Devil in a Black Suit
Vincente’s eyes widened with surprise, then narrowed with comprehension. “I see. They have something on you. Well, it is no matter. I know what to do now.” He glanced at Zarco and let out a breath. “I’ve wanted to kill him for a long time.”
He caught Ramos’s gaze, and his lips tightened into a grim line, then he stepped back to the table and grabbed the handcuffs. “Before we leave, I have to put the cuffs back on you, but don’t worry, no one will question me. I will get you out.”
Ramos nodded and stood. His legs shook, and his vision swam, but he took a breath and held still until everything came back into focus. With shaking hands, he buttoned up his shirt and tucked it back into his pants. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Vincente pulled Ramos’s arms behind him and locked the cuffs, then took hold of his arm and waited for Ramos to take a step. His first steps were a little unsteady but, with Vincente’s help, Ramos soon regained his footing, and they made it to the door.
Ramos waited while Vincente opened the door, then stepped through, surprised to find the hall empty. Vincente locked the door behind them and took Ramos’s arm. Ramos wasn’t sure if it was to steady him, or to make it look official, but he was grateful for Vincente’s firm grip.
Shaky, and with his nerves on edge, the walk out seemed longer than the walk in. At the checkpoint, the guard acknowledged Vincente and opened the gate without a word. A few minutes later, they rounded the corner to the first room Ramos had been taken to.
The old man who’d clubbed Ramos over the head nodded at Vincente, then moved to take the lead. He cleared the way for Vincente and Ramos to reach the last checkpoint before the exit.
The officer who’d caught Ramos at the defense building stood just inside the doors. His gaze widened with alarm to see Ramos with Vincente, and he stepped forward to stop them. “What are you doing? He cannot leave.”
Vincente glanced at the officer with distaste, then motioned to the old man. “Take him.”
He moved quickly, for an old guy, and soon had the guard in hand. The officer protested but, under Vincente’s pointed gaze, he closed his mouth and quit struggling.
Vincente nodded his approval. “Good. You learn fast. I will take care of this one way or another. Cooperate with me and you will live. Understand?” At his nod, Vincente continued. “We will clear this up. Sí?” The officer nodded with comprehension and relief. “Good. I’ll be back shortly.”
Vincente glanced at the old man with an unspoken command, and the old man led the officer away. At the last checkpoint before exiting the building, Vincente called ahead to the guards, telling them to bring his car around.
Barely a minute later, a Toyota Land Cruiser pulled up. The guards opened the last double-doors, and Ramos walked out of the prison with Vincente. The sun had set, and the sky was darkening, but it was a beautiful sight, and Ramos took a deep breath of fresh air.
The driver came around and opened the back door. Vincente helped Ramos inside, and Ramos slid across the seat to allow Vincente to sit beside him. The driver pulled away from the building, then slowed at the outer gates. The guards stationed there quickly pushed the gates open, and the driver pulled through. Before turning onto the street, Vincente told the driver to take them to Ramos’s hotel.
“Turn around,” Vincente said to Ramos. He quickly unlocked Ramos’s cuffs, then sat back in his seat. “As you can imagine, I have some things to take care of, but if you could come to my home around ten tonight, I will explain.”
Ramos rubbed his wrists, still a little dazed that he’d made it out of that place alive. He owed Vincente his life. “Yes. Of course. I’ll be there.”
“Good. You should also make arrangements to leave Cuba…tomorrow.”
Ramos nodded. “I will.”
“I must also warn you that we are still looking for your associates. If we find them, they will be shown no mercy.”
“I understand.” It was easy to see that the same rules for helping Ramos didn’t apply to Sloan and Noah. Ramos had no idea what had happened to them, but he hoped they were long gone.
Weary, and suddenly thirsty, Ramos closed his eyes against the pounding in his skull. He touched the back of his head to find a lump, but at least the skin wasn’t broken. He needed some aspirin and a drink. Some food would be nice, too. But, after everything that had happened, he was incredibly grateful to be alive.
