Pineapple Grenade: A Novel by Tim Dorsey

Author:Tim Dorsey [Dorsey, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General
ISBN: 9780062100733
Google: hhG2p42tTNMC
Amazon: B00BRB15JQ
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2012-01-24T13:15:49.239350+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Meanwhile . . .

Biscayne Boulevard.

Tourists strolled through Bayside Market with name-brand shopping bags. Some lined up for tours of the bay on large ferries, snapping photos of celebrity homes along Star Island. Stallone, Estefan, Shaq, Ricky Martin. Others ate lunch in Bubba Gump’s and Hooters and carried takeout to the neighboring park.

Behind them, rows of colorful international flags flapped in the onshore breeze. A loud din of construction. Workers putting final touches for the Summit of the Americas.

Near the sidewalk, a man in a hat sat on a park bench feeding pigeons.

Scooter Escobar ran across the boulevard. He took a spot on the bench and stared straight ahead. They exchanged newspapers. “You wanted to see me?”

“No,” said the man, code name Raúl.

“Then why’d you set up the meet?”

“You’re the one who called me. Are you still doing coke?”

“Yes.”

Someone took a seat on the other side of Escobar. He smiled. “How are things at the consulate?”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Malcolm Glide, your newest best friend. I hear we’re supposed to exchange newspapers.” Glide set a folded Herald in Escobar’s lap.

Scooter looked back and forth at the two men. “This was a mistake. I have to go.”

He began to stand, but Glide pulled him back down. “Why the rush? It’s a beautiful day. Old and new pals enjoying themselves. That’s what life’s all about.”

Scooter wept in his hands. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Malcolm leaned forward for a view of Raúl. “Is he always like this?”

Raúl shrugged. A pigeon strutted for a piece of bread.

Malcolm put an arm around Escobar’s twitching shoulders. “I’ve heard great things about you.”

“You have?”

Malcolm nodded extra hard. “You’re going to go far. Maybe work for us someday.”

“Really?”

Another emphatic nod. “So when I hear someone as talented and dedicated as you might have a problem, I can’t just stand by and not help.”

“Problem?”

“Raúl filled me in. It’s why you set up this meeting.” Malcolm smiled warmly. “I mean, anyone can accidentally fire a grenade launcher.”

“That’s what I kept telling him,” said Scooter.

“Telling who?”

“My uncle.”

“That’s right, the general. You let me have a little chat with him.” Malcolm held two fingers together. “We’re tight.”

“It’s too late.” Weeping again. “I know they’re going to send me home. They’ve already sent a replacement spy.”

“You mean Serge?”

Scooter’s head sprang up. “So it’s true?”

Malcolm laughed. “Not remotely. Except I do need to talk to you about that. I’m scratching your back, but I have an itch, too. That’s what friends are for. So I want you to go back to the consulate and act like everything’s normal, and find out everything you can about Serge.”

Scooter sniffled and wiped tears off his cheeks. “But I thought your government assigned him to us.”

“Well,” said Malcolm. “Things are a little confusing right now, especially with the assassination plot against Guzman.”

“What!” said Scooter. “Someone’s going to kill our president?”

“Oops, I shouldn’t have mentioned that.” Glide leaned closer and whispered, “Forget you heard anything.”

“No problem.”

Glide released his grip on Scooter’s shoulders. “That’s my boy! . . . Now let’s all get back to work.

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