Cuban Sun

by Bryn Bauer

  “Sofia, oh my God. It’s you. I thought it was another one of the guards. I thought this was it.” Then his cinnamon eyes flashed and anxiety replaced relief. “Are you ok? Thank God you’re alive!” Sofia put a finger to her lips and pointed toward the voices. Quint nodded his understanding and put a hand on Sofia’s bruised face. She smiled and covered the hand to indicate she was ok. Then, she returned her attention to the lock. She felt the satisfying click of the mechanism and swung the door open just enough for Quint to pass through.

  He led her up the stairs, the stone cool and rough underfoot. Sofia’s heart beat faster as the voices grew louder as if the rise in volume also dialed up the volume of blood in Sofia’s body. Finally, they stopped just outside of the room which was the source of the voices. The participants inside were loud with joviality in rapid Spanish. What were they going to do? They had to pass by the doorway to escape and it sounded as if no fewer than four people were inside. She and Quint chanced a glance inside the room, she saw one guard, fat and sweaty, and another man, the General she had met on the first day in Cuba. From their angle she could hear, but not see the other two speakers. She thought they were men by the pitch of their voices.

  Quint motioned for her to give him the pistol. Reluctantly, she handed it over. She felt vulnerable without it but he had much more recent practice than she and now was not the time for pride to get in the way. He gestured that he would go across first and cover her. Just as she nodded, one of the men got up from his seat and they heard footsteps coming towards the door. The footsteps paused and asked something of one of the others. She heard a bottle opening, liquid sloshing into a cup and then the footsteps returned to the seat. She had to cover her mouth to stifle her sigh of relief.

  In their waiting, she had heard snatches of the conversation and focused on it now, having heard her name.

  “So, what kind of post are you receiving from our President for turning in that government Puta?”

  “I’m sure I’ll be pleased with whatever the President sees fit to give me.” The other man, the General she thought, laughed.

  “Don’t try to conjure false modesty now. It’s not your style. Does he know you’ve already tested the product for sale?”

  The blood rose in Sofia’s face, she could feel it burning as Quint turned to her with a questioning look. She shook her head as if to say I have no idea what’s going on either, so stop looking at me like that. He nodded and turned back to hear the reply.

  “I may have kept that off the sale description.” There was ribald laughter before the General continued.

  “You still have it. I’m surprised your wife didn’t suspect. Though I suppose that’s why you’re hired for assignments like this. Your ability to cover yourself.”

  “Exactly. Tell me, have you gotten word from the hospital about the President?”

  “Not yet. I think he is still critical. What is our next step?”

  “You are to ensure the demise of the young man downstairs and transport the girl to the sales floor.” More laughter.

  “What about you? You have two down and one to go.”

  Sofia was concentrating so hard on the conversation that Quint had to poke her hard in the ribs with the pistol to get her attention. He jerked his head to indicate he was going to chance a dash across the doorway. In three quick movements, Quint checked the pistol, glanced in the room then shot across the doorway. He crouched, facing Sofia on the other side. Then he glanced in the room again and froze. A black, burning look hardened his face. She could see he was breathing quite fast. She waved to get his attention, and then stopped as she heard the man’s reply.

  “Yes, just one to go. I’ve sent one of our foot soldiers to take care of my Desert Rose. Just one flip of the switch and poof. I’m free to take my place beside you and our President.”

  Sofia felt as though she had been struck. Her face and limbs tingled from the impact. She mouthed to Quint. “Joe?” His eyes bore into hers and nodded almost imperceptibly. Her mouth opened and closed with no sound. Joe sold her out? Joe was behind the attacks? Then a thought struck her. Her eyes flew wide and locked on Quint's as she mouthed, “Helena!” He waved to her, urging her to go across the doorway to him.

  She heard one final exchange before racing to Quint.

  “Joe, did you bring the delivery information.”

  “Shit. I’ll need to go back to the Mariana and take care of it. Nothing will happen for another thirty minutes, so I’ll head out now. I’ll see you at the estate General.”

