Текст книги "Jack Taggart Mysteries 7 - Book Bundle"

Автор книги: Don Easton

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Текущая страница: 48 (всего у книги 141 страниц)

chapter eleven

“Assistant Commissioner Isaac will see you now, Staff.”

Quaile nodded curtly to the secretary and strode into Isaac’s office. He saw Isaac gesture to a chair and sat down.

“Good morning,” said Isaac. “Update me on this file involving travel to Costa Rica.”

“Yes, sir. Corporal Taggart and Constable Secord left yesterday. Liaisons were arranged and the Costa Rican police are accommodating. The two Russians are flying out at five o’clock this afternoon. Corporal Taggart and Constable Secord will assist with coordinating the surveillance with the police down south when the Russians land.”

“No indication of who the Russians are meeting?” asked Isaac.

“No, sir. Not at this time.”

“What about the Vietnamese? These Tran brothers.... Any indication they are going?”

“No, sir.”

“At least on this venture, it does not appear that Corporal Taggart has any personal issues—or potential vendettas,” mused Isaac.

“Last week I did his performance evaluation,” said Quaile. “I must say, it was the poorest assessment I have ever been forced to give anyone.” Quaile saw the raised eyebrow that Isaac cast in his direction. Was I wrong to ... if he doubts my judgement!

“I told you to keep an eye on him,” said Isaac, “but I expect you to treat him fairly.”

“It was fair, sir” said Quaile hurriedly. “The man is a low-life. Shows up to work in the morning with bags under his eyes. Unkempt appearance. Obviously likes to party all night. He lacks initiative to learn new things or apply himself to assignments that I have tried to give him.”

Isaac did not reply.

“Are you questioning my judgement?” asked Quaile, nervously.

Isaac stared at him for a moment before answering, “No, I am simply ensuring that he is being treated fairly.”

“Well, I certainly stand by my assessment of him. If it wasn’t for this investigation on the Russians, I would recommend his immediate transfer but with Deputy Commissioner Simonson calling me and the Commissioner’s personal interest, I decided to wait until the investigation is over.”

“Paul called you from Ottawa?” asked Isaac in surprise.

“Yes, sir,” replied Quaile, feeling somewhat self-important. “It is highly confidential. These two Russians are connected to a major international investigation. Involves corruption. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. It just sort of slipped—well, besides, I know ... I mean, obviously it is appropriate for you to know ...”

Quaile quit talking when Isaac held up his hand for him to stop. He waited and listened quietly as Isaac dialled. From snippets of conversation, Quaile realized he had been duped and his ears turned crimson.

When Isaac hung up, he turned to Quaile and said, “Your alleged call from Ottawa was bogus.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Quaile. “I gathered that from what I heard.”

“And you didn’t suspect anything?”

“Taggart was in the office when I received the call,” stammered Quaile. “How could I? I even remember seeing the area code. It was Ottawa—”

“Likely had a friend do it.”

“Sir, this is terribly embarrassing. For a member to pull a stunt like this, well—”

“I warned you to keep an eye on him,” said Isaac. “There is something, however, that we need to consider.”

“Sir?”

“It would appear that young Jack Taggart is risking his career on the fact that the Russians are worth it. It will be interesting to see the results. Keep quiet about this for now. Give it a week or two and see how all this pans out. We’ll deal with the phone call later, although I doubt we could ever prove that he was behind it.”

“Yes, sir. Like I said, if you had any doubts about my judgement in regards to his assessment, this incident just goes to highlight the fact that—”

“You can go now, Staff.”

Moustache Pete and the Fat Man were both jovial as they checked their baggage at the Delta Airlines counter in the Vancouver International Airport. Their demeanour and self-confidence changed completely just as they were entering the security check-in.

“Hey, comrades!”

Both men turned in surprise and were partially blinded by the flash of a camera. Both were too startled to say anything as the man with the camera turned and hurried away.

The following day, Jack and Laura watched through the tinted windows of a van parked on the main street in Coco Beach. With them was a plainclothes member of the Fuerza Pública. This was the name of the Costa Rican police force and the policeman assigned to work with them, Eduardo, spoke English.

“Your two men,” said Eduardo, “They are very nervous.”

It was a point that Jack and Laura had already observed. The Russians had constantly been looking around them ever since they got off the plane. After checking in to the Hotel Coco Verde, they changed into shorts and singlets went across the street and had lunch at a Cajun-style restaurant, where they sat talking in hushed voices.

