by Karen Harper
He walked across the street. Nick could not name the make of the squat black car that sat in the entry on the other side of the closed gate. They all waited nervously as Heck studied the sign and the car. Gina went over and stood next to him. When they came back, Heck said, “A Russian name, a Russian company, a Russian-made car, a Lada. No way we can ask to look inside.”
Gina said, “Some fine old places in this area are being bought by foreign investors who cozy up to—to you-know-who. I think these places once government offices, so it saved them. My roommate Francesca has a special friend like that. He’s rich, from Hong Kong, investing here and other places in the Caribbean. I think most of these people paying the Castros.” Again, though no one but them was visible on the street, she lowered her voice when she said anything about the Castros.
But when her words sank in, Nick jerked alert. “Her special friend is from Hong Kong? Not American?”
“Oh, there a few of those here too, but not legal unless they make good deals with—with you-know-who. There are getting to be more foreign fish in the sea here, like my father says.”
Lexi piped up. “Are we ’lowed to talk about that bad man that took me? He had a house like this with a fountain. And lots of fish swimming inside tanks that ate other fish, but Lily wasn’t afraid of them.”
Claire tugged Lexi away and leaned down to whisper something to her. It hit Nick hard that this could well be the area where Ames would put down roots in Havana. If he could just find out if and where he was in this El Vedado area, he could somehow let Patterson know where to find the bastard, not that the FBI or the marines guarding Guantanamo could swoop in to arrest and deport him.
Nick whispered to Heck, “There has to be a way to learn who is here and where, and I don’t mean Castro.” When Gina came closer again, Nick went on, “Berto, someday, maybe if the US relaxes the embargo and relationships get better, you can come back, visit the place. But we don’t need to be dealing with the Russians that run that business right now.”
“And meanwhile,” Heck said, “we got more important things to do. We shouldn’t be concentrating on getting into someplace, but getting out.”
* * *
Though Claire felt exhausted, she talked Gina out of taking the shortcut through the cemetery again to get back to her student housing. Claire knew she needed to have a firm, private talk with Lexi soon. If it was some comfort to her to have an imaginary friend for a while, perhaps there was nothing wrong with that. But the child seemed not only disturbed but defiant, and that wasn’t like her. Claire had psyched out her own daughter before when times were tough, but not under such daunting circumstances.
She let Nita take Lexi up into Gina’s building with her and Bronco, while she, Nick and Jace hung back by the ruined swimming pool for a quick conference.
Jace, with a pointed look at Claire, said, “I understand longing for old times and people loved and lost. But I hope Heck has his anger about wanting his family’s property back out of his system.”
Claire was grateful Nick decided to ignore that. Or had Jace not meant anything personal by it? Was she the one seeing trouble behind every tree, every house, every tomb?
Nick said only, “Let’s clear out of here, get a taxi to the airport, then one to the hotel. I’m going to follow Patterson’s emergency plan for covert contact. Too bad it has to come from a Havana hotel and not Heck’s laptop in Northern Michigan.”
“We have no choice but to trust Patterson,” Jace agreed. “But the thing is, WITSEC deals in deception, so how do we know he’s really working for Uncle Sam and not your phony ‘uncle’ Clayton Ames?”
Claire put in, “And how do we even know we can trust Gina? I’m reading her that we can, but how ambitious is she? And did she mean it when she said that she’d like to go to the States, except for the fact it would kill her parents? Well, she didn’t mean it like that. I’m even worrying about Lexi. She has to be my first concern, despite the way you men handle things.”
They stopped talking when a strikingly beautiful girl, a bleached blonde, no less, overly made up, more or less slithered down the back stairs and sashayed past them. She ignored Claire but batted her long lashes and smiled at Jace, then Nick. Her skirt was short and looked painted on her ripe body. How she managed such high heels on the broken terrazzo walk was amazing, Claire thought.
She found her voice as the woman disappeared onto the street. “That’s a student living here?”
