Big Smoke

by R. F. Blackstone

  Then something odd happened. The Policia went in and almost immediately they came running out. They were jibbering to the other officials about the undead and now the Army was there.

  “I love watching the circus,” Adriana said as she took a bite of the sandwich. Christine nodded as she chewed. “A bit of entertainment while we eat; good for the digestion.” Adriana laughed at her own joke.

  They watched as the coroners waited patiently for the Policia and Army to finish their fight. Christine was solemn as she ate, her eyes and ears on the two most senior men screaming at each other. The coronel was mouthing off about national security and that there was only one way to take care of the situation. The capitan of policia argued that since there was no interest to national security that he was in charge. The coronel then gave him a walkie-talkie with instructions. The chef waddled over with the yucca fries, dropped them on the bench between them. Adriana handed him some pesos then watched as the he waddled back to his kitchen.

  “Continue the story,” Christine said after a prolonged silence.

  Adriana blinked then stared at the restaurant. “Well, there isn’t much else to tell. After searching around the Bay and coming up empty, I was heading back to the entrance to get out without any problems. But, you know how problems and trouble follow me around.” Christine nodded slightly. Adriana smiled at that then continued, “Those two big bastardos, the Danny Trejo look-alikes, they had been following me and they cornered me. ‘Stay away from the Bay,’ one said. I laughed; these must be rocket scientists. They continued in this way, warning me about the Bay, that Sanderson was going to be killed no matter what.”

  “Were they American?” Christine asked. She was looking intently at Adriana.

  “No. They were Cubans, from the south, I think. Why?”

  Christine didn’t say a word, but her eyes moved away from looking at her partner to the restaurant. “Chris,” Adriana asked.

  “The USA has a policy of not employing any Cuban Nationals at Guantanamo. It’s a security reason. They are afraid that with all the renditions happening that one day a prisoner would be Russian. Which would mean that a Cuban employee would be tempted to release or at least help them… Don’t look at me like that! They still think of Cuba as being Communist.”

  “Pendejos,” Adriana spat. “They come here and speak about re-establishing talks and dismantling the embargo and yet they all believe we are like Castro! So, these two goons were warning me and trying to generally intimidate me. Which, after a while gets boring. Foreplay is fun and all, but sooner or later, I need to get down to the fucking. So,” she grinned, “I kicked one in the huevos. Went down faster than a Cubano does. His amigo looked confused, which gave me enough time to flip him over then follow with a face stomp. Shattered his nose perfectly. While I was wiping the blood off of my shoe, the first one got to his feet. He growled something which made me laugh. I suppose that made him angry because he grabbed me in a bear hug. Which was nice, his muscles felt nice and yes, I got a little wet. Don’t give me that look, Chris, you know how much I love to be held.”

  Christine shook her head as she gulped down the cola. Her hand reached for the yuccas and she bit into one. Delicioso.

  “He was grunting and in any other circumstance, I would have been delighted by the noises. Not then though. Too many chances of US troops rounding the corner.”

  “What did you do?” Christine asked, bored now by the story.

  Lacking any interest in what was happening at Papa’s, both women failed to notice the Army drenching the building with gasoline. The ambulancia, policia, and coroner all had left the area quietly and the only interested parties were the chef and some stray animals. Four commandos with heavy backpacks stepped up along the perimeter of the building. They were handed a hose which they connected building flamethrowers.

  The flames leapt from the barrels and arced high into the night sky. The moment the heat touched the gasoline-covered wood, the building exploded with fire. The heat was so much that every man had to step back, shielding their eyes. From inside, the wood crackled and popped. Then came the moans which soon were small screams and whimpers. The air was filled with the scents of burning wood, melting plastic, and that special smell of burning flesh that people mistake for pork.

  After watching the burning building, the coronel gestured and soon the area was clear of any military presence.

  “I screamed. As loud as I could,” Adriana said with pride. “It didn’t take long for the cavalry to appear. They arrested the men and then escorted me out. I saw my contact and was able to convince him to have lunch with me. Long story short… Hey! Where you going?”

