Part 1: The Strip Search
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"This is your captain speaking. I am happy to report an early arrival in historic Puerto Yanez. Please remain seated until we arrive at the gate and the seatbelt light turns off. For those of you visiting, I hope you enjoy your stay. Thanks again flying with us."
I turned to my friend Luke who was sending a text on his phone.
"Did they say if they're picking us up or we need to Uber to the resort?"
"I just asked, they haven't responded yet." He replied.
My name is Jordan Richman and I'm joining a group of friends, mostly from my fraternity, for Spring Break in Puerto Yanez. Luke and I are flying in a day after everyone else because we couldn't manage to all get on the same flight. Honestly, I couldn't be more excited. This is the first Spring Break that most of our friends were able to make the same plans for one reason or another. This semester has been brutal and we can all use some fun for a week where we don't have to worry about classes or who's going to buy all the beer for the next party.
Ding-dong
The seatbelt sign turned off and most of the passengers, including Luke and I unbuckled and stretched our arms and legs. Although we were wearing comfy clothes (I was wearing gym shorts and a t-shirt, and Luke was showing off his huge chest and legs in a muscle tank and chino shorts), the flight was long and we couldn't wait to get off.
"Okay, Miles just got back to me. None of them rented a car so we'll just Uber there." Luke said.
"Alright sounds good."
It took us a few minutes to get off the plane and into the airport. It was beautiful but small and very dated.
"I've gotta take a leak. Can you watch my bags?" Luke said.
"Sure, I'm going to order an Uber to pick us up in a few minutes. Shouldn't take us long to get through customs."
A minute or two later Luke exited the bathroom and we made our way to customs.
"Please have your passport out and ready for inspection. Por favor, tenga su pasaporte a mano y listo para la inspección." A tired sounding customs officer stated loudly in a thick accent.
When we made our way to the front of the line another customs officer motioned for our passports. We handed them to him, he took a few seconds to compare the passport photo to our faces. He then motioned for us to make our way to the X-Ray machine.
I lifted up my carry-on suitcase and backpack and placed them in a large gray bin on the conveyor belt along with my phone, keys, wallet and earbuds. Luke did the same.
I was surprised to see no full-body scanner for us to walk through like most airports. Instead, customs was using hand-held metal detectors which was more than okay with me. I honestly feel like those scanners are huge violation of people's privacy.
A man in his late 20s waved the wand up and down each side of our bodies before saying "you're good to go."
We were catching up on our phone's notifications when I noticed that it was taking a while for our luggage to make its way through the X-Ray machine.
About a minute later an older woman looking at a computer display at the end of the conveyor belt pointed to my luggage and asked who it belonged to.
"It's mine. Is there a problem?" I asked confused.
"Please wait here." She said.
The woman turned away from us and said something into her radio that we couldn't make out.
She opened my backpack, rummaged around one of the side pockets and pulled out a small box of ammunition.
Fuck, I thought. My brother borrowed my bag for a hunting trip last week and I must have completely missed it when packing since I rarely use that pocket.
"All firearms and ammunition are illegal in Puerto Yanez except for use by the police and the military." The customs officer said matter-of-factly."
"I am so so sorry mam. I promise you those aren't mine."
She interrupted me. "So this isn't your bag?"
"Well it is, it's just that I didn't put them there."
"So you're saying someone planted these in your luggage?"
"No, my brother was hunting last weekend and borrowed my - "
"Sir, I'm going to stop you there. This matter is up to the police to settle now. They are on their way."
I started to panic a bit when Luke put his hand on my shoulder.
"Bro, chill you're going to be fine. We'll be partying with the boys on the beach in no time, we just gotta clear this whole thing up." Luke said.
Moments later, 3 police officers turned a corner and started to walk towards us. 2 of them were muscular men and looked like they were in their mid to late twenties. They were each carrying long-guns. The third officer was an older man leading a German Sheppard. He appeared to be the one in charge as he was the only one with insignia on his uniform.
"Gentlemen, please grab your passports and follow me to the secondary inspection area." The man, who I could now identifier as Captain Reyez, motioned for the other two officers to grab the gray bins with our belongings.
Reyez led us across the terminal to near Gate 4. In front of the wall opposite the door to the jetway was a set of 3 frosted glass dividers on wheels like you'd see in an office. They had a gap at the bottom and were only tall enough to reach our shoulders. The 3 dividers were arranged so that you could make out the colors and shape of whatever was behind them from any direction.
Captain Reyez pushed one of the dividers a few feet to the right allowing him and the other 2 officers to place our belongings on a table against the wall.
"You're up first kid." He said pointing to me.
"Officer Sanchez -- please keep an eye on the other one."
Officer Sanchez motioned for Luke to stand on the other side of the divider and me to enter the makeshift inspection area.
Reyez pushed back the divider into its original place, grabbed my passport and looked up at me.
"Am I going to find any more ammunition or weapons in your bag Mr. Richman?"
"No sir."
The other officer, Officer Alva, opened every pocket and zipper in backpack and dumped the contents on the table. I turned my head to face Luke and breathed a sigh of relief when they didn't find anything else.
"Now we will be performing a search of your person."
