“How does that happen?” said Mr. Gruenfeld, the morning’s newspaper in hand. “How do they catch someone with 2,300 rare turtles for the illegal pet trade when they’re coming into the country? Don’t you think someone would notice when they were leaving wherever they came from?”

Republic of San Martin, two days earlier

“Excuse me, sir,” said one of the Sanmartinese airport guards. “Your cargo pants seem to be…moving.”

“Oh, that’s just my medical condition. I have something that clears it right up.” The guy proffered a roll of colorful Sanmartinese currency.

“I feel better already,” said the guard. “Have a nice flight.”

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