Your Master Requires Your Company · Part 2 (2/3)
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A Fateful Meeting
Green farmland faded into brown brush and finally empty desert. Alisha had a good idea of where they were, based on the infrequent road signs. Not many people lived in this part of the state, since there wasn’t much economic activity. The ground was too dry to farm, so other than a few small mines the area was basically uninhabited. The highway had narrowed to a somewhat poorly maintained two lane strip of asphalt, with nothing but sagebrush and mesquite to either side. Traffic had dwindled to a handful of cars and a few trucks, likely trying to slip around weigh scales. There were no towns, or even overpasses. Looking out the side window Alisha saw an occasional dirt road weaving through the sage, heading off to the nearby hills. Most were overgrown, likely access roads to mines shut down years or decades ago.
She had to admit this was an ideal place for a prison. No neighbors to complain, and anyone walking away had nowhere to go. There was no need for a fence; the desert was a most effective barrier. Not even there yet, and already Alisha was starting to feel depressed. The wisdom of undertaking her secret mission was starting to fray at the edges. Weeks, months living in a place like this? Why didn’t I think this through? She consoled herself with visions of a major book tour, complete with TV interviews.
The car started to slow down. From what she could see out the front windshield there were no buildings anywhere, or even paved side roads. “Is this it? Are we here?” she asked.
“I told you before; I’m not going to answer your questions. What is it with you, some kind of learning disorder?” Again that sharp toned retort came from the woman next to Alisha.
Frustrated, Alisha gave up trying to get any information from her decidedly unfriendly guards. The driver turned off the highway onto a gravel road. What’s going on here? She had an uneasy feeling something wasn’t right. “Okay, it’s obvious this isn’t the road to any state building. I want to know where we’re going, right now!”
Neither her companion nor the driver deigned to answer her demand, even though she was practically shouting. That’s when the enormity of her situation hit home. Alisha could yell and scream, but that was about the limit of her ability to protest. Bound hand and foot in cold steel chains she could offer no physical resistance.
Past a rise they dropped down into a depression in the desert floor. Alisha was surprised to see a rest stop complete with a canopy over a concrete slab with a picnic table. The driver parked the car next to the small building. “We have about fifteen minutes. Do you want to wait outside?”
Alisha immediately agreed but the driver ignored her. “Sure,” the female officer replied. “I need a break.” The driver got out, opened the rear passenger door for his companion, and the two of them went over to the table. Alisha could see them talking but was too far away to hear the conversation. They left her alone in the car.
The woman took out a cell phone and waved it around, holding it high above her head. Looking at the screen she shook her head. Alisha took that to mean no signal, not unusual given the remoteness of the region. The driver came back to the car, glanced in at Alisha, and then went to the rear to open the trunk. When he finished he walked back to the shaded table, carrying some kind of equipment in one hand.
That turned out to be a radio, when he extended the antenna and attached the microphone. She could see him working it, turning a dial, until he suddenly stopped and began talking into the microphone. Again, Alisha couldn’t hear anything, but her guards seemed to be satisfied with the results.
The woman walked over to Alisha and opened her door. “Okay, you didn’t cause us any trouble so I’m going to be nice and tell you what’s going on. I’m sure you’re anxious, since this,” she waved her hand around, “isn’t where you expect to be.”
“Can I stand up?” Alisha asked. It was getting warm inside the car. The cool desert breeze felt good.
“Be patient for a little longer. Here’s what just happened. We have an emergency satellite link in the car. HQ can send us messages if we’re out of radio range, but we can’t send back. That’s what the satellite radio is for, the one on the table. Anyway, this morning a federal court unexpectedly issued an immediate order to reduce the inmate count at several state prisons, including your destination. Legally we can’t deliver you. The state had negotiated a temporary agreement to house you in a neighboring state, at a comparable location. However, we can’t cross state lines. So a van is coming to pick you up, along with at least one other prisoner we know of. They should be here any minute now.”
This wasn’t part of her undercover plan. Should she reveal the real reason she was here, and if she did would they believe her? Probably not, in their place she would laugh at such a feeble attempt. Maybe something could still be salvaged. Better she wait and see what happens.
“As you can imagine, the state Corrections Department is pure chaos at the moment. We have a copy of your basic records; we’ll hand those over along with you. I can’t tell you how long this will last. I’m sure your lawyer will be contacted when your final location is determined.”
It all made sense, to Alisha’s relief. “Thanks for explaining it all. I was worried, but now I understand why we’re here.” She stopped when she heard another vehicle’s tires crunching on the gravel. Turning to look out the back window she saw a white van approaching.
“That’s your ride. C’mon, let’s get you out of the car.”
It felt wonderful when Alisha was finally able to stand up and stretch her legs. The guard held onto her arm while she walked around.
