Cuban Sun

by Bryn Bauer

  “Alright. You go get ready, and then we’ll talk about getting you back to Charleston to pick up your things.” She saw Sofia’s glance at Quint. “Don’t worry; Mr. Koury arranged transport for him too. I’ll stay with him until you’ve gotten yourself together.”

  Huh, thought Sofia. She didn’t know if she’d ever be “together” again. She wouldn’t go back to law school, that she was sure of. After the experiences of the last few weeks, the good and the bad, Sofia knew she would never be able to work in an office. As the steaming water in the shower beat down washing the grime and dried blood away, Sofia thought about what she might do. Government work? Maybe she would go back to Outward Bound. But none of her ideas sparked the interest as thinking of doing this kind of work, even with all she had been through. She was good at it and felt good doing it. Well, she thought, wincing when the washcloth touched a particularly bad cut, most of the time.

  The more she thought about it, the surer she was about continuing in this type of career. Her background, connections and her instincts all lent themselves to clandestine operations. But how would she get another job like this? It’s not as though these organizations posted on the Internet. If Quint got better…no, when Quint recovered, he might be able to tell her. She wouldn’t take the chance of working with unknowns again though. She had learned that much.

  Having new clothes and being clean for the first time in three days vastly improved Sofia’s outlook though it had done little to diminish her grief for Helena or worry for Quint. But she did feel better able to meet it. Emerging from the sterile hospital bathroom, she found Gloria talking a streak to Quint. She was telling him all about Sofia’s childhood antics. Sofia laughed and addressed Gloria.

  “If you keep telling him that stuff, he’ll wake up and walk out just to get away from me, tubes and everything.”

  Then she heard a grunt of amusement from the bed and was shocked to see Quint, awake. She rushed towards him but glowered at Gloria.

  “Why didn’t you come and get me?”

  “He only woke up a few minutes ago and you needed a little time to yourself.”

  Quint turned his eyes to Sofia, bright with amusement as he spoke. His voice came out as a rasp, hoarse with strain and disuse.

  “I especially liked the story about you parading through the gardens in your underwear with a Miss America sash when you were six.” Blood rose to Sofia’s face.

  “Gloria! You didn’t!” Gloria didn’t reply except to continue laughing and wipe tears from her cheeks. Quint reached for Sofia’s hand. She saw the IV lines webbed along his arm. He laughed and then stopped abruptly with a grunt and rubbing a hand on his chest. Sofia automatically moved her hand over the call button, but he waved off.

  “Don’t worry Sofia; your antics let me know you’re human. You were amazing yesterday. I knew you were up for the job, but you did more than anyone could ever have expected.”

  “You mean except for not finishing the job, letting Helena get killed, letting you get shot and…and…” She trailed off and looked out of the window to hide her face. His voice was stronger now, stern.

  “Sofia, none of those things were your fault and you know it. Nor was it your role to finish the job in the first place. You far surpassed what I brought you to Cuba to do. I’ve known Joe for ten years and I only just started to suspect something was up yesterday. I knew something was off, but I would never have guessed he was in that deep or that he was prepared to kill.”

  The weight lifted somewhat from Sofia’s shoulders, but not completely. She still felt as though she had pushed her way into the operation. She kept insisting to continue, to be in the spotlight. If she had just stepped back… Sofia was brought back to the conversation by Gloria’s voice.

  “You did it Sofia. Castro died at the hospital yesterday morning.”

  Quint and Sofia both gaped at her. Quint broke the silence.

  “How do you know? Are you sure?”

  “Of course. The communications business encompasses many modes and we have them all Mr. Quintis.”

  “Do you know anything about Joe Canvar? Where he is?” She shook her head.

  “No, we have our eyes and ears out of course, but there’s nothing after he left the old prison.” Seeing their concern, Gloria continued.

  “We also haven’t had any sign of him in the U.S. No movement at all.” Sofia relaxed slightly at that news.

  “Ok. So how do we get back to Charleston?”

