Cuban Sun (14 page)

The next morning dawned filling Sofia with anticipation. So much was at stake today, so much relied on her actions. It was exhilarating. A fine tremor of excitement ran through her body as she climbed back into the cab from the previous day to take them to Castro’s residence.

To her surprise, the car headed in another direction. At that moment Joe pronounced, “We’re going to another residence today. This morning I was contacted to direct the car to another part of the island.”

Quint’s eyes widened. “You haven’t told her yet? We made the change an hour ago.”

“Well, she seemed otherwise occupied and I’m telling her now. I’m sure she can handle it.” Was there true support in his voice? Or did she detect the slightest hint taunting? Years of overhearing her father’s business conversations had finely tuned her ears to listen to tone more than to words.

Helena flashed a smile at Joe then turned and briefly grasped Sofia’s wrist and said “Of course she can.” It was clear that Helena thought Joe was being a supportive mentor. At least Helena had faith in her.

By the time they reached the residence and made it through introductions to Castro, Sofia’s heart was sending blood coursing through her vessels so hard her hands trembled. They proceeded to the temperature controlled warehouse where the Caracciola had been delivered that morning. Sofia noticed several other choice automobiles, none appeared to have ever been driven. There had been much exclaiming over its beauty and value, and many congratulations for Raul Castro. After a while, only she Joe, and Castro remained. Joe was nodding her out of the warehouse but Castro spoke before she got to the door. “Joe, why don’t you leave us now? I’d like Miss Koury to tell me more about this lovely machine.” Joe looked thunderous but did as he was bidden.

Walking around the 1930 Caracciola 500k, she was all too aware that the continued success of the assignment hinged on this moment and what she chose to do. She pushed aside these thoughts; they were only causing her heart to beat faster. She tried with some success to recapture the calm certainty of an hour ago. She was also drawn to the machine and longed to be in its aura of legend. On impulse she said, “Would you like to go for a ride?” He stepped forward to the driver’s door with alacrity.

Sophia worked hard to open her door and seat herself without shaking with adrenaline and therefore alerting him to her nervousness. Castro’s face glowed with excitement and something else, trepidation? He glanced around. Sofia realized he was checking to make sure they were alone. Intrigued, Sofia allowed herself a longer look at Raul Castro’s face. Then it hit her. She knew that look. It was the expression of a school boy who was getting into mischief. He was checking to make sure his handlers and, Sofia thought, possibly his doctor, who had gone in with the others, weren’t around to stop him. This discovery steadied Sofia. It also gave her a certain amount of confidence that he must have some degree of exercise anaphylaxis. Why else would driving the car get a man with Castro’s power into trouble? She supposed the others could be worried about an explosive of some kind in the car but surely they would have thoroughly checked the vehicle before allowing it on the property. Suddenly, Castro turned to her, a blazing, triumphant look on his face. This situation must be unusual for him, even rebellious. She smiled back, a sly, confirming piece of coquetry. In that moment she knew how to confirm his condition, and wouldn’t need to worry about medicine bottles or documentation.

Raul Castro started the car. As a matter of fact he had to do it twice as his hand shook on the first try.
Oh, he is nervous,
thought Sofia.
Good.
He put the car into gear and eased it onto the dirt track. Sofia looked at the dash; it read thirty miles per hour. This would not do. She would be here forever trying to get him worked up enough to show any signs of the condition. By that time, all the handlers would be back. After a minute or two, Sofia said firmly as a school teacher, “Mr. President, this is a powerful car, and you are a powerful man. The two of you are magnets, why are you resisting?” Then, Sofia slid her foot over and jammed her toe on the accelerator over his foot, forcing him to shift up a few notches. The car was now going sixty five. Castro’s eyes were wide, his face taut. But his expression was still exultant. She hadn’t taken her foot off of the pedal and now turned to look at him. His eyes probed hers; silently daring, hoping she would do it. She did. Sofia pushed the pedal down still further and forced him to quickly go to the highest gear. Castro tilted his head skyward and nearly closed his eyes, Sofia thought, half fear, half bliss. When he glanced back at her, the communication had changed again. Sofia sensed a bit more anxiety this time.

