Casa de la Rosa, Cuba
For the next few hours, Erin had no time alone.
She needed to send off a message to the backup team in Santa Rosa, plus she wanted to explore the camp. In Miami, she’d studied the layout, but that wasn’t the same as walking the grounds herself. Besides that, she wanted a better look at the men who’d first brought this place to the CIA’s attention.
However, after leaving her father, she’d been intercepted by a couple of veteran volunteers, who’d insisted she join them for dinner. She couldn’t refuse without arousing suspicion, so she’d gone along. There was, of course, the added benefit of talking to people who’d been around for a few months. As Bill Jensen had insisted, Erin was on a fact-finding mission, and whether any of the DFL volunteers were involved in Joe’s disappearance or not, they might know something that could help her.
After dinner, she joined the other seven women in her cabin, and as the evening wore on, they exchanged idle conversation. She and Sandy were the newbies, and everyone wanted the details on how and why they’d decided to volunteer with DFL. Like Sandy, all had been included in the information Erin had studied in Miami. Which made Erin think again about Jean Taylor’s absence from those files.
Since the other woman hadn’t made an appearance since leaving Emilio’s office, Erin asked, “Is Jean Taylor in the other cabin?”
“Far from it,” answered Nancy, one of the volunteers. “The doctors have rooms upstairs in the clinic.”
“Doctor?” Wondering if she’d missed something, Erin glanced at Sandy. “I thought Jean worked in the office.”
“Me, too,” Sandy replied.
Nancy let out an abrupt laugh. “Hardly. She was just covering for me today while I was at dinner. We knew you two were coming in, and someone had to show you around.” She shrugged. “Didn’t she tell you?”
“Well, you know. . .” Erin pasted a smile on her face, hiding her heightened interest. “I was really tired from traveling.” She again glanced at Sandy, who’d already lost interest. After all, what did it matter? Unless, like Erin, you were watching for things out of place. “It probably went right over my head.”
Of course, that wasn’t it at all. Jean had let them believe she was part of the office staff. Which was odd. She had to know they’d find out she was a doctor, so why not mention it? Especially when Erin had specifically asked if Jean was a volunteer. That, combined with her absence from the DFL files, bothered Erin. Or maybe she was just being paranoid, looking for dark motives where none existed. Either way, she obviously needed to look more closely at Jean Taylor.
The conversation in the cabin, however, had moved past Jean as the women started settling in for the night. Erin joined them, biding her time until everyone was in bed with the lights out. Then she headed for the restroom, her PC device in her pocket. Inside one of the stalls, she turned it on and pressed her thumb to the scanner that would read her fingerprint and change the device’s mode of operation. Then she typed.
Have arrived safely. Accommodations good.
In case of intercept, it was purposely innocuous, a prearranged message to let her backup team know she was in place. They’d report to the Command Center in Miami and respond with another preset “All clear.” She waited. Several minutes later, seven words scrolled across the tiny screen.
Enjoy your stay. Wish we were there.
Which told her they were nearby and waiting for her next communication tomorrow. Or the emergency signal that would result in her immediate extraction.
She returned to her bed and crawled in, her mind mulling over the possibilities surrounding Jean Taylor and the nameless men who seemed to watch everything and everyone in the camp. She agreed with the agent in Santa Clara, the men’s purpose was very unclear. They could, as Erin had thought earlier, be PNR, but she didn’t think so. No uniforms. No visible guns. Why pretend to be something they weren’t? The Cuban government wasn’t shy about using police power to monitor and intimidate its citizenry. It certainly wouldn’t hesitate to keep foreigners in line. No, these men were something else. The questions were what, and who held their chains.
As for Jean, Erin knew there could be perfectly reasonable explanations for everything surrounding the other woman. Neither Jean’s absence from the DFL files nor her failure to mention she was a doctor meant anything. Under normal circumstances, Erin wouldn’t have questioned either. Unfortunately, these weren’t normal circumstances. A man was missing. So Erin planned to take nothing at face value, and thus find out all she could about Jean Taylor.
Tonight, though, Erin was going exploring.
She waited, fifteen, twenty minutes to give everyone time to fall sleep. Then she got up quietly and headed for the door.
“Are you okay?” came a whispered voice in the darkness.
Damn. It was Sandy.
“I can’t sleep,” Erin replied, since obviously this was the other woman’s problem. “Too excited and too hot, I guess. I’m just going to go out and get some air.”
“Are you sure it’s safe? I’ll come with you if you want.”
“No, go to sleep,” Erin said. “I’ll be fine.”
“Well . . .” Sandy hesitated. “Okay, but don’t go far.”
“I’ll be right out here.” Erin stepped outside, hoping Sandy wouldn’t decide to follow. Just in case, Erin sat on the small wooden platform fronting the cabin, giving Sandy a few minutes to act, or not.
The night was beautiful, clear and warm, with the sweet scent of tropical flowers floating on the air. A soft breeze rustled the palms, while overhead, feathery clouds skittered across a display of stars that the camp’s few lights did little to block. Like the people who worked here, the camp itself seemed to slumber. Outside each of the four cabins, a low-wattage bulb pushed back the shadows. More dim lights outlined the clinic, and from the downstairs windows came the faint glow of night-lights. Other than that, the camp was utterly dark, the mess tent and office a smudge against the dark woods behind them.
Erin found it hard to believe anything sinister could happen in such a place.
After a few minutes, she figured Sandy had either fallen asleep, or at least didn’t plan on joining her fellow volunteer outside. So Erin stood, stepping away from the light. Again she waited, listening and watching, for sound or movement that would indicate someone unseen had noticed her. At the count of twenty she slipped deeper into the shadows beside the cabin and made her way to the darkness of the woods beyond. Stopping, she looked back, the inky night around her making the camp seem bright by comparison.
