Part 6
Saved?
The second the gun went off seemed to also be the same second that time speed up. But somehow Shawn managed to take it all in.
The bullet from Raphael's gun grazed Shawn's upper arm and went on to catch the first border patrol officer in the forehead. Shawn watched in horror as the man stumbled and fell backwards, dead.
It took half a second for the other officer to realize what had happened and Shawn found his face making quick friends with the steering wheel as the officer's hand at the back of his neck forced him down to meet it.
Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Raphael clamored out of the vehicle and fell to his knees. He was up quickly, waving his gun as he took off running.
The screaming of twenty voices rose to his ears as Angry Border Patrol Man put Shawn in handcuffs through the open window of the van. Three more gunshots rang out from what he could only assume was Raphael's direction before it suddenly fell silent.
Shawn was dragged out of the vehicle by several officers who obviously expected him to struggle more. They dragged him out roughly, the officers causing intense pain with each movement. He didn't have the energy to struggle.
The voices were still shouting, and Shawn realized now that he could save them.
"The back, the back! Open the back!"
He repeated the mantra until one of the officers pulled open the rear doors on the van, exposing the frightened cries of the people hidden there. The officer stood in shock for a minute before finally regaining enough control of himself to take action
"Jake, over here!"
Two officers disappeared into the rear of the van as Shawn was carted towards the nearest security van. He allowed a muffled cry of pain to escape his lips as the officer pushed him against the side of the van. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the officer to open the van door and shove him inside.
It was only when he was finally loaded into the rear of a security van, hands secured to the seat between his legs, did time seem to return to normal. The security man shoved him in the back, the closing of the rear doors bringing complete darkness
He sat in the darkness, his head resting against the cool metal back of the van while he listened to the chaos outside. It took quite a while for things to calm down below the level of loud shouting and screaming. Once things finally calmed down someone got into the passenger's seat. He could feel their glare on the side of his face, but chose not to react to it. A few minutes after that he heard the driver's door of the immigration van open and close before the van pulled away from the border.
They drove for less than five minutes before the van stopped and Shawn was removed from the back of the van. They pushed him roughly across a fenced off yard and through the most menacing metal doors he'd ever seen. It felt as if he would never get to see the light of day again once these doors swallowed him up.
He was taken to an interrogation room and dropped, still handcuffed, into a chair. The officer left him alone again, locking him in the room. If it had been just a few degrees colder Shawn was pretty sure icicles would be hanging from the corner of the vent.
He was left in the cold by himself for well over thirty minutes. He stood and moved to the corner of the room, standing being far less painful to the bruises across his body than sitting in the small metal chair.
Finally a tall balding man entered the room, crossing to the table and dropping a file on the desk that reminded Shawn of "War and Peace".
"Mr. Spencer."
The man leaned against the wall opposite Shawn, beady eyes narrowed at him as he gestured for Shawn to sit back down.
"N-no th-thanks." He was barely able to stutter.
The man scowled and crossed to the table, opening the file to reveal the High School Graduation photo Shawn had taken the year previous, along side the mug shots he'd had done when his father arrested him.
"Let's chat Mr. Spencer."
He gestured to the folder, pulling out the mug shots.
"You miss this Mr. Spencer? Looking forward to going back to this?"
The man pulled out another sheet that was covered with small two inch pictures of every refugee that had been in the van.
"We've got you on sixteen counts of transporting illegal aliens, as well as sixteen counts of conspiracy."
The man slapped the packet with the refugee pictures on top down on the desk.
"Each one of those is punishable by ten years in Federal Prison."
Shawn gulped, his head doing the math before the other man could inform him of the number.
"That's three hundred and twenty years in prison son."
Shit.
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