Cuban Sun (16 page)

Sofia’s heart pumped violently, picking up a sound before her brain registered it. She froze and pressed against the rough stucco and stone wall. She heard it again, closer. It was nothing more than the sense of a shift in the air, the rustle of dead palm fronds and braced for the qualm of alarm down her spine. Instead, all that came was a calm focus. After a few moments of straining, listening and waiting, Sofia crept forward. She knew the drainage gate lay around the next curve in the wall.
Almost there
. The thought formed as half fact, half prayer. Once through, she could make her way down to the
Mariana
. Instinctively, she checked behind her. Nobody followed.

As Sofia turned, a large hand clapped over her mouth from behind and a strong forearm pinned her elbows to her side. Tired though she was, Sofia’s adrenaline glands went haywire. She stiffened and jerked. She brought her elbow up and thrust it back targeting her assailant’s solar plexus just as Quint taught her. He was ready for it though. He reared back and because the force of her thrust was weakened, it elicited no more than a grunt. She continued to grapple but stopped dead when he hissed, “Sofia, stop. It’s me.”

She spun on her heel and stared at Quint, barely more than a dark stain against the night sky. “Quint.” Her voice broke. It was all she could force out.

“Shhh. Come on.” He herded Sofia behind him and led her to the gate, keeping watch as she squeezed through the dog sized opening. She stood numb as Quint came through and stood before her. Her head swiveled back and forth, her eyes wide with alarm. No car.
How did Quint get here?
She thought as he began leading her to the street.

“Helena and Joe don’t exactly know that I’m here. I finished my shift on the screens but I was worried and wanted to be here, just in case. I heard a noise and came in to see if it was you. Obviously it was.” He stopped and gazed at her in the weak street light. It was the first time he had been able to see her properly. “My God Sofia.” Quint brought her closer to him, surprised by what he saw. “What happened?”

Sofia shook her head. She couldn’t talk about it just yet. Instead she nodded to the street and said, “We need to get out of sight. Where’s the car?” To hide her emotion, she looked away from Quint’s penetrating gaze under the guise of searching for a car. Quint narrowed his eyes at her. He wasn’t fooled, but kept silent. He turned and continued to lead her down the street and then behind a low palm. An old rusted motorcycle peeked from behind the branches. Quint and Sofia mounted the bike and, after checking for followers, Quint started the ancient machine and sped down the narrow alley toward the harbor.

Sofia was grateful for the roar of the engine which prevented conversation. She wanted a few minutes that wouldn’t involve thinking, planning or explanation. She knew she could trust Quint, but somehow she felt as though she’d let herself down with her missteps. First, she had made no progress on her task and didn’t even have a real plan. Then she had allowed herself to be caught off guard, without her weapons. Weapons that Helena had told her to carry at all times. She gave herself permission to wallow in these self-doubts for exactly one minute and then forced her mind to put it aside, difficult as that was. If she were to go back to the estate, which she planned to do, then she had to be ready for anything. She couldn’t do that if she were distracted by her doubts. She had to summon her strength to continue.

By the time Sofia noticed that they had pulled off the road and were headed toward an abandoned barn, Sofia had regained some control. Once in the barn, Quint turned off the engine and dismounted. The absence of engine noise and the long held quiet of the barn created a muffling effect in Sofia’s ears like someone had plugged them with cotton. Sofia dismounted, absorbing the comfort from the barn’s quiet earthiness. She knew why Quint had brought her here. He wanted to know what happened. He wanted to talk before they were both restricted by Joe and Helena’s presence. She was touched to know that he wouldn’t be able to hide his emotion in front of them.

She took a deep breath and faced him. His brown eyes locked on hers, showing alarm that vibrated through the rest of his body. He held her shoulders; his hands were tense as a bow string. She thought she only had to give him the slightest touch and she would hear the twang of the arrow’s release. “I need to know what happened. I picked up some strange chatter during my monitoring today and I’m worried that our pretext for you might be coming apart.” Sofia saw the play of emotions on his features, fear, anxiety and something else, deep and instinctive. She stood, breathing hard. Quint shook her slightly and said again “What happened? Tell me!” His anxious energy transferred to Sofia, thrumming through her, swirling in the center of her body.