  Quint grasped Sofia’s shoulders and pushed her toward the last few steps and the doorway leading outside. She stumbled but managed to regain her balance and they both slipped through the door and leapt to the side just as Joe emerged. It was only the pitch dark that concealed them, Sofia knew. She could see a vague, dark shape moving off in the opposite direction. She sensed Quint move and felt rather than saw him raise the pistol. She put a restraining hand on his arm, forcing it down before he could fire. The pistol had no silencer. They would be discovered and detained in seconds if Quint shot him, though at that moment she would have liked nothing more than to see Joe dead. As soon as Joe disappeared around the corner of the building, Quint and Sofia sprinted away. Coming to another outbuilding with no guards in sight they ducked under the crumbling roof. At that moment a car engine roared past. It must be Joe’s car. They remained silent for a few seconds to ensure no one else followed.

  Quint broke the silence. “Thanks for stopping me, I know it would have been a stupid move, but I’m going to put that son of a bitch down for this. I just can’t believe it.”

  “I know. I... he seems rough around the edges and moody, but I never would have guessed that he was capable of this. Right now though, we’ve got to get to Helena. Do you know where we are?”

  “I think so. I was conscious for a good part of the ride. They put me in the trunk and the tail light was busted out so I could see a bit. I’m pretty sure that we’re in the north part of the island, about a mile from where I left the bike. They got me when I was following the car that took you. No wonder either. Joe could see my tracker on his phone.” Quint barely moved his mouth when speaking the last few words as if only the speaking made the words true. Sofia tightened her arms around Quint’s middle hoping to reassure him.

  “Alright, let’s get there and see if we can beat Joe. If we off road it on the bike, I think we can make it.”

  Their bare feet were covered in streaks of blood caked dirt by the time they reached the motorcycle, but it didn’t slow them. Quint hopped on the bike and a moment later, it roared to life. Then they were racing across the island toward the harbor, ignoring the rocks and dirt that pelted their bodies. Finally, in the gray light of approaching day, they reached the beach nearest to where the Mariana was anchored. Dismounting, they walked the bike behind a fishing shack and crouched to discuss their next move.

  Sofia peeked out and said. “I didn’t see anyone following, but it won’t be long until they know we’re gone. Let’s go get Helena.”

  Quint held her to the spot. “I know, but we can’t go to the harbor. We have no eyes over there to see just how many military there are. Plus, that’s where Joe will go. He has no fear of being seen. He’ll want everything to appear as normal as possible. I think we beat him here, but there’s no guarantee of how much lead time we have.” Sofia had a thought as she accidentally touched one of her torn earlobes.

  “Check his tracker!”

  Quint shook his head. “They took everything when they grabbed me. Look, I left a zodiac just over there in the scrub earlier tonight. That’s how I came ashore. Unless someone stole it, I’m sure it’s still there. Neither Joe nor Helena would have had the opportunity to take it back to the Mariana. We can take that around the port side and board quietly to get Helena.”

  Sofia squeezed Quint’s hand and as they ran she said, “I hope it’s not too late. He said thirty minutes.” Nothing came in reply except Quint’s steady breaths
and footsteps behind her.

  Sofia fought through the low scrub that tore at her already battered skin. Branches snarled in her hair. The darkness and her panic caused her to trip repeatedly which only increased her desperation. Her legs burned in protest of the night’s exertions, screaming for oxygen. Sofia heard Quint’s rasps and quick footfalls behind her though they were on loamy soil. She half turned her head and yelled “Are you sure this is the way? We have get there now! She doesn’t know!” Just as the words were whipped away by the shore wind, the silhouette of the Mariana came into view, anchored slightly off shore. Sofia sank to her knees in the sand under a wave of exhaustion and gratitude. All was well. The yacht was dark in the pre-dawn except for a few lights in the living area. Quint pulled her to her feet toward the zodiac.

  “Come on,” he said, breathless. “We have to go; I don’t know how much time we have.”