Nothing moved.
Okay. Time to explore. On her own terms.
Picking her way along the edge of the woods, she kept the clinic in sight and worked her way toward the front of the camp. As she rounded the front corner of the building, she saw the men. Going still, she willed herself to blend into the darkness.
Two of them stood, leaning against the railing. She could just make out their dark forms and the glow of their cigarettes. Carefully, she moved a little closer. No words, but the murmur of low voices reached her. Still, she couldn’t tell if they were the same men she’d seen earlier in the day and couldn’t risk moving any closer. One thing was definitely different.
They were armed.
So, no visible weapons was a daytime thing, no doubt for the benefit of the volunteers. At night, however, automatic weapons were on display. Tonight anyway. But since she picked up no sense of urgency or tension from the guards, she guessed tonight was no different than any other.
She also noticed one other thing: a light upstairs in the front corner room. Her father’s office. So, she and the armed men weren’t the only ones awake. Interesting. For now, though, she put that thought aside and kept her attention on the guards.
Once confident they hadn’t seen her, she fell back, a dozen feet or more into the woods. Now the clinic was barely visible, just a flicker of light through the trees as she again picked her way through the underbrush. This far into the woods, the going was more difficult. Branches pulled and scratched at her legs, roots caught at her feet.
Finally, she reached the road bisecting the woods and connecting the plantation yard to the outside world. Across the open expanse, and several hundred yards closer to the clinic, was her objective: a small one-story house that might have once belonged to the estate’s caretaker.
She’d noticed it earlier when she’d first arrived. It had looked empty then, possibly unused, but not now. The wash of light. The raucous male voices drifting on the night air. The shadows moving across the open windows. So Casa de la Rosa’s unofficial guards had claimed the bungalow for their own. Not a bad place to keep an eye on all comings and goings.
Erin wanted a closer look.
To do that, however, she needed to cross the road and risk someone spotting her. The only other alternative was to go back and circle the entire camp via the woods, coming at the building from the other side. Unfortunately, that would take time she didn’t have. She figured it was already close to midnight, and picking her way through the woods in the dark was a slow process. She needed to get back to her cabin before Sandy, or someone else, noticed her absence.
She’d have to take her chances.
Inching closer to the main road and away from the house, she watched to make sure no one was outside or looking out a window. Then, she sprinted across the road. On the other side, she crouched behind a clump of oleander bushes, listening for any sign she’d been spotted.
She counted to twenty. Twice. Silence.
Only then did she straighten and allow herself to breathe normally. On the move again, she used the brightly lit cottage to pull her through the midnight woods. As she got closer, the voices inside grew louder, almost jovial, masking any sound she might make. At the edge of the tree line, she again hunkered down to think out her next move.
She wanted a look inside.
She didn’t know how many men she was dealing with, much less why they were here. If she could at least get a better idea of their numbers, it might indicate the seriousness of the threat. Of course, she wouldn’t turn down an overheard word or two that would give her some real information. However, that, she suspected, happened only in the movies.
So, she’d start with the numbers inside the house.
Unfortunately, a wide swath of brush and trees had been cleared around the structure, eliminating the natural cover the woods provided. As she’d done with the road, she gauged her chances of crossing unseen to the window. This was a far riskier proposition. If she was caught here, there would be no explaining her presence.
Before she could decide, however, two men approached the bungalow. Like those on the porch, they carried automatic weapons. Only these two moved with a purpose.
Erin pressed herself to the ground.
They entered the house, and the sounds from inside changed. She still couldn’t make out the words, but the laughter stopped, and she detected an element of command in the voices. Chairs scuffled against wood floors, she heard muttered responses, and then four men left the cabin and headed off across the camp.
Erin sprang to her feet. Keeping to the woods, she circled the clearing around the cottage, her eyes fixed on the four men. They walked quickly, however, unhindered by the underbrush and darkness that slowed her. Passing the clinic, they seemed headed for the converted stables. Briefly, she saw a flicker of light at their feet. A flashlight. Then, the men vanished. One minute she’d been cursing the growing distance they’d managed to put between themselves and her, the next, they were gone.
“Damn.” She didn’t want to lose them.
She picked up her pace, despite the chances of tripping on an unseen root or branch. They must have entered the office or another area of the stable. One of the storerooms, perhaps.
The clinic fell away behind her.
It was darker here, without the blur of lights edging the woods to her right. But she must be close. The office was only a few hundred yards behind the main house.
Suddenly she stumbled onto two feet of cleared space.
She stopped abruptly, and then scrambled back beneath the shelter of the trees. In the darkness she’d almost missed it: a hard-packed and obviously well-used path. Strange that she hadn’t seen it earlier in the day.
So, maybe the men hadn’t gone into the stables.
She stood a moment, the path disappearing deeper into the woods pulling at her. She couldn’t follow it. She knew that. Not tonight. With no light or weapon, she’d be walking into the unknown, taking a foolish risk. Besides, just because the path existed didn’t mean the men had taken it. They could be back at the stables as she’d first thought.
She was tempted, though. So very tempted.
In the end, reason won out. She’d investigate this path, but she’d come back better equipped. For now she followed the edge of packed dirt toward camp, to where it dumped her out behind the office. She realized then why she hadn’t seen the path when she’d arrived. It wasn’t hidden exactly, but unless you knew the trail was there or happened to circle the old stables, you’d never see it.
Not forgetting the possibility that the men had gone inside, she studied the stables for several minutes. No lights shone in any of the windows, not even a flicker of a flashlight. It wasn’t conclusive evidence by a long stretch. Still . . .
She glanced back at the path into the woods. Something told her she’d find answers at its dark end.
Tomorrow.