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“Where to?”Phoenix had asked as she joined him on the steps in his memory of their epic day.
He’d hopped onto the pier.He’d also found a pair of flip-flops, which wouldn’t go very far in a run, but at least they were something.She’d still had the Converse tennis shoes that she’d worn on the boat.
She’d followed him onto the pier.
“I’m pretty sure the embassy picked them up, so we’ll head up there and see if we can scout them out.”
“But first we need to get off this dock and out of this harbor without being noticed,” she’d said.
Then she’d picked up a cooler that was about the size of her entire body and started to lug it down the pier, as if she were a deckhand.
He’d grabbed one end and nearly tripped.“There’s nothing in this.”
“Still, you were a little impressed, weren’t you?”
“Phoenix, the truth is...”Shoot,he hadn’t been able to stop himself.“I’m almost always a little impressed by you.Scared, mostly, but still a little impressed.”
She’d found a pair of aviators and now put them on.“Of course you are.”
He’d shaken his head but grinned.
They’d lugged the cooler to the end of the pier and then set it down near a truck.The place had felt abandoned, although this late in the day, probably most of the fishermen had come in.
The sun had hung halfway down the horizon, and they’d probably had three or four hours of daylight left.
“Over there,” Phoenix had said, and he’d followed the gesture she made with her head.
The chain-link fence had unraveled near one of the posts, rusty and probably easily breakable.
“Come on,” she’d said, “while nobody’s looking.”She’d jogged over to the fence and kicked it before he could stop her.Pushing it open, she’d made a space wide enough to scoot through.Then she’d held it back, and he’d ducked and wiggled through as well.It had led out into scrub brush and then to a road that ran along the harbor.
Because he hadn’t wanted anyone asking questions, he’d taken her hand and they’d walked out of the harbor together as if they were out for a stroll.She’d seemed to catch on and hadn’t pulled away as they’d walked to the street and woven their way through the city.
As they’d come into Old Havana, the crowd had grown.Tourists had walked hand in hand, and people had sat at the cafés that ringed the big center square.
Steinbeck had stood in the shadows under the portico of one of the shops, watching the fountain as it sprayed kaleidoscope drops into the air.
“Stay here,” she’d said.He’d turned, but she had slipped out of his grip, already gone.She’d walked down the row of shops, bumped into somebody, held up her hand in apology, kept moving all the way to the end, turned, and strolled around the square.He’d lost sight of her in the shadows across the cobblestone street.
A number of buskers had stood in the square, a couple of them playing guitars, another doing tricks.A few pigeons had darted about.
“Miss me?”she’d said.She’d grinned at him, wearing a gimme cap, then handed him one too.And a pair of shades.“Also, I scored us some cash and a phone.”She’d pulled out a burner phone, still in the package.
“Where did you get that?”
“There’s a guy selling burner phones across the way there.”She’d opened the package, turned it on.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out a way out of here.”She’d held the phone to her ear.
“Who are you calling?”
“My boss,” she’d said.“She’ll know what to do.”
“I’ll find the embassy.”He’d walked away from her to a street map attached to a wall.It featured the Old Havana area as well as a larger metropolitan map.He spotted the embassy located along the shoreline, about six miles away.So, a little bit of a hike.
“I have a plan,” Phoenix had said.He’d turned, found her standing next to him.“Get to the airport, fly out, and my contact will pick us up.”