"The man who believes that has got a major crush on Tinkerbell too," scoffed Reverend Jackman. "I told you not to tip Maddas when he brought us to the palace like that. It was an insult. Man's a head of state."
"I always tip cabdrivers, no matter what," Don Cooder returned. "They start wailing on me when I don't."
The drumbeat of footsteps filtered through the rusty iron bars embedded in the heavy oaken door.
"Someone's coming," Reverend Jackman muttered, his eyes going so wide they looked close to dropping from their sockets.
"Do you wanna check, or shall I?" Cooder muttered.
"You're by the door."
"Yeah, but I'm not sure I'm going to like what I see."
In the end, both men went to the bars.
Heads butting, they vied for a good look.
"It's Maddas Hinsein," Jackman hissed when it was his turn.
Don Cooder shoved him aside. His mouth went slack.
"And he's got a whole bunch of guards with him."
"Do they look like the kind who came for us last time?"
"Why?"
"Because if they're here to stand us before a firing squad, I'd kinda like a little advance notice."
"I can't tell," Cooder admitted.
"Why not?"
"I'm afraid to open my eyes," said Don Cooder.
Reverend Jackman pushed Don Cooder aside.
"Looks kinda like an execution squad to me," he said dully.
That opened Don Cooder's eyes. They went sick.
"I guess this is where we separate the men from the boys," he intoned. "I guess this is the end of the line. The final roundup. The last sign-off. The-"
"I'm gonna slap you if you go all hysterical on me," Reverend Jackman warned.
Then the footsteps were right outside the door and both men shrank back from the sound of a brass key grating in a rusty lock.
The ponderous door creaked open, filling the dungeon room with a wavering light from ranked wall torches.
Maddas Hinsein was the first to enter. He entered smiling. Somehow that smile made the blood run in their veins like Freon.
"He's showing his teeth," whispered Don Cooder.
"You think it's a smile?" asked Reverend Jackman.
"Well, he doesn't look all that hungry."
"Okay, he's smiling. Is that good news or bad?"
"Well, I did tip him double, even though we wanted the airport."
Reverend Jackman frowned. "Somehow I don't think that's why he's smiling."
The information minister slipped into the room. He was not smiling. In fact, he looked like a man who had just dodged a locomotive and was trying to regain his nerve.
"I bid you greetings from his excellency President Maddas Hinsein of Irait," the man said in a voice he tried to make portentous, but which came out tinny.
"Ask his most gracious excellency if he will agree to an interview," Don Cooder said quickly. "I can promise him global news coverage."
"Our Precious Leader requests that we both join him in a press conference."
"Press conference? I'm not good at those. A two-shot would be better. You savvy two-shot? One on one?"
"Our Precious Leader wishes that you both inform the world of his miraculous escape from a foolish assassination attempt."
"Glad to," said Reverend Jackman, stepping forward. "Just point the way. I'm ready."
"Who invited you?" snarled Don Cooder, stepping between the reverend and the president.
Reverend Jackman pointed toward Maddas Hinsein, who although he did not understand English, seemed to be enjoying the sight of their bickering with immense relish.
"He did," said Reverend Jackman. "You got a complaint, take it up with my main man there."
Don Cooder did, although indirectly. "Could you ask his most royal highness why he's holding his press conference?" he inquired of the information minister.
"Our Precious Leader begs to inform you that you will assist him in announcing his ultimatum to the infidel occupation forces in Hamidi Arabia," the information minister explained.
"Why do you need us?" blurted Reverend Jackman.
The question was conveyed to Maddas Hinsein in Arabic.
Upon receiving the answer, the information minister turned as pale as a burnoose. He was so flustered he made his protest in English, which his president did not understand.
"But, Precious Leader," he said, "how can you offer him the post of information minister? I am your loyal information minister."
"No way I'm settling for information minister," Reverend Jackman said indignantly. "It's the vice-presidency or nothing."