At the heart of the book are two men living somewhat parallel lives: General Noriega and the Papal Nuncio--a burnt out, disgraced priest who revels in corruption: "He adored the secrecy, the scheming and plotting, the intricate connivings, the hidden meanings that made life in Panama a study in human duplicity." It's an atmosphere Wright captures masterfully--"a country that dines on gossip," the Chorrillo neighborhood where "rotten buildings slumped against one another like a bunch of packing boxes that had been left out in the rain." Moving through various private and public lives, Wright reveals how both men come to fear for their lives in a virtually lawless country where torture is an art form.

Like a superior made-for-TV miniseries, Wright's book brings the past alive in the form of melodrama. Noriega, the acne-scarred, sexually voracious dictator is a truly twisted villain: spooky and pathetic at once. One of the book's greatest scenes happens aboard a yacht, the Macho III, where Noriega and Oliver North are being waited on by a topless stewardess named Chiquita. North delivers the bad news that with his best pal William Casey dead, Noriega may be indicted for drug trafficking. As he talks, the American quaffs carrot juice and eats ribs, wiping sauce from his chin and trying not to ogle the girls. Meanwhile, Noriega tells him, "I think it's a sin to eat the flesh of other animals. Of course, you should enjoy your meal, don't worry about the moral consequences." It's a scene so twisted it made me feel positively patriotic. --Emily White

At the heart of the book are two men living somewhat parallel lives: General Noriega and the Papal Nuncio--a burnt out, disgraced priest who revels in corruption: "He adored the secrecy, the scheming and plotting, the intricate connivings, the hidden meanings that made life in Panama a study in human duplicity." It's an atmosphere Wright captures masterfully--"a country that dines on gossip," the Chorrillo neighborhood where "rotten buildings slumped against one another like a bunch of packing boxes that had been left out in the rain." Moving through various private and public lives, Wright reveals how both men come to fear for their lives in a virtually lawless country where torture is an art form.

Like a superior made-for-TV miniseries, Wright's book brings the past alive in the form of melodrama. Noriega, the acne-scarred, sexually voracious dictator is a truly twisted villain: spooky and pathetic at once. One of the book's greatest scenes happens aboard a yacht, the Macho III, where Noriega and Oliver North are being waited on by a topless stewardess named Chiquita. North delivers the bad news that with his best pal William Casey dead, Noriega may be indicted for drug trafficking. As he talks, the American quaffs carrot juice and eats ribs, wiping sauce from his chin and trying not to ogle the girls. Meanwhile, Noriega tells him, "I think it's a sin to eat the flesh of other animals. Of course, you should enjoy your meal, don't worry about the moral consequences." It's a scene so twisted it made me feel positively patriotic. --Emily White

At the heart of the book are two men living somewhat parallel lives: General Noriega and the Papal Nuncio--a burnt out, disgraced priest who revels in corruption: "He adored the secrecy, the scheming and plotting, the intricate connivings, the hidden meanings that made life in Panama a study in human duplicity." It's an atmosphere Wright captures masterfully--"a country that dines on gossip," the Chorrillo neighborhood where "rotten buildings slumped against one another like a bunch of packing boxes that had been left out in the rain." Moving through various private and public lives, Wright reveals how both men come to fear for their lives in a virtually lawless country where torture is an art form.

Like a superior made-for-TV miniseries, Wright's book brings the past alive in the form of melodrama. Noriega, the acne-scarred, sexually voracious dictator is a truly twisted villain: spooky and pathetic at once. One of the book's greatest scenes happens aboard a yacht, the Macho III, where Noriega and Oliver North are being waited on by a topless stewardess named Chiquita. North delivers the bad news that with his best pal William Casey dead, Noriega may be indicted for drug trafficking. As he talks, the American quaffs carrot juice and eats ribs, wiping sauce from his chin and trying not to ogle the girls. Meanwhile, Noriega tells him, "I think it's a sin to eat the flesh of other animals. Of course, you should enjoy your meal, don't worry about the moral consequences." It's a scene so twisted it made me feel positively patriotic. --Emily White

At the heart of the book are two men living somewhat parallel lives: General Noriega and the Papal Nuncio--a burnt out, disgraced priest who revels in corruption: "He adored the secrecy, the scheming and plotting, the intricate connivings, the hidden meanings that made life in Panama a study in human duplicity." It's an atmosphere Wright captures masterfully--"a country that dines on gossip," the Chorrillo neighborhood where "rotten buildings slumped against one another like a bunch of packing boxes that had been left out in the rain." Moving through various private and public lives, Wright reveals how both men come to fear for their lives in a virtually lawless country where torture is an art form.