The car pulled up in front of his hotel, and Ramos got out. He glanced at Vincente and nodded his thanks before closing the door. As the car drove away, he heard Vincente telling his driver where to go next. He didn’t envy the mess Vincente had to clean up, and wondered how he’d pull it off. What if he couldn’t? Would the soldiers come back to get him?
He took the elevator to the third floor and shuffled to his room. Using the keycard to unlock the door, he flipped on the light. After filling a glass with water and drinking it down, he dug his cell phone from his pocket and switched it on.
He’d missed three phone calls, all from Sloan. He pulled up his voice mail and listened to each one. In the first, Sloan sounded breathless and frightened. “Ramos! I saw them take you. I’m not going to leave you behind. I’ll do everything I can to get you out of there.”
The second was more controlled, but harder to hear because of the sounds of an engine and heavy wind in the background. “We had to leave. Wells sent a team after us, but I’ll try and come back. I promise. I’ll do everything I can.”
In the third message, her remorse and guilt came through in waves. “Ramos…I know you’ll probably never hear this. But…I need you to know that I never meant for this to happen. I shouldn’t have involved you with any of this. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I don’t know if I can get you out, but I’ll do what I can. I’ll never stop trying to find you. I promise. I’m so sorry.”
He sank down in the chair and closed his eyes. At least they’d made it out of there, so he didn’t have to worry about that. The precariousness of the whole situation hit him like a ton of bricks. Without Vincente’s intervention, he’d be dead.
Helping Sloan was the stupidest thing he’d ever done. He could never put himself in that position again. It didn’t matter how much he cared for her, or what she promised him, or how she felt. He was done with having her in his life.
He let out a sigh and pushed her number.
“Ramos?”
“It’s me.”
She let out a relieved breath. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He heard someone speaking to Sloan, so he waited until she came back on the line.
“Are they asking for something?” she asked. “Like money, or the device?”
“Uh…no. I got out. They let me go.”
Sloan gasped. “What? They let you go? I never thought…”
“I have to leave tomorrow, but I just wanted you to know I’m okay.”
“How did you get out?”
“It’s a long story.” He wasn’t about to explain anything over the phone, especially when he knew someone was there and most likely listening to the conversation.
“Okay, sure. Wow. I can hardly believe it. I can’t tell you how relieved I am. So you’re flying out tomorrow?”
“That’s the plan. I’ll call you when I get to Miami. We’ll talk then.”
“Okay. Call me the minute you land. All right?”
“I’ll call you tomorrow, Sloan.” He disconnected and set his phone on the table. Rubbing his face, he let out a breath. What a mess this was. Now he had to worry about who was listening, and if she’d told her superiors that he’d been involved with the whole thing. How would that affect him?
With a sigh, he stood, then pulled off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. He needed a shower to wash the stink of that place from his body and mind. Catching sight of his bare chest in the mirror, he found two red burns like round suction cups on his skin.
Just the memory of that pain sent a shiver through him. He turned on the hot water and stood beneath the spray
for a good ten minutes before he felt better. Finishing up, he toweled dry and got dressed. Hunger and thirst drove him from his room, but at least he wasn’t shaking anymore.
He stopped at the front desk and asked for the concierge. A woman emerged from the back office and smiled at him. “What can I do for you?”
“I need to book a flight to Miami tomorrow. Can you help me with that?”
“Of course.” She pulled up the information on her computer. There were only two seats left on the morning flight at ten-thirty. She told him there was another flight with more room in the afternoon, if he wanted to wait. Ramos wasn’t about to take any chances and told her to book one of the earlier seats. As she got to work, he hardly dared to breathe until his flight was confirmed.
She printed out his boarding pass, and he took it with relief. After stowing it away in his wallet, he asked about a good restaurant nearby. She pointed him to the one across the street, and he thanked her. Leaving the hotel, he made his way to the restaurant, hoping to blend in with the other tourists. He didn’t notice anyone taking a special interest in him and was grateful to sit down at a table where he didn’t feel cornered.
