BooksBarbecue
Back The Third Brother Save as PDF
Chapters (116)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by the Author
  3. The Third Brother
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. PART I
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. PART II
  67. 60
  68. 61
  69. 62
  70. 63
  71. 64
  72. 65
  73. 66
  74. 67
  75. 68
  76. 69
  77. 70
  78. 71
  79. 72
  80. 73
  81. 74
  82. 75
  83. 76
  84. 77
  85. 78
  86. 79
  87. 80
  88. 81
  89. 82
  90. 83
  91. 84
  92. 85
  93. 86
  94. 87
  95. 88
  96. PART III
  97. 89
  98. 90
  99. 91
  100. 92
  101. 93
  102. 94
  103. 95
  104. 96
  105. 97
  106. 98
  107. 99
  108. 100
  109. 101
  110. 102
  111. 103
  112. 104
  113. 105
  114. 106
  115. 107
  116. 108

“. . . and the camera crashes down on top of this glass table-top and shatters right through. So we freeze and every guy in the room has his gun pointed at us . . .” Topknot imitates the sound of a gun cocking. It’s remarkably realistic.

“. . . everyone is dead silent for a second, and then the little general, he just goes, ‘hahahaha,’ and all the rest of them start laughing too, ‘hahaha.’ And we’re looking at each other, laughing our bloody arses off, ‘hahaha,’ and then we all sit down and have beers.”

Mike is thinking how it all sounds like something out of a comic book when a strong finger taps him from behind, not on his shoulder but exactly on the tip of a vertebra. Mike spins.

It’s the leathery bald guy, Harrison. “Do I know you?” he asks.

Mike knows instantly that Harrison has caught him eavesdropping. His heart thuds in his chest and he concentrates on speaking slowly. He introduces himself and explains that he is looking for a reporter with the initials MB. The topknot guy laughs behind him.

Mike turns again and feels his face warming, the last thing he wants, and now the redhead is staring at him, too, and he knows he is blushing.

“Mickey Burton,” Topknot says, “at your service.” He sticks out a hand from his cross-legged seat and cocks his head at Mike. “I was expecting Tommy Bishop.”

“I’m his assistant.”

“Really?” Burton asks. “Hilarious. You better sit down and have a drink. Welcome to the flying circus.”

18

There, sitting around the table, Burton formally introduces Mike to the redhead, Bridget, and the giant, Paul, and again to Harrison. They are all freelance but not broke. Burton rattles off résumés that sound to Mike right out of Kipling, except these are set in East Timor or involve going into the jungle with the death squads or, most recently for Burton, watching a Buddhist temple blow up in southern Thailand—“idol arms flying through the air.”

Burton goes on and on. Bridget is from Sydney and is working on a photo book about endangered animals, how they are poached and smuggled all over Southeast Asia and Africa. Paul recently returned from chasing pirates across the South China Sea and is working on his own book about how modern piracy is a billion-dollar industry. Burton is hypnotic, practiced, and self-deprecating as he describes their exploits, but when he gets to Harrison’s story, Harrison stops him and redirects the talk to Mike.

“What’s your story?” he asks, and Mike is surprised by how interested they all seem. They pay close attention as he explains how Analect sent him with Bishop. It’s as if he were just as compelling as guns in the jungle. It’s kind, Mike thinks, but it’s also spooky.