Bringing Down the Mouse
IT WAS TEN MINUTES past four in the afternoon, and Charlie Lewis was running for his life.
His sneakers skidded against pavement as he barreled down the oversize sidewalk. It wound, like a flickering serpent’s tail, between brightly colored storefronts, stone and marble fountains, and manicured hedges. Trickles of sweat streamed down his back. The thick straps of his heavy backpack dug into the skin of his...