“Okay, this is against regulations but I’m going to trust you. You have a long ride ahead. If I take off the handcuffs for a few minutes you promise not to cause any trouble?”
Alisha agreed, eager to work the stiffness out of her arms and shoulders. Cautiously the officer unlocked her wrists before stepping back. Alisha didn’t miss the furtive motion where she put a hand on what looked like a stun gun attached to her belt.
In a cloud of dust the van parked on the other side of the rest stop building. What was a rest stop doing way out here anyway? The road continued on up into the hills beyond. Maybe there was something of interest up there. Her reporter instincts were always running, looking for the unexplained, pieces that didn’t fit into the puzzle.
But the mysterious road would have to wait for another day. The van’s driver, wearing a uniform not too different from her guards, got out and walked over to the table. Inside the van she could see the silhouettes of another officer in the front seat and a passenger, who must be a fellow prisoner, sitting behind the driver’s seat. There was a Public Safety Department logo on the side of the van, with the seal from a neighboring state.
While the two men talked to each other and on the radio Alisha had the opportunity to get some much needed exercise. She alternated between raising her arms up over her head and spinning them around. All the while her guard followed her, one hand on that device on her belt.
All good things must come to an end. When the van driver waved at them to come forward the handcuffs immediately went back on her wrists. Alisha sighed, resigned to finishing her trip in equally unpleasant surroundings in the van. The other officer in the van got out and came forward. Alisha wasn’t surprised to discover she was female too. There must be some regulation about it; a man to provide the muscle and a woman to avoid any accusation of abuse along the way.
It didn’t take long to exchange one set of restraints for another. When the van driver slid open the side door her fellow passenger nodded in greeting. Once Alisha was seated and secured in place, by seat belt and the leg irons padlocked to the floor, the driver closed the security gate and slid the outer door shut.
Meanwhile the car she arrived in had already disappeared down the gravel road, headed back to the city. While Alisha and her new traveling companion waited, the driver and the other officer in the front seat went over her paperwork.
“Tax evasion?” Robert asked. “Tsk, tsk, gotta render unto Caesar his due. Three years? It must have been a tidy amount. Paula, explain the rules to our guest.”
“Yes, sir.” Paula turned to face the rear compartment.
“This is how it works. You behave, we go easy on you. Act up, we come down hard. Trust me, we have any number of ways to make every minute on the road as miserable as possible. I like order and obedience. Keep that in mind, because if I’m unhappy I guarantee both of you will be much worse off.
“Now, against my better judgment the Sergeant has decided to allow the two of you to talk to each other while we’re on the road. If either of us starts to speak you shut up immediately. I don’t want to hear any arguing, and I am especially irritated when I hear shouting. I hope I made myself clear?”
“I understand.” That was from Cathy, in a meek voice. Paula had her role to play, and she would be fanatical in following her instructions. The implied warning in her little speech wasn’t a bluff. Any ties of friendship ended when the van left the Center.
“I’ll cooperate,” Alisha added.
On The Road Again
The van was back on the highway, headed for…where? The scenario reminded Alisa of one of those Mission: Impossible movies, where something in the carefully contrived plan is disrupted by an unexpected event. No one anticipated a court order forcing her to be reassigned to a different location. Would the Inspector be able to move her team, to keep Alisha safe?
How long did she have to be incarcerated at this new, out of state place? Maybe it really was temporary, and she’d be back in a week with the plan on track again. On the positive side, the gang behind the kidnappings had to adjust their own plans, so if she were to become one of their targets, and the Inspector was positive they’d come for her, the sudden change meant they had to revise whatever plot was in place to grab her.
Alisha watched the barren desert landscape roll by, out the van’s side window. Between the grating of the prisoner cage and the bars across the window it was difficult for her to ignore her own situation, which wasn’t the best. Chained hand and foot like a common criminal, which technically she was, and confined to the back of the van there was no possibility of escape, or even calling off her undercover role. Like it or not, everyone around her saw only the story of the criminal so carefully crafted by the Inspector.
One thing kept nagging at her. Why was the meeting in the middle of the desert, hidden from view from the highway? Maybe it was respect for her privacy, but that seemed like a weak argument. Why not a police station in the next town? That was the logical place, not a deserted shack. And if she was in another state, how was it the people supposedly watching out for her, the Inspector’s trusted team, were able to operate?
“My name’s Cathy,” her traveling companion announced. Alisha turned away from the window to scrutinize her fellow prisoner. Her uniform was similar to Alisha’s though not exactly the same. The handcuffs and transport belt were identical. Based on appearances they were both headed toward the same destination.
“Alisha,” she replied, raising one hand in a wave of greeting. She tilted her head to see how the officers in front would react to a tentative conversation. The driver hadn’t said much; he seemed to be more intent on the road than paying attention to his passengers. The female officer, in front of Alisha, was more worrisome. First impression, she had taken an instant dislike to both Alisha and Cathy.
