“I should be asking you that very same question.”
“I don’t think so, Oswaldo.” Judd scowled. “I’m representing the U.S. Department of State. The American government.”
“Are you certain of this, asere?” He waved a scolding finger at the American. “That’s not what the television says.”
“I have authority. I was sent here by Landon Parker. You know that. I have instructions from him to negotiate and bring a deal back to Washington,” Judd said.
“How are you certain Parker will agree? Or that Parker can get your Secretary and your President to agree to this?” Oswaldo shook Judd’s paper with the three points. “Or your Congress?”
“I know my limits. It’s my problem to get everyone on board,” Judd said. “I know how to get my side to agree.”
“So do I,” Oswaldo shot back.
“So . . . how will you get ECP to go along?”
“You leave that to me,” Oswaldo said with a wave of the hand.
Judd stood up from the table. “Before we go any further, I need to know how.”
Oswaldo shook his head.
“That’s it? The whole plan depends on me just . . . trusting you? Your secret?”
“Precisely. The whole plan depends on me,” Oswaldo said, his eyes widening. “The future of Cuba depends on me. I am glad that you finally understand, Dr. Ryker. And that’s why I need something very important from you.”
65.
FORT LAUDERDALE, FLORIDA
FRIDAY, 4:32 P.M.
Don’t hang up.”
Jessica already regretted answering the phone when it flashed DANIEL DOLLAR. She had told herself she wouldn’t answer the phone, wouldn’t talk to her boss, until she was back in Washington. She wasn’t going to allow herself to be used anymore. She wasn’t getting dragged back into his operation, blind and manipulated.
Jessica had spent the morning at the pool with the boys. Now they were walking on the boardwalk, enjoying the sun, Toby and Noah losing a battle with melting soft-serve ice cream. Doing what normal vacationers did. That was the whole idea, right? But something in the back of her brain, something deep down, compelled her to push the button and answer his call.
“I told you, I’m out,” she said.
“You’re never out, Jessica,” the Deputy Director said. “You should know that by now.”
“You sent me on vacation,” she said, stepping off the boardwalk onto the soft white sand. “That’s the order I’m following.”
“Well, the situation’s changed. I need you now. It’s an easy job. A-B-C. In and out.”
“Easy?”
“I need you to go to Homestead and collect a package and then drop it off. That’s it. You’ll be done before midnight.”
“Homestead? The air base? What am I flying?” Jessica asked.
“Need-to-know,” he said.
“Where’s the drop?”
“Need-to-know.”
“What’s the package?”
“Jessica, you should know better. You’ll know all of this soon enough. All you need to do is go to Homestead tonight.”
“I’m not flying another one of your missions into Havana, sir. I’m not dropping another good operative to his death. I won’t do it.”
“The drop isn’t Havana.”
“Don’t tell me it’s Santiago!”
“Not exactly. The package isn’t an operative.”
“Sir?” Jessica took a deep breath and started to speak again when he cut her off.
“Cash,” he said. “Hard cash.”
“I’m delivering money?”
“I need you to deliver ten million dollars in unmarked bills to a contact in Baconao Park. It’s a mountainous reserve about halfway between Gitmo and Santiago. It’s how we channel cash to sleeper cells on the streets of Santiago. That’s the mission. A cash drop in a park. I told you—easy.”
“Why physical cash? What happened to the electronic money operation? Isn’t that what BesoPeso was for?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he snarled. “Cash is the only way.”
“The Cubans blocked BesoPeso?” she asked.
“That’s why I need you,” he said, fighting to cool his temper.
“Mommy, I need you!” Noah cried. She looked up from her call, a swirl of chocolate and vanilla ice cream coating his face and dripping down his arm.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “Like I told you, I’m out.”
66.
OFFSHORE EASTERN CUBA
FRIDAY, 4:38 P.M.
Cash.”
“Money?” Judd was taken aback. “I thought you were a socialist?”
“Twenty-five million dollars. Nothing less. Untraceable. It must be in unmarked, nonsequential bills,” Oswaldo Guerrero said, looking satisfied with himself.
“Twenty-five million dollars in unmarked, nonsequential bills?” Judd winced. “Where did you get that, O?”
“Hollywood,” Oswaldo said with a smirk. “I’ve seen your movies.”
“What movies?”
“All of them.”