2 Green to Go

by John H. Cunningham

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Slide over into the passenger side here and get out of the car.”

  He got out, pulled a pack of Marlboros from his breast pocket, and stuck one in his mouth. It wasn’t there a second before I smashed it with a knuckle sandwich that dropped him to his knees.

  I shook my hand. His teeth had dug into my knuckles and a sharp pain shot up my arm. His body was limp on the ground. I shouldered the rifle, dragged him to the truck, tossed him inside the bed, and had Ray tie his legs and arms. Nina was so furious she couldn’t speak. She spit on Ramón while he was unconscious.

  “Nina, it’s going to take the three of us to get the damn horse out of the way.”

  We nearly broke our backs dragging it by its forelegs to the side of the road and pushing it into the ravine, where it rolled once and stuck, about a third of the way down. I felt sticky goo on my hands and saw in the truck’s headlights that they were covered in blood. Ramón’s friends must have shot the horse and left him in the road to die. Traffic on these back roads at this hour was non-existent, which I assumed meant we were almost back to the farm. I’d slept longer than I thought.

  I waved Nina ahead, and Ray and I ran to the other vehicles.

  “What are we going to do? Push them down the hill?” he said.

  “No, they’ll be found too quickly. Who knows if Ramón or these junior PNR’s told anyone else about us.”

  “Then what?”

  “I always thought you looked like a Cadillac man, Ray.”

  “Seriously?”

  With Nina in the lead, I followed behind her in the PNR’s truck, and Ray followed me in the Cadillac. If an ambush awaited us at the farm, this might throw Gutierrez and his men off balance.

  I had no idea, however, what we’d do then.

  43

  Down in the depths of the bank barn, candles burned to augment the few light bulbs that dangled from above. The conditions couldn’t be worse for precision work, but there was no choice. What with Gutierrez, Sanchez, Gunner, and the Peruvians all on the frenzied hunt, Ramón’s double-dealing, and Tio Luz’s potential boasting, there were too many loose ends, any of which could lead directly to the farm.

  Once back, the first thing we’d done was resurrect the impromptu hoist to lift the engine back into the mount. Even with Ray, me, and Nina, we were undermanned. We hadn’t awakened Señor Maceo—Nina was afraid he’d have a heart attack over the Cadillac, the PNR vehicle, and his captive nephew Ramón—so we snuck into the farm, hid the vehicles, restrained Ramón, and set off to work. We could have used another set of hands to tighten bolts, add fluids, connect wires, and help prepare for what we hoped would be the sunrise flight of the Beast, but we made do.

  Nina and I were bleeding the brake line to the port wheel assembly when a shriek from the pile of crates we’d been using for a scaffold shocked us to our feet. Ray had a hold of his crotch, and he half slid, half fell off the scaffold with a moan.

  “What happened?” I said.

  “My balls, I hurt my balls pulling too hard with the wrench on the final bolt.”

  “Hernia?”

  His hand was down his pants to check his plumbing. He sat on one of the many hay bales on the floor.

  “I don’t think so, just a strain.”

  “Are you all right?” Nina said.

  “No, I’m not all right. It’s the middle of the night, I’m in a hole in the ground salvaging a dinosaur of an airplane, on the run for my life, I probably just ruined my rarely used testicles, and I’m beyond exhausted.” He looked at Nina, then away quickly. “Sorry, I just … I need … sleep.”

  “Go ahead, take a break,” I said. “Go lie on the couch up above. We’ll finish the port and starboard brakes. There’s not much more to do.”

  He rubbed his eyes.

  “Sorry, guys.”

  He walked into the darkness and I could hear his feet shuffle up the ladder. I checked my watch. It was 3:27 a.m. At dawn we’d fly the Beast out of here or die trying. I was so tired I no longer cared which.

  It took another forty-five minutes to bleed the lines, pump fluid into the cylinders (which now had pieces of rubber work gloves for gaskets), and close off the brake systems. Far from ideal, but hopefully sufficient to stop us if we made it far enough to need brakes.

