The Sniper and the Wolf

59

It was well after midnight, and Paolina was curled up in the crook of Crosswhite’s arm, running her fingers through the dark hair on his chest by the light of a candle. He was thinking impossible things about an impossible future in Havana when she raised up onto her elbow and looked into his eyes.

“Me ves como una puta?” she asked. Do you see me as a whore?

He combed his fingers through her hair and smiled. “I see you as the most beautiful girl in the world.”

She smiled back and kissed him. “How long will you be in Havana?”

He shrugged, the smile plastered to his face. “How long would you like me to be here?”

She curled back up in the crook of his arm. “How long, Daniel?”

“A few days,” he said. “Maybe a little longer.”

“Will I see you again before you leave?”

“Every night that you’re available.”

She raised back up, cracking a grin. “Then I’ll be available every night.”

“Good,” he said, pulling her down and kissing her. “You don’t have any regular clients that are going to be mad?”

She shook her head, looking sad for the first time. “While you’re here, can we pretend there are no other clients… that I’m someone else?”

He sat up against the wall and took her into his arms. “I don’t want to pretend you’re someone else. I want to know you… everything about you.”

“Will you stay the night?”

“Your father won’t be upset if I’m still here in the morning?”

She shook her head. “Not about you. He’s never drunk with anyone else who’s come here — never made friends.”

“This is hard for me. I’ve never…” He shook his head. “It’s very different for me.”

“I understand. But I have to survive, to help take care of my family.”

“It’s nothing about you,” he said. “It’s that I’m embarrassed in front of your parents.”

“Okay. But it’s not necessary.”

They were in the midst of making love a second time when his cellular buzzed on the table beside the bed.

“Shit,” he said in English. “Ernesto’s the only one with this number.” He picked up the phone and said, “Bueno?”

“Señor? This is Ernesto.”

“Yeah, Ernie. What is it?”

“I told Fernando to keep his eyes open while I was on break. He says two men came to the hotel asking about you. He said they described you and wanted to know if you had checked into the hotel. He said they looked Cuban but spoke with a Miami accent.”

“Okay, Ernie. Where are they now?”

“I think maybe they’re going to Paolina’s house.”

Crosswhite got out of bed fast. “Why do you think that?”

“Because they asked where you had gone, and Fernando was afraid to lie to them, so he told them you left in a taxi — but nothing more. Then they asked him where to find the cabstand. I’m sure they are going to question the driver.”

“How long ago was that?”

“About ten minutes.”

“If you had to guess, Ernie, how much longer before they show up here?”

“At Paolina’s? Maybe twenty minutes. Is there anything I can do?”

“Keep your eyes open, buddy, and call me if you hear anything else.”

Crosswhite put down the phone and reached for his pants. “You’d better wake your father, sweetheart.”

Paolina sat up in the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Wake your father,” he said gently. “You all need to go to a neighbor’s house for the night. There’s very little time.”

Paolina left, and Duardo came into the room a minute later looking concerned. “What is going on?”

“I work for the CIA,” Crosswhite said. “Two men are coming here to kill me — Americans. They have no interest in your family, but if I’m not here, they’ll hurt Paolina to find out where I’ve gone. You need to take your family to a neighbor’s house and let me deal with them when they arrive.”

Paolina’s father nodded his head solemnly. “I knew you were CIA when I first saw you, but I allowed you to stay. Will they have guns, these men?”

Crosswhite let out a sigh. “I can almost guarantee it.”

“I’ll send the women to my sister-in-law’s house, but I’m staying.”

“No, you can’t risk your life like that. You don’t even know me.”

“This is my house,” Duardo said, “and you are my guest. I’m staying.” He went into the other room, telling his wife to take the children and leave right away.

Paolina came back in two minutes later and put her arms around Crosswhite. “I’m scared for you.”

“I’m scared too, but not for myself. You have to go right now.” He kissed her hair and held her at arm’s length. “I’ll be fine. Go now.”

She disappeared out the door with her mother and the girls.

Crosswhite stepped into the kitchen, and Duardo appeared from the back of the house holding a fourteen-inch WWII-era M1 rifle bayonet made by Union Fork and Hoe.

“This belonged to my father. He fought in Castro’s revolution. The government took away his rifle years ago. If we can kill these two pendejos, I have friends who can dispose of the bodies. Calling the police would be very bad for all of us.”

“Hopefully, you won’t need to get involved.” Crosswhite put out his hand. “I probably have a better idea how to use that thing than you do.”

“Do you like my daughter?” Duardo asked.

“Yes, I do. It’s too bad that—”

“She would make you a good wife; give you beautiful children.”

Crosswhite shook his head. “I’m no good for any woman. Can I have the bayonet?”

Duardo took an old M1917 .45 caliber Colt army revolver from beneath his guayabera shirt. “This was my father’s too. We’re not allowed guns in Cuba, so I’ve kept it hidden.” He handed the revolver to Crosswhite.

Crosswhite opened the gate and saw that it held only five cartridges. “I don’t suppose you have the sixth bullet?”

Duardo shook his head. “Those five are all I have — and they’re very old.”

Crosswhite closed the gate and stuck the revolver down the front of his pants. “If they’ve been kept dry, they’ll be fine.”

“So what now?” Duardo asked.

“Have a seat at the table to wait,” Crosswhite said. “I’ll be in Paolina’s room. When they arrive, they’ll knock at the door and ask to see her. They’ll be polite but firm. All you have to do is let them in and tell them you’re going to wake her up. Then go into the back of the house, and I’ll handle it from there.”