  With an immense effort Sofia stood, and a smile broke across her face as she glimpsed a familiar flash of green clothing as a figure appeared on deck. Sofia’s relief intensified. “Helena!” she yelled even though she knew the woman wouldn’t hear.

  The explosion slammed Sofia back into the scrub. White hot lights popped behind her eyelids and no noise reached her stunned eardrums as the realization dawned. Her vision cleared enough to see not the Mariana and her friend, but the twin fires of the remains of the yacht and the brilliant breaking dawn. Then Sofia’s world shattered.

  Sofia sank back onto the cool sand, shaking. She felt the hot, salty tears making runnels down her dirt caked face before she even realized she was crying. Sofia felt strong arms enfold her and Quint drawing her into his own trembling body. His husky voice floated on the wind.

  “Let me not then die ingloriously and without a struggle, but let me first do some great thing that shall be told among men hereafter.”

  Sofia’s tears fell freely now as though Quint’s quoting of Homer had been a cue.

  He continued, “She did something great Sofia, she didn’t die for nothing.”

  Quint’s words did not penetrate her despair. We didn’t make it. We couldn’t save her. How could this happen? She’d lost the woman she had come to love and admire, to see as a mentor. Had seen, she corrected herself bitterly. Sofia thought, I’ve lost the woman who I had begun to see as a second mother. I can’t believe I only met her ten days ago. Sofia continued to shake uncontrollably. The cold flow of shock crept up her body even as her face was warmed by the rising Cuban sun

  SEVENTEEN

  The sound of shouting jarred Sofia out her grief. She and Quint turned, and looking down the beach, saw men in green uniforms running on the dock. Quint rose and pulled her reluctantly to her feet.

  “We have to get out of here; they’ll be combing the beach soon. It won’t take them long to catch up with us.” Sofia scrubbed at her face, wiping tears and forcing herself to think.

  “Let’s take the zodiac around the island. Some of the smaller cays are close by. We could hide in those for a little while until we can think of what to next.

  “Ok, let’s go.” With decision, he strode to the zodiac when Sofia gasped, and idea just having presented itself.

  As they climbed into the zodiac and started the thankfully quiet engine, Sofia asked, “Do we know anyone in Cuba who can get us off the island? You were the primary contact for some of the people here.”

  Quint shook his head as if to rid himself of flies. “I don’t know. Maybe, but we have no way to contact them. We can’t go back onto the island, hunted as we are. I don’t know how to get to them. To be honest, I don’t know if I trust them either. I mean if Joe was dirty, who else did he have? We still don’t know who took you or me. It could have been one of our contacts acting on his orders.”

  Pounding her fist to relieve frustration had little effect as the inflatable boat absorbed the blow. Sofia looked out at the small cays and saw a branch of wood drifting a short distance away. Then inspiration hit. Sofia whirled to face Quint and her words came in a rush, eager to be heard and acted upon.

  “Do you remember the party in Miami? The one in Coral Gables?” Quint’s eyebrows drew down in confusion.

  “Of course, what does that have to do with us now?”

  “My dinner partners told me the story of Roberto Aldama and how his family rock hopped from Cuba, through the Bahamas to Florida.”

  A look of realization passed through Quint’s face. His voice trembled with hope as he replied.

  “The Bahamian waters aren’t far. But they’re not terribly well patrolled; Castro’s men would follow us across the line. Sofia, I think we’ll have to head for Florida.”

  “But that could take days. We’d never make that.” It was true; they were injured and had no food, no water and no protection from the blazing sun. Sofia could see these thoughts fighting with Quint’s urgency to flee. Finally, he spoke.

  “I think it’s our only shot. We have to try it.” Sofia nodded in acknowledgement. She knew it was the only way open to them. Quint continued. “Let’s do inventory to see what we’re working with in terms of defense. What do you have on you?”

  Sofia laid down the emerald stiletto. It seemed so tiny, so feeble lying in the bottom of the zodiac. Quint of course still had the pistol, but that was all. He bent down to pick up the pistol and stopped, staring at the pin. Gently he picked it up while Sofia steered the zodiac behind a small island, shielding them for the moment. She could see Quint’s look of speculation.

