Chapter 11
ARGUMENT OVER THE DEADPablo de Silva had had time to recover. The glare, blinding him that fraction of a moment of fright until he had looked away to regain his sight, was still there. So too were the men in black fatigue and black lace up boots. But his heart beat had returned to its regular rhythm. His hands had quit trembling. No longer did he fear Stuart had accidentally stumbled into a dragnet. He now took everything in with calm, detached interest.
The glare ahead, from halogen lamps on tripods either side of the road that cast artificial daylight over a block of nineteenth century white stucco houses with columns at the entrances.
The black clad men, not soldiers, after all, but part of a private security force to keep order, and by their gestures and shouts at him Stu
