“Steady, I’m getting there. I just happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. If the local cops run a check on me, they’re going to put me under the jail. Being able to prove I was in Chicago this morning will only make matters worse. ‘What are you doing here, mon?’ I don’t need it.”

His accent was perfect. “It’s a good question,” Merrill said. “What are you doing here? Mon?”

“That’s the problem, I can’t tell them. I came to cash a check. This is where my money is. If they had any idea how much, I’d have to pay off everybody from the Prime Minister on down. What I have to do now is get out of here, and so do you. And I do mean now. When these cops see that taxi driver’s body, you’re going to have to explain exactly what happened, over and over, until they’re satisfied that the rest of the world can see that they didn’t take any shit from America. Then they’re going to make Third World anti-American propaganda out of it – - and you – - because they have a chance to show how tough they are.

“And wait until you see how fast the guys in Washington cut you loose. The taxi driver’s bad luck, if that’s what it was, is all the excuse they need. Meanwhile, whatever is going to happen to your wife will have happened, and you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting that you spend these moments fiddlefarting around instead of listening to me – -”

“I am listening to you!”

Jeremiah O’Malley smiled. “Well, then, Commander, it’s time to beam up.”

“Where?”

O’Malley waved vaguely skyward as he turned for the Lear. “Follow that plane. South America, by the look of it. They’ve got four or five minutes on us, not so far ahead that we can’t lock onto them on the radar. And put that gat away. I’ve got better on board anyway.”

“How do I know you’re not one of them?”

“You don’t. But I’m out of here. Like right now. Adios.”

Merrill took another quick look around. O’Malley was right. If Merrill stayed here for the police, he would definitely wind up behind bars. Hours would pass before the American Ambassador would even find out where Merrill was – - or acknowledge as much. And Amy? O’Malley was more right than he knew. Whatever was happening to her was not waiting. It was happening now. Merrill climbed into the plane and squeezed himself forward, sliding into the co-pilot’s seat, and began struggling into the seat belt.