He took note of all the exits and kept an eye on the people around him. After several minutes, he found nothing out of place, and finally glanced over his menu. The waiter took his order, and it wasn’t long before the arroz con pollo was placed in front of him.
It smelled delicious, and Ramos began to eat. He glanced up every so often, vigilantly watching for an attack. Soon the food lost its flavor, because he couldn’t shake the worry that, at any moment, a military guard or a police officer would walk in and arrest him. Even a famous Cuban Mojito did little to curb his anxiety. It did take the edge off, and he finally finished his dinner.
At nine-forty, he paid his bill and found a taxi. He arrived at Vincente’s house a little early, but Yanara’s welcoming smile put him at ease.
“Vincente is upstairs, but he’ll be down in a minute. Can I get you something? I made torticas de moron, uh…sugar cookies. Would you like one?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
He sat back in the chair and closed his eyes, feeling safe for the first time since he’d been released from the prison. Yanara returned with a plate of cookies and set them on the coffee table. He took one and ate it, surprised at the lime and rum flavoring. “This is really good. Thanks.”
He was on his second cookie when Vincente entered the room. Vincente’s hair was wet from a shower, and he carried a weight on his shoulders that hadn’t been there before. With his entrance, Yanara announced that she was going to bed and bid them goodnight. “Don’t stay up too late,” she admonished her husband.
He nodded absently and walked to the liquor cabinet. He pulled out a bottle of rum and two glasses. After setting them on the table, he poured a splash into each glass and set the bottle down. He took a sip before turning to Ramos. “This has been an interesting day.”
Ramos nodded his agreement and waited for Vincente to begin.
“When are you leaving?” Vincente asked.
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Good, good.” Vincente took another swallow and leaned back into his chair. “And your friends? Do you know what happened to them?”
“They left. I’m certain they’re back in the states…with the device.”
Vincente took a deep breath and shook his head. “Zarco had too much power, and he hated anything to do with the states. He didn’t want better relations between the countries, which drove him to make the attacks. It seems to have worked, but that is my problem…Cuba’s problem now.”
He studied Ramos, then took another swallow of his drink before he began. “I’m sure you are wondering why I stepped in to help you. It was true when I told you that your father and I were good friends. He was an idealist. It got him into trouble. I was not a believer in rocking the boat, so we didn’t always agree. But when I found out that he was about to be arrested, I’m the one who warned him. I also helped him get out of Cuba.”
Vincente swirled the rum in his glass, but his gaze was far away. “He got you and your family out in time, so I was dismayed to learn that he’d been captured and was being held in the Villa Marista. General Zarco was only a commander then, but he had made it his mission to bring down the dissenters in a bid to prove himself to the regime and move up in the ranks.
“Zarco wanted the names of everyone in Rafael’s organization. He especially wanted the name of the person who had helped him escape Cuba. But Rafael refused to tell him.”
Vincente glanced at Ramos with eyes that held pain and sorrow. “Zarco called me into the interrogation room, and I saw what he had done to Rafael. The poor man was barely alive. Seeing him like that, and knowing he hadn’t turned me in…” He made a fist and shook his head. “He saved my life, but it tore me up inside.”
Vincente took a breath to control his emotions, then his voice turned hard and cold. “Zarco complained to me that Rafael hadn’t given him anything. He’d done everything he could think of to get him to talk, even threatening his family, but Rafael never broke. Then Zarco looked at me, and dark calculation filled his eyes. He knew we’d been friends so, to prove my loyalty, he gave me the task of ending Rafael’s life.”
Ramos shook his head. Anger burned inside of him, and he wished Zarco wasn’t dead so he could be the one to kill him. He glanced at Vincente, knowing he’d paid a terrible price for his high position in the government, but Ramos couldn’t judge him. Not now. “Did you do it?”