“They got me for shoplifting. Well, failing to appear, that’s why I’m here. The day I was supposed to show up at the prison I was two states away. Unfortunately I didn’t do my research. I went to a state that still enforces extradition laws, so I’m headed back, just a few days later than scheduled.” That was Cathy’s cover story.
Alisha frowned. Something didn’t sound right. “Shoplifting? I thought that was a misdemeanor, you know, just a fine, maybe a few days community service?”
Cathy shrugged. “Normally you’d be right. Turns out organizing a flash mob to loot a jewelry store is a bit more serious. I thought the cops wouldn’t try to chase anyone down. I was wrong.”
“Tax fraud, I was creative in declaring certain income. The auditors didn’t agree with me.” Like Cathy’s background, it was pure fiction. Alisha did relax a bit upon learning her companion was no psychotic serial killer. If they were both in the “white collar” category, surely whatever corrections facility lay at the end of their trip had to be better than the maximum security horrors so popular in movies.
The two of them passed the time in small talk, about where they lived, their background, mostly the truth on Alisha’s part. Never tell a lie unless absolutely necessary, that had been the Inspector’s advice. With the truth there are fewer worries about consistency. It’s extremely difficult to make up an entire identity and keep to it under questioning.
Cathy was from Los Angeles. Did that imply they were headed back to California? Alisha didn’t pursue it further.
“We’re about to arrive in Las Vegas,” the driver announced. “Sorry, we don’t stop here, so no time out to visit the slot machines. We’ll be taking the beltway around the city, but you can see some of the hotels downtown on the skyline.”
“Thank you, sir.” That was from Cathy. From the way she spoke she struck Alisha as someone who was very deferential to men. Maybe it’s to get him to like her, go easy on her. Alisha wasn’t very talented in that respect.
Alisha had to be content to lean forward to see what she could of the famous Sin City. She’d never been to the local Indian Casino, much less the Mecca for gambling. Cathy asked if she’d ever bet on a blackjack table.
“Nope, I’m what you might call risk averse. I’ve never bet on anything, not even the office Super Bowl pool.” And yet here I am, risking it all with a trip to a real prison and not to visit someone for a story.
It didn’t take long to circle around the outskirts. They crossed over a low pass full of railroad tracks and drove on south. Arizona, we’re not going in the right direction for California. It was another of those small anomalies that were beginning to concern Alisha. Where are they taking me?
They crossed the bridge over the Colorado River. Alisha got a quick look at Hoover Dam before they were once again into featureless desert. The sun was dropping down behind the mountains. The van continued on in the dark.
There was one final stop, when the van drove off the freeway onto an overpass. There were no signs to identify where they were, other than an enigmatic Access Road which told her nothing. The van stopped out of sight of the freeway, at a gate across the road. “Paula, will you help our guests?”
The driver turned to face Alisha and Cathy. “No talking from this point on. You’ve both done well so far, don’t spoil it now. I regret, we must implement an additional security procedure for the last leg of our journey. Be patient; it won’t last too long.”
Alisha had no idea what he meant until Paula opened the side door. There were two canvas bags in her left hand.
Arrival
As soon as the door rolled up Robert backed the van into the garage. The moment he shut off the engine the door began coming down. He waited until it stopped before getting out. Almost done, it’s been a long day. He was tired and a little irritated Cathy wouldn’t be with him tonight.
On Paula’s side Big Mike, wearing a Center uniform, opened her door. When he took hold of her arm she got out of the van. He held open the van door. “Get those clothes off, now! Put them on the seat.”
Paula stripped off her Corrections officer uniform in record time. Robert could see the relief on Paula’s face, now she was back in her preferred environment. When she finished all that remained was the chastity belt, which only Big Mike could remove. He left it on, though he did snap shut Paula’s collar around her neck. Her elation showed in the way she threw her arms around his neck when he took hold of her for a long, passionate embrace, literally lifting her off her feet.
The show of emotion was short-lived. Big Mike dropped her to the floor, slammed shut the van door, spun her around to face it and roughly pulled her arms behind her back. Robert heard the distinctive click of the handcuffs when he secured her. “Stay there, no talking.” Through the van windows Robert could see Paula, standing as rigid as a statue, staring straight ahead. She’d stay that way all night if necessary. Paula would rather collapse from exhaustion than disobey her master.
Robert came around the front of the van to join Big Mike. Using the van keys he unlocked and slid open the side door. Behind the security grill Alisha and Cathy were stirring, still unaware of their surroundings due to the canvas bags over their heads. That was deliberate, both to conceal the location of the Center, and to add to their disorientation. Cathy had been through this more than once, but for Alisha anxiety and uncertainty made it easier to control her.
Big Mike backed up while Robert opened the van’s side door. He unlocked the security grill and swung open the gate to the prisoner compartment. “Olay, ladies, we’ve arrived. Let’s get you out of there.”
