Carlos was a little irked. While he'd hoped that she would have gone the way of the rooftop, using stealth and speed to get through the prison, he really knew that she'd want to take the direct approach. She had a reputation for wanton violence, for intimidation and incredible resilience. Quite simply put, when she wanted something, even if it was just to bust a few heads, she did it. It wasn't a question of if one should, or even could. You simply couldn't tell the woman something was impossible. She just out and did it.

-or at least, so the stories said.

Carlos nodded, trying to conceal the fear in his eyes, covering his insecurity with an adjustment of his purple beanie, the colour of the Third Street Saints. Bowing down low he grasped a ring of keys off the belt of the guard he'd taken out an tossed them in his new boss' direction. After all, when she returned to Stilwater she was going to put the gang back together. Which reminded him, he really should tell her about the state of the Saints at some point, that they had been disbanded. He didn't want to cause her to break stride however so that was going to have to wait.