  As it happened, the plan was for Sofia to go ahead of Quint as he wouldn’t be released for a few days. Speaking to Sofia, Gloria said, “You’ll travel with a security detail via car up to Charleston and then you can choose where to go.” Sofia nodded, but rankled at the idea of a security detail. She knew it was necessary but moving several people took much longer than moving one. It would take them three days to reach Charleston with that many people and that much equipment. Gloria knew Sofia well and anticipated her independent streak.

  “Sofia, you’ll have your own car and your own room for the trip up.” Then she wagged a finger. “But only if you are a good girl and do as you’re told!” That did make Sofia laugh.

  “I know that wasn’t my father’s idea. Thanks Gloria, having my own space will make the trip much easier. Did he put up a fight?” Gloria shrugged good naturedly.

  “Well, the benefit of having worked for Mr. Koury for so long is that he listens to me, if only occasionally. I’m just lucky this was one of the occasions.” She then turned to Quint. “Assuming you keep on the mend, the docs say you can get out of here in a few days. Koury Communications will fly you up to Charleston then.”

  “You mean I’m not as important? No caravan for me?” It was heartening for Sofia to hear Quint’s sense of humor return. Gloria turned to him.

  “You’ll still probably need some medical equipment and support. Those things don’t travel so well over roads that have potholes which could swallow a bus. But to answer your question, no Mr. Quintis, nobody is more important to Mr. Koury than Sofia.”

  NINETEEN

  The road to Charleston seemed endless. She had to endure stops almost every hour and interminable waiting for security sweeps of hotel rooms and restaurants. Sofia hadn’t realized that ‘security detail’ meant going to defcon one. She wasn’t the President for Christ’s sake. Still, this parade must have cost her father dearly. She wasn’t thinking of money, he wouldn’t bat an eye at spending millions, but it must have cost him a good deal of political capital which was much more valuable. This level of security was beyond what Koury Communications would have on hand. And these folks were the best. Sofia could judge that now. They knew what they were doing and had every gadget possible to ensure her safety. Rayan Koury must have had to call in favors from very influential people. That’s what touched her. He hadn’t hesitated to give up political leverage to help her.

  She was still pondering this turn of events when the caravan arrived in Charleston city limits. She steered the car down familiar streets in the cityscape watching it slip by. She passed carriages, historic buildings, her favorite restaurants, things that once made this place feel like home, and yet she felt nothing. The city, which at one time had been exciting, a place to explore every day, now held no appeal. Although, driving along the Battery and looking out to the sea, she did feel a twitch of longing in her belly. She still yearned to be out on her kayak or standing along the balustrades with her hair whipping in the salt breeze.

  Maybe she would take some time and head out to sea for a while. She may be able to borrow or rent a boat. Then a thought occurred to her. She could go with Quint! He lived on a boat. She indulged a brief fantasy of her and Quint hauling rigging together and making love on deck. Then reality popped the bubble. She had no idea what Quint’s plans were. Would he want to return to the Law School? Would he want to leave Charleston? Yes, he had said he loved her, but love didn’t always stretch to changing one’s life. As her black sedan pulled onto her parking pad at the apartment bui
lding, Sofia resolved not to make predictions. In hindsight, she thought that was something she obviously didn’t have a talent for. Moving up the narrow, decaying stairs with six men armed to the teeth in tactical gear was almost comical to Sofia. They reached her door and one of the men gently pushed Sofia behind him.

  “We’ll go in and make sure all is clear. Then you can enter.”

  Sofia stepped back out to the front. There was no way she wouldn’t enter her own home first. After what she had been through, Sofia wasn’t about to play the damsel in distress now and said so. She took care to show the determination on her face and the team lead nodded and motioned for the rest of the team to stand back.

  Sofia drew the Makarov PM. Somehow she had managed to keep it with her through her ordeal over the last several days. When Gloria had returned it to her upon her departure from the hospital, Sofia found the weight reassuring. It felt like hers now, protection and strength.

