To recap: After my mercenary buddy Ron informed me of the likelihood that Logan had hired a hit man (his main two reasons for wanting me dead being the information I had on him and that I surf rings around the asshole), I tried to protect myself by going to the U.S. embassy, where I told a flunky named Flook my cockamamie story, plus The Tico Times — a gutless little rag, as it very soon turned out…

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