"I’m not going to answer that," I said. I’d let them guess whatever they wanted, but wasn’t going to help them figure out we had advanced alien technology that basically let us teleport at will.
"OK, one other question, then. What happens to the others you brought here?"
"They’re criminals. I suspect so, if not all, are murderers. What would you suggest I do with them?"
He raised an eyebrow as if he hadn’t considered it. "A death penalty doesn’t seem appropriate..."
I smiled, "I agree, but neither can I just let them go free."
"If you send them back to El Modelo or soplace like that, they’ll be killed."
"Again, we agree," I conceded, "As it happens, however, I have a particular place in mind. It is one that my people run directly. They will be treated well and receive dical care if needed. There is no outside contact, however, at least at first. Every inmate receives top-of-the-line counseling and therapy to help make them into better people. When our expert therapists consider them no longer a recidivist threat, they are released. Our goal is to prevent cri, not punish people. If you like, I can send you weekly progress reports on each of them. We even plan to hire many of those who have been through our program directly when they get out."
"Can I see the facility?" Maldonado asked while hiding his innocent CIA agent always seeking information facial expression.
I smiled and shook my head, "I’m afraid not. OK, I’ve answered your question. Mr. Maldonado, we’re going to release you to the care of the US Embassy, as I said. I hope that you will read through the docunts, perhaps discuss your situation with Raul Vargas, the CIA operative working there under the na Pablo Rodriguez, who we have reason to believe is not associated with rogue elents in the CIA and figure out how best to address the problems. I need you to go back into the warehouse and tell the others that you are a US citizen, and your governnt has requested you be sent back to the States to face a fair trial. Tell them they will be sent to a safe prison with greatly reduced sentences, good food, and proper dical care. They’ll be treated well, and you’ll be able to follow their progress. All of that is true, so it should be no problem. Does that sound OK to you?"
"I can talk to them, but," he smiled because we both knew his next statent was a lie, "I don’t know anything about the CIA."
"Neither does Raul Vargas," I said, "nevertheless, I trust you two gentlen to get the information to trustworthy people who can do sothing about it. When you get to the part about the two n you accused of corruption, you’ll note that they are now in custody. My custody. I haven’t had the ti to speak to them yet. If you assure that they will be held accountable by your superiors after your house has been cleaned up, I would be happy to release them to your custody or offer them treatnt in our facility. If I see the ti is right, I’ll contact Raul at the embassy to relay the ssage. Now, shall we go back and see what food they managed to scrounge up."
"That sounds good," he answered as he stood. After a second, he reached out to shake my hand.
My hand crashed into his awkwardly before I adjusted it and shook. I wasn’t used to having arms this long, and it took a little getting used to. Maldonado looked at curiously at my display of clumsiness. Then he shrugged and we both went back into the warehouse.
While we were gone, Joe had managed to ’find’ folding tables and chairs, and all the prisoners were seated and were busily tucking into plates full of food. Between bites they were talking and toasting the al and their rescuers with of bottles of Club Colombia Dorado beer. Just one each, we didn’t want things to get out of hand.
When they saw ’Diaz’ return, they toasted him as well. He joined the festivities and they all ate and joked, seeming in good spirits. Joe and Dad made a couple more runs to the ’kitchen’ for more food before they were finished. As the conversations began to wane, I gave ’Diaz’ a look and a nod. He nodded back then stood up.
"Gentlen! Gentlen, can I have your attention, please." He held up his hands and gave them a few seconds to quiet down. They did. "So, I have so news. First, I have a confession. I was in Colombia under false papers, I am actually an Arican citizen from Puerto Rico."
There were jeers from the audience. He laughed and continued, "Anyway, the United States governnt has requested that I be sent back to be tried for my cris."
Now there was booing and a less jovial grumbling. "I am going. I will get a fair trial and wherever they send , it’ll be a hell of a lot better than El Modelo!" He raised his beer and drained the last of it. Those who had any left, which was not many, did the sa.
"So... what about you? I’m told that you will all be given reduced sentences."
The grumbling intensified and so of the n looked around at our n appraising their chances in a fight.
"Wait a minute, wait a minute," ’Diaz’ called out, listen, you know we have so pretty pissed off enemies right now. They not only tried to kill us in the compound but were about to try again in the prison. Do you think they’ll stop if we’re on the streets? Where do you think you can go right now that’s safe? Our money is gone, our friends are dead or in prison in Colombia. What would you do if they just turned you loose in dellin? Try to rob a convenience store for a few bucks, then co back and try again the next day until the police caught you and hauled you back to El Modelo?"
There was still grumbling but it was quieter.
"Instead, you are going to a country club prison. Plenty of good food, oversight from honest guards, and rules about how to treat inmates. It’s a better place than El Chapo got when he built his own prison."
There was laughter now.
"You’ll be out of reach of our enemies. With shortened sentences you’ll be out in no ti, wishing you could get back in just for the als."
Another round of laughter interrupted him.
"You’ll have job training inside, and jobs waiting when you get out. It could be a lot worse. The cartels were wiped out. All of them. Colombia is a ss right now. If you cooperate and accept the deal you’re being offered," Maldonado looked straight in the eye, "the people who took us out of the cave in El Modelo will arrange to have your families brought out of Colombia safely, and they’ll have work and safety here in Guatemala until you’re out."
I nodded a silent agreent to Maldonado, that seed like a good idea. So of the n were talking amongst themselves now. I could see so heads nodding in agreent. So scowled and exchanged glances, then glanced at the guards still standing in a circle around the group, though at a greater distance now.
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