interact.”
“Is this the kind of pep talk they gave Teddy Roosevelt before he charged up San Juan Hill?”
“It’s not going to be gunfire that determines the course of the next round of political change in Cuba, Mr. Deal. This time it’s going to be dollars. Whomever Fuentes is in contact with, that’s where the real power is located. You can trust me on that.”
“I wouldn’t trust you to lock the door on your way out, Vines.”
The man was unfazed. “You have a unique opportunity to help change the course of history; that’s what I’m trying to convey to you. You can be a part of the solution to an immense political and social problem that has plagued this country for almost fifty years. Right now, people are out there in those straits, riding inner tubes and smugglers’ boats, risking their lives to try to get to this country,” Vines said. He swept his arm vehemently toward the tasteful, wood-shuttered windows of the condo.
“At the same time, you’ve got the Florida exile community, working the other side,” he continued. “They’re one of the most powerful lobbying group in Washington, clamoring for an agenda that makes the NRA look like a pack of liberals.” He shook his head as if bewildered by his own words. “The heartache, the expense, the strife for everyone…you can be a part of the solution to all of it.”
“What if he’s the wrong guy?” Deal said.
Vines stared back, puzzled. “What are you talking about?”
“Say I come up with the name, you don’t like who it is.”
Vines threw up his hands. “Then we’ll deal with it, if you’ll pardon the expression. It’s the
information
we’re after. The ability to prepare to respond. That’s the key…”
“Forget it, Vines,” he said. “Go find yourself another contractor.”
“You are the right man,” Vines said, his tone resolute. “You have no political agenda. Your reputation is impeccable.” He paused, an odd expression crossing his features. “When it comes right down to it, we want you over there for the same reasons Fuentes does.”
“I must be doing something wrong,” Deal said, weary. “I am attracting entirely the wrong class of client.”
“Ah, yes,” Vines said, as if he had forgotten something. “There is that, too.” He reached into the pocket of his coat and withdrew an envelope, then held it out toward Deal.
“What’s that supposed to be?” Deal asked.
“We don’t expect you to take time away from your business affairs without recompense,” Vines said. He extended the envelope another inch, practically waving it under Deal’s nose.
Deal’s curiosity got the better of him. He took the envelope and peeled it open under Vines’ watchful eye. Another cashier’s check, he saw, another offshore bank. Not quite as many zeros as on Fuentes’ check, but not bad for a few days in sunny Havana.
“Government work pays a lot better than I remember,” he told Vines.
“Some of it may,” Vines said. The tone of his voice made Deal wonder if he’d finally struck a chord.
“I wish I could help you out,” Deal said. He handed the check back toward Vines who stared as if it were a snake in his outstretched hand.
“I don’t know where you got that,” Vines said, indicating the envelope, “but it certainly wasn’t from me.”
Deal didn’t miss a beat. He crumpled the envelope and tossed it onto the kitchen counter. “We’ve wasted enough time, Vines. I want you out of here, now. I’ve got work to do.”
He started forward, ready to brush by the man, but Vines didn’t move. “You’re a tough one to convince,” he said, with something like a smile on his face. “They said you would be, but I had no idea it would be this difficult.”
“Is that right?” Deal said, sizing the man up. “We’ve been through fraternity, liberty and cold, hard cash. What’s next, rubber hoses?” Vines was barely six feet, maybe went one-seventy. “You have some help on the other side of
“Is this the kind of pep talk they gave Teddy Roosevelt before he charged up San Juan Hill?”
“It’s not going to be gunfire that determines the course of the next round of political change in Cuba, Mr. Deal. This time it’s going to be dollars. Whomever Fuentes is in contact with, that’s where the real power is located. You can trust me on that.”
“I wouldn’t trust you to lock the door on your way out, Vines.”
The man was unfazed. “You have a unique opportunity to help change the course of history; that’s what I’m trying to convey to you. You can be a part of the solution to an immense political and social problem that has plagued this country for almost fifty years. Right now, people are out there in those straits, riding inner tubes and smugglers’ boats, risking their lives to try to get to this country,” Vines said. He swept his arm vehemently toward the tasteful, wood-shuttered windows of the condo.
“At the same time, you’ve got the Florida exile community, working the other side,” he continued. “They’re one of the most powerful lobbying group in Washington, clamoring for an agenda that makes the NRA look like a pack of liberals.” He shook his head as if bewildered by his own words. “The heartache, the expense, the strife for everyone…you can be a part of the solution to all of it.”
“What if he’s the wrong guy?” Deal said.
Vines stared back, puzzled. “What are you talking about?”
“Say I come up with the name, you don’t like who it is.”
Vines threw up his hands. “Then we’ll deal with it, if you’ll pardon the expression. It’s the
information
we’re after. The ability to prepare to respond. That’s the key…”
“Forget it, Vines,” he said. “Go find yourself another contractor.”
“You are the right man,” Vines said, his tone resolute. “You have no political agenda. Your reputation is impeccable.” He paused, an odd expression crossing his features. “When it comes right down to it, we want you over there for the same reasons Fuentes does.”
“I must be doing something wrong,” Deal said, weary. “I am attracting entirely the wrong class of client.”
“Ah, yes,” Vines said, as if he had forgotten something. “There is that, too.” He reached into the pocket of his coat and withdrew an envelope, then held it out toward Deal.
“What’s that supposed to be?” Deal asked.
“We don’t expect you to take time away from your business affairs without recompense,” Vines said. He extended the envelope another inch, practically waving it under Deal’s nose.
Deal’s curiosity got the better of him. He took the envelope and peeled it open under Vines’ watchful eye. Another cashier’s check, he saw, another offshore bank. Not quite as many zeros as on Fuentes’ check, but not bad for a few days in sunny Havana.
“Government work pays a lot better than I remember,” he told Vines.
“Some of it may,” Vines said. The tone of his voice made Deal wonder if he’d finally struck a chord.
“I wish I could help you out,” Deal said. He handed the check back toward Vines who stared as if it were a snake in his outstretched hand.
“I don’t know where you got that,” Vines said, indicating the envelope, “but it certainly wasn’t from me.”
Deal didn’t miss a beat. He crumpled the envelope and tossed it onto the kitchen counter. “We’ve wasted enough time, Vines. I want you out of here, now. I’ve got work to do.”
He started forward, ready to brush by the man, but Vines didn’t move. “You’re a tough one to convince,” he said, with something like a smile on his face. “They said you would be, but I had no idea it would be this difficult.”
“Is that right?” Deal said, sizing the man up. “We’ve been through fraternity, liberty and cold, hard cash. What’s next, rubber hoses?” Vines was barely six feet, maybe went one-seventy. “You have some help on the other side of
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