Okay, I’ll make it easy for you. I’m Pedrito Miraflores!” Smith took the lead. He tilted his head under the fluorescent lights of the secret base, c*****g an eyebrow and showing off his red hair.
“Hey, I’m Pedrito Miraflores!” Pedrito said, outraged.
The black guard looked from one redhead to the other. “We got orders to send only one Pedrito Miraflores to Havana to be shot as a traitor as soon as the gunboat arrives. We can’t send two!”
“Okay, then he’s the real Pedrito,” Pedrito said, pointing.
Smith blinked. “Hah! Only the real Pedrito would think so fast to turn the tables on a situation.”
Both guards scratched their heads. Pedrito scowled, and his shoulders slumped. “All right, you’d better call your comandante,” he said in a flat voice. “We wouldn’t want such an important decisi