The Russians were watched as they finished lunch and took the five-minute stroll down the main street that led directly to the beach. Most tourists stared at the array of gift shops and local crafts, but the Russians seemed more interested in looking at people’s faces.

When they arrived at the beach, they turned right and trudged through the cocoa-coloured sand.

Jack and Laura discreetly followed behind, using an abundance of coconut trees farther back from the beach as cover while Eduardo leap-frogged ahead on a road running parallel to the beach that was obscured by buildings and vegetation.

The Russians arrived at the end of the beach and climbed up and stood on some large rock formations jutting out into the ocean. They paused to look back down the beach and Jack was relieved that there was nobody in sight to make them more paranoid.

“These guys are really heated up,” said Jack, passing the binoculars to Eduardo, who had now abandoned the van.

“Yes, it is hot,” said Eduardo. “Canada. Mucho frio.”

“Yes, very cold in Canada,” said Jack.

“I think they are fight with each other,” said Eduardo, peering through the binoculars.

Jack looked and could see the Fat Man shaking his head and looking at Moustache Pete, who was waving his arms and gesturing in all directions. The Fat Man handed a cellphone to Moustache Pete who took it and flung it far into the ocean.

“Shit! We’re burned,” said Jack.

“Yes, sun very hot,” said Eduardo.

Following their stroll down the beach, the Russians used an Internet facility before returning to their hotel, where they spent the rest of the day drinking and lounging about the hotel pool.

Eduardo attempted to track the Russians’ Internet activity on the computer, but told Jack and Laura that it had all been deleted and therefore was unable to retrieve anything.

The next two days passed and, with the exception of another visit to the Internet facility, the Russians did little of interest. They did appear to be more relaxed and now drank copious amounts of Imperial beer while sampling the services of several different prostitutes.

At no time did they appear to meet with anyone of interest—a fact Jack was all too conscious of as he continued to delay calling Quaile to debrief him. Eventually he knew he could delay no longer. He left Laura with Eduardo and went to his room. He found that the phone lines were not working, but after a twenty-minute delay and some apologies from the hotel switchboard, he was able to connect.

“So they’re just down there on a holiday!” exclaimed Quaile.

“Something has made them paranoid,” said Jack.

“So you’re telling me you screwed up the surveillance?”

“The Costa Rican police have been good. Professional enough not to have burned us. Something else must ...”

“So you’re saying they’re just partying and acting like tourists. Obviously then, they weren’t up to anything in the first place.”

“At the moment they’re not, but ....” A knock on Jack’s door interrupted him and he said, “Hang on, someone’s at my door.”

Laura was quick with the news. “When you left they went up the street to a place called De La Costa Travel Agency. Eduardo just found out they booked a flight to Cuba. They leave tomorrow and fly to Havana. The agent tried to book them a hotel, but they said they would find one when they arrived. They’re booked to come back to Costa Rica, arriving in San Jose five days later and will then head back to Canada.”

Jack relayed the news to Quaile as Secord stood next to him, listening.

“Where do you plan on going on holidays next? Spain? Forget it. You and Secord be on the next plane available back to Vancouver. You’re finished with this scam!”

Jack didn’t reply, his mind racing to find a solution. He knew Quaile wouldn’t allow him to pursue the investigation any further. Phone the Cuban police? They would probably think it was a hoax. Or at the very least, contact Ottawa—and eventually Quaile. Nope, this has to be personal.

“Did you hear me, Taggart?”

“Staff, I’m feeling really burnt-out. I’ve got a lot of annual leave to use before year’s end. I’d like to take a week off and stay here. I’ll pay for it myself. Okay with you?”

A week off, thought Quaile, remembering the short time frame that Isaac mentioned as a deadline to get results. “Go ahead. It’s your money. You won’t exactly be missed around here.”

Laura grabbed the phone from Jack’s hand and said, “The same goes for me. I’ll be back in the office when Jack is.”

“Suit yourself, but realize I’ll be checking every penny of your expenses when you get back. As of right now, you’re on your own money.”

As soon as Laura hung up, Jack said, “Thanks, but no! It’s my neck on the chopping block, there’s no need to put yours there as well.”

“Forget that!” said Laura. “We’re partners. It seems to me I’ve had to remind you that before. Quit trying to cut me out of things. This affects me, too. If we don’t get results and go home empty-handed you’ll end up being transferred. That will leave me to go begging to Staffing to be transferred as well. Who knows where I’ll end up.”

