26
My stomach sinks.
Jolly Green Giant opens the door,
yanks me out by my leather coat collar, tosses me to the ground. He yanks the
map from my hand, like it’s a common road map purchased at the gas station for
five bucks.
“That map is priceless, pal,” I declare.
“You might want to treat it with some tender loving care.”
Soleimani steps over to me, bends down
at the knees, back hands me across the face. Now I’m getting pissed off. He
reaches into my coat, relieves me of my .45. Then he reaches into the satchel,
steals the Book of Truths. He also pulls out the art book, but then,
seeing that it’s useless for his purposes, tosses it to the ground.
“You will speak only when spoken
to,” he orders.
He stands while Andrea slips out of
the Defender, goes to Putin, kisses him on