Vincente’s stark gaze didn’t waver from his, and Ramos braced himself for the truth. “I told Zarco I would kill him, but I asked for some time to see if I could get Rafael to talk to me. I explained that he might talk to an old friend and confess everything.
“Zarco liked that idea and quickly agreed. But, with Rafael so close to death, I needed some time to bring him around. It worked as I’d hoped, and Zarco went home for the night, leaving me alone with Rafael, saying he’d be back in the morning.
“As soon as Zarco left, I lowered Rafael’s battered body to the ground and unlocked the chains from his wrists and ankles. I gave him water and bathed his bruised and swollen face. I did what I could to make him comfortable.
“It was near dawn when he opened his eyes. He could hardly speak. I told him what Zarco wanted me to do. He whispered that he was okay with dying, as long as I promised to make sure his family was safe. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes as he held on to life, waiting for my response. The moment I agreed, his body relaxed, and he died in my arms.”
Ramos’s eyes glazed over with unshed tears. He’d been in the exact same room where his father had died. But at least Rafael hadn’t died alone. Vincente was there, like a true friend.
“Zarco was disappointed that Rafael had died before he’d told me anything, and I think he always had his doubts about me. But there was nothing he could do about it. I did what I could to fulfill my promise and sent word to a friend in the states to make sure your family was out of danger.
“I also steered retaliation away from Rafael’s family here in Cuba. This home belonged to your mother’s family. They took the brunt of the harassment, and I persuaded them to move away before things got worse. I got their home, and they managed to get enough money to leave Cuba for good.”
Vincente closed his eyes and let out a breath. “Then you came. I knew who you were the moment I saw you. I wanted to tell you that Rafael was dead, but I thought it best to encourage you to leave it alone. It happened a long time ago, and I didn’t want to bring unwanted attention your way or mine. Since you used a different name, I didn’t think you’d be in danger here.
“In fact, the only danger I could sense was that you were here to kill the man responsible for your father’s death.” He grimaced. “I even wondered if you’d come after me. That’s why I asked Yanara to give you the few photos of your family that we’d kept. I’d hoped it would be enough to satisfy your curiosity.”
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sp; He shook his head. “When my officer at the Villa Marista told me someone named Rafael Ramirez had been caught, I didn’t know what to think. Then to learn that Zarco had come to interrogate him, I knew that I had to act quickly. It was a shock to find you in that room with Zarco…just like your father. I’m glad I got there in time to stop him.”
“I’m glad that you killed him,” Ramos said. “Will they come after you now?”
Vincente snorted. “No. Thanks to you, I have the evidence of Zarco’s collusion with the Russians. It may have been sanctioned by one or two people in power, but the majority of the council would never support such an act. In the end, it will be made to look like he was acting on his own.”
Ramos nodded. “And I can leave?”
“Yes,” Vincente agreed. “Rafael Ramirez died a long time ago. If anyone is looking for him, it will come to nothing, but it was good you used his name. It protected you more than you know. And now Alejandro Ramos is free to go.”
Ramos stood, suddenly weary to the bone. “Thank you Vincente. Thanks for keeping your promise to my father.”
“He was a good, honorable man,” Vincente said, standing. He held out his hand, and Ramos took it, then Vincente pulled him in close and clapped Ramos on the back. “It would probably be best if you never came back. I know you have family here but, for their safety…”
“I know. I won’t be back,” Ramos said, stepping away. “But, if you ever need me, don’t hesitate to reach out. I’d be willing to help you any time.” Ramos took a business card from his wallet and handed it to Vincente. “It’s a secure number.”
“Thank you, Alejandro. I hope I never have to, but it is good to have friends, sí?”
“Yes. Please tell Yanara thanks for everything.”
“I will.” Vincente opened the door, and Ramos walked out. A calming peace settled over him. It was over. At the gate, he glanced back. Vincente nodded at him, then closed the door.
Back at the hotel, he fell into bed, exhausted and sad about his father. At least he knew what had happened to him, and the man responsible for it was dead. Ramos would probably be dead too if Vincente hadn’t kept his promise.