  Sofia opened the front door moving into the small living room. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the dimness within and Sofia cursed the apartment. It had always felt like a cave. Then she caught movement from the corner of her eye and whipped the pistol around to focus on the couch. She moved forward instinctively and as her pupils dilated she saw a glint of green. She nearly dropped the pistol in surprise and rushed to cover the twelve feet across the room. Her emotion left her in a cry as she crushed the couch’s occupant in a rib cracking embrace.

  “Helena! Helena!” It was all she could say, tears choked off any other words that may have followed. The tactical team came rushing in at the sound of Sofia’s cry and in moments she and Helena faced the working ends of six automatic weapons. Helena and Sofia looked at each other and laughed absurdly. The men, obviously confused lowered their weapons but didn’t leave. Sofia began to explain Helena’s identity when a rattle came from the kitchen doorway.

  The team had their weapons up and triggers ready in less than a second. The wizened figure of Mr. Winston appeared through the doorway carrying a tray laid for tea. His eyes widened at the sight but then he turned a look of exasperation on them as one would do an overly rambunctious group of preschoolers.

  “Come on lads. Lower those things before you hurt yourselves. I’ll get more cups.” The team leader motioned for his crew to lower their weapons and addressed Mr. Winston in slightly irritated tones.

  “No thank you.” Then to his team he gave instructions to sweep the rest of the apartment, which, given its size took approximately one minute. The team withdrew to the parking lot with the rest of the security team to keep watch until Sofia was ready to leave. Mr. Winston sat the tray on the old, second hand coffee table and poured as Sofia turned back to Helena.

  “How?” she said simply. “I saw the Mariana explode. I saw you on it.” Helena wiped the remaining teardrops from her face as she spoke.

  “No, you didn’t see me. You saw Joe.”

  “What!?” A voice called in surprise from the doorway. Sofia’s hand immediately went for her pistol and then relaxed and her face broke into a joyous smile. Helena stood and embraced Quint, taking care to avoid his injured arm which now rested in a sling.

  “Alexander Quintis!”, she said. “You are a sight for a sad heart. Are you alright? Of course you are, look at you.” Sofia looked and she was right, he not only had recovered, but he seemed to glow.

  “How could I not be? I’m playing out one of my favorite Homer scenes. The wounded hero returned from his adventures to his lovely ladies?” Sofia and Helena both chuckled appreciatively. Quint continued, slightly more seriously. “Of course none of Homer’s characters was privileged enough to have heroines to help him in battle and injury.” Helena followed Quint’s tender gaze that was eagerly returned by Sofia.

  “Ah, I see. Well, good for you two.” Helena’s comment jolted Sofia back into awareness.

  “What?”

  Helena looked askance. “Please, don’t think me a fool. I know love when I see it. I’ve had it myself…once.”

  Mr. Winston came to Helena’s side and guided her by the elbow to the couch. She didn’t weep but Sofia knew she had. She looked like one who would cry if she could but had no tears left, as if they had been tapped out. The look of misery lasted only a moment before it was replaced with resignation. Mr. Winston addressed Quint and Sofia.

  “Helena blew up the boat.” Both Quint and Sofia let loose a flood of questions but Mr. Winston gave them a level, blue look that dammed the tide immediately. He was kind and sweet but not one to be trifled with.

  “She will tell you if you’ll just hush and listen.”

  “Sorry. Yes, of course. Helena, whenever you’re ready.” Sofia said.

  “Quint, you said you thought something wasn’t right about the whole situation. So, the last day we were in the residence, I angled away into some of the more restricted areas and planted more cameras. That night I saw Joe in those areas. Places, he ought not to have been. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice since so many things about this type of operation change moment to moment. In fact, I felt...proud.” She said the last word as though it were poisonous. Mr. Winston put his hand over hears and both Quint and Sofia nodded in acknowledgement. Helena bent her head and continued. “But, then I saw that his tracking device was back in the conference room. It wasn’t on him. I hadn’t had the chance to tell him about the additional cameras since we hadn’t seen each other all day. And that’s when I knew. He left the tracker on purpose. He didn’t want me to know where he was.” Quint couldn’t hold in the burning question.