Without warning, she lunged for him, her fingers twisted in his copper hair, her mouth seeking his. She felt a desperate need to release the anxiety, to release the arrow. He responded with equal need, forcing her back to the hay strewn floor. His hands moved over her body. He felt that he must envelop her, must possess her. If he could cover all of her, he could keep her safe. She raked his back and brought her hips to his, urging him. She was still only wearing her night shift that had torn at the shoulder and now exposed one full breast that seemed to glow in the waning moonlight. Slowly, Quint bent to press his lips to it. His kiss acted as a trigger for their joining though he held himself in check to avoid hurting her. He wanted to avoid tearing tender flesh that already had feared violence. His hesitance only fueled her urging. Sofia wrapped her legs around him forcing him to her. All at once, his restraint snapped and they both found the reassurance they had been seeking.

FIFTEEN

Sofia expected the
Mariana
to be dark at this time of night, or was it morning? However, lights dotted the hull indicating that Joe and Helena had indeed realized that Quint was gone. Sofia and Quint were assailed with questions the moment their feet hit the deck. After all that had happened, Sofia felt the questions swarming and stinging like hornets. Seeing this, Quint held up his hand, affecting a pause. “Sofia, why don’t you go change.” Then turning to Helena and Joe, “I’ll pour everyone a drink.”

In her stateroom, Sofia sank onto the bed. A wry smile played in the corners of her mouth. She had done this a few times since her arrival. She now felt this stateroom was a cocoon, her place of refuge from the storm, brief though the respite may be. After a moment of blissful silence, she dressed, tossing her nearly shredded nightgown into the trash. It pained her heart to see her mother’s heirloom lying in a heap. It was now useless though it affected her less than it would have before tonight. She didn’t think that she was forgetting her mother, but rather, attaching less emotion to objects. After all, her mother’s memory and advice had already helped her so much during the last few weeks; she didn’t need physical reminders any longer. Her mother was here, in the room, always with her.

With a deep breath she opened the stateroom door and stepped out into the storm. When she entered the living room, it seemed the effect of whiskey all around had calmed the storm to a minor gale. Quint handed her a tumbler and she sipped, letting the smooth amber liquid ease her throat before speaking. Sofia related the events of the evening, opting for an overview rather than the blow by blow she had given Quint while lying together on the hay tufted floor. After she finished, Quint laid a hand on hers briefly. She looked up and saw Helena’s face, alight with realization and understanding. Sofia unobtrusively removed her hand from Quint’s. Joe on the other hand looked resolute. He set his jaw and put his drink on the wood table with a clack.

“Well, that’s that then. We’re done. I don’t want anyone else hurt.” They all looked at Joe, disbelieving. Sofia spoke.

“We’re not necessarily done. We don’t know who ordered the attack. Yes, it could have been Castro, but it could have also been some other entity. My father does have a great deal of influence and power in the business world. That kind of stature makes enemies. If one of them heard that I was here representing the company, well, that’s like killing two birds with one stone isn’t it? They could harm my father’s business by ruining this deal and harm him personally by hurting me.”

Quint nodded. “She has a point. It could be a number of operatives, not just Castro. I think it’s unlikely that Castro ordered the attack. We didn’t have any pursuit which could mean that they don’t even know Sofia is gone. There’s a good chance that she could sneak back in and no one would be the wiser about what happened.”

Helena forestalled Joe’s protest by interjecting, “I agree. I don’t think there’s much evidence that Castro is behind this. Just by his actions and body language, I think he’s quite taken with Sofia. He’s not the type to think he needs to force a woman. He’ll be arrogant enough to think he can have her willingly.”

Joe shook his head. “I hear what you’re saying, but even if it’s not Raul, someone is trying to get to Sofia. It adds a level of danger and complexity that we can’t afford in an operation like this. We already have an inexperienced operative acting as primary, several blind spots in the estate and now someone is after one of the team. No, we can’t risk the operation. Getting discovered would endanger not only Sofia, but all of us.” Quint fidgeted with the napkin. Sofia could see he was agitated and wanted to speak. She discreetly put a hand on his knee, preventing any rash protests. The last thing Sofia wanted was another argument. She wanted the opportunity to go back, to finish. She wanted to prove to herself and to them that she could do this. Getting Joe spun up was not the way to get back in. She would need his support.

