But I didn’t want to work for her. Suddenly I felt trapped. Panicked. My mind sprinting through scenarios. Not Boston but not bloody Mexico, either.

Aye. Maybe there was another way.

What was it that Goosey had said? We could live out in the wilds of Tenerife forever. Fish, eat fruit, maybe escape by boat.

I formulated a tiny, desperate, pathetic plan.

Move fast.

Last thing anyone would be expecting.

Up, run at her, kick her off the chair, grab it, smash it down on that ponytailed skull. Jeremy hears the commotion, comes rushing in, let him have it with the goddamn chair too. Grab his piece, cock it, point it at the guard, put the gun in my pocket, but keep it on him, and get the guard to march me right out of the prison, telling everyone that I was being transferred or released. Walk right out, casual as you please. Take his money, steal a car, go back up into the volcano country. Wait out the search.

In von Humboldt’s book I read that the indigenous people kept going a guerrilla war against the Spanish for over a hundred years. Easy, up there on the mountain fastness. Hunt out a cave, lay low until the heat cooled down, come back into town, find some drunken German tourist, mug him, steal a passport, money, plane ticket, Tenerife to Frankfurt, Frankfurt to New York. Get back to safety in the good old USA.

Not a great plan.

Not even a good one.

But this bitch wasn’t going to threaten me.

“Since you put it that way, I suppose I have no choice,” I said, readying myself.

“Oh, I am pleased. I’m sorry about the coercive aspect of all this, it’s just beastly that Her Majesty’s gov. has to be in the blackmail business, but there it is. Indeed, it couldn’t have worked out better. Jeremy was right, what made you come to Tenerife in the first place, don’t you know it’s notorious for riots and disturbances? Vulgar, awful place,” she said with an amused expression.