She’d seen them all before. In the Grenada airport, just after the attack. The vibe was uncanny. The same people—only instead of Yanks and Europeans and South Americans, these were Japanese, Koreans, Southeast Asians. The same mix though—seedy-looking techies, and hustlers with vacant money-eyes, and nasty-looking bullshit artists in wrinkled tropical suits. That same jittery, verminous look of people native to the woodwork and very unhappy outside of it ...