  #

  Christine had stood and was walking across the small road. Adriana ran and quickly caught up with her.

  “Que pasa?”

  “Your two friends,” Christine said with a curt nod of the head. Adriana followed her gaze and her mouth fell open.

  “I don’t believe it,” she whispered as they made their way towards an alley. Hiding in the shadows were two hulking shapes.

  “Let’s find out what’s going on.”

  Adriana nodded, slightly unnerved now. Christine barely noticed. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  Christine nodded and waved at the two men.

  “Wow,” she said. “You two are huge! I mean, I like them big but you! Ah-ma-zing!” She blinked brightly then giggled. The two men looked at each other then at her. Adriana was behind the corner of the wall, waiting for a signal.

  “Go away, little girl,” the one with a bandage over his nose growled.

  “Oh don’t be silly!” Christine giggled again and she touched the bigger-than-her head arm affectionately. “I’m from LA, you know, and I need a couple of big dangerous types like yourselves for a photo shoot. What do you say? It pays well and you get to keep the clothes… Whatever happened to your nose?”

  “Nada,” Bandage growled again as he roughly brushed her hand away.

  “You need to go now, little girl,” the second one said. He had a slick new haircut and a small beard which did not suit him.

  Christine turned to him slowly. “Honey,” she began, “firstly, I’m not a little girl. Second, you really should shave off the pubic hair. Make yourself look older and not so… oh I don’t know, Christian Priesty.”

  Bandage laughed, big loud guffaws. “I keep telling him the same thing!”

  Slick Cut glared at his brother then turned to Christine. He bent low so he was at her eye level. “You need to leave. Now! Or else I’m going to eat you.”

  Christine yawned, looking bored. “Pish, I thought you two would be fun. Oh well.” She looked downtrodden. “I guess my friend and I should look somewhere else. Darling!”

  The two thugs’ eyes bulged as Adriana stepped around the corner. “Yes, my sweet? Oh! You found them!”

  “Get her,” Bandage snarled.

  Christine was quick. She grabbed a trashcan lid and Frisbee’d it into Bandage’s gut. As the giant doubled over, his face met with a knee. The nose crunched and collapsed even more. The man screamed.

  Adriana ran at Slick Cut who was fumbling with a small Walther PPK handgun. “No you don’t,” she said then with three swift moves, she had disarmed the man. He threw three high punches at her, the last one connecting with her solar plexus.

  Bandage, through teared up eyes, was wrestling with Christine. She was trying to scratch the face. The man laughed as he used his weight to hold her down. Two large slabs of meat wrapped themselves around her small throat and the thug started to squeeze.

  Slick Cut picked up Adriana and slammed her into the ground. She grunted as the air escaped her. She tried to crawl away, but her leg was grabbed. As she was dragged back into the fray, Adriana kicked out at the face. Her foot connected with the eye socket and there was a sickening crack followed by a pop and blood. The thug screamed like a goat, clutching at his face.

  Adriana got to her feet and rubbed her chest. At least on
e rib broken, maybe more cracked. A kick into the stomach forced the man onto his back. With grim determination, she picked up the gun. “Todos los Cubanos deberían disparar.”

  “Nononono no! Por favor,” Slick cut begged as Adriana placed the barrel of the gun against his forehead.

  “Y disparar bien,” she said as her finger squeezed the trigger.

  The gunshot echoed louder than a bomb blast through the alley. The face sagged, eyes rolling up as blood oozed from the new orifice. The mouth hung open slackly and the body slumped into a sitting position. Christine and Bandage stopped their struggle and looked up.

  Bandage screamed when Adriana kicked the body over. The face stared at the brother, eyes never blinking again. An arm outstretched as if to say “Help me.” Adriana squeezed another round into the chest. The dead man flinched from the impact.

  “Leave him alone,” Bandage howled then made a run for Adriana. He stopped dead in his tracks when she pointed the firearm at his face.