They’d evidently stayed behind too long, because Gina came down the stairs looking for them with Heck right behind her as if he were her bodyguard now.
“Did you see my former friend Francesca?” Gina asked them, propping her hands on her hips. “Oh, yes, I see by the look on the men’s faces you did. She said she’s moving out for good, right now, didn’t want any of her things. I can sell some, but that means more money for rent every month from the rest of us, and none of us can afford it.”
“She’s not a student, then, is she?” Claire asked, trying to keep the edge from her voice. Why did she always feel she was conducting a forensic psychology interview on this woman for some sort of crime? She hated not being able to trust the person who probably held their safety in her hands.
“Well—she started out that way,” Gina admitted with a shrug. “Before she met her so-called special friend at a paladore—a private restaurant—where she was working at night. Now she good as spitting on her former friends. Truth is, she what is called a jinetera. You see them up where the foreigners go, even on the streets. She did not start out that way, but took her chance.”
Heck said, “But jinetera means a female jockey. She rides horses? That woman?”
Gina frowned and shook her head. “Called that because the foreign men with money—well, you see, she ride them, in more ways than one.”
“A prostitute?” Heck demanded.
“Yes, but not like—not like a whore. Jineteras, they choose real careful, stick with only one man. It’s different here, Berto,” Gina insisted, her voice rising too. “She stay faithful, he buy her nice presents, visit her family. If he’s a rich foreigner, he might take her to his country, like Francesca says she going. That’s why she doesn’t want her stuff. I know one got married.”
Heck swore under his breath and grabbed her arm to spin her slightly toward him. “You never did that, did you? You said you want to go with me. I’m not rich. You don’t think that—”
“Caramba!” she spit out, breaking his hold on her. “You think that, you never speak to me again. I want to be a doctor, help people, trying to help you, all of you. I do not trade myself for anything, even going with you out of here, so—”
Breaking into a sob, she rushed inside with Heck right behind her.
“Oh, great. Just great,” Jace muttered. “This whole gamble could be screwed up by a woman, but it wouldn’t be the first time.” He gave Claire a pointed look.
“I suppose,” Claire put in with a sharp voice, “you never realized that Eve only ate the apple and listened to the serpent in the garden because Adam was too busy somewhere else.”
“Meaning I was gone for my pilot career a lot? You were the one keeping secrets about your narcolepsy.”
“If you had paid more attention, then—”
“Stop it,” Nick demanded. “Both of you, stop it. If we don’t get our act together, you’ll have plenty of time to be mad at each other and me while we rot in a Cuban prison. Now let’s get inside and calm things down. We need to get to the Hotel Nacional in Old Havana, and I need to get on what we can pray is a secure internet connection. We’re all strung out, including Lexi, so let’s shape up here.”
“Yes,” Claire said. “Sorry I came with baggage, Nick,” she said with a glare at Jace. “Speaking of which, let’s get up there and practice pretending those small, scuffed-up suitcases are full of clothes for a lovel
y Havana vacation.”
“Right,” Jace said. “Honest, I was trained better than losing it under pressure in the service and in the pilot’s seat. I—we—just snapped.”
“Then let’s go in,” Nick said. “Onward and upward—or else.”
6
Jace thought the main building of the International Airport nine miles south of Havana looked like a winged bird of prey waiting to take flight. He wished they could take flight themselves, that he could be at the controls to get them out of here. Despite the fact their plane crash had not been his fault, he had been in the pilot’s seat. Guilt sat heavy on his heart while he and Heck went inside to check the arrival boards in case they were asked about their flight times at the hotel. As he watched planes take off and land, he yearned for the bustle of an airport. Trouble was, he yearned for Claire too when she wasn’t his anymore.
For a while, he’d convinced himself that he’d moved on. Moved on in his career, moved on to Singapore, where he’d spent some downtime at the other end of his Pacific flights. Seeing that knockout woman back at Gina’s student housing had reminded him of the brief affair he’d had there—and made him feel guilty all over again.
