what that group said to her, she noticed the armed guard never flinched when prisoners insulted him. Even the unarmed officers appeared menacing in their black slacks and gray shirts, colors Pilar associated with the likes of Darth Vader. When one unintimidated prisoner spit on the guard’s uniform shoulder, the officer lodged a shotgun butt in the offender’s groin. The injured prisoner tumbled to the ground. The others linked to him crumbled as well. They cursed as they pulled the first man from the top bus stair.
A flash of light drew Pilar’s attention away from the cascading inmates to the gun tower perched on the rooftop just above the sallyport. The ever-vigilant tower officer lifted his M15 automatic rifle and aimed it at the confusedpile of orange bodies. Then, he pointed the rifle into the air just above the human mass and fired a warning shot. The report sliced the air.
Pilar flinched and sought refuge inside the lobby. She leaned against the door, hyperventilating, and damned her faintheartedness. The smirking front desk officer raised the forefinger of his right hand to the side of his head like a salute and asked, “Dr. Brookstone, I presume?”
Pilar regained her composure and faced the officer. She stretched to her full 5’8″ height, back-board straight and snapped, “Yes.” She tossed her hair away from her face and chastised herself for the second time that morning. She should have secured her hair in a clip at the nape of her neck so she’d look professional.
The officer started at the unexpectedly loud response and stated, “You’re expected. The warden is waiting in the auditorium with the other ‘fish’.” His eyes roamed over Pilar’s body.
Pilar recognized the insulting term “fish,” a derogatory expression for someone new. She arched her right eyebrow and checked the officer’s name tag. “You were correct the first time. Call me Doctor Brookstone,” she instructed in a harsh, sarcastic tone, “Officer Leonard.”
The unflustered officer smiled and motioned her through a steel security gate into a small enclosure. “After you, DOCTOR Brookstone.”
Why was it, she wondered, the jerks were always goodlooking? She jumped when the gate struggled to close behind her, and noted the mocking grin on Leonard’s face.
“Put your briefcase down,” he ordered.
Pilar looked in the direction of his nod. She placed her newly purchased calfskin case on a stainless steel table bolted to the wall. A sour liquid stung her throat. She swallowed hard and forced it back down while Officer Leonard rifled through the briefcase like a cop looking for drugs.
“Routine search,” he said. “You’ll get used to it.” His face brightened. He commanded Pilar to spread her legs apart and lift her arms out to her side level with her shoulders. He lowered his eyes to the slit in Pilar’s skirt that exposed the section of her left thigh two inches above the knee.
Pilar glanced at him, wrinkling her face into a disdainful question. Ignoring her, Officer Leonard circled behind Pilar. A heavy scent of Stetson cologne filled the cage. As he completed the shakedown his fingers combed through Pilar’s hair down to the collar of her silk shirt. He pressed the seams and massaged his way across her outstretched arms and then back to her breasts.
Paralyzed, Pilar faced the bars of the gate that shut her away from the outside world as Officer Leonard caressed her breasts and slid his hands along her thighs into her crotch. Pilar’s eyes burned as she strained to keep the tears away. She was too new to know if that was a normal search or one given to all “fish” to put them in their place.
When he finished his exploration of her body, Leonardyelled, “Gate Two.”
An officer, beads of sweat formed on his upper lip, pushed a button. He was seated inside the bubble, a small room to the right of the gates, and screened behind bullet proof glass. He had watched the shakedown and winked at Leonard to
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