Spy in a Little Black Dress

XIII



They were on the run.

Once down the rickety fire escape, Jackie and Emiliano exited the alley opening to the street, hoping they were far enough from the building’s entrance to escape being spotted by any members of the flying squad who had been positioned there. The scene in the street was absolute pandemonium as the rebels caught by Colonel Sanchez’s men were placed in army trucks parked at the curb. People had come out to rubberneck and were being held back by police officers supporting the flying squad with crowd control. Jackie could only hope that some of the rebels had managed to take advantage of this crowd and blend in with the gawkers as Sanchez’s men herded the ones already captured into the rear of the waiting trucks.

In one of the vehicles, she spotted Rosario, noticeable now by her long, dark brown curls. She looked frightened, as anyone would have been under the circumstances. Jackie’s heart went out to her, and she wished that there was something she could do for her. Maybe later. Maybe then she could find some way to save the life of the brave young woman who had done the same for her.

Jackie motioned to Emiliano that they should go back and exit the alley from the other end. But before they could, there was a cry from one of the police officers holding back the crowd.

“Look! There are two more,” he shouted, then took a whistle out of his breast pocket and began to blow on it. This attracted several members of the flying squad, who took off after Jackie and Emiliano as they ran back down the alley and out the other side.

Jackie had no idea where they were, so she let Emiliano take the lead. Fortunately, he did know where he was going and led the flying-squad members on a breathless chase through the back alleys of the Vedado. At several points, Jackie could have sworn that they had lost their pursuers and were safe. But just as soon as she thought they could stop running, the flying-squad members would find them and the chase would be on again. She wished now that she had worn something else, because she felt like she could be spotted a mile off in her colorful flower-print summer dress. The only place where it could have provided proper camouflage was back at the flower market.

They were now running through an area adjacent to the Vedado, one where elegant restaurants had given way to fly-ridden food stalls, and office buildings had been replaced by block-long factories and warehouses. By now, it was late in the afternoon, and many of these businesses had shut down operations for the day.

They heard footsteps behind them, coming at a fast pace. The long, featureless street they were on afforded no cover, and they were walking briskly past a brick wall.

“Jacqueline, this way,” Emiliano said, making a stirrup out of his hands for her to put her foot in, then boosting her up and over the wall. On the other side of it, Jackie climbed down into what she saw was a parking lot filled with large trucks. There appeared to be no one around. A moment later, she was joined by Emiliano. They kept silent and heard the sounds of the footsteps running past them on the other side of the wall.

“That was quick thinking,” said Jackie. She couldn’t hide that she was exhausted from the long chase. “We need transportation,” Emiliano suggested. “They’ll never suspect us if we’re in one of these trucks.”

They explored the lot and went from truck to truck until they found one that had its key in the ignition.

“Gracias a Dios,” Emiliano said, looking up at the heavens.

In the back of the truck, he found two sets of coveralls and two caps. He handed one of each to Jackie and said, “Here, put this on.”

Jackie looked questioningly at him.

“For camouflage,” Emiliano explained, “in case we hit any roadblocks.”

Jackie and Emiliano put on the coveralls over their clothes. Jackie pushed all of her hair under the cap so she wouldn’t be recognized as a woman.

“How do I look?” she asked Emiliano.

Emiliano looked her up and down and said, “I think there’s only one thing missing to complete your disguise.”

As Jackie looked on, Emiliano disappeared under the truck. When he reappeared, his right hand was thick with axle grease. Before she could stop him, Emiliano had taken several swipes at her face with his right hand, smearing it with the grease. He stood back and assessed his handiwork.

“Perfect,” he exclaimed.

Was it her imagination or was Emiliano somehow enjoying this? Well, if so, two could certainly play at this game.

Emiliano was all set to get into the truck when Jackie stopped him by saying, “What about your disguise? Shouldn’t it be as complete as mine?”

Before Emiliano could stop her, Jackie rubbed her right hand against his, transferring some of the axle grease to her fingers. She then used her fingers to paint Emiliano’s cheeks and forehead with the grease, making her feel like a Comanche maiden putting war paint on her brave for a ritual dance. She stood back to examine her artistic creation.

“Perfect,” Jackie proclaimed.

A chagrined Emiliano said, “Can we get in the truck now?”

Jackie found a rag in the back pocket of her coveralls. She used it to remove the axle grease from her fingers. She then passed the rag to 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?