On the Run

I was one of the severely unlucky people tied to Bernie Madoff when his empire came crumbling down, and it was made public what a truly, greedy, duplicitous snake he was. Furthermore, I was named as a co-conspirator when he was charged and arrested. Fortunately, I was given some forewarning and I found out that I had been implicated along with Bernie, and that there would also be a warrant out for my arrest. I was quick to the draw, and I made it out of the country before they drug me into Bernie’s mess. I felt like I had a noose around my neck. The thing is, I was absolutely innocent, but Bernie had smeared my name with his, and, the way he had his accountants draw it up, I looked almost as culpable as he did. Well, the first thing I did was flee; I had to get out of town, make strategies with my lawyers, and think about how I would exonerate myself from this ugly, ugly quagmire.
Needless to say, my exit from the country was hasty. I had some wealthy contacts/allies staying in Villamoura, Portugal, and that is where I headed to. My travel agent booked me a room with one of the less ostentatious Algarve hotels, and I was set. Although it looked like the perfect place to holiday, I felt like I was being painted into a corner, and that my freedom-clock was ticking down to doomsday. I was enervated, terrified, and beguiled. I was losing my god-dam’ mind!
Fleeing the country like that made me look guilty, but I couldn’t let myself be framed by Bernie and his goons. What I needed was an exit strategy, and what better way to plan an exit strategy than by exiting from the get-go? I was indignant, but smart enough to jump ship checking out of my Algarve hotel before I would inevitably drown in someone else’s shortcomings, someone else’s crimes. I was immensely fortunate I got out of there when I did.