They hit a rough patch of track and Caracciola skidded and bumped. His anxiety became more pronounced as he glanced at Sofia again. Relentless, Sofia pushed the pedal to the floor staring at him, daring him to cry out, to object. He didn’t. After a few long moments, they both looked down the track and gasped. Castro’s entourage was only three hundred feet ahead in the middle of the track yelling and waving their arms. Both Sofia and Castro belted an exclamation as they both slammed their feet on the brake; Sofia bruised his instep with the force. But, this was a race car and an antique. The car was meant for speed, not stopping. They were closing, two hundred feet. The ministers began to run but it was a closed track, they wouldn’t get over the seven foot wall in time, one hundred feet, and they were coming up on the men. Fifty feet, Sofia’s whole body trembled and shook with the vain effort of trying to push the brake further. The steering wheel locked. Three feet and the car finally skidded, swung to the side and careened onto two side wheels. For one precarious moment, the car teetered, deciding, and then righted itself to Sofia’s relief.

Covered in road dust she jumped out the car and whooped. She had never felt this good, this alive. She spun to address Castro who, she observed, was breathless and going blue around the lips and eyes. He regarded her for the briefest moment with undisguised admiration, lust and intimidation. She shook his hand which was, ironically, more bold than her actions in the car and said, “I knew this car was right for you. I knew it would respond to you.” As she let go, she let her hand caress his very slightly. She wondered if he would pick up on it. Seeing his face, she knew he had. She wanted an invitation back. If she could get him in the car again, for a longer period, on rough road, she was nearly certain that she could trigger an attack.

The moment was broken by Castro’s doctor reprimanding the president in rapid Spanish while gesticulating wildly. Castro paid little attention and kept his eyes on Sofia, though the political mask was back in place. After a few long moments, he allowed his doctor to pull him toward a large van and put him inside. Sofia noted that it must be equipped with extremely high end tires and shocks. As the van pulled away, her speculation was confirmed. Though on rough road, the van did not alter in the slightest from its smooth progress toward the estate.

THIRTEEN

During dinner on the
Mariana
Joe seethed as he held his cell phone out for Sofia. “For you.” He said curtly and almost dropped the phone before she could get a grip on it.
What could I have done now
? thought Sofia. Joe had already blasted her for the car scenario, though Quint and Helena overall thought it was brilliant. With a small inner smile she had to agree. It felt so good to really be contributing, to have success. Even Joe’s anger at her “vigilante behavior” couldn’t bring her down from that high.

After answering, she heard a deep, hoarse voice greet her. Not just any voice.
The
voice. Sofia nearly dropped the phone in surprise but recovered quickly. “Mister President, how nice to hear from you. How can I help you?”

“Miss Koury, I very much enjoyed our car ride yesterday. You are a spirited woman and I admire that.” Sofia scoffed at the notion that a near death experience was reduced to a “car ride”.

“I enjoyed it too. I did say that I knew you and that car were made for each other.”

“Yes, and I agree. I’d like to invite you to stay at my main residence. We will have more time to discuss the contracts if you are on site. I can say that my ministers and I will deal with you directly. Surely, your father will not object.”

Sofia was relieved; this had always been a risk in the plan. What if he had one of his staff call Koury Communications? What if he found out that they had no idea she was here? Sofia sighed. If she accepted his offer, that risk would be next to nothing; though, she knew Joe would be livid. She had already stolen most of his thunder and inadvertently shown him up. Well, no help for it.

“That is a very kind invitation Mr. President. I accept.” Castro asked her to join him for dinner the following evening and then to stay on through the next day to finalize the contracts. After ending the call, Sofia took a deep breath and turned to see three rapt faces before her.

She quickly told them about the invitation and her acceptance. Joe nearly turned purple. “Absolutely not. It’s far too dangerous.” Sofia suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Being blocked at every turn was becoming annoying.
He needs to watch his blood pressure
, Sofia thought.

“I can’t. I’d look like a fool and worse, weak.”

