"Musto?" For a moment, the name meant nothing to Bennington.
"Connecticut, sir, one of the murder and bank cases. Are you prepared to accept delivery of the others?"
"Yes, we are. But we are unfortunately a little short-handed today...."
"We always stay around till the boys are in The Cage, sir," the corporal said.
"Thanks. Start unloading."
Corporal Forester saluted again and turned to face the vans. He waved his arm and another trooper unlocked the door of the trailer to the general's left. A group of men slowly jumped out and stood blinking in the sun.
A trooper opened a large compartment beneath the van and yanked out several large bags, all locked, all bulging, all the type Bennington had known too well since the Second War.
The prisoners' personal effects, Bennington decided, and lifted his megaphone.
"Form a single line facing the gate," he commanded.
There was an excess of shuffling movement, but at last a line was formed.