  When I ducked under the starboard wing to check on Nina, I found her asleep on the ground. The candle that flickered under the wing lit her face with a soft glow, and my delirious imagination thought of Mary in the manger after she’d given birth to the baby Jesus. Exhausted but content, and beautiful.

  I bent down on one knee, slid my hands under her back, and carefully lifted and carried her outside the open barn doors. As I lowered her into the loose hay, her eyes opened and she whispered something in Spanish, then she took hold of my arm and wrapped it around her. We settled into the hay pile as if it were a featherbed. I felt the rise and fall of her chest next to mine, but I couldn’t tell if she was awake or not. My own heart beat double, and the fatigue I’d felt just moments ago was forgotten.

  A light from above caught my eye, and I watched the tail end of a bright piece of space debris skip through the atmosphere. The stars were brilliant, abundant, and silent. Here, outside the barn and in Nina’s arms, I felt at peace for the first time since we’d crashed into the waters of this wretched island. Nothing else mattered, and whatever came next, I’d have the fragrance of mystery fruits from her thick, wavy hair, and the memory of her arm around my waist to—

  “Are you awake?” Nina said.

  “I’m awake.”

  “I thought you fell asleep the moment we lay down,” she said.

  “My heart is beating too hard to sleep.”

  “I can feel it against my chest.”

  I swallowed. “I’m sorry for all this—”

  She pressed her lips into mine with a force that made our front teeth click.

  The moment extended to moments and I held her tightly as we kissed. I’d imagined what it would be like to kiss her since the first time I saw her. This was better. And soon her hands were caressing my shoulders, neck, arms, back and thighs, while I kissed her cheeks, eyes, ears, neck, and throat. She tasted sweet here, salty there—perspiration from the day’s struggles—and I savored her like a luxurious nectar. I hadn’t showered for days, but the scent of my body was no deterrent.

  She pulled my shirt over my head and pressed her hands into my chest, then slipped off her blouse. We came together like a head-on collision. I could see our bodies connected as one, our limbs entwined, as if I were gazing down upon our union from an out- of- body experience, too enraptured to turn away.

  I pulled her hips close and pressed deeply forward as she rolled me on by back and suspended herself momentarily above me. Convulsions led to an eruption of my senses, with smell giving in to taste, that succumbed to touch, and the sight of her pleasure cascaded into an emotional release and embrace that gradually abated as our limbs became limp, and the stars burned holes into the backs of my eyes.

  DREAMS LED ME TO full orchards, where oranges, lemons, cherries and exotic fruits I didn’t recognize grew in wild bunches. As I floated through them, I could taste and smell their bouquets, and the sky above was a brilliant cerulean blue. Then the sky darkened to copper, and through the thinning trees I spotted dark figures. I couldn’t tell whether they were male or female, human or animal, but a sense of alertness replaced the euphoria.

  I could hear one of the creatures whispering my name …

  “… Buck … Buck!”

  My eyes fluttered and a light blinded me. It was sunlight.

  “Buck, wake up!” Ray hovered over me. “Somebody’s here!”

  44

  “Buck!” Ray’s voice pierced the fog of my slumber.

  I blinked my eyes several times, then lurched to my feet.

  The sun hadn’t yet reached the horizon, but Nina was gone.

  “Where’s—”

  “She’s up with her
grandfather. I heard a scream, then a bang … a crashing sound, not like a gunshot—”

  A faint shout resonated across the tobacco field. I ran inside, past the Beast and up the ladder.

  “Buck! No, Buck—wait!” Ray’s voice was small down in the hole.

  I stopped at the top of the ladder and listened, but all I heard was Ray huffing and puffing beneath me. Once at the top he bent over and put his hands on his knees.

  “Don’t go … running … in there.” Ray gasped. “Nina said … she’d … handle it.”

  “I’m going to check it out.”

  I crossed over the road and cut into the woods. Ray scurried behind me, grumbling under his breath, no doubt ruing the day he agreed to help me dive on Gutierrez’s speedboat. Fifty feet in and up the knoll through a thicket of bushes, an animal trail or erosion ditch cleared a narrow path toward the farmhouse at the top of the hill. As we drew closer, I stopped and listened. There were voices but no screaming or shouting. The trail continued around the back of the house, and once past I could see the driveway. There was a small Jeep-like police vehicle parked there.