But now, being with Claire, seeing her with Nick but wanting to protect her—to have her again—really hit him hard. He had to keep his head in all this, help to get them the hell out of here, but he kept thinking about him and Claire, how fast they’d fallen for each other, how intense it had been, how—
“Okay, everybody, listen up.” Nick’s voice sliced through his agonizing when they rejoined everyone outside the airport between taxi rides. “Remember, we’re Americans, but we’ve flown in from Toronto, Canada. I have our passports if we need them. We’ll have to hire two taxis again, but we’ll be sure the drivers know to keep us together. Hotel Nacional, here we come, and, hopefully, not for a long stay. Meggie, Gina says they have a big swimming pool there.”
“That’s right,” Gina put in, evidently wanting to boost Lexi’s pouty attitude. “And lots of nice music right there at the pool too. Guitars, bongo drums, maracas—a happy salsa beat.”
“Lily likes songs with bad words,” Lexi insisted, crossing her arms over her chest.
Claire said, “Gina doesn’t need to hear about Lily, so can you just keep her a secret?”
“Well, she’s going swimming with us!” Lexi said so vehemently that even passing strangers looked at her. Jace saw Nick bite his lip, but what did he know about handling Lexi? Claire looked like she was going to cry, but she was a psychologist, so she’d better figure this out with her—their—kid. If it was up to him, he’d just tell Lexi enough of that nonsense right now or else. But around here in what might as well be a galaxy far away, what did “or else” mean?
* * *
“What a place!” Bronco said, looking up at the massive hotel when he’d seldom said much since their plane crash. Nick had seen that Nita kind of herded the big guy around, explaining things to him when she could, translating quietly now and then. He only hoped Bronco’s protective instincts were on alert since he was obviously overwhelmed by culture shock. Well, weren’t they all? Nick was really worried about Lexi, but he had to take care of business first.
The Hotel Nacional, they learned at the desk when Nick checked them in using their new passports, had nearly five hundred rooms. Gina had told them it used to be “the place” for Americans before the revolution, but it was now also a major foreign business center in Havana. That not only comforted Nick, since he wanted to get online fast, but it scared him. Who knew if Clayton Ames or his lackeys might be here on business and spot them?
Gina had also told them that the hotel had once become a ghost town, but had been rebuilt in the 1990s with billions of dollars of foreign money. No wonder the cost of a top-floor suite had been outrageous, but they needed room for the seven of them. Gina wasn’t staying but would be back for dinner tonight, and Heck looked forlorn already. Bronco, Jace and Heck would sleep in the living area; Nita and Lexi in one bedroom; and Claire and Nick in the other. But again, Nick thought, please, Lord, don’t let us be here long before we get out of here somehow.
Claire had taken Lexi off to their bedroom to talk to her, so he left Jace guarding them and went downstairs to the lobby with Bronco, alias Cody Carson. They walked toward the bank of laptops guests could pay to use. Ten dollars an hour here, and Gina thought that was expensive.
He’d already paid for the online time, so he just handed the guy in charge his receipt and sat down at a vacant laptop station. His hands were shaking. He should have Heck here, but he’d walked Gina downstairs to say goodbye until later.
In case someone tried to stop him, Nick had not brought the paper Rob Patterson had given him about covert contact. He’d type in the message first, then address it so it couldn’t go out by mistake before he had it just the way he wanted it:
My stock market investments have crashed, but we’ll get through it with your advice. We want to return to your firm. Any thoughts on how to get back in the market? I’d hate losing everything. I’ll keep a low investment profile until I hear from you. Hotel Nacional in Havana is excellent. Jack Randal
He typed in the email address he’d been given by Patterson. It sounded like an investment firm in Chicago. Then he hit Send.
* * *
Claire bought Lexi a bathing suit in one of the first-floor shops, then let her go to the pool with Nita and Bronco. Lexi had promised that, if she could go swimming, she would only whisper to Lily and not repeat anything her friend said. Jace had gone down to the pool too, just to keep an eye on things from the shade, he’d said. Claire took a fast shower, and then Nick took his turn.
