“That was uncomfortable,” Raymond said. “And the sugar business? What was that all about?”
“My cover, Ramon. Everyone in Cuba might suspect I’m with the CIA, but I still need a cover. I buy sugar for a Mexican consortium. Actually, I’ve gotten pretty good at it considering I didn’t know anything about sugar when I started.”
“I must admit I’m impressed. There’s never a dull moment with you, it seems. One moment you’re with the CIA, and the next you’re a sugar buyer for a Mexican group.”
“You know who that major was?” Pepe said.
“No,” Raymond answered. “But he sure asked a lot of questions.”
“He’s the head of national security, reporting directly to Raul Castro.”
“What?” Raymond stopped abruptly, and a woman following behind slammed into him. She was blonde, shapely and was wearing tight white shorts. Out of the corner of his eye, Raymond saw her dive into the mass of humanity and vanish. She reminded him of Sonia. “He’s what?”
“Keep walking.” Pepe yanked his arm. “I don’t know what Major Teceira was doing here. Maybe he was checking airport operations. Or maybe he was checking you out.”
“Me?” Raymond’s stomach contracted into tight, cold knots. “Why me?”
Pepe didn’t answer. He charged ahead in silence, his head rotating like a lighthouse as his eyes scanned the crowd. Raymond’s heart beat like a high school band drum.
When they stepped onto the sun-drenched sidewalk outside, Pepe stopped and said, “He’s Sonia’s husband.” |
