A cheap hotel room, a miserable night, and the first poor cup of coffee I’ve had in this São Paulo:

A face stares out at me from the morning newspaper: a smiling boy, perhaps a school photograph, posted under a grim headline

Casualties are mounting in the aftermath of the explosion…

My eyes follow the text, but as I reach the end of the column, I realise I don’t know what it said…

Rodrigo… The hotel boy who served my breakfast each morning. So helpful to the nice cavalheiro inglês who sometimes tipped him, as much for the smile as for good service. He couldn’t have been more than fourteen.

And now dead because some vengeful little bitch missed her target.

I had to grow up quick at that age…

He never will…

Did she miss her target?

Or was it all part of some plan to implicate me?

Lawrence Klempner… Trafficker, murderer, and guilty of a thousand sins, now wanted for terrorism…

?

Who knows? I’m getting beyond guessing how much mayhem Juliana is willing to unleash in her crusade against me.

How did she find me?

She knows I’m here…

She knew where I was…

So… why take so long about showing her hand?

How did she find me?

And when?

As I entered the country?

Three weeks ago…

our Juliana likes

a sense of power

playing cat

customs officer maybe? Who recognised me at

It’s possible.

though. If my face had flagged up any warning signals, ‘the system’ would have

me at Antonio’s? Or trace me back to the bar after

Maybe they all do.

the

That seems more likely.

hoping to spot my quarry… Instead, they spotted me. She knew I’d

all makes

I think…

I’m

Does it add up?

Really?

What’s missing?

into a gang of that

Brazil…

‘Traditional’ values…

to find a woman

often do you ever find women

Behind The Throne’? Find the man at the top and get control of him.

Femme fatale…

Wonder who he is?

Poor bastard…

life-expectancy

who I am… If Juliana has them all reeled in on her quest for

visit to Juliana’s apartment. The coffee’s dreadful stuff, but at least the caffeine hit does its

How many were there?

an uncertain

But smiling, accusing eyes still stare out at me. After a moment, I turn the

What now?

Fade into the background?

Disappear?

How?

get him to fit me

fucking phone

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