“Joe, I know you’re very concerned”, Sofia started. “And, the last thing I want is to put anyone in harm’s way. I appreciate that you’re trying to protect me.”

Joe wiped the table with his shirt sleeve, “Yes, I am. I’m protecting all of you. We’ll wrap up and leave this morning.”

Sofia nodded, thinking quickly. How could she get him to agree? What would sway him? Then, she had an inspiration and said, “I can certainly see the appeal of getting the hell out of town. But, didn’t you say that operatives have been trying to assassinate the Castro’s for well on fifty years?”

“Longer, what’s your point?”

She glanced at Helena who smiled briefly and nodded for her to continue, she was on the right track. “Well, what if we were the ones to finally do it? You have put so much of your time and expertise into this Joe. What if finally, after all these years, the credit were to go to you? You said you were thinking of retiring, doing something else. Wouldn’t this be a great end to a great career?”

Helena jumped in. “Think of it my love, the last assignment, and what an assignment! We can just up the security and get it done. We can do it in the next twelve hours. Right?” She looked to Sofia for confirmation. Sofia was confident, but not one hundred percent sure if she could complete her task in that time frame, but she would have to. There was no choice. So, she nodded once.

Helena continued, “See Joe, we have a plan, we have the opportunity.”

Joe furrowed his brows and picked up his glass and began swirling the dark gold whiskey. “That’s such a risk. You know better than most that plans rarely work the way you want them to. But still, to have this done…”

Quint seized the opportunity to press the case. “Joe, tomorrow morning I can go onsite and stay with Sofia almost constantly. We’ll say that since the negotiations are coming to a close, I’m there to pull all the documents together and wrap up the legal odds and ends. I’m sure they’d jump at the chance to have the process expedited.”

Joe thought for a long moment, his eyes looking into the swirling liquid, darting back and forth as if trying to divine an answer from its depths. He drained the whiskey and set it down again, the
tink
of the empty glass seemed to echo in the silence. “Alright Sofia, you have twelve hours.” Joe squinted at the greying sky, “If we can get her back to her room in the next forty five minutes or so, I think we’ll be ok. The estate doesn’t start the day until seven. That gives you two hours to get back, clean up the room and get ready.”

Quint nodded. “Got it.”

Helena stood and clasped Sofia’s hands. “For God’s sake be careful. We’ll be monitoring until we have our meetings, then we’ll be right inside the estate.” Sofia hugged Helena and quickly followed Quint to the old motor bike. As the city rushed by, she felt triumphant. Her handling of Joe worked without yelling or bloodshed. She could pull off one of the most important missions of the last fifty years.
If I don’t screw it up
, she thought.

When the soft knock at her door came at seven o’clock, Sofia was ready. Quint had escorted her to the room to ensure that the assailant was gone. It was so strange; the man was gone and had not touched any of her business or personal items. The contract papers were right where she had left them on the desk. Even the jeweled stiletto was still on the floor where it had fallen. The hair rose on the back of her neck. This meant the attack was intended for her personally, not as a proxy attack on her father. She didn’t mention this to Quint who seemed to either not have reached that conclusion, or not to have said anything. Given his protective nature, she thought he must not have picked up on it yet. Otherwise he would have hauled her out of the room. Still, she wanted to continue. She felt relatively safe; she handled herself well last night. Plus, Quint would be there and Joe and Helena would be joining her in the building shortly. She would get it done and get out.

The meetings went as planned, much to Sofia’s dismay. Several times, she attempted to orchestrate changes that would bring her closer to Castro but she had only seen him from the far end of the enormous meeting table. She had neither the opportunity nor rationale to speak to him, try as she might. She expressed her concerns to Helena when they spoke alone at lunch. Helena had turned to her with a somewhat exasperated look.