Chapter 11
Suddenly, I was back at the bar in Tangier. A man was taking down a bottle of vodka from a shelf. There was no longer a face on said bottle. Oh, and the man was decidedly not Omar—one, two, or three. And when he poured me a shot as I stood there at the bar, no smoke billowed forth and the world didn’t suddenly come to an abrupt halt.
I realized I hadn’t been breathing while all this was happening. I realized I should probably start breathing, and so I did. I also realized, with my final wish made, I was back to where I started from. Though, just to be safe, in case all this was a dream, I reached for my wallet.
There was the Rock of Gibraltar on my insurance card. There was the photo of Luke. There was the local equivalent of twenty one-hundred-dollar bills. So no, not a d
