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“If I wasn’t meeting someone I’d gladly accept your offer. Maybe another night.”
Rebecca leaned in close and lowered her voice. “Mr. Evers wants you to go to the garden by the pool after you finish your drink. Take the path that leads to the hut bar.”
De
“Maybe we will meet again tomorrow night, yes?” she said loud enough to be heard by anyone who was listening. Then Rebecca walked away, her hips swaying rhythmically in a ma
The temperature was in the eighties, but the air seemed cool in comparison to the 100-plus degree heat that had greeted De
“I’m Evers. Don’t say a word. Just give me the bag and keep moving. Have a drink at the bar then head to the rendezvous.”
De
“Where to, my friend?” he asked with a jovial grin.
“Lafayette Street.”
“Ah, you are looking for fine Batangan women,” the cabbie said with a knowing shake of his head.
“Maybe,” De
“I show you the best bars.”
“Great.”
“You are American?”
“Yes,” De
“Not too many Americans come Batanga way.”
When De
De
“I’ve changed my mind,” De
“That trip more money,” the cabbie said.
“That’s okay.”
The beach had originally been named after Batanga’s first president, but President Baptiste had rechristened it in the name of his boyhood idol. The compound where many of the expatriates lived backed on it. The driver cut through a few side streets before turning onto Baptiste Boulevard, the main road out of the city.
“What kind work you do in America?” the driver asked.
“I write for a magazine.”
“Ah, Penthouse, Playboy, they are good magazines.”
“Actually, it’s a news magazine. We report what’s happening in the world.”
The cabbie shook his head. “That’s a good thing. It is wise to know about the world. Have you come to Batanga to write about our great country?”
“Uh, yes. The American people want very much to learn about Batanga.”
“That’s good. Batangans know much about America. We see the movies. Many gunfights and car chases. Have you ever been in a gunfight or a car chase?”
“That doesn’t really happen. I mean, not often. They just put those in the movies to make them exciting. Most days of the year, it’s pretty boring in America. Americans just get up and work and watch television and go to sleep. There’s not much exciting going on.”
“I would like a television. It would be a good thing to have. They show our great football team on TV.”
The streetlights disappeared a mile past the executive mansion and the only hole in the dark night was created by the cab’s headlights. By the time they were close to the expatriate compound, De
De
“Stop here,” De
The cab stopped and De
“You want me to wait for you?” the driver asked.
“No, thanks. I’ve got a ride back to town.”
De
“So you decided to come along on our little adventure,” he said to De
“I’ve never walked away from a story yet,” De
Charlie started to say something else when he noticed that the taxi had not moved.
“Did you tell him to go back to town?” he asked just as the cabbie stepped out of the taxi with a gun in his hand.
“Down on the ground,” the driver commanded.
“Who…?” De
“On the ground,” the cabbie barked. Charlie dropped to the dirt and De
“Is anyone else here?” the cabbie asked as he sca
“Fuck!” Charlie said as Chauncey Evers appeared, cradling a high-powered rifle outfitted with a night-vision scope.
Evers grabbed De
“Get your shit together,” Evers said, tightening the grip on De
“Turn on the car lights and light the flares,” Evers told Charlie. “We don’t know how close the other bastards are and our ride is on its approach.”
Evers released De
“I’m bleeding.”
“For Christ’s sake, grow up. Do you want to die here?”
De
“Well, you’re going to if you don’t get your ass in gear. There are a series of flares on either side of the runway and we’ve got to get them lit.”
Charlie had already turned on the headlights of the Volkswagen and the Rover. He was lighting his second flare on one side of a narrow dirt airstrip when De