  Shit.

  “What’s that?” Ray said.

  “It’s not the pizza delivery man.”

  “What are we gonna do?”

  Good question. If it were Gutierrez, he’d be armed and ready. I didn’t know what to expect from Sanchez.

  “I’ll go take a look. Stay here.”

  The vegetation thinned toward the house. There were three windows spread evenly across the back, and with the exception of the kitchen window on the left, I had no idea which rooms they belonged to. There was a fifty-foot patch of dirt and weeds from the edge of the scrubby woods to there, which would leave me totally exposed if I crossed. The kitchen window was open. The side door was just around the corner. I bent down and scurried toward that corner of the house. It reminded me of when Ben and I spied on our parents when we were kids in Virginia.

  The sudden sound of breaking glass brought me up short, halfway through the dirt patch. I expected to see a gun barrel protruding from a shattered window, but there was nothing. I crept to a stop under the kitchen window. There were voices, one of them Nina’s, and though I couldn’t understand what she was saying, her emotion was clear: anger and … sarcasm? My throat swelled with a sense of pride.

  Kick some ass, girl.

  I needed to find out if Gutierrez was there, but what would I do if it were him? The windowsill was just above my head. There was a bucket just past the corner of the house I could stand on.

  I hesitated at the end of the wall, five feet from the bucket.

  Was there anybody waiting outside? I peeked around the corner and saw no one. Just as I took a step forward, the side door flew open and a uniformed man backed out, shouting and pointing inside. I dove back behind the house.

  The man wore the green uniform of MININT. I didn’t see his face, but he was shorter and fatter than Gutierrez, and I doubted my old adversary had porked-up in the months since his glorious return.

  The cascade of footsteps that stomped down the steps from the kitchen led me to estimate there were three men in the detail. But what were they looking for? Or who?

  Like I didn’t know.

  The door reopened and the sound of Nina’s voice rose again. It was less aggressive but still strong. She was no pushover, that one. My mind flashed back to our early morning beneath the stars. Did that really happen? Did I do something I shouldn’t have? No, she had been the aggressor—not that I put up a fight.

  The Jeep roared to life and moments later gravel was flung backward as they sped down the drive. I peered around the corner in time to see them round the first bend. There were three men in the cab, none of whom I recognized.

  Inside the kitchen it felt like a wake. Problem was, I felt like it was for Ray and me. Old man Maceo sat crumpled in one of the chairs and didn’t look up when I entered. Nina paced around the room, tidied, moved a pot from one counter to another, and acted as if I weren’t there.

  After a full minute of silence, I cleared my throat.

  “What did they want?”

  She smashed a coffee cup down on the table.

  I winced, but the old man didn’t budge.

  “They killed the fisherman.” She wouldn’t look at me. “The one who helped you, who took you in for the night.”

  “Juan?”

  I closed my eyes and stood there for a moment, swaying. Damn, damn, damn.

  The side-door burst open and my heart stopped. Ray flew inside.

  “Thank God they left,” he said.

  He searched my face, then Nina’s, then Señor Maceo’s.

  “Trouble?” he said.

  “One of the fishermen’s wives told the police Juan helped you and you left with a farmer, but it seems they didn’t know Papi’s name,” Nina said.

  The old man rubbed the stubble on his cheeks with both hands at the same time.

  “So now they’re checking all the farms.”

  “Did Juan tell them anything else?” Ray said.

  Nina pressed her lips tight and squeezed her eyes closed. A teardrop managed to escape, then another.

  “We don’t know,” I said. “They killed him.”

  Ray listed toward the counter, and had it not been there, he might have kept falling.

  “Those men that came in here … when Papi demanded to know what they wanted, they threw him to the floor. They said it was an old farmer who drove the two Americans away in a truck, and when they found him, he too would be strung up by his … personal parts.”

