She pretended to scan the ground around her feet as if looking for something. She moved backwards, excusing herself, smiling apologies. The official started in her direction. She turned around and quickened her steps.
“¡Pare, señorita!”
She didn’t stop, but ducked underneath the poles so that the line of people stood between her and the official.
“Stop! Lady!” The words came in English now.
She pressed her arm against her side and felt for the Glock. Nothing. Her heart skittered. Then she remembered that the gun was stowed at the bottom of her knapsack. She half-ran, half-limped past more people whose eyes widened and mouths fell open.
The end of the line beckoned ahead. The two men still directed people to the right and left. The young family she had noticed earlier, with all the kids, gathered behind them.
She ignored the stabbing sensation in her thigh and thrust her hand inside the knapsack. Her fingers closed around a weapon more powerful than the Glock. She pulled out a fistful of gum. Squeezing between the men, she ran toward the family.
“Niños,”
Anika called out. Eager faces turned toward her.
“¡Cojan!”
She tossed the gum high in the air.
The littlest girl squealed. Her small arms reached for the airborne candy and missed. Pieces hit the station floor, sending the boys diving after them.
Anika scattered another fistful and dashed past the parents, their eyes round circles of surprise.
The kids, joined now by others, scrambled all over the floor, creating a pint-sized human roadblock.
She sprinted outside.
The train for Holguin was already chugging down the track.
She pushed herself forward, clenching her teeth against the hot pulses in her thigh, but the train moved farther and farther away. She spun around in a full circle. Her eyes searched frantically for another route, another zigzag.
Then, for once, Cuba’s unpredictable transportation system worked in her favor. The train lurched to a stop.
She dashed toward it.
Anika descended the steps onto the station platform in Holguin and adjusted the Che Guevara T-shirt and drawstring pants she had bought off a vendor at the previous stop. Even though her skin was sticky from dried-on sweat, she hoped the clean clothes made her look presentable.
The sky had turned a dusky blue-gray and the broiling heat of the day had gentled to a moist simmer. She wondered if her ride was still waiting, despite the train’s late arrival.
At least the station building was quiet. No checkpoint. Relief feathered through her.
A man in a T-shirt with the Las Estrellas
twinkling star logo stood in front of the building. The family resemblance with his Havana cousin was unmistakable — same brown eyes, thick hair, and generous smile.
“
Señor
Estrada?” Despite her achy fatigue, she forced the corners of her mouth to lift. Always meet a mark with a smile. Especially a male. More disarming than a laser shot or a quick jab to the throat.
“You are
Señorita
Brown?”
“Yes, but please call me Jane.”
“I am Roberto. I hope your journey was pleasant.”
She didn’t hold back a sigh. “It was long. Thirteen hours. Did you check for delays before coming?”
“Of course.” His smile deepened. “In Cuba, there are always delays. Is that all your luggage?” He pointed at the knapsack slung across her shoulder.
“I travel light.”
“You are different than most Americans.” Roberto reached for the knapsack.
Anika let him take it. All her practicing with Brad was paying off.
“I’m Canadian.”
“It’s almost the same, no?”
“Not to a Canadian.” She fell into step beside him as they headed down the platform. “At one of the other stops, Ciego something,” she said, “I noticed some kind of checkpoint for visitors.”
“Ciego de Avila?”
“That’s it. Do all the stations have those?”
“Not all the time. The
Ministerio del Interior
does spot checks. They were here last week. So we probably won’t get another one for a couple of months. But as long as your papers are in order, you’ll be fine.”
“Good to know.” She hoped she sounded sincere. “It’s reassuring that they keep an eye on visitors. Must make people feel safer.”
“Exactly,” Roberto said. She didn’t detect any sarcasm in his answer. “The car’s just over here.”
A sweet breeze cooled her cheeks and forehead. She wished she could relax and breathe in the luscious scents. But those luxuries would have to wait.
Roberto held open the door of the sedan. She stayed where she was and scanned the perimeter of the poorly lit parking lot, taking in the drivers and passengers of the other vehicles, the vegetation bordering the grounds.
