The Territory A Novel - By Tricia Fields Page 0,83

prisoners were taken as planned. These men get erased from the system, and you made a good day’s wages.”

Bloster directed the driver to pull the van to the gym entrance, where a large garage door would open via Maria in the central hub. The van entered, the door was shut again, and the basketball court was secure now for a prisoner exchange. The van turned around and backed up to the only entrance to the jail from the court while Bloster went back around the front. Maria buzzed him in, and he moved directly to the pod of prisoners again. Dooley, who was supposed to get off for supper, grumbled, but he helped Bloster handcuff the first three prisoners.

Dooley asked Bloster, “Does that driver know he’ll be taking rival gang members?”

Bloster looked at him blankly. He felt as if his brain could not process any new information.

“These three are from the Medrano cartel. They were the three that crossed the border to blow this one out of jail.” Dooley turned and pointed to a prison cell behind him, where Gutiérrez stood watching from behind the bars. “I figured they’d send two vans. One for these three, and one for the La Bestia dirtbag behind us.”

Bloster could think of nothing to say. He just knew he needed all four prisoners out of the jail by midnight. “Let’s get these three loaded. We’ll get their hands and feet locked into the bars on the van. They should be safe enough.”

Dooley raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “Whatever.”

Each of the three prisoners’ hands was handcuffed separately to a bar behind their lower backs. Each of their feet was shackled in a similar manner to the floor of the van, and a chain was wrapped around their waists like a belt and attached to another hook behind their backs. Under some circumstances, Bloster would have thought the setup was overkill. Tonight, he thought it was a good idea. Bloster didn’t know what might be in store for the four prisoners, but he suspected Gutiérrez was in trouble.

Back at the cell, Dooley held his nightstick in one hand and the handcuffs in another as Bloster unlocked the cell door. Dooley rocked back on his heels, jutting his large stomach out farther and tapped his nightstick on his palm, letting the handcuffs dangle from his finger.

As the door opened, Gutiérrez moved to the back of his cell, his face stricken. “You can’t take me with them! They’ll kill me!”

Dooley smiled at Bloster. “Get a load a this. This guy thinks it’s okay for him to kill people, but it’s not okay for people to kill him. He didn’t watch Sesame Street when he was little.”

Bloster ignored Dooley and turned Gutiérrez around, twisting his arm in the sling until he cried out in pain. Bloster gritted his teeth and snapped the cuffs on. Finally in enough pain, Gutiérrez submitted to Bloster and Dooley and made the trek to the transport van, walking between the two of them.

The driver was standing at the back of the van, guarding the three prisoners when Bloster opened the side door and pushed Gutiérrez in, locking his hands and feet to the bars. He faced forward, and the three prisoners behind him immediately started with barbs, spoken in Spanish, but the intent was clear. It would be a long ride for all of them.

Bloster had no idea who the driver of the van was or how he had obtained federal papers, but the way Bloster saw it, he was in the clear. If he was questioned by Sheriff Martínez, he would say the feds called him, stating he needed to come into work to take care of the prisoners, the paperwork was in order, and he had followed orders. The whole transaction took less than an hour, and aside from the suitcase of money, it felt like a dozen other transports he had worked over the past few years. He could not believe his luck.

* * *

By eight thirty, Josie had paced around the perimeter of the observation deck a dozen times. There had been no movement toward her house, and Scratchgravel Road was empty. Dell had asked Josie if she’d considered what kind of retaliation she might receive when Medrano discovered the prisoners were released but moved to a maximum-security prison. She had no answer, though she thought of little else.

At 8:45 P.M., Josie noticed a line of four cars on the Mexican side heading westbound toward the access road