When Nick came out of the bathroom, Claire almost hurled herself in his arms. With just a wet towel tied around his waist, he sat on the bed and lifted her onto his lap. “Hang in there, sweetheart,” he tried to calm her, but she knew he was on edge too.
“I know we don’t have time for this, but I—I just needed your arms around me,” she stammered. “I put mine around Lexi to try to comfort her, but she was kind of not there. Stiff. Angry. I mean, I understand but I just couldn’t seem to talk her out of Lily—to help her.”
He rocked her a bit. She clamped him to her. “We’ll get out, get back to normal—whatever that is living under WITSEC protection—until they get their hands on Ames.”
“What if these rooms are bugged?”
“I don’t think so. They’d lose their business if anyone found out and word spread. This is a hub of savvy, greedy foreigners with money the Cubans want, so they have to be careful. At least we won’t stand out here, except for our lousy wardrobes. Want to go down to the pool, get a bite to eat there, keep an eye on Lexi until we hear from Patterson?”
He shifted her closer. Claire could tell he was wavering about making love to her. She wanted that, but the world spun whenever Nick touched her that way, and they needed to be aware and wary. She almost told him she thought she might be pregnant, but there had to be a better time than this for such momentous news.
Clearing his throat, he said, “So Heck should be back by now, and I need to talk to him about our next step online—waiting for my so-called investment banker to contact us with instructions. But if we go down, I can check to see if there’s a reply yet. I’m hoping—praying—he responds fast.”
She lifted her head from his shoulder. “Heck didn’t come upstairs with you?”
“He wasn’t with me. He walked Gina out, said he’d only go as far as the Malecon and be right back. He’d better not be hanging with her longer than that. Go look in the suite for him, and I’ll get dressed.”
She went out but soon came back in. Her slacks around her hips were darker blue where his towel had spread its dampness. “Nick, he’s not here.”
“Let’s go down to the pool to see if he’s there,” he said, not both
ering to tuck in his shirttail. “Right now.”
* * *
But Heck wasn’t at the pool. The others hadn’t seen him.
“I really don’t think he’d just go off with her,” Claire said.
Jace, who was with them now, said only, “Guys in love have done stranger things. But—once again—can we trust her? He would be easy to interrogate with his Spanish—and his ties to the old regime.”
“Don’t even think that,” Nick muttered. “Let’s look in the café bar. Maybe he or both of them ducked in there, couldn’t say goodbye to each other even for a few hours. I should have done a better job reading him the riot act about her, but he’s always been so loyal and levelheaded.”
Claire watched the lobby from the door while the two men walked around inside. She overheard a woman with a British accent say, “I heard this bar used to be terribly chic years ago. Look at the pictures on the wall of Sinatra, Errol Flynn, Clark Gable and—oh, what’s her name, over there, she married Sinatra. Oh, that’s right, Ava Gardner. And I heard it was here Sinatra was spotted with gangsters and that shot his reputation.”
“Indeed,” her male companion said. “At least it was only his rep that was shot, since some of the blokes who had monetary interest in this place got shot by Fidel and Che’s firing squads.”
Despite the warmth in here and the strangely comforting smells of cigars, coffee and coconut pastries on a tray near her, Claire shuddered. The statue of Venus in the corner past the bar reminded her of that statue—and her own face—in the cemetery staring at her. She felt slightly nauseous. And where was Heck?
* * *
Since Claire felt a little queasy, Nick walked her up to the room. Jace was sitting in the lobby, waiting for Heck, and Nick planned to go down to join him. “It’s terrible not to have cell phones on us,” Claire said as she lay down.
“Yeah. I’ve seen people with them but they use them like pagers, and Gina said you can’t risk any sort of questionable conversation on them anyway. You just lie here, and I’ll go down and tell Nita to bring Lexi—and Lily—back up here.”