“Is something wrong?” Roberto asked.
She made one final sweep. No warning signs.
“It’s just so nice to be outside after that long train ride.” She slid onto the worn leather seat, rolled down the window, and leaned her head out. She inhaled more of the night air and adjusted the side mirror. Now she could see behind them.
Roberto settled into the driver’s side and started up the engine.
“Your English is very good,” she said. “Do they teach it in school here?”
“I didn’t get good at it until I attended graduate school in the United States.”
“You went to school in the States? Where?”
“University of Chicago.”
Check
. Just as Brad had said.
“Have you ever been to Chicago?” Roberto asked.
Images from the solo streaked through her mind.
“No.”
“It’s a wonderful city. So alive. And the blues … ” Roberto smiled. “I met Magdalena there. My wife.”
“Yes, Brad mentioned her. How did you two meet?”
“Over a spilled lunch tray in the cafeteria. She was studying medicine. I studied engineering.”
Yes and yes.
“We were there four years. Some of the best years of my life. I got my degree and my first job there. Magdalena worked in the ER at the University Health Center.”
Check again.
Anika relaxed and her muscles sank deeper into the seat. Maybe she really could let go here. Ease off the hyper vigilance.
“Brad says Magdalena works magic with her medicine.”
“He mentioned your leg is bothering you,” Roberto said.
“Oh?” Her nerves sharpened.
“He said you hurt it and that Magdalena might be able to help.”
“Brad’s such a nice guy.”
What else did he say about me?
“Did he tell you how we met?”
“He said you saved his life. Several times.”
“He said that? Funny guy.” She forced a laugh. “He actually saved
me
from being bothered by the police in Havana. They seem to target single women.”
“Yes, Magdalena hates that.”
“Do the police check papers here like they do in Havana?”
“Not so much. Bad for business.”
“Brad told me your cousin’s wife learned all about cooking from Magdalena. I still have dreams about the plantains from that dinner. Your wife must be an amazing cook.”
“One of the best.” In the dark, Anika could hear the pride in his voice.
Suddenly, Roberto hit the brakes and Anika tensed. The car swerved around a large lizard in the middle of the road. “Sorry. Iguana.” He resumed speed.
She eased back against the seat.
Relax, remember? Try to relax.
“When did you leave Chicago?” she asked.
“Just over six years ago. Right before our daughter, Daisy, was born.”
“You wanted to raise her here in Cuba?”
“We were hoping she could be born in the U.S. But the government’s relationship with ours soured again and all Cuban citizens had to return home. Even though Magdalena was under doctor’s orders not to travel, we had to leave.” Robert’s voice hardened. “The authorities were … like stone.”
“Authorities can be like that.”
“Tell me about yourself. Brad mentioned you’re a teacher?”
She skimmed over her cover then launched into descriptions of the places she had visited in Havana. She kept up her monologue until Roberto pulled into one of the spaces in the hotel’s open-air parking lot.
“You have an impressive memory.” He turned off the engine. “Especially for detail. I almost felt like I was in Havana with you.”
“It’s my training … ”
“Training?”
“As an artist.”
“Brad said you became interested in drawing when you were in high school.”
A zing of irritation ran through her.
Brad talks too much.
Instantly, she regretted it. Brad had been a huge help — a buffer from the Havana police, a distraction with the New Aryan, a go-between with the Estradas. She saw again his glazed eyes, the tip of the gun pressed against his temple. Guilt settled on her like a weighted pack.
“Yes, that’s right. I had a wonderful teacher in the tenth grade.” She opened the car door and got out. A tang of salt flavored the cool air. She took a deep breath and tried to let go of the stress and tension from the day.
“We have to walk to the cottage from here,” Roberto said. “Fifteen minutes down the beach. I’ll show you.”
“You don’t have to do that.” She slung the knapsack over her shoulder. “Just point me in the direction and I’ll let you get back home.”
“It’s no trouble. And Magdalena would never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t see you safely there.”
