Spy in a Little Black Dress - By Maxine Kenneth Page 0,58
Emiliano, who did the same.
The two of them got into the truck cab, and Emiliano slowly pulled the vehicle out of the parking lot.
Several blocks away, they encountered a roadblock quickly thrown up to catch them or anyone else who had escaped from the Dance Academy. Traffic moved slowly as each vehicle approaching the checkpoint was stopped so the guards could check out those inside. Jackie felt her heart begin to beat at an accelerated rate.
Emiliano must have known what she was feeling because he said, “Easy, Jacqueline. They are looking for a man and a woman, not two grease-stained workmen in a truck. Try to remain calm. Don’t do anything to attract their attention and we’ll get through this.”
A grateful Jackie looked over at Emiliano, who appeared as serene as a Buddhist monk at meditation. She would use him as an example and try to put herself in the same frame of mind. It wasn’t easy, especially knowing what would probably happen to them if they were stopped and arrested. But Jackie did her best to control her heart rate and steady her breathing.
The line of cars moved slowly. But finally, it was their turn. Emiliano pulled up at the checkpoint and stopped the truck. A guard stood on either running board and looked into the cab, barely glancing at either Jackie or Emiliano.
The guard on Emiliano’s side brusquely asked him to open the rear door of the truck. Emiliano got out of the truck and went around to the back with the guard, leaving Jackie alone with the other guard. Instead of refusing to make eye contact, which she knew would make her seem suspicious, Jackie bravely looked the second guard right in the eye and gave him a tired-looking smile, just an average worker going home at the end of a very long day.
After what seemed like an eternity, Emiliano returned to the truck and got back in the driver’s seat. The guard waved them on; then he and the other guard went to inspect the next vehicle in line.
Once they were far enough away from the roadblock, both Jackie and Emiliano gave out a loud sigh of relief.
“That was a close one,” Emiliano said, taking off his cap and blotting the sweat on his forehead with the same greasy rag. Apparently, his Buddha-like calm had been a facade displayed for her benefit.
“We pulled it off,” said Jackie with a note of triumph in her voice. She felt incredibly grateful to Emiliano and, surprisingly, very close to him in that moment.
After he had been driving awhile, Jackie noticed that they were headed away from what she thought was the direction of her hotel and toward the outskirts of the city.
“Aren’t you taking me back to the Nacional?” she asked, a note of concern in her voice.
“No, this city has become too hot for us.”
“Where are we going, then?”
He turned to Jackie and fixed her with an intense look.
“You still want to meet him, don’t you?”
Jackie nodded vigorously. “Of course I do. But didn’t Sanchez capture him?”
“I’m sure Fidel got away. Like el gato, he has nine lives. And I didn’t see him in any of the trucks with the others. So have you ever heard of the expression ‘If the mountain won’t come to Muhammad, Muhammad must go to the mountain’?”
“Yes, and where will we find this mountain?”
“In the Sierra Maestra of Oriente Province. Fidel’s home.” He paused for effect. “And mine as well.”
“But what about Sanchez? Won’t he order his men to follow us?”
Emiliano glanced at the road before turning to Jackie.
“Where we’re going, the country is so mountainous and his men so spread out that there’s very little chance of us encountering them. Or them encountering us, for that matter.”
Oh, well, Jackie thought, settling back in her seat and kicking at the food wrappers gathered at her feet. She should have gotten used to this by now, having to flee for her life and leaving all her belongings back at some hotel. But this time, there would be no one to bring her suitcase to her, and she found herself beset by the age-old question that haunts every woman, no matter what her circumstances: What am I going to wear?
XIV
They drove out of the city headed east through Matanzas Province. It was dusk, and Emiliano steered the truck with the sun sinking behind them and the darkness falling ahead. Leaving Havana, they had encountered no further roadblocks, which meant that either they had gotten out