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prison. He will kill people. He will bribe people. He will kidnap family members of cops and prison guards. Even Your Honor’s own family isn’t safe, Judge.
    â€œFurthermore, I think it’s possible that Caesar may try to free Tito when he’s being transported from the federal lockup to your court for the arraignment or during the arraignment itself, and Marshal Walker may not be able to stop him.”
    â€œHorseshit,” Walker said, but Davis ignored him.
    â€œI think Tito should be arraigned inside his cell at the Metropolitan Correctional Center, and I believe he should be arraigned as soon as possible. Like immediately after this meeting.”
    â€œThis is absurd,” Prescott muttered.
    â€œI also believe federal marshals should be assigned to protect Your Honor, Your Honor’s family, the federal prosecutor, and the federal prosecutor’s family until after the arraignment. Now, I realize that you might decide to release Mr. Olivera on bail . . .”
    There wasn’t a person in the room, including Tito’s lawyer, who believed that Tito would be released on bail.
    â€œ. . . and if he is, I can’t do anything about that. But if Mr. Olivera is remanded, I believe he should be placed in some facility that can literally fight off an army. I think if Tito is allowed to remain in the Metropolitan Correctional Center until his trial, the citizens of San Diego will be in grave danger and Caesar Olivera will eventually free his brother.”
    â€œMy people can protect the citizens of San Diego,” John Hernández said.
    â€œJohn, how many cops do you have?” Before Hernández could answer, Davis said, “You have less than twenty-seven hundred people in your department and a third of those people are administrators, desk jockeys, and lab rats. Caesar Olivera could double the number of street cops you have with Mexican and California gangbangers. He’ll pay them whatever they ask, and he’ll arm them better than your police force.”
    â€œWhat’s your point, Mr. Davis?” the judge asked.
    â€œMy point, Your Honor, is that with Caesar Olivera you might see something you’ve never seen before in this country: a group of thugs armed as well as U.S. Army soldiers, with no regard for human life, mounting an attack against the Metropolitan Correctional Center, blasting their way inside, and killing every correctional officer in the place to free Tito Olivera.”
    Before John Hernández or the MCC warden could object again, Judge Foreman said, “So what do you propose, Mr. Davis?”
    â€œI propose that Tito Olivera be placed in the brig at Camp Pendleton until his trial and that his trial be held at Camp Pendleton as well.”
    Camp Pendleton, as every person in the room knew, was a Marine Corps base forty miles north of San Diego that covered one hundred and twenty-five thousand acres. It had a population of more than one hundred thousand people, of which forty thousand were active-duty marines. Camp Pendleton was the headquarters of the First Marine Division and the elite First Marine Expeditionary Force; there were M1 Abrams tanks and Cobra helicopters there. In other words, it was a place with considerably more manpower and firepower than the Metropolitan Correctional Center, and the marines were not overweight jailers armed with batons.
    â€œI object, Your Honor!” Lincoln Prescott shrieked. The other attendees all responded with some variation of
You gotta be shittin’ me!
    The meeting went on for another five minutes, Lincoln Prescott making a pointless speech about the rights of the accused, the warden of the Metropolitan Correctional Center voicing his umbrage about accusations that his officers couldn’t keep criminals incarcerated in his jail, and the chief of police once again challenging Davis’s “outlandish assumptions” about what Caesar Olivera might do. The only one