Taleverna

The screwdriver waggled a little. Malone wasn't quite sure that the man was breathing. "Fred Mitchell," he said. Mitchell didn't look up. Another second passed. "Hey," Malone said. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Fred," he said in a loud, reasonable-sounding voice, "the State Department's translator has started to talk pig-Latin." Mitchell straightened up as if somebody had jabbed him with a pin. The screwdriver waved wildly in the air for a second, and then pointed at Malone. "That's impossible," …