Palm trees stood like silent sentinels along the beach’s perimeter. After the incessant buzz of Havana, the gentle lapping of the waves murmured a lullaby. A pale square outline, topped by a thatched roof, gleamed in the moonlight.
Anika walked up the steps to the cottage porch. A rocking chair angled into one corner and a hammock curved in the other. She fingered the fringe on the hammock.
She had seen pictures of these body-length slings in vacation vids and zines. The people in them always looked so happy. She tugged on the fringe and the heavy cotton swayed from side to side. Maybe she would try it out for herself tomorrow. See if the vacation guides were right.
Roberto fitted a key into the door, toed off his sandals, and gestured her inside. She stepped out of her sandals, too, and picked them up by their leather straps.
“It’s okay to leave them outside. No one will take them.”
“I’d rather have them inside.”
She wasn’t ready to relax her guard that much.
Keep your shoes close and your weapon closer.
The training had been drilled into her.
“As you wish.”
Her bare feet whispered across the smooth wood floor.
“Lights on,” she said, too tired to think straight. Nothing. She started to repeat the command when a click came from behind and the room flooded with light. Another click set the ceiling fan in motion.
“The lights and fan are manual,” Roberto explained.
“Oh, that’s right. Brad told me.”
Her eyes swept the room. Floor-to-ceiling windows ran from the right of the front door, around the corner, to the end of the side wall. Against the back wall, a double bed stood on a raised platform. She resisted the pull of the bed and turned her attention to the door around the corner from the platform.
“Where does that lead?”
“Bathroom.”
She walked over to the door. Pushed it open. Another door stood directly opposite.
“The switch for the light is on your right.”
She ignored the switch and crossed the room. Pulled on the door. It didn’t budge. She pulled harder and it yielded with a creak loud enough to hear in the other room. She liked that. Less chance of a surprise visit.
“I need to fix that,” Roberto called out. “There’s an outdoor shower on the left. For rinsing sand off.”
Fifty meters straight back, waist high grasses created a natural border. The beach was clear and open as far as she could see. Good sightlines in both directions. Protection in the grass. She could even booby trap that area for added security.
“Is everything okay?”
Enough analyzing and planning for tonight. Vigilance fizzled away, replaced by a swell of fatigue.
“The cottage is lovely.” She walked back into the room. “Just as Brad said.”
Roberto jerked upright from a bent over position near a potted plant in the corner of the living room. “I’m … I’m pleased that you like it.” He ran his hand through his hair. Twice. “Ummm.” His eyes met hers then darted away. “Shall I show you how to work the shower, the stove … ?” He trailed off when she rested her chin in her palm and blinked. “Or, I could come by in the morning?”
She nodded and smothered a yawn.
“
Buenos sueños
.”
He closed the door softly behind him.
Sweet dreams.
Anika stared for a moment at the door, then switched her gaze to the plant. Walked over to it. Pushed aside the leaves. She spotted the listening device, a tiny black disk in the dirt. Even though she had expected it, its presence bothered her like sand rubbed into an open cut.
She walked over to the wall switch, clicked off the light, and opened one of the shutters. No sign of Roberto. No sign of anyone. Just the moon looking down from the dark sky with a cool dispassionate gaze. A prickle ran across her shoulders and she rubbed at the goose bumps that sprang up on her arms.
Can I have a life of sweet dreams? Can I have that kind of life anywhere?
Anika waded into the cool wetness of the ocean.
Early morning sunlight sparkled on the water’s surface like glitter thrown by a playful wind god. She raised her arms into an overhead “V” and dove. The liquid flowed over her bare skin like heavy satin.
The last time she had been in the ocean couldn’t have been more different. The night mission had occurred under a coal-black sky. From the deck of the sea transport, she looked down into water as dark and frightening as a botched kill. Jumped into that water and started swimming. Halfway to her destination, her temperature-controlled skinsuit malfunctioned. The frigid liquid encased her in its icy grip, stealing her breath and stunning her mind.