“What’s going on?” I pleaded. She ignored me and left. A few minutes later, the senior officer who’d presented the charge sheet re-entered the room, translator in tow, both with heads bowed. He said something to her in Spanish, and then she turned to me and said, “Mr. Browder, the Interpol general secretariat in Lyon has just sent us a message. They’ve ordered us to release you. The warrant is invalid.” My spirits soared. My phone buzzed. I stood. “Can I use my phone now?” “Sí.” No translation necessary. I snatched up the charge sheet along with my phones. I had 178 missed calls. There was a
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