Like a superior made-for-TV miniseries, Wright's book brings the past alive in the form of melodrama. Noriega, the acne-scarred, sexually voracious dictator is a truly twisted villain: spooky and pathetic at once. One of the book's greatest scenes happens aboard a yacht, the Macho III, where Noriega and Oliver North are being waited on by a topless stewardess named Chiquita. North delivers the bad news that with his best pal William Casey dead, Noriega may be indicted for drug trafficking. As he talks, the American quaffs carrot juice and eats ribs, wiping sauce from his chin and trying not to ogle the girls. Meanwhile, Noriega tells him, "I think it's a sin to eat the flesh of other animals. Of course, you should enjoy your meal, don't worry about the moral consequences." It's a scene so twisted it made me feel positively patriotic. --Emily White

At the heart of the book are two men living somewhat parallel lives: General Noriega and the Papal Nuncio--a burnt out, disgraced priest who revels in corruption: "He adored the secrecy, the scheming and plotting, the intricate connivings, the hidden meanings that made life in Panama a study in human duplicity." It's an atmosphere Wright captures masterfully--"a country that dines on gossip," the Chorrillo neighborhood where "rotten buildings slumped against one another like a bunch of packing boxes that had been left out in the rain." Moving through various private and public lives, Wright reveals how both men come to fear for their lives in a virtually lawless country where torture is an art form.

Like a superior made-for-TV miniseries, Wright's book brings the past alive in the form of melodrama. Noriega, the acne-scarred, sexually voracious dictator is a truly twisted villain: spooky and pathetic at once. One of the book's greatest scenes happens aboard a yacht, the Macho III, where Noriega and Oliver North are being waited on by a topless stewardess named Chiquita. North delivers the bad news that with his best pal William Casey dead, Noriega may be indicted for drug trafficking. As he talks, the American quaffs carrot juice and eats ribs, wiping sauce from his chin and trying not to ogle the girls. Meanwhile, Noriega tells him, "I think it's a sin to eat the flesh of other animals. Of course, you should enjoy your meal, don't worry about the moral consequences." It's a scene so twisted it made me feel positively patriotic. --Emily White

At the heart of the book are two men living somewhat parallel lives: General Noriega and the Papal Nuncio--a burnt out, disgraced priest who revels in corruption: "He adored the secrecy, the scheming and plotting, the intricate connivings, the hidden meanings that made life in Panama a study in human duplicity." It's an atmosphere Wright captures masterfully--"a country that dines on gossip," the Chorrillo neighborhood where "rotten buildings slumped against one another like a bunch of packing boxes that had been left out in the rain." Moving through various private and public lives, Wright reveals how both men come to fear for their lives in a virtually lawless country where torture is an art form.

Like a superior made-for-TV miniseries, Wright's book brings the past alive in the form of melodrama. Noriega, the acne-scarred, sexually voracious dictator is a truly twisted villain: spooky and pathetic at once. One of the book's greatest scenes happens aboard a yacht, the Macho III, where Noriega and Oliver North are being waited on by a topless stewardess named Chiquita. North delivers the bad news that with his best pal William Casey dead, Noriega may be indicted for drug trafficking. As he talks, the American quaffs carrot juice and eats ribs, wiping sauce from his chin and trying not to ogle the girls. Meanwhile, Noriega tells him, "I think it's a sin to eat the flesh of other animals. Of course, you should enjoy your meal, don't worry about the moral consequences." It's a scene so twisted it made me feel positively patriotic. --Emily White

At the heart of the book are two men living somewhat parallel lives: General Noriega and the Papal Nuncio--a burnt out, disgraced priest who revels in corruption: "He adored the secrecy, the scheming and plotting, the intricate connivings, the hidden meanings that made life in Panama a study in human duplicity." It's an atmosphere Wright captures masterfully--"a country that dines on gossip," the Chorrillo neighborhood where "rotten buildings slumped against one another like a bunch of packing boxes that had been left out in the rain." Moving through various private and public lives, Wright reveals how both men come to fear for their lives in a virtually lawless country where torture is an art form.

