While we are talking and analyzing strategies that will allow me to realize my work, other inmates approach the leaders asking for advice and authorizations. They also bring coffee, orange juice, and other satisfactions, especially for Chiquito.

As part of my agreement with the C.V. leaders, early tomorrow, for the first time, I will be in the Devil's Caldron with my camera. For my safety, one of the leaders, usually Paulinho, will always be close to me and will act as my assistant and guide me throughout the penitentiary.

Paulinho, a fanatical member of the organization, is just over 30 years old and is the youngest of the leaders. As a proof of his devotion, he wears around his neck a thick chain which holds a medallion engraved with the initials C.V., all in silver. Paulinho is always smiling, but he is also a man with authority who is respected by all the prisoners. He seems to be glad to be the one who will assist me. I also feel happy that he is the one who will be by my side. However, contrary to what I had planned, the leaders of the Command forbid me to take their pictures.

Night is approaching and after more than two hours gathered in the corner of the patio, we start walking all together. We stroll quickly through the long inside corridor of the dormitory, which will lead us to the main gate.

Although there is no interior illumination, as I enter this passage I see dirty walls scarred with bullet holes and marked with traces of the fires, rebellions, and innumerous fights that have earned this place a historic reputation as one of the most notorious prisons in the world.

The darkness of the corridor falls over us and I can not see my hand in front of me. I identify one small point of light far ahead. This is my only orientation.

I hear our footsteps which mix with the barks and cries of the dogs. Little by little, the corridor gets crowded with prisoners. Their voices come from every side. Shadowy and stinking bodies move themselves around me like lost spirits. Between this confusion of sounds I hear an alarm. It is six o'clock. Suddenly, the place becomes totally quiet. No noise, no movement, everything completely stopped. Paulinho whispers in my ear: "This is a routine silence of five minutes, input by the C.V., so that our friends can reflect on their lives, meditate, pray..."

With all the inmates quiet, the howling and barking of the dogs echoes through the corridor, making the Caldron seem more like a big kennel than a penitentiary. As we approached the exit, one light illuminates the corridor. I see some prisoners crouched with their heads lowered, as if hell had transformed itself into a supplicant kingdom of the sky within the darkness.

The alarm rings again and everything goes back as it was before. I approach the end of the corridor and the late afternoon light brings me tremendous relief. By the exit, however, I notice two men behaving strangely. Secretly, they look at me, look to each other and quickly hide themselves. Something does not seem to be right.

Its twenty past six. According to the warning from Mr. Cantuária, I should have already left the prison. The leaders of the Comando Vermelho don't stop talking. Complain and complain... I tell them that I need to go, but they tell me that I should not worry. I know that, in Brazil, when somebody says 6 o'clock it normally means 7 o'clock. But, under the circumstances that I am in, I should not be assuming any risk.

On the other hand, I am more concerned about the two inmates who I know are waiting for me by the corridor exit. I don't say anything to Paulinho or Chiquito because I do not want them to think that I can be overly worried. I say goodbye to all of them, and as I leave, the two prisoners approach me nervously. They ask for a cigarette. With a smile of relief, I give them not only one cigarette, but my whole pack.