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Book Description Penguin Group U. Dust Jacket Condition: New. Military Fiction. New book, new dust jacket.
Badge of Honor
First edition, first printing. Seller Inventory Putnam's Sons , Seller Inventory XM Never used!. Seller Inventory P Book Description Penguin, Each dust jacket is protected in an acid-free archival quality acetate cover. Book Description Condition: New. Seller Inventory S Looks like an interesting title!.
Griffin; William E. Griffin ; William E. Publisher: Putnam Adult , This specific ISBN edition is currently not available. View all copies of this ISBN edition:. Synopsis About this title The dramatic new novel in the Philadelphia police saga by the 1 New York Times —bestselling author.
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Taemi and I had just started talking when another inmate walked by with a piece of paper clipped to his chest. I only caught a quick glance out of the corner of my eye, so I had no idea what it was and paid it no mind. After all, it takes an incredible amount of concentration to maintain a phone conversation in B-House, where I lived.
Often the man on the phone next to you would be begging whoever was on the other end of the line to put a little cash on his books for ramen noodles and coffee. Meanwhile at least one abusive bastard was berating some poor insecure woman, calling her every name in the book. The worst distractions came from those waiting in line. They showed no regard for the people already on the phone; they yelled at each other, made crude jokes, and argued over the most trivial things, like which celebrities are richer. In prison, guys know absolutely everything about absolutely nothing and will stop at nothing to convince everyone else of it.
I did notice some inmates pointing at the dude with the piece of paper on his chest, and getting a little animated. But Taemi was already in rare form, telling me what a horrible person I was for the hundredth time, so my attention was on her flattering commentary.
A few minutes later, the guy passed by again. This included guys with learning disabilities as well as young men, still boys really, with behavioral problems, or who never graduated high school. It created quite an interesting social dynamic.
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Sometimes the atmosphere was closer to a youth asylum than a prison, explosive with braggadocio. The man with the piece of paper was a prime example. Every other word out of his mouth was about beating this or robbing that or some new and improved way to sell dope. He made another pass by the phone line and this time, he threw up his hands like Muhammad Ali after knocking down Frazier, and went skipping along like a gangster-cheerleader leading the Wave.
This drew an even more spirited reaction. A couple guys looked disgusted, but only a couple. A few near the end of the line were furious, throwing up what I assume were gang signs with their fingers. The spectacle obviously got me even more curious to see what this dude had going on that was causing such a commotion.
The next time he came around, I turned in time to see what was on the paper. Clipped onto the front of his shirt was a full-page color photo of a young man shot in the face, lying dead in the street. The photographed man had been shot in his face and chest and was propped up at a slight angle in the gutter behind a parked car. His eyes were open; he appeared to be staring at something just outside the frame.
The young man in the picture was his victim.
Now here he was, bragging about his charge, strutting around with this photograph clipped to his chest like a badge of honor. The scene by the phone line was surreal. Some offenders actually cheered him on. There were even older men encouraging his behavior. Younger guys, totally hooked on the street life, gazed at him with awe. You could see they almost instantly idolized him.