  “Sit down.”

  The man obeyed, obedient as a dog. Christine struggled to her feet, coughing and rubbing her neck. There would most likely be a bruise from this. Damn! She stumbled over to the two. Adriana held the gun an inch from the thug’s face.

  “Damn, Adriana! That was uncalled for.”

  Adriana shook her head, a short sharp movement. “We need only one alive. This gorilla seems the more intelligent.” She gestured with the gun and the thug started sobbing. “Stop that,” she commanded.

  The man yelped as the gun slapped his face, causing a small cut to form along his cheek. The bandage on his nose was seeping with fresh blood and there was bone matter sticking out of it. His eyes flashed with anger and his fists curled into balls.

  “This is what’s going to happen,” Christine said. “I’m going to ask you two questions. Answer them both and you’ll be free to go and bury your brother. If not, then…” She nodded to Adriana who pressed the gun into the skin of his cheek.

  “Fine,” Bandage said sullenly.

  “Excellent,” Christine said happily. “First question, what were you doing at Guantanamo bay?”

  “Trying to get this puta,” the man nodded at Adriana, “before she ruined everything.”

  Christine looked at Adriana who shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. Slowly, Christine turned back to the man on his knees; they were covered in blood as a small pool had formed. “Go on.”

  Bandage chuckled. “Of course, there are no nukes on Cuba! That’s the stupidest thing in the world. More-so than Justin Bieber. If she found out and reported back to her bosses about this, then Sanderson would have nothing to worry about and the plan would fail.”

  “What plan?” Christine whispered. Her mind was working overtime, putting everything together. There were still pieces missing but a picture had started to form.

  “Is that the second question?” A look of victory had crept over Bandage’s face.

  “Answer her,” Adriana said with a quick slap.

  He recovered then rubbed his cheek. “Pendeja!”

  “Enough of that,” Christine barked. “What’s the plan? What is Jeremiah Banks up to?”

  Another laugh erupted from the giant, it was a barking laugh, the same as a big dog. “Jeremiah Banks is nothing more than a name used by many to scare the government. He hasn’t been seen here in years. Not since he publicly humiliated some agent. Now, where was he from? Not FBI. Or CIA. MI6 maybe.” The thug was having fun drawing out the conversation. “That’s it! The Station. Some perra agent he set up when she got too close to his operation. Had her give up her entire network. Messy business from memory.”

  Christine kicked the man hard in the chest, sending him backwards. He laughed as he fell then just as quickly stopped when he landed on the dead body of his brother. Christine stood over him then stomped his right ankle. It cracked with a splintering and the bone ripped through the skin. A howl escaped from the thug’s mouth.

  Adriana stood over him, pointing the gun. “Hush now.”

  “Where is he?” Christine asked casually.

  “No idea,” Bandage replied. “Last I heard, he died from some rare disease in Asia. Got it from some whore most likely. Now we all use it. Some for the money and reputation. Others for the power.”

  “And yourself?”

  “Because I can,” he answered with a roar of laughter.

  Christine turned to Adriana. “Fuck this.”

  Adriana nodded and pressed the gun into the man’s leg. The flesh muffled the sound and all that could be heard was a small POP followed by a moan. He reached for the wound but Adriana swatted the hand away. Christine knelt next to him, making sure to keep herself above the blood.

  “Why don’t you try to be more polite?”

  “Suck my cock!”

  Christine shook her head, then slowly she took out a penknife. She opened the blade and with deliberate slowness inserted the tip into the new hole. A little force exerted and the knife easily cut into muscle. “Call me suspicious,” she said, “but I don’t believe you. Tell me the truth. Who are you working for?”

  Bandages clamped his mouth shut and smiled defiantly. Instead of getting mad, Christine shrugged and twisted the knife, causing the blade to open the wound further. She also forced the blade further into the leg. “You can tell me. We’re all friends now.”

  The giant shook his head, biting down on his lip to keep from crying out. Christine continued to wiggle the blade downward until she felt something hard. Bone. She scrapped the blade across it and she could tell that Bandages was in true pain. “Speak up now,” she said with a final scrap.

