🔍 Silver Tongue (Slow Updates) 🔎

Mexican Jails Aren't As Bad As People Claim...They're A Lot Worse

As I watched the prison population walk about inches from my holding cell, I knew I was fucked: spiritually, emotionally and in a few minutes, probably physically too. There were no cops among the general populations as far as I could see, just inmates roaming a prison resembling a city block, with shops manned by the other prisoners. It would be fascinating if I wasn't going to spend the next five to ten years of my life here.

A couple of handsy guards had tossed me in the room with a few other women, groping me as if I could have hidden anything in my bathing suit. It had been a couple of hours, and every few minutes, one of my cellmates had been withdrawn.

I was the last one left.

"Chastity," I hissed. "You guys better have a plan to get me out of here."

Silence greeted me.

"Chastity, answer me!" I growled, wishing I had something to throw, but everything was bolted down.

I was so screwed. Scratch that. Screwed wasn't even the right term for how bad of a situation I was in. Even if Virtue was as great as people claimed, once I entered the general population, I wasn't coming out the same.

Should've just stayed home and watched a Jackie Chan movie. Even a terrible one, like Shanghai Knights.

I slid down the wall and dropped my head in my hands. "Chastity, please..."

Spanish babble concentrated outside the holding cell and I shook. Oddly enough, tears didn't come. I just shook violently.

The cell door squeaked open and a well-dressed man walked inside. He wore a tailored navy-blue suit, and none of the buttons of his dress shirt seemed to function correctly. I scrambled up the wall, wishing I had something to defend myself.

"Did they hurt you Emily?" he asked.

I crept back, putting as much space between him and me as possible. As much as I wanted to believe he was Virtue, my fear had put a sense of clarity into my thinking that I wish I'd had last week.

He adjusted the gold frames of his sunglasses. "Please, do not be alarmed. I am here to help."

"I've had enough help for a lifetime," I said. "What's your codename?"

He furrowed his brow. "Codename. What is that-?"

"Help," I squeaked, ashamed at how my voice failed me. The tears started to flow. The second time it came out stronger. "Help! Guards!"

"Will you calm down, woman? I'm-"

"Help!" I screeched again, drowning out his words.

"Silver Tongue!" He snapped as I took a breath for my next scream.

I bit my tongue and tried to reassess the room. Unless I was going to turn the top half of my swim gear into a noose, there wasn't much I could do. There's no way this guy was my brother and if he thought I was that stupid.

He cleared his throat. "Thank you. I would like to reconnect you to your brother. That is all."

I lined up with the exit, wondering if I could sprint through it before he grabbed me. "I'm supposed to trust you?"

He laughed. "If you're smart, you wouldn't." He ducked further into the room and flourished his hand to the exit. "You're free to go. When you're out, your earpiece will pick up Virtue's signal again." He shrugged. "They're on the way, though, so you're likely to run into them before then. They'll have you out in..." He looked down to his diamond-encrusted gold watch. "...ten minutes or so."

"Why tell me this? Why give up all your leverage?" I inched closer to the door.

"Oh, my love, I haven't," he said. "You came here to find Silver Tongue and I can make that happen in an hour. No more hanging out as bait or flirting with..." he shuddered, "...low-born. Hurry up. This offer expires in..." he looked at his watch again. "...forty-seven seconds."

I took one last look at the open doorway and sprinted through. A cop stood just outside the door, lazily holding an assault rifle in his right hand. When he shoved his left hand at me I shrieked, before I realized he was handing me my purse.

"Thirty seconds."

I turned towards the room. He hadn't chased after me, just like he said. What if he did know where Ivan is?

"Fifteen."

I couldn't believe I was considering this man's offer. What if that man is a human trafficker or worse?

"Ten...nine...eight..." came from the room.

Have you learned nothing, Emily? Abducted by seaplane, trotted out as bait, nearly lost to a Mexican jail and yet, you still are thinking about-.

"Four...three...two..."

"Alright!" I yelled. "I'll go with you."

He emerged from the holding cell, a smug half-smile on his face. "Good to hear," he said. He held out his hand. "Earpiece."

I reached into my ear and pulled it out, ashamed at the amount of wax attached to it. I nearly lost control of my bodily functions in front of this man seconds ago and now I was worried about a bit of wax on an earpiece. It's amazing how your mind can shift gears so easily. It was the least of my worries. Even if I couldn't hear Virtue, the microphone on my tooth would still work.

Hopefully.

Tailored suit inclined his head to his left and a prison guard rushed towards the door with the word salida in glowing red right above it. After a few seconds it popped ajar, opening to a dry, cracked plains. Salida equals exit. Maybe I'd learn a bit of Spanish during this trip after all.

Oh, the irony.

The sun had retreated towards the horizon since I'd last seen it, but there was still plenty of light out. Enough to shimmer across the surface of the black limousine in front of us.

The passenger door opened and a short, stocky man in a black suit jogged to the back and opened the door. Tailored suit, whoever he was, strolled to the car, seemingly unfazed that Virtue were only minutes away from us.

"Where are we going?" I asked, hoping Chastity was listening. "And what's with the black limo?"

"Somewhere private," he said. He looked down at the thin coat of dirt covered his shoes and snarled. "I hate this place."

"You're not from Tampico?" I asked. With his hair slicked to the side and the diamond stud in his ear, he sure looked the part, but I'm into judging books by their covers. Most of the time, anyway. Alright, only sometimes, sheesh, stop judging.

"You're more clever than you give yourself credit," he said, waving his hand to the door. "We'll chat on the way. Ladies, first."

Last chance, Emily. You could still get away now, but once you're in that car, you're only getting out if he wants it.

I ducked inside, hoping Virtue could track me down as I made my second-worst decision of the week.