“But this could be expensive. I don’t ...”

“From here, it won’t be that expensive.”

Jack felt the knot in his stomach. “Thanks, Laura. I really mean that, friends like you are hard to come by, but ...”

“Good friends are hard to come by. Wouldn’t you do the same for me?”

Jack sighed. “You know I would.”

“Enough said. I’m going and if you want to join me, you’re welcome.”

“If I want to join you!”

“Separate rooms, of course.”

Jack smiled as he envisioned trying to wrestle Laura off the plane. He looked at her and said, “If we’re caught, it could end both our careers.”

Laura laughed and said, “Compared to other things we’ve done? Come on, this sounds like a cakewalk. We’re not Americans, so it’s not illegal for us to go there. What we do on our time off is our own business.”

“We won’t be able to do it without help from the Cuban police. We’ll need them, otherwise we’re liable to lose them as soon as they leave the airport.”

“Yeah, so we tell the locals and ask for their help.”

Jack put his hand on Laura’s shoulder and said, “Think about it. Cuba is a communist country. Going there and contacting them without first getting permission from Ottawa would end our careers. If we did that in the States, we might get away with a slap on the wrist, but Cuba is different.”

“Guess we’d better not get caught. I’ve never been to Cuba before. I’d like to see it.”

Jack smiled and lowered his hand. “I haven’t been there either. I heard the Cubans are really friendly. We’d better hustle. Cash only.”

Laura nodded in agreement.“No paper trail.”

On the last red-circle day, Hang had been tortured from items out of the cardboard box. Now, a day later, she held her hand over one eye, hoping to ease the pain as she squinted at the calendar.

Today was marked with another red circle. She had the dates memorized, but kept hoping she had somehow made a mistake. That the circles would magically be gone. They weren’t.

Will he hurt me—or bring me a warm meal?

After today, it was five days away until the next date that was circled. Is he giving my body time to heal?

Pops had made that circle extra thick as he had gone round and round with the red felt marker several times on the calendar while grinning at her.

She wondered at the significance of this particular circle—and then she knew.

That is when Linh arrives!

She slowly and painfully eased herself off the foam mattress and took the top off the toilet tank and stared inside for a long time, trying to build her courage. It is the only possible way to get a message out. I must!

A creak of the passage door opening told Hang she would have to wait. She quickly replaced the lid and stood, shaking uncontrollably as she stared at the cardboard box.

chapter twelve

Quaile’s briefing with Isaac was short.

“It appears that the Russians aren’t up to anything. They’re just down there partying and laying around by the pool. I told Taggart to return, but now he’s begging for time off. He’s stressed and can’t handle the pressure.” “Stressed?” asked Isaac, suspiciously. “With the situations he has been in, most members would have flipped out—but he’s always remained cool. Are you sure?”

“He told me so. I bet it’s over the bogus call he arranged. Probably thought about it later and realized I wasn’t the sort to be fooled for long. It confirms my assessment of him.”

“Corporal Taggart has always been right in the past. I question how he does things, but it is not like him to go running off on a wild goose chase. Are you sure the Russians aren’t up to something?”

“Certainly doesn’t appear so. Taggart and Secord both have annual leave coming and asked to take a few extra days off while they’re there. Knowing how deceitful he can be ... and after he complained of being burnt-out, I decided it was prudent to okay his little holiday. Otherwise I could see him coming back and putting in for six months’ stress leave or something.”

Isaac sat quietly for a moment, one hand unconsciously rubbing the top of the Bible on his desk while his mind ruminated over what he knew about Jack. Or what I think I know ...

“Sir?” interjected Quaile. “Perhaps now would be an opportune time to have Staffing find him a uniform position somewhere. If your past suspicions about him are valid and—I mean, I’m sure they are valid, it would place him in a position where he could be more easily monitored.”

Isaac nodded, as if in agreement, but said, “Sometimes good investigations still go astray, not that I’m condoning his trip to Costa Rica. Also, we’ll never prove he was responsible for your bogus call from Ottawa. Saying he’s stressed ... time off ... what else is he up to?”

“Sir, I don’t think he is up to anything other than going down there and wasting tax dollars.”

“Give it another couple of weeks to see if anything comes of this investigation. See what happens when the Russians return. We might discover that Corporal Taggart is doing something more serious than making bogus phone calls.”

“Such as?” asked Quaile.