“Yes, you can. We’re trained operatives for God’s sake. We are smart enough to get naive trainees out of situations.”

“Joe!” Helena interjected. “You make her sound like some high schooler who is sneaking out.”

Joe turned his anger on her. “She may as well be. She-“

Helena held up a hand. “Stop this. She has proven her ability several times in highly intense situations. You’re beginning to sound like a protective father.” Sofia tried very hard to keep a triumphant gleam out of her eyes. Joe looked to Quint, hands out in supplication as if begging for someone to see reason.

“Quint, surely you agree with me. I mean, she hasn’t been in the field nearly long enough to handle something like this. What if she were to get in trouble? We wouldn’t be able to react fast enough. She can’t keep an attacker, or
more than one
attacker at bay long enough.”

Quint bent his head, thinking. After a few long moments he responded, “Joe, while I agree that it could be dangerous, I think she’s prepared. Just look at the evidence. She’s gotten closer to Castro than any of us. She has his confidence, enough to be trusted as a guest.”

Sofia had to suppress the urge to pull Quint in and ravish him for backing her up. Instead she settled for sending him a grateful smile.

Joe flinched at Quint’s reference to Sofia’s success as though he saw this comment as a barb aimed at his own performance. He turned to Helena, “Well obviously the man’s not thinking with his
brain
!” He then let out a string of curses in Spanish. Helena’s eyes were so wide in shock that Sofia could see white all around her irises. She turned to look at Quint who stood very, very still. His eyes flashed with anger. Sofia thought that if she touched him it would set off an explosion of nuclear proportions. Helena saw it too and addressed Joe. Sofia could tell she was making a massive effort to keep her voice under control.

“Joe, that was completely inappropriate. I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but I will not tolerate this treatment of me, Quint or Sofia. I understand your concerns, but we’re all adults and we’re all working toward the same goal.”

After a moment of silence Joe looked up from the table with a look of contrition and said; “Yes, of course you're right my love.” He took Helena’s hand and kissed her fingers. “I apologize, sincerely. I think this Cuban heat is getting to me. Or, maybe I’m getting too old for this game.” He then turned to Quint and shook his hand. “I apologize. You’re an asset to the team and there was no call for me to say those things.” Quint nodded and shook Joe’s hand but did not speak. Sofia noticed that the stony look only softened slightly. Then Joe covered the few feet to Sofia. “Sofia, I apologize for my harshness. I still think you shouldn’t go. I care about you and I don’t want to see you hurt. But, Helena’s right as usual. It’s your decision.”

Sofia nodded as they sat back down at the table. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ve already agreed and I think this will be an opportunity for us. I’m going ahead with it.”

A decisive look Joe’s face but was just as quickly replaced with the smooth look of concern. “I see. Well, I’ll comply with whatever measures Helena and Quint come up with. But for now, I think I need my bed and a very large glass of rum. Buenas noches.” Then, without turning to the others, he walked through the door towards the cabins. As Joe’s footsteps disappeared down the passageway, Sofia sat and let her breath out though she had not realized she was holding it.

Quint put his warm, solid hand on her arm and looked as though he would speak, but Helena began. “Sofia, we’ll take whatever countermeasures we can. We’ll set up surveillance shifts so that we can monitor you around the clock. We don’t have visual capabilities in the guest wing of the house but I’ll give you bugs for audio and then we have your tracker so chances are good that we’ll know if something is wrong. Joe’s right though, if something happens, it will be a few minutes before we can get to you. Are you sure you can handle it?”

Sofia tried not to gulp. In fact, she wasn’t sure, but there was no way she would go back now. Not after causing an argument with Joe, not after already giving her word. So, she replied the only way she could. “Yes, I’m ready. With you all looking after me, I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”

Quint squeezed her arm and let go. “Right then. With you staying there, the risk to you is higher, and the contract process is only going to take about a day especially since there will be more opportunity for discussion.”

Sofia saw that her round-the-clock presence did push the timeline. Even if she stretched out the negotiations, the contracts would be signed by tomorrow night. She addressed Helena and Quint. “So I need to find a way to get him by himself or trigger his condition before tomorrow night.”