standing with him each took one of Elizabeth's arms in their hands as her escort stepped away, the new guards not making any attempt at all to be even slightly gentle.

The escort guards jumped one by one back into the helicopter that almost immediately rose back into the air and drifted forward with a deafening roar of its large blades.

"Right then Mrs. Oldin, there's a Warden inside that's very keen to meet you." The tall guard addressed Elizabeth almost formally before turning around and leading the way to the main cell house.

The two guards dragged her along to the front of the huge building that was beginning to look as though it could use a good coat of paint and perhaps a new garden as they followed closely behind the taller guard and proceeded inside. In the entry was there were a few rooms off to the right and a couple more on the left hand side.

"This is what we call the Sally Port," the tall guard said in a flat monotonous voice as he pulled a small ring of keys off his belt and unlocked the first gate. With a great heave he pushed the gate open then unlocked a second gate just beyond it. Holding it open just enough for the guards escorting Elizabeth to walk through while still keeping their grip tight upon her scrawny little arms.

The guard locked both the heavy gates behind them and checked they were both properly secured before opening the next two gates standing like impenetrable force fields in front of them. Once again they walked together through to the next room.

"Where are we now?" Elizabeth asked quietly to no one in particular as she looked around.

"Main gate, and that," he pointed to the room on her left, "is the visiting room. Not many inmates get many visitors though, this being Alcatraz Island and what not. Most family prefer to forget they have a particular relative if he is locked up in here."

The tall guard with his short dark hair unlocked the last two gates that stood before them with his jingling keys and immediately locked them again once their party was safely through. After waiting for the main guard to lock the doors, together the four of them started down a corridor.

No more than 15 steps later, they turned to into a long hallway. A man was standing about halfway down.

"And this hallway is what we call Broadway, each corridor has a different and distinct name so we can patrol them easier."

As they got closer, Elizabeth started picking the features of the man. Extremely neat dark brown hair that was cut in a military style, not a single hair out of place. This small fact told Elizabeth without a hint of doubt that he was yet another one of those men who cared way too much about what others thought about him and looked at himself in the mirror for probably half the day if not more. He wore a white button up shirt; only the top button was undone and was tucked flawlessly into creaseless black pants. This just heightened the sense Elizabeth got that this man was, for lack of better words that formed in her mind, an arrogant, self-righteous bastard that she was not going to get on with very easily. Elizabeth's eyes fell down to his black shiny shoes that she later found out were prison issue and worn by all the guards.

"Ms. Oldin." They came to a halt in front of the man who spoke with a slight accent and a deadly smirk upon his sharp and striking features. "How nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you and your, what should we call it, killing spree?"

"I prefer rampage," Elizabeth joked without any indication of remorse on her face. "Tell me, are you from the south? You have that; oh what do you call it? Oh of course, you have one of those complete lack of sophistication accents," she said coolly still showing no emotion or remorse.

"I'm Warden McNeill," he continued with a sly smile as though Elizabeth hadn't said anything. "We have a little aphorism that we stick to around here Oldin, treat the others around here with respect, and you will be treated the same." The warden looked his newest prisoner up and down, his dark eyes stripping her bare right there in the hallway.

Every fiber of Elizabeth's being was telling her to do nothing but run as far away as she could from this man while she still could. If she still could. Nothing good would come from her being in this horrible place, especially with this man standing guard over her.

"Such an attractive woman, simply beautiful," McNeill whispered in a deadly tone as he handled the tip of a twisted ringlet of Elizabeth's dark hair. "Such a shame you'll be losing it all." He suddenly cocked his head up to the guards and addressed them in a plain tone, "take her off to the barbers men, make sure she gets her markings also."

"Markings?" Elizabeth asked, a touch of fear in her soft voice and suddenly a look of slight concern showed on her face.

"Where are there the least inmates boys?" McNeill asked the three guards with an almost poisonous smile.

"Michigan Ave," the tall guard with the shaved hair replied with his chest puffed out a little. "A-block sir. Bottom level, I'd say East side."

"Ah, right around the corner from the dungeon cells, excellent. Make it three hours on Michigan Avenue then."

Elizabeth could tell by the toxic tone of his voice and the deadly sneer in his blue-gray eyes alone that Warden McNeill was not going to be a very friendly man at the best of times, especially to her.

"What markings?" Elizabeth asked again more forcefully this time as she struggled against the guards.

"Oh boys," McNeill exclaimed with a menacing laugh that bared is pearly white teeth and a glint of lethal malevolence in his sparkling eyes. "This really is going to be a fun one to tame. I don't think we've seen this sort or feistiness in a good couple of years on this damned rock." He looked Elizabeth up and down with an aggressive sneer again then reached his hand out and grabbed the zip on her prison coveralls and with a sudden flick of his wrist pulled it down to expose the thin and small camisole top that the lock up prison had given her to serve as undergarments.

"Excuse me!" Elizabeth screamed indignantly trying to back off slightly and kick her legs out but immensely failing at both. The two guards holding her arms tightened their grips with laughter and her feet were held down by the shackles still tightly locked around her ankles.

In one frightening movement Warden McNeill stepped forward and grabbed a tight hold of Elizabeth's chin in his strong hand, nearly crushing the bones in her lower jaw.

Elizabeth immediately stopped moving and glared at the Warden menacingly as his blue-gray eyes bored right into her soul.

"Much better," he said in a quiet and deadly voice, completely ignoring the glare of Elizabeth's bright green eyes. "You will probably learn the hard way though, Oldin, and believe me I will have so much fun teaching you the rules around here."

As she continued glaring into his eyes Elizabeth felt his fingers tighten around her jaw. Her breathing increased as the Warden gripped harder and harder until Elizabeth couldn't take it anymore and squeezed her eyes tightly shut in pain and let out the slightest of moans.

"Well, Ms. Oldin," Warden McNeill smiled in satisfaction and let her go. "Welcome to Alcatraz."