  “But it’s a long way from deception to...to what he did.” Quint avoided the term “murder” out of delicacy, but he could see it affected Helena all the same. She raised her head, and sipped tea before responding.

  “True, but I don’t think it was such a leap by that time. Joe has always loved money and power. That was growing lately, but I think I chose to ignore it. And of course, he has never, ever left a tracker before. He’s always been scrupulous about letting me know he’s ok. And…there were other, little things.”

  Quint agreed. “I think that’s what bothered me. The little things. When I was training, he never treated me the way he did Sofia, preventing me from trying out my skill and putting me in the spotlight. I thought it was because she was a woman, but plainly it was another motive.” Sofia took up the thread as her suspicions were now confirmed.

  “Do you think he was threatened by me?” she asked the room at large. “I always felt like he thought that I was intentionally trying to usurp his place. I wasn’t but, I seemed to always make him mad. Especially when I outed him on activities that he hadn’t told you all about. The engine room and surveillance.”

  “I think so my dear. Those are things I should have picked up on, but his behavior had been changing so gradually, I don’t think I noticed, or didn’t want to.”

  “It’s not your fault my love.” Mr. Winston grasped her hand more tightly. “You gave everything to that man.” His voice was emphatic but not harsh. Helena laughed and addressed Sofia and Quint.

  “Mr. Winston has been very kind to me. He’s even avoided telling me ‘I told you so’.” Mr. Winston made a gesture of denial.

  “I’ll admit I never liked the boy and never trusted him, but I never thought he would do anything like this. He betrayed you and his country.” Sofia thought he narrowly held back from finishing with “may his soul rot.” Helena continued.

  “It’s all down to Mr. Winston that I’m alive.” His eyes twinkled but his response was humble.

  “No my dear, I just left you a little surprise, your brains kept you alive.”

  “Your hair pin?” Sofia ventured remembering the unexpected gift of the communications device.

  Helena’s eyes widened. “Yes, how did you-?”, and then a wry smile crept over her mouth. She turned to Mr. Winston. “You sweet, sweet man. Her too?” Mr. Winston nodded.

  “Of course. I left her a surprise too, of a different kind.” Sofia br
iefly related the series of events leading up to the discovery of the communications device. Helena blanched visibly.

  “Dear Lord in Heaven. I knew some of what happened, but it’s a miracle that you’re here. You two are quite extraordinary.” Helena seemed lost in thought for a moment and then came back to herself at Sofia’s question about the hair pin.

  “Through the video I saw him give the order to one of the infantrymen.” Nobody needed to ask what “the order” meant. “I had already realized he meant to ally himself with Castro and had been using our operation to get close and prove his worth. Disgusting mercenary!”

  Sofia quirked a brow and asked, “Aren’t the three of us mercenaries?”

  “No, we’re different. We care about the consequences. We care about who gets hurt, who lives and dies.” Blood had flushed Helena’s fair face and she took a few moments to recover her temper before finishing her account. “I had taken my hair down and was fiddling with the lilies, trying to think quick about what to do. Then, I accidentally dropped the pin and the face of the lilies came off exposing what was inside. It was an explosive and detonator. I hadn’t told Joe about the hair pin knowing he would be upset.” Sofia recalled the situation.

  “Yes, you asked me not to say anything to him. That must be why they didn’t think to search me for my pin. I didn’t tell Joe about my pin either.” Mr. Winston beamed, pleased and squeezed Helena’s hand.

  “Yes, precisely. So, I set my own explosion. I knew he was on his way back; I saw him leaving and head in this direction. I also knew he would delay my demise until he had gotten what he came for.” She rooted in a large Chanel tote and brought up the order records showing them to Quint and Sofia. As their eyes ran down the page in growing horror, Helena continued. “I set the explosive and left on the other zodiac.” Her eyes began to swim again and both Sofia and Quint moved to sit nearer their friend. Quint held the order records. “These can be delivered to Interpol easily. That should take down the other leaders in the ring.”