He loosened the drawstring on the bag over Alisha’s head. After pulling it off he leaned over her to remove Cathy’s cover too. The order was not random. It was important that Alisha see Cathy receiving the same treatment. Robert counted on Cathy doing her best to set an example.
Free from the seat belt and her ankles no longer chained to the floor, Alisha was able to step down from the van, with Robert’s help. Big Mike took charge of her, with a hand on her arm. The choice of Mike to help him was no accident. He was easily the largest man at the Center, and looked the part. Decades of experience in hard rock mines had left him with a muscular build to go with his imposing height. An intimidating appearance for her escort was crucial in keeping Alisha from panicking.
Cathy came out next and joined Alisha outside the van. “Good, next we’ll take off those transport belts. I can imagine you’re tired of wearing them.” Robert wanted to come across as friendly and helpful, the good cop versus Big Mike’s implied bad cop. What was coming next would be traumatic for Alisha. He started with Cathy, in order to provide an example for Alisha to follow.
Mike knew his part. He took up a position behind Alisha. Robert used a key to unlock the left side handcuff on Cathy’s wrists. He pulled the open cuff through the belt retaining ring. “Face the van,” he ordered.
Behind her Robert quickly brought her arms back and closed the open cuff around her bare wrist. Next he unlocked the transport belt and pulled it from around her waist. He tossed the loose belt back into the open side door of the van. So far so good, he thought. Alisha is watching but she hasn’t said anything.
Alisha didn’t resist when he freed one hand. Knowing what to expect after seeing Cathy she was cooperative and soon was in place next to Cathy. Robert took note of the way she kept staring at Paula. Any minute now she’s going to realize this isn’t any kind of “correction facility”, state run or private.
It All Goes Wrong
Nothing made sense, from the moment she got into the van. Alisha’s suspicions were growing by the minute that she wasn’t where she ought to be. There was a long list of little oddities that began to add up to one big question mark. It was time to start demanding some honest answers.
“What’s going on here? Why is that woman stripped and chained? I thought she was a Corrections Officer? Why were we hooded? Prisons are hardly in secret locations. I want an explanation, now!” She started to step away from the van and turn around to face her captors.
Alisha didn’t get very far with the indignant approach. The giant behind her simply grabbed hold of her arms, lifted her up and planted her back in her original spot facing the van. One of his massive hands planted squarely in her back was sufficient to hold her in place. “Stay where you are,” he growled, in a low, ominous voice. “Don’t speak unless you are given permission.”
The shock of being so easily manhandled had the intended effect on Alisha. She turned her head to see how Cathy was handling their situation. Unlike Alisha, Cathy didn’t seem to be overly concerned. Was that resignation, being pragmatic, or was she simply too stupid to realize the two of them were in serious trouble? Maybe pragmatic was the best explanation. After all, what could either of them do, being chained and in the custody of men twice their size?
“We’re going to walk over to that counter you see in the corner. You’ll be processed there before entering the Center’s Secure Area. There will be an orientation briefing to explain the regulations here. After that you’ll be assigned sleeping quarters and have some supper. Cooperate and you won’t be harmed. Cause trouble and you’ll be punished. That’s how it works here.” That speech was delivered in a gruff tone from the huge guard. If it was supposed to be intimidating it worked.
I don’t have much choice, Alisha told herself. The big guard’s hand was wrapped around her arm in an iron grip. Cathy was in front of her, and that officer, Paula was her name, was on the other side of the man holding onto Alisha.
A chastity belt, that’s what she had on. And she’d worn it all day long during their trip. What was her story? Her apparent unconcern for her surroundings seemed to suggest this wasn’t a one-time event. Instead of staring, the men around her all but ignored Paula, what was that?
It got rough at the counter. It started with Cathy being pushed face down, bent over the counter. Alisha soon joined her. “This isn’t going to be pleasant. We’re going to remove your clothes, with or without your cooperation.” That was the driver, standing behind Cathy. He started with a pair of scissors, methodically slicing through her jail uniform. Cathy tried to twist to one side and then rise up, without success. Within seconds her uniform was gone.
Alisha was next. When the man behind the counter began on her she screamed at him to stop and tried to back away. Her protests were ignored, and the enormous thug behind her proved to be as strong as he looked. He held her down while her dress was reduced to rags. With her hands still bound behind her back there wasn’t much she could do to stop them.
What she could do is keep up a steady stream of yelling, demanding she be allowed to see the prison warden, to complain about her treatment. None of the men seemed to be concerned about her threats. When nothing was left both women were allowed to stand up again.
Alisha glared in defiance at what had been done to her. This was sexual abuse by any legal definition, and she said as much to the man facing her across the counter. “We’re the law in here,” was his enigmatic reply. Al
Your Master Requires Your Company · Part 2 (2/3)
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