Like a superior made-for-TV miniseries, Wright's book brings the past alive in the form of melodrama. Noriega, the acne-scarred, sexually voracious dictator is a truly twisted villain: spooky and pathetic at once. One of the book's greatest scenes happens aboard a yacht, the Macho III, where Noriega and Oliver North are being waited on by a topless stewardess named Chiquita. North delivers the bad news that with his best pal William Casey dead, Noriega may be indicted for drug trafficking. As he talks, the American quaffs carrot juice and eats ribs, wiping sauce from his chin and trying not to ogle the girls. Meanwhile, Noriega tells him, "I think it's a sin to eat the flesh of other animals. Of course, you should enjoy your meal, don't worry about the moral consequences." It's a scene so twisted it made me feel positively patriotic. --Emily White

At the heart of the book are two men living somewhat parallel lives: General Noriega and the Papal Nuncio--a burnt out, disgraced priest who revels in corruption: "He adored the secrecy, the scheming and plotting, the intricate connivings, the hidden meanings that made life in Panama a study in human duplicity." It's an atmosphere Wright captures masterfully--"a country that dines on gossip," the Chorrillo neighborhood where "rotten buildings slumped against one another like a bunch of packing boxes that had been left out in the rain." Moving through various private and public lives, Wright reveals how both men come to fear for their lives in a virtually lawless country where torture is an art form.

Like a superior made-for-TV miniseries, Wright's book brings the past alive in the form of melodrama. Noriega, the acne-scarred, sexually voracious dictator is a truly twisted villain: spooky and pathetic at once. One of the book's greatest scenes happens aboard a yacht, the Macho III, where Noriega and Oliver North are being waited on by a topless stewardess named Chiquita. North delivers the bad news that with his best pal William Casey dead, Noriega may be indicted for drug trafficking. As he talks, the American quaffs carrot juice and eats ribs, wiping sauce from his chin and trying not to ogle the girls. Meanwhile, Noriega tells him, "I think it's a sin to eat the flesh of other animals. Of course, you should enjoy your meal, don't worry about the moral consequences." It's a scene so twisted it made me feel positively patriotic. --Emily White

At the heart of the book are two men living somewhat parallel lives: General Noriega and the Papal Nuncio--a burnt out, disgraced priest who revels in corruption: "He adored the secrecy, the scheming and plotting, the intricate connivings, the hidden meanings that made life in Panama a study in human duplicity." It's an atmosphere Wright captures masterfully--"a country that dines on gossip," the Chorrillo neighborhood where "rotten buildings slumped against one another like a bunch of packing boxes that had been left out in the rain." Moving through various private and public lives, Wright reveals how both men come to fear for their lives in a virtually lawless country where torture is an art form.

Like a superior made-for-TV miniseries, Wright's book brings the past alive in the form of melodrama. Noriega, the acne-scarred, sexually voracious dictator is a truly twisted villain: spooky and pathetic at once. One of the book's greatest scenes happens aboard a yacht, the Macho III, where Noriega and Oliver North are being waited on by a topless stewardess named Chiquita. North delivers the bad news that with his best pal William Casey dead, Noriega may be indicted for drug trafficking. As he talks, the American quaffs carrot juice and eats ribs, wiping sauce from his chin and trying not to ogle the girls. Meanwhile, Noriega tells him, "I think it's a sin to eat the flesh of other animals. Of course, you should enjoy your meal, don't worry about the moral consequences." It's a scene so twisted it made me feel positively patriotic. --Emily White

At the heart of the book are two men living somewhat parallel lives: General Noriega and the Papal Nuncio--a burnt out, disgraced priest who revels in corruption: "He adored the secrecy, the scheming and plotting, the intricate connivings, the hidden meanings that made life in Panama a study in human duplicity." It's an atmosphere Wright captures masterfully--"a country that dines on gossip," the Chorrillo neighborhood where "rotten buildings slumped against one another like a bunch of packing boxes that had been left out in the rain." Moving through various private and public lives, Wright reveals how both men come to fear for their lives in a virtually lawless country where torture is an art form.

