Read Pineapple Grenade for Free Online

food-taster in the forehead.
    “What the hell was that?”
    The chauffeur looked in his side mirror. “I think someone rear-ended us.”
    “Great.” The president’s head fell back against the top of his seat. “Just take care of it.”
    The driver grabbed his door handle. “Be right back . . .”
    . . . A Plymouth Road Runner rolled quietly along the access road.
    “Still don’t see them,” said Coleman.
    Serge pointed at a distant intersection. “There they are.”
    “The light turned green, but they’re not moving,” said Coleman. “And there’s another car behind them.”
    Under Serge’s breath: “Please don’t get out of the car. Please don’t get out of the car. Please don’t—”
    “Look,” said Coleman. “The driver’s getting out of the car.”
    Serge cut his headlights.
    Ahead, the chauffeur walked to the rear of the limo. He glanced at the crumpled bumper, then over at the other vehicle’s two occupants walking toward him, almost featureless in the absence of light, except for respective silhouettes of dreadlocks and a shaved head. The chauffeur opened his wallet and fished for a foreign license. “You guys got ID?” He looked up. The answer came in the muzzle of a MAC-10 between his ribs . . .
    Two blocks back: Coleman hit a joint and strained to see ahead in the darkness. “Doesn’t look like things are going so well for the chauffeur. What do you think will happen?”
    “Someone’s probably going to die.”
    “How do you know?”
    “I just have this uncanny feeling.” Serge shook his head. “It’s such a tragedy.”
    “Do you have this feeling because you’re the one who’s going to kill them?”
    “That’s why it’s such a tragedy. I’m trying to eliminate negative energy from my life.”
    “Look,” said Coleman. “There’s two bad guys this time.”
    “At least that’ll make it more interesting.”
    “How?”
    “Because one will get to see the other go first.” Serge parked on the side of the road. “That’s always a conversation starter.”

Part I

    A Spy Comes in from the Heat

Chapter One

    Three Days Earlier
    A field of tall, dry grass. Brown, hip level.
    The grass rippled through the middle. Could have been wind, but it continued in a narrow, straight line.
    Then serious rustling.
    Whispers.
    “Coleman, stop thrashing around.”
    “I’m trying to, but I can’t see anything.” He crawled on hands and knees. “The grass is too high.”
    “That’s the point.” Serge slid forward with expert stealth. “We’re hunting.”
    “What are we hunting?”
    “I already told you.”
    “Was I fucked up?”
    “You still are.”
    “The streak continues.”
    “Shhhhh! We have to approach downwind in complete silence.” Serge inched ahead. “Coyotes have acute senses.”
    “Coyotes!” Coleman’s head popped up through the grass like a groundhog.
    Serge jerked him back down by the hair.
    “Ow!”
    “Stay low or they’ll see you.”
    “But I hear they bite. I don’t want that.”
    “Not to worry.” Serge resumed his crawl, dragging a zippered bag. “I speak with the animals.”
    “That’s why I don’t understand this hunting business.” Coleman marched on his elbows. “You’re usually so gentle with critters.”
    “Still am.” Serge reached back in the sack. “That’s why I only hunt with a camera.”
    “Now it makes sense,” said Coleman. “Except I wouldn’t think coyotes came within fifty miles of this place.”
    “Neither would most people.” Serge dug through the bag again and removed an airtight foil pouch. “New migratory phenomenon from the state’s exploding development encroaching on their natural habitat—”
    Serge froze with laser focus.
    Coleman peered through the blades of grass. “What is it?”
    “There they are.” He silently raised his camera. “Looks like three or four families. Which is good because in order to survive, they must rip their prey to pieces with coordinated ambushes from