Chapter Fourteen
Message in a Bottle
I know I’d hinted that I’d employed clever means to ferret out the Pasha’s secret recipe, but as with most of my representations, that’s not entirely correct. If you keep in mind my propensity for failing upward with ever so little effort, you will be much closer to the truth, before you even know the details.
Dave Crewcut, for lack of his real name, had challenged me to divulge those details, and it surprised me (but only mildly) that my interrogators had not extracted them during the drug-induced confessional, the evidence for which I have only a pinprick and a whopping dose of my usual paranoia.
Or maybe he did have the facts and just wanted me to recite them again when my bloodstream was not coked to the max with truth serum.
When I first set e