Like a superior made-for-TV miniseries, Wright's book brings the past alive in the form of melodrama. Noriega, the acne-scarred, sexually voracious dictator is a truly twisted villain: spooky and pathetic at once. One of the book's greatest scenes happens aboard a yacht, the Macho III, where Noriega and Oliver North are being waited on by a topless stewardess named Chiquita. North delivers the bad news that with his best pal William Casey dead, Noriega may be indicted for drug trafficking. As he talks, the American quaffs carrot juice and eats ribs, wiping sauce from his chin and trying not to ogle the girls. Meanwhile, Noriega tells him, "I think it's a sin to eat the flesh of other animals. Of course, you should enjoy your meal, don't worry about the moral consequences." It's a scene so twisted it made me feel positively patriotic. --Emily White

At the heart of the book are two men living somewhat parallel lives: General Noriega and the Papal Nuncio--a burnt out, disgraced priest who revels in corruption: "He adored the secrecy, the scheming and plotting, the intricate connivings, the hidden meanings that made life in Panama a study in human duplicity." It's an atmosphere Wright captures masterfully--"a country that dines on gossip," the Chorrillo neighborhood where "rotten buildings slumped against one another like a bunch of packing boxes that had been left out in the rain." Moving through various private and public lives, Wright reveals how both men come to fear for their lives in a virtually lawless country where torture is an art form.

Like a superior made-for-TV miniseries, Wright's book brings the past alive in the form of melodrama. Noriega, the acne-scarred, sexually voracious dictator is a truly twisted villain: spooky and pathetic at once. One of the book's greatest scenes happens aboard a yacht, the Macho III, where Noriega and Oliver North are being waited on by a topless stewardess named Chiquita. North delivers the bad news that with his best pal William Casey dead, Noriega may be indicted for drug trafficking. As he talks, the American quaffs carrot juice and eats ribs, wiping sauce from his chin and trying not to ogle the girls. Meanwhile, Noriega tells him, "I think it's a sin to eat the flesh of other animals. Of course, you should enjoy your meal, don't worry about the moral consequences." It's a scene so twisted it made me feel positively patriotic. --Emily White

At the heart of the book are two men living somewhat parallel lives: General Noriega and the Papal Nuncio--a burnt out, disgraced priest who revels in corruption: "He adored the secrecy, the scheming and plotting, the intricate connivings, the hidden meanings that made life in Panama a study in human duplicity." It's an atmosphere Wright captures masterfully--"a country that dines on gossip," the Chorrillo neighborhood where "rotten buildings slumped against one another like a bunch of packing boxes that had been left out in the rain." Moving through various private and public lives, Wright reveals how both men come to fear for their lives in a virtually lawless country where torture is an art form.

Like a superior made-for-TV miniseries, Wright's book brings the past alive in the form of melodrama. Noriega, the acne-scarred, sexually voracious dictator is a truly twisted villain: spooky and pathetic at once. One of the book's greatest scenes happens aboard a yacht, the Macho III, where Noriega and Oliver North are being waited on by a topless stewardess named Chiquita. North delivers the bad news that with his best pal William Casey dead, Noriega may be indicted for drug trafficking. As he talks, the American quaffs carrot juice and eats ribs, wiping sauce from his chin and trying not to ogle the girls. Meanwhile, Noriega tells him, "I think it's a sin to eat the flesh of other animals. Of course, you should enjoy your meal, don't worry about the moral consequences." It's a scene so twisted it made me feel positively patriotic. --Emily White

At the heart of the book are two men living somewhat parallel lives: General Noriega and the Papal Nuncio--a burnt out, disgraced priest who revels in corruption: "He adored the secrecy, the scheming and plotting, the intricate connivings, the hidden meanings that made life in Panama a study in human duplicity." It's an atmosphere Wright captures masterfully--"a country that dines on gossip," the Chorrillo neighborhood where "rotten buildings slumped against one another like a bunch of packing boxes that had been left out in the rain." Moving through various private and public lives, Wright reveals how both men come to fear for their lives in a virtually lawless country where torture is an art form.