“I don’t know, but with him, it usually makes headlines. Keep an eye on him.”

“And if two weeks pass and the investigation falls flat?” asked Quaile.

“Then he’s back in uniform.”

Quaile smiled. Now I know I did the right thing by allowing him to take a week off ...

Jack and Laura waited at the assigned gate in the San Jose Airport to board their flight to Havana. The area was packed with passengers, which Jack was glad to see. The only flight they could get was the same one the Russians were on, and it was now three hours late.

Eduardo had seen to it that the Russians would be seated at the back of the plane, where they would board first and get off last. He also gave Jack a note written in Spanish to pass on to the captain flying the plane. The note expressed the need for discretion and also the urgent need for Jack to talk to the Cuban police about the two Russian passengers who were the criminals that Jack and Laura were following.

“It will not be a problema,” Eduardo assured them. “Every plane from Cuba has its own security officers to make sure nobody, like members of the crew, escapes from Cuba. They make sure only the correct passengers get off. You will have no problems contacting the police.”

Jack began to feel uneasy. Will Laura and I ever leave Cuba after this?

“Fat Man is going to the washroom again,” whispered Laura.

Both Jack and Laura held newspapers up to their faces as Fat Man sauntered past.

“With the amount of rum he had for lunch, I doubt he can see past his feet,” Jack said.

Eventually the boarding call was made and Jack and Laura found themselves sitting in a crowded and cramped Russian-built Yak-42 that smelled of aviation fuel.

Jack waited until they were twenty minutes into the five-hour flight before he handed the note to a stewardess. She smiled sweetly and said she would give it to the captain. Moments later, Jack and Laura saw two husky-looking men dressed in suits come up to them. One bent over and whispered, “Policia? Canada?”

Jack nodded and both he and Laura showed their police identification. The one man handed both pieces of identification to his colleague.

“Passports,” the man whispered again.

Jack and Laura handed him their passports. Both men headed for the cockpit with all the documents. Neither were seen again until the plane landed in Havana.

As soon as Jack and Laura stepped from the plane, they were met by eight men, none of whom appeared to speak any English. Jack’s limited knowledge of Spanish also seemed to fall on deaf ears.

They were quickly escorted past the crowds and up to the head of one of several long lineups leading to the immigration arrival counters, where they waited momentarily as the customs officer examined the passport of a man in front of them.

Jack saw her examine the passport carefully and, after a couple of routine questions, she stamped a separate piece of paper that was placed inside the passport. This document would be removed from the passport when the person left Cuba. This was standard treatment for any tourist and was meant to protect American visitors from being identified in their own country as having broken the American law by travelling to Cuba.

Jack and Laura stepped forward. Their escorts maintained control of their documents. This time there were no questions and the customs officer quickly completed the documentation process. Jack and Laura were separated and each put into small rooms located behind the immigration counters.

Jack studied the room. Similar to our own interrogation rooms. Two chairs ... a table against a wall. The minutes ticked by ... then an hour. What the hell is happening? The Russians are probably out of here by now—or are they being detained, too?

Jack opened the door, only to be met by an armed security guard who pointed for him to stay in the room.

“El banõ,” pleaded Jack, trying to sound convincing.

“El banõ?”

“Si, por favor. Urgente!”

Moments later, four men escorted Jack toward a washroom. Three of the guards were the same as the ones earlier, but one was different. Jack could tell by the way the other men acted that he was in command.

On the way, Jack caught a quick glimpse of the Russians. They were standing together, three back in line. Once in the washroom, Jack turned to the new guard and said, “They’re about to leave.” He gestured toward the bathroom door and said, “Dos banditos! Vamos! Comprender?”

The man smiled at him and nodded and pointed to the toilet said, “Si, el banõ.”

Minutes later, Jack was walked back toward the interrogation room. He saw the Russians being waved up to the customs counter and stopped and pretended to tie his shoe so that he could observe.

In the few seconds he delayed, the Russians had their papers stamped and disappeared toward where the taxis were parked. Great. I’m held and they’re set free.

Jack was returned to the interrogation room, but a moment later, the same man he had spoken to in the washroom came in.

“My name is Donato Castillo,” he said in perfect English.

“Damn it, you do speak English!”

“I am with the Seguridad de Estado.”

“Security of the State. Great. What is ...?”

“You speak Spanish?”

“Poquito ... a little. Your English is much better.”

