Thursday, June 09, 2005

I Won’t Let Them Kill Me For My Diamonds

They’re all around me, hot on my trail. I can’t stay in one place for too long or they’ll find me. I’ve been through too much to give up now.

The fact that my internal organs are precious jewels and not flesh might surprise most people, but they know better. That’s why they want me dead.

But I won’t let them kill me for my diamonds.

I thought I lost them in Rome, but they caught up. Again in Marrakesh. I was all right for a while in Samarkand and, surprisingly, Jakarta.

But it was Paris; that’s where it all went wrong. Waiting for Claudette. I should’ve known better. I should’ve known she was in cahoots with them. Why I went back to Europe, I have no idea.

But how else would I have gotten transport to South America and then to Cuba? Manuel could’ve smuggled me to Miami and then I would’ve been home free. On my native soil it would’ve been so easy to lose them. So easy.

If I can get to Tunis, if I can find Dr. Pappinger, maybe he can find a way to reverse the process, or at the very least extricate the diamonds safely. Maybe then I can use them to pay off those who pursue me.

What am I thinking? They can’t be bribed. They’re single-minded of purpose. And that purpose is kill me and take my diamonds. Why, they'd be reading my thoughts as we speak, were it not for the double layer of tin-foil in which I've wrapped my head.

My only hope is Amsterdam. I will send carrier pigeons from there to contact Dr. Pappinger. He’ll know what to do. He'd better.

If not, I’m a dead man.


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