Like a superior made-for-TV miniseries, Wright's book brings the past alive in the form of melodrama. Noriega, the acne-scarred, sexually voracious dictator is a truly twisted villain: spooky and pathetic at once. One of the book's greatest scenes happens aboard a yacht, the Macho III, where Noriega and Oliver North are being waited on by a topless stewardess named Chiquita. North delivers the bad news that with his best pal William Casey dead, Noriega may be indicted for drug trafficking. As he talks, the American quaffs carrot juice and eats ribs, wiping sauce from his chin and trying not to ogle the girls. Meanwhile, Noriega tells him, "I think it's a sin to eat the flesh of other animals. Of course, you should enjoy your meal, don't worry about the moral consequences." It's a scene so twisted it made me feel positively patriotic. --Emily White

At the heart of the book are two men living somewhat parallel lives: General Noriega and the Papal Nuncio--a burnt out, disgraced priest who revels in corruption: "He adored the secrecy, the scheming and plotting, the intricate connivings, the hidden meanings that made life in Panama a study in human duplicity." It's an atmosphere Wright captures masterfully--"a country that dines on gossip," the Chorrillo neighborhood where "rotten buildings slumped against one another like a bunch of packing boxes that had been left out in the rain." Moving through various private and public lives, Wright reveals how both men come to fear for their lives in a virtually lawless country where torture is an art form.

Like a superior made-for-TV miniseries, Wright's book brings the past alive in the form of melodrama. Noriega, the acne-scarred, sexually voracious dictator is a truly twisted villain: spooky and pathetic at once. One of the book's greatest scenes happens aboard a yacht, the Macho III, where Noriega and Oliver North are being waited on by a topless stewardess named Chiquita. North delivers the bad news that with his best pal William Casey dead, Noriega may be indicted for drug trafficking. As he talks, the American quaffs carrot juice and eats ribs, wiping sauce from his chin and trying not to ogle the girls. Meanwhile, Noriega tells him, "I think it's a sin to eat the flesh of other animals. Of course, you should enjoy your meal, don't worry about the moral consequences." It's a scene so twisted it made me feel positively patriotic. --Emily White

At the heart of the book are two men living somewhat parallel lives: General Noriega and the Papal Nuncio--a burnt out, disgraced priest who revels in corruption: "He adored the secrecy, the scheming and plotting, the intricate connivings, the hidden meanings that made life in Panama a study in human duplicity." It's an atmosphere Wright captures masterfully--"a country that dines on gossip," the Chorrillo neighborhood where "rotten buildings slumped against one another like a bunch of packing boxes that had been left out in the rain." Moving through various private and public lives, Wright reveals how both men come to fear for their lives in a virtually lawless country where torture is an art form.

Like a superior made-for-TV miniseries, Wright's book brings the past alive in the form of melodrama. Noriega, the acne-scarred, sexually voracious dictator is a truly twisted villain: spooky and pathetic at once. One of the book's greatest scenes happens aboard a yacht, the Macho III, where Noriega and Oliver North are being waited on by a topless stewardess named Chiquita. North delivers the bad news that with his best pal William Casey dead, Noriega may be indicted for drug trafficking. As he talks, the American quaffs carrot juice and eats ribs, wiping sauce from his chin and trying not to ogle the girls. Meanwhile, Noriega tells him, "I think it's a sin to eat the flesh of other animals. Of course, you should enjoy your meal, don't worry about the moral consequences." It's a scene so twisted it made me feel positively patriotic. --Emily White

At the heart of the book are two men living somewhat parallel lives: General Noriega and the Papal Nuncio--a burnt out, disgraced priest who revels in corruption: "He adored the secrecy, the scheming and plotting, the intricate connivings, the hidden meanings that made life in Panama a study in human duplicity." It's an atmosphere Wright captures masterfully--"a country that dines on gossip," the Chorrillo neighborhood where "rotten buildings slumped against one another like a bunch of packing boxes that had been left out in the rain." Moving through various private and public lives, Wright reveals how both men come to fear for their lives in a virtually lawless country where torture is an art form.