“Then I will tell you in English. You are in a lot of trouble, Mister Jack Taggart. So is the lady in the other room. Unfortunately for you, someone has talked. We know why you are really here. In a few minutes, you will both be transferred to jail.”

Jack remained silent and Donato looked at him with contempt before leaving. Moments later, Laura was brought into the room and they were left alone.

“What’s up?” she asked, sitting in a chair to face Jack.

“Did anyone talk to you?” asked Jack.

“Not a word. I’m worried that the Russians might be out of here by now.”

“They are. I saw them leave a few minutes ago when I went to the bathroom.”

“Then what is going on? Have you been talking with anyone?”

“A man by the name of Donato Castillo just told me that someone had talked and that they knew why we were really here. He said we would be transferred to a jail cell shortly.”

“Oh ... I see,” replied Laura. “They have had plenty of time to go through our luggage and read our files on these guys.”

“Exactly.”

“So ... what now?” asked Laura.

“I guess we could both exclaim that we don’t know what Donato is talking about when he said someone talked. We could say that it doesn’t make sense because we are being truthful.”

“Is that the way you want to play it?” asked Laura.

“Naw. I feel that would be just plain deceitful. If we’re going to work together with the Cuban police, we’re going to have to learn to respect and trust each other.”

“Was this Donato taller than the husky types who escorted us off the plane?” asked Laura. “Dark wavy hair, nice teeth?”

“That’s him. You said you didn’t talk to anyone.”

“I didn’t. He just stuck his head in the room for a moment to look at me, then left.” Laura winked at Jack and said, “He certainly is a handsome man. I bet he catches the eye of a lot of pretty ladies.”

“I’m sure. I’d have volunteered to take a polygraph, but he didn’t give me the opportunity. Still, I bet he figures out the truth really fast.”

“Oh, so you think he’s intelligent, too?”

“Guess we’ll find out with how long he keeps us waiting. My guess is ...”

“Okay, okay! Enough!” said Donato, as he entered the room. He sat on the edge of the table, looking down at Jack and Laura, and asked, “Was I that obvious?”

Jack shook his head and replied, “No, but both Laura and I work on an Intelligence Unit. We’ve seen this picture before. As I said, I would be willing to take a polygraph if you wish.”

Donato gave a grim smile and said, “Well-trained agents can be taught to deceive the lie detector. The same type of agents who would pretend to need the bathroom and pretend to tie a shoelace so that they could learn what is going on around them.”

Jack grimaced and said, “I’ve heard that such people can be trained in regard to a polygraph, but only to the point of bringing about an inconclusive result. In my case, I am confident there would be no doubt that I was telling the truth. The only thing I would not disclose to you is the name of the informant that started this investigation.”

“The note you gave the pilot said you were acting without authority. That your own government was unaware that you were coming to Cuba.”

“That is correct,” said Jack.

“You are telling me that you are both so rich that you can spend your own money to travel around the world to catch criminals? That is very, very difficult for me to believe.”

“Our trip to Costa Rica was paid for by our government,” said Jack.

“But not from San Jose to Havana!”

“I’m sorry,” said Jack. “I suspect that police officers in Canada are in a far better economic situation than the officers in this country—but you are right. It is extremely unusual. There’s more to it than just catching two bad guys. I’m actually hoping to save my career by proving that these Russians are worthy targets.”

“Perhaps you should start at the beginning,” said Donato.

Jack told Donato everything, starting from a meeting with a high level source who held an executive position with an organized crime family, to the Russians’ interest in ports, navigational charts in the U.S. ... and a partially overheard telephone conversation where Moustache Pete said the shipment will be as white as snow while arranging a meeting in Costa Rica.

“So your boss does not want you to work on these men and you trick him with a phone call so you can?” asked Donato, somewhat surprised.

“Yes. I must tell you that our source in the organized crime family is a powerful man. He often has people killed. For him to be afraid of these two men ...”

“I understand,” said Donato. “Then you lie to your boss and tell him you are on vacation in Costa Rica.”

“Yes.”

“In my country, to do such a thing, more would happen to you than going back to direct traffic.” Donato stared at Jack quietly for a moment before saying, “Your boss, he is what I call ...” he paused and looked at Laura and asked, “¿Habla usted español?”

Laura looked at Jack and shrugged her shoulders.

“She doesn’t speak Spanish,” said Jack. “I think she only knows the word cerveza.”

Donato smiled, and continued, “Your boss sounds like a pendejo.”