  “Jeremiah Banks,” the goon screamed. “It’s all him! Now please for the love of God stop!” He was sweating and had turned pale. Christine nodded and removed the blade, blood oozed then squirted out of the wound. The blood began to seep and spurt out quicker and quicker.

  Adriana tapped Christine’s shoulder. “I think you hit an artery” she whispered. Christine shrugged then turned back to the man.

  “Tell me more, tell me more.”

  Bandages was panting now. “He wants the USA to back away from Cuba, leave it alone. He has people all over and every contingency planned for! Ask your—”

  The right eye bulged then swiveled to the right as the rest of that side of the face went slack. A small red hole exploded under the eye socket. Blood started to drip out of it. Christine recoiled quickly as three more small holes said hello with little squirts of blood that then started to ooze. She whirled around to see Adriana wipe the weapon down then plant it on the other body.

  “I need a shower,” she said in reply to Christine’s questioning look.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Christine stood naked in the bathroom. Her hand wiped the fogged up mirror and she grimaced at the reflection. A large ugly bruise had started to form around her neck from where the giant thug had been strangling her. Her mouth felt scratchy and she knew instantly that for the next day or so her voice would be barely useful. The scratches on her arm stung but were nothing to worry about. Silently, Christine cursed Station Master, Juan de Dios, Adriana, and herself for everything that had happened. Once upon a time, she thought, in a fight there would be no way she would have gotten this injured.

  “You okay,” Adriana called through the door.

  “Bueno,” Christine replied as she stepped into the shower.

  It hadn’t taken them long to get back to the Nacional. Christine and Adriana had easily avoided the policia after checking the alley for any clues that might lead to them. Then while Adriana kept a lookout, Christine had gone through the pockets of both men. Bandages had nothing of importance on him save for some pesos and a picture of Adriana. It was most likely given to them so they could keep an eye on her. The other one was more inclined to help; his pockets held a wad of money (USA currency), another photo of Adriana, and a hand-written note. It wasn’t in Español, but what appeared to be a mixture of Hungarian, French, and Arabic. Whoever had
written it had already established this code system with the brothers.

  The hotel staff didn’t know about Rafael’s demise and if they did, they hid their sorrow well.

  Adriana was the first to hop into the shower when they entered the room. While she cleaned herself, Christine sat at a table, positioned in front of one of the windows, and stared out at the sea. She didn’t know what the time was, but it had to be late. The moon was full and its light bathed all of Havana in a gentle glow. The waves reflected it and some of the stars. It was truly beautiful and helped Christine put her thoughts in order.

  The first thing she did was pick up the phone and rang the Buena Vista Social Club. When the woman answered, she asked for Juan. It took a minute until she heard the sigh followed by, “This better be good.”

  “You’ve been fucking me from minute one,” was her opener as she had limited time before Adriana finished. That meant she had no time to be polite.

  “Christine? What’s happened?” He sounded surprised and concerned. Apparently, he had forgotten their conversation earlier.

  “Yeah, it’s me,” she said. “I’ve just been attacked by a couple of Jeremiah Banks’ goons. That’s right, he is back! Oh and also a goddamn zombie! So what the fuck is going on with you?”

  Juan didn’t say a word for what seemed like an eternity. Christine kept one ear to the shower; the moment she heard it switch off she would need to hang up, act all nonchalant. She heard the breathing on the other end as Juan tried to figure out what was going on.

  Finally, “Christine, I don’t know what happened tonight. We’ve been busy trying to see if our network of informants has been burned. Rafael Cienfuentes has been murdered.”

  “I know! I made the call. Not before he tried to eat my face… This proves he’s back.”

  “Christine, my dear, this doesn’t prove anything. Rafael had gambling debts. Chances are, he was killed over a bad check…”

  “Bullshit! There is no Shylock in the world that would massacre an entire restaurant to get one deadbeat.”