Like a superior made-for-TV miniseries, Wright's book brings the past alive in the form of melodrama. Noriega, the acne-scarred, sexually voracious dictator is a truly twisted villain: spooky and pathetic at once. One of the book's greatest scenes happens aboard a yacht, the Macho III, where Noriega and Oliver North are being waited on by a topless stewardess named Chiquita. North delivers the bad news that with his best pal William Casey dead, Noriega may be indicted for drug trafficking. As he talks, the American quaffs carrot juice and eats ribs, wiping sauce from his chin and trying not to ogle the girls. Meanwhile, Noriega tells him, "I think it's a sin to eat the flesh of other animals. Of course, you should enjoy your meal, don't worry about the moral consequences." It's a scene so twisted it made me feel positively patriotic. --Emily White

At the heart of the book are two men living somewhat parallel lives: General Noriega and the Papal Nuncio--a burnt out, disgraced priest who revels in corruption: "He adored the secrecy, the scheming and plotting, the intricate connivings, the hidden meanings that made life in Panama a study in human duplicity." It's an atmosphere Wright captures masterfully--"a country that dines on gossip," the Chorrillo neighborhood where "rotten buildings slumped against one another like a bunch of packing boxes that had been left out in the rain." Moving through various private and public lives, Wright reveals how both men come to fear for their lives in a virtually lawless country where torture is an art form.

Like a superior made-for-TV miniseries, Wright's book brings the past alive in the form of melodrama. Noriega, the acne-scarred, sexually voracious dictator is a truly twisted villain: spooky and pathetic at once. One of the book's greatest scenes happens aboard a yacht, the Macho III, where Noriega and Oliver North are being waited on by a topless stewardess named Chiquita. North delivers the bad news that with his best pal William Casey dead, Noriega may be indicted for drug trafficking. As he talks, the American quaffs carrot juice and eats ribs, wiping sauce from his chin and trying not to ogle the girls. Meanwhile, Noriega tells him, "I think it's a sin to eat the flesh of other animals. Of course, you should enjoy your meal, don't worry about the moral consequences." It's a scene so twisted it made me feel positively patriotic. --Emily White

At the heart of the book are two men living somewhat parallel lives: General Noriega and the Papal Nuncio--a burnt out, disgraced priest who revels in corruption: "He adored the secrecy, the scheming and plotting, the intricate connivings, the hidden meanings that made life in Panama a study in human duplicity." It's an atmosphere Wright captures masterfully--"a country that dines on gossip," the Chorrillo neighborhood where "rotten buildings slumped against one another like a bunch of packing boxes that had been left out in the rain." Moving through various private and public lives, Wright reveals how both men come to fear for their lives in a virtually lawless country where torture is an art form.

Like a superior made-for-TV miniseries, Wright's book brings the past alive in the form of melodrama. Noriega, the acne-scarred, sexually voracious dictator is a truly twisted villain: spooky and pathetic at once. One of the book's greatest scenes happens aboard a yacht, the Macho III, where Noriega and Oliver North are being waited on by a topless stewardess named Chiquita. North delivers the bad news that with his best pal William Casey dead, Noriega may be indicted for drug trafficking. As he talks, the American quaffs carrot juice and eats ribs, wiping sauce from his chin and trying not to ogle the girls. Meanwhile, Noriega tells him, "I think it's a sin to eat the flesh of other animals. Of course, you should enjoy your meal, don't worry about the moral consequences." It's a scene so twisted it made me feel positively patriotic. --Emily White