  “What? What do you see?”

  “I don’t know exactly, something.” Then he pushed down on one of the lily sprays and the entire end of the stiletto popped up.

  Sofia leapt to the other side of the zodiac, nearly toppling them both into the blue-green water.

  Quint squinted at the device which was roughly half the length of a pencil. He pointed to the miniscule touchpads. “I can see this is some kind of tracking device, but what the hell are these?” He continued to turn it over and over looking for clues.

  Sofia smiled and took it from him.

  “I know what this is.” She flipped a silver switch on the side from “D” to “V” then continued. “It can send data bursts to a preprogrammed location via satellite. Or you can turn the data setting to voice. It’s used mostly in the oil and mining industries.”

  “How the hell did you know that?”

  “I’m the daughter of a communications giant, remember? Just because I don’t get along with my father, doesn’t mean I don’t pay attention.”

  “You know how to use it?” Quint’s question was redundant as Sofia was already touching pads here and turning tiny dials there.

  He saw what she was doing and said, “Wait. Where are you programming the message to go? We have to be careful that it won’t be intercepted.”

  “It won’t. I’ve programmed it to hit only Koury Communications satellites.” She sighed then. “It’s going to my father’s cell. I thought about programming it for one of our Miami contacts but I thought this was safer.” She looked at the data programmed in and noticed that she didn’t feel the dread that usually accompanied calls to her father. She felt lighter, freer in calling him. Sofia thought that wasn’t only due to the dire circumstances. She now felt more confident in herself, better able to evenly match her father. Yet, there was something else too. The area of her heart which had long ago frozen with her father inside had thawed slightly. After all, her experiences with her father had been part of what kept her alive and guided her footsteps over the last few weeks. So, with a final look to Quint, she lit a finger on the touchpad and waited for the voice. “Dad, its Sofia. Please don’t talk, just listen. I need your help…”

  After touching the tiny pad again Sofia said, “Ok, you heard him. He’ll have someone at those coordinates in an hour. I think it’ll take us at least that long to get there. Then Sofia paused, a question forming. “How did you know to look at the hairpin?”

  “I didn’t. I just noticed one of the lilies was bent down. Plati
num is so hard, that it wouldn’t have happened unless it was meant to, even with the night you had.” He winked. “And, you’re not the only one who’s made the acquaintance of Mr. Winston. Nothing ever is a single use item.”

  Sofia was thankful for Mr. Winston’s foresight, but why had he not told her about it? The question buzzed around her brain while she started programming the device.

  Quint gave her a sidelong look as he guided the zodiac slowly from behind the island. He waited for Sofia to enter in the coordinates before speaking.

  “You know I had nothing to do with your being taken, don’t you? I didn’t Sofia. I would never….” His voice cracked slightly and he trailed off leaving any number of actions he would never do to fill the space. Sofia’s eyes teared briefly and she blinked them back.

  “I know. They tried to tell me you did, but as soon as I saw the Homer book, I knew.” Then she reached into her pocket and brought out the small, ragged book.

  His arms flew past the book and grabbed her into an embrace that squeezed the air from her lungs in its intensity. “I love you Sofia. I love you.”

  She struggled to speak but couldn’t for the pressure he exerted on her body. She pushed him gently back. When he eased his grip, she gasped for air, making him laugh. He cupped her face as she answered. “I love you too, Quint.”

  A long silence followed in which they were able to focus on that one small shining light among the darkness that had overtaken them during the last twelve hours. Finally, Sofia felt she had too many questions to remain silent. “How did they get you?”

  “I was following the car they took you in.” He opened his hands wide on his stained jeans. “I wasn’t careful enough though. I suppose Joe told them who I was. They caught up to me, dragged me off the bike, beat me up, and threw me in the cell. I know they would have killed me. I could only think about you being dead, Sofia. I kept trying to think of a way to get you out.” Then he made an impatient gesture. “Until they knocked me out anyway.”