“I’m in charge of Altiplano prison, Chapo, and didn’t come here because you asked. Or did you think you ordered me? Remember, the director who preceded me, and helped you escape, is locked in a nearby cell and will doubtless be incarcerated the rest of his life, as will you.”

“Of course, comandante. I’m honored to meet you. I simply want to know why I can’t have my old cell back.”

“Consider yourself fortunate. My sharpshooters are stationed at your infamous bathroom entrance as well as the warehouse exit.”

“All I want is a peaceful life.”

“We guarantee that. Every time you scratch yourself, our motion detectors feel it. Every time you breathe, our elite Chapo Dogs detect no body odor but yours.”

“You have my word as a gentleman. I won’t try to escape again.”

“You’ll sooner be tall than free of this place. We’ve already installed a few hundred new surveillance cameras and plan to add several hundred more. As for your tunneling, don’t bother. We’ve embedded steel rods in all floors where you’ll be.”

“Where will I be, comandante? A man needs to feel at home.”

“You’ve never had a home, scurrying through mountains and tunnels and safe houses that weren’t so safe. Be thankful: here you won’t have to run. We’ll continue moving you to a different cell every day, if not more often, and I won’t decide where you’re going until shortly before the move.”

“Wherever I am, I want my privacy respected.”

“We respected your potty last time. Now we record every sound you make and film every movement. I hope you appreciate the cameras mounted on my helmeted guards.”

“Turn those off when I have visitors.”

“You’re not going to have many visitors, Chapo. We see no need to promote your social life.”

“We’d only discuss making a movie about my life.”

“On the rare occasions we do grant a visitor, he’ll have to pass through two checkpoints and then face two battle-ready tanks.”

“That’s very thorough, comandante. I assume your family is just as well protected.”