Jack laughed and said, “The meaning of that word is used by police forces around the world. For bosses and criminals.”

Laura leaned forward in her chair and looked at each man and softly said, “Asshole?” She smiled when both Jack and Donato howled with laughter.

“Okay, my new amigos,” said Donato. “We will help you.”

“With discretion?” asked Jack. “My bosses will not be informed?”

“I will recommend that it be kept secret. Perhaps you might give me some suggestions on a certain boss of mine,” he added, with a smile.

“The Russians ... you know where they are?” asked Jack.

“Yes. They are in a taxi on their way to Varadero at this moment.”

“Are they booked into a hotel?” asked Jack.

“No. They are being cautious. They told the driver that they would decide on a hotel when they arrived. That is okay. The driver is a member of my staff. Now we must go. We will get you your luggage and then you will ride with me. You will see how the Cuban police catch criminals. If these men, Petya Globenko and Styopa Ghukov, meet anyone, we will know.”

Jack glanced at Donato, who gave a slight nod of his head. I never used the Russians’ real names. Just Moustache Pete and Fat Man. “Did you search the Russians’ luggage as well?” he asked.

Donato shook his head. “Not yet. That will be done at their hotel.”

“Wouldn’t it have been easier here?” asked Laura. “You wouldn’t have needed a warrant.”

“A warrant?” Donato chuckled. “We have at least one or two secret officers from the DTI at all major hotels. At customs we did not want the Russians to suspect we had any interest in them.”

“The DTI?” asked Jack.

“Sorry, you would refer to them as Intelligence Officers. The other hotel staff does not even know their identity, although, in some cases I think they suspect. It is their job to keep an eye on suspicious people. Very efficient. Do you not do the same thing in Canada?”

“No,” replied Jack with a wry smile. “Civil liberties would go berserk.”

“Ah, I understand,” replied Donato. “Your country has not faced invasions or multiple assassination attempts on your leader. Let alone be faced with an embargo that has alienated you from the world. Such things tend to make leaders more suspicious and defensive. Civil liberties become a luxury we cannot afford.”

It took four hours for them to reach the resort area at Varadero and it was eleven o’clock at night when Jack, Laura, and Donato all checked in at the Hotel Acuazul. Moustache Pete and the Fat Man had already checked in at the Hotel Islazul which was part of the same hotel complex, but was a separate building a short walk away.

Jack, Laura, and Donato’s rooms were all in a row, with Donato taking the room in the centre. Jack glanced at Donato just as the three of them were about to open their doors. He caught Jack’s glance.

“No, you’re not,” Donato said, reading Jack’s mind.

“Of course, not,” replied Jack.

“I understand. I would think the same thing,” said Donato. “Please ... I insist. You take my room.”

“It’s okay,” said Jack. “I’ve been bugged before. I have nothing to hide from you.”

“I do not want you to think that. Please, use this room and I will sleep in yours.”

“What makes you think your own people have not bugged your room as well?” asked Jack. “After all, meeting with two Intelligence Officers from another country ... you might be under suspicion yourself.”

Donato put his finger to his lips for Jack to be quiet before smiling. He then winked and stepped inside.

Minutes later, the three of them reconvened in Donato’s room. “Beer?” asked Donato. Jack and Laura both nodded.

Donato made a phone call and within minutes one of his staff was at the door and handed him a tray with six cold bottles of Bucanero.

Jack didn’t know if it was the heat and the high humidity, or perhaps just the stress of a long day, but he decided it was one of the best beers he had ever tasted.

“They have checked in for three days,” said Donato. “Now that they are in their room, they seem to be relaxed. I do not think that they suspect any police activity. They converse in Russian, but then, that is their native tongue.”

“Do you have someone on your staff who speaks Russian?” asked Laura.

Donato smiled and said, “Cuba has a huge Russian influence. Up until the collapse of the Soviet Union, they provided our country with billions. Now, those days are over. Russia has her own economic problems and has turned away from us. The embargo continues to cause us much suffering. You saw on the way here tonight. Most of our cars are old, running at night without lights. Many people are killed. One of my own children ...”

Jack picked up the sudden sorrow in Donato’s voice.

Donato realized it himself and looked embarrassed as he quickly changed his tone and said, “I am sorry. I sounded like a beggar. I am not! Enough about that.” He turned to Laura and said, “Yes, many members of my staff, including me, speak and write fluently in Russian.”