  Señor Maceo stood but didn’t meet any of our eyes. “I’m a fool. An old fool,” he said. “That silly plane … all these years … risking my family. Then your plane appears, so similar. It all seemed so clear to me then.” He rubbed his eyes. “Now men are dead, my farm—my granddaughter at risk, and for what? A plane? Some crazy sense of duty to Cuba for a new future? Hah!”

  He flung both wrists toward the wall and spit out a bitter, mirthless laugh. Then shuffled out of the room.

  “It’s time for you to go, Buck.” Nina’s voice was calm—remarkably so considering the circumstances. “I’m sorry, but there’s no other choice.”

  “I agree. And the words I’m sorry can’t express how I feel right now.”

  She put a hand to my cheek. In her eyes was a sparkle, a little dimmed, maybe, but not yet replaced with regret.

  “Just take the truck,” she said. “We need to be rid of it now that they’re searching for one. If they catch you, say you stole it. Go to Bahia Honda. From there you can trade it for a boat, or steal one.”

  I nodded. Adrenalin seeped into my bloodstream that pushed the fatigue aside. It was time for action. Our presence here had already caused too much damage.

  “Okay, we’ll leave now. Ray?”

  “But we can leave in the Beast—she’s ready to go, Buck! We just need to fuel her up—I need to check the weight distribution one last time, but she’s all set.”

  Nina and I met eyes.

  She nodded once.

  The three of us headed straight for the barn.

  45

  Nina helped me drag the twenty-gallon jugs over to fuel the Beast. Since Betty’s old wing and engine were significantly lighter than that on the Beast’s starboard side, only the port tank could be filled. The single tank held 75 gallons, which I estimated we’d use a third of to travel the ninety miles to Key West. Ray had hooked the fuel line to the port engine when we connected the wing so they’d draw from the single reservoir.

  Señor Maceo started down the steps as we topped off the tank with the third jug. He stumbled off the bottom step, blinked again and again, took a step forward, then stopped. It was like he’d lost his direction. I could hear noises inside the plane, the scrape of metal and a thud.

  “Nina?” Señor Maceo spoke in a small voice. “You didn’t tell me Ramón came back with you from Havana.”

  Uh oh.

  “He’s not her
e for a visit, Papi. He ambushed us on the way home. He—”

  “Did you let him out of the room?” I said.

  Señor Maceo rubbed his chin. “Why was he tied to the chair? And with that tape over his—”

  “Was?”

  I checked my watch. How long had it been since the PNR were here?

  “Papi, did you let Ramón out of the room?” Nina said.

  “Yes, of course. He said—”

  I tore up the steps through the barn, then up the gravel drive. I could see that the farmhouse’s side door was half open. I continued to the front of the house and found that the Maceo’s Lada was gone.

  Damn!

  Where would he go? Had he known the PNR was just here? His ears hadn’t been covered, so he must have heard the conversation, including the part about the search for the Americans and the crashed plane.

  The farm truck pulled up behind me, with Nina at the wheel.

  “Get in!”

  I was barely inside before she took off down the drive.

  “Did the police mention Puerto Esperanza?” I said.

  Nina didn’t brake as she fishtailed out of the driveway.

  “Yes, he must have heard everything!”

  She smacked the top of the steering wheel as we accelerated up the road toward the coast.

  “Damnit, Papi!” She shook her head. “No, it’s my fault. He didn’t know!”

  Any sense of fear, regret, or concern in Nina had been replaced by sheer determination. She drove the old truck like we were on a Formula One road track.

  “Would he run for home or go look for the police?”

  “Are you kidding?” She gave a short gut-laugh. “Ramón has information that’s worth something, worth a lot, in fact. He’ll hunt for anyone who can reward him, especially those men who threw Papi to the floor!”

  The old truck began to shimmy and I glanced at the speedometer, which lay flat on zero. Once to the coastal road, Nina swung a wide left and we hurtled west. A street sign giving the distance to Viñales sparked a thought. With Ramón on the loose and PNR troops already having been to the farm, we needed to change the game. Even if Ray and I got away, Nina and her grandfather would still be at risk.