Well Alice, thank you so much for visiting me.

Of course, I mean, wow, I hate to see you like this. I mean, I've always obviously suspected you're a crook but I mean I never thought you'd be behind bars.

Thank you I guess but do you reckon you could smuggle me any stuff in here?

Do you know what is so hard? You know they search you?

You have to leave everything in the tray but there are ways.

What do you want?

Um, like a photo of me and my wife.

Oh my God, that's so sweet okay. And the cards she wrote me when I was in hospital. I'd like that.

Oh I think my heart just

a kind of black market method.

It can cost hundreds of pounds just to get a note in.

So yeah, I mean, of course I'll do it because they sound really important to you.

Hundreds.

But they mean the world to you, so it's worth it. Yeah, I'm not paying for that. Could you get me a twix?

September 2013 Ancon Doss Prison, Lima, Peru.

Michaela shuffles her feet along the painted line, her hands and ankles cuffed.

To either side of her, she sees a wall of grimy and rough-looking

women packed into cages, dozens to a cell, yelling, jeering. The stench of hot-open latrines hits the back of her throat.

Every breath causes her to wretch.

The block seems to stretch on endlessly.

Then up ahead she spies a gap, an empty cell, an oasis in the chaos.

Michaela takes a step towards it, only to feel the guard yank on her chain dragging her back.

...