Jack picked up the sudden sorrow in Donato’s voice.

Donato realized it himself and looked embarrassed as he quickly changed his tone and said, “I am sorry. I sounded like a beggar. I am not! Enough about that.” He turned to Laura and said, “Yes, many members of my staff, including me, speak and write fluently in Russian.”

“Russian, Spanish, and English,” said Jack. “You’re not afraid to learn, are you?”

“You can also add French and German to the list. No, I am not afraid to learn. Perhaps in the next few days we will learn things from each other.”

Donato paused to answer another knock at the door. He spoke quickly to one of his men before returning and announcing, “Now, some good news. From what we have heard they have simply come to Varadero to relax and enjoy themselves ... so you two can do likewise.”

“That’s not good news,” said Jack, glumly.

“No, my friend! Let me finish. Then they plan on returning to Havana where they are meeting someone before leaving Cuba.”

“Great,” replied Jack, returning Laura’s thumbs-up sign.

“Do you know if these Russians are dealing with someone who is an Arab?” asked Donato.

“Not that we’re specifically aware of. They’ve made phone calls to several Arab countries. It is possible they could be involved with smuggling heroin or hashish out of Afghanistan. Why?”

“They mentioned a restaurant in Havana that they would be meeting at. Moustache Pete said it would make whoever they are meeting feel at home. The restaurant is called Al Medina. It is the only Arab restaurant in Havana.”

“It doesn’t really make sense to me,” admitted Jack. “If their original meeting was in Costa Rica, it should be with someone from South America arranging to bring a boatload of cocaine to Canada.”

“Perhaps Costa Rica was just a place to blend business and pleasure,” suggested Donato. “It might be drugs from Afghanistan after all.”

“Perhaps,” replied Jack. “Seizing a boatload of heroin would be even better.”

“We are conducting background checks with Moscow on Moustache Pete and the Fat Man. We will learn more about these Russian schoolteachers.”

“Russia?” said Jack, surprised. “If you get anything back at all, I imagine it will be next year sometime.”

“We have a much better relationship,” replied Donato. “I expect to hear back tonight.”

“Tonight!” said Jack in amazement. “Your relationship with Russia is far better.”

“I have a question for you,” said Donato. “How long does it take you to get information from the United States?”

“Fast ... if it is unofficial. Only a matter of minutes,” replied Jack.

“For me, it is the same with Russia. Perhaps you and I may help each other in the future,” suggested Donato.

Jack nodded and passed Donato a business card.

“Thank you,” said Donato, while reciprocating with his own business card. “Now, about these Russians, my staff will handle all the necessary surveillance and investigative duties. They will be monitored every minute they are here, so you can sit back and enjoy yourselves. I will keep you appraised.”

“I would like to see whoever they are meeting,” said Jack.

“We will have photos—but I understand. I will see what can be arranged. For the next few days, I think you can enjoy the beauty that my country has to offer. For the most part, I will remain by your side. It would not be wise for the Russians to see your faces and I will always be informed of their movements. Another cerveza?” he asked, looking at Laura.

Laura shook her head and said, “Thanks, but no. I’m exhausted. I think it’s time for me to turn in.”

“Likewise,” said Jack, getting to his feet.

Donato’s phone rang and he answered it, speaking rapidly in Russian, but paused to look at Jack and Laura. “Wait!” he ordered, before returning to speaking Russian.

Jack and Laura each sat back down. Jack saw the surprised look on Donato’s face change to that of a frightened man.

Something is terribly wrong ...

chapter thirteen

“They’re what?” Jack couldn’t believe what he was just told. The impact was still sinking in.

“You might call them schoolteachers,” continued Donato. “Both of them did teach at various military institutions in Russia. The one you call the Fat Man has his degree in microbiology. Moustache Pete has a degree in history and was a high-ranking officer in the Russian infantry.”

The shipment will be as white as snow, thought Jack. Microbiology ... chemical warfare, anthrax?

“Jack,” said Laura. “They were looking at navigational charts around Seattle! Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I think all three of us are,” said Jack. No wonder Damien was scared of these guys! He knew this! Those text books in the apartment he told us about. Sure, maybe they were in Russian, but they were bound to have graphs, maybe a periodic chart of elements or a conceptual flow chart of microbes—

“Oh, man,” said Laura as she started to put everything together. “This is a plot to smuggle a dirty bomb into the States.”

Jack was still thinking of Damien. If Satans Wrath was linked with terrorists, they’d be slam-dunked by the government of every country they operated in. Half of them would end up in Guantanamo Bay, or secret prisons elsewhere in the world. Maybe never heard from again ...

“Calls to Iran, Saudi Arabia ...” continued Laura.

“This changes everything,” said Donato, quickly getting to his feet. “I must leave for Havana immediately. You will both remain in the hotel until I speak with you. Understood?”

“I understand,” said Jack. “We’ll be here.”

“We’re dealing with terrorists,” said Laura, as soon as they were alone. “It has to be! It all adds up.”

“Explains why our friend with Satans Wrath was scared and made it clear they were not involved. Tipping us off about them was just his way of covering his ass.”

“We’re going to have to tell the brass,” said Laura. “We can’t stay mum about this. We could be talking about thousands of lives here.”

“I know, but right now, it’s the Cubans who discovered this. It’s their ball game. I don’t want to do, or say anything ... without their approval.”

Laura nodded and said, “Donato is heading back to Havana, I bet we don’t see him much before noon tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” replied Jack, glancing at his watch. “I feel sorry for him tonight.”

“How so?”

“How receptive do you think Fidel will be to being woken up at this hour?”

Jack tried to sleep, but found it virtually impossible. By morning, he was just beginning to doze when the hotel came alive. After listening to the movement of hotel guests and the cheery voices of maids going about their business, he finally gave up on the idea. A cool shower helped him wake up before he put on a pair of cargo shorts and stepped out on his balcony. The day was hot, humid, and sunny.

“Can’t sleep?” called Laura.

Jack saw Laura on her own balcony and waved her over. Breakfast was included at the hotel, but, not wanting to take a chance of the Russians seeing them, they ordered room service.

Later, from their balconies, they could see the sandy white beaches and azure colour of the sea beyond. Neither one was able to appreciate the magnificent beauty as they paced back and forth in the room, trying to walk off the stress that accumulated with each passing hour.

It was ten-thirty at night when Jack answered the knock on his door and let Donato inside.

“I apologize for keeping you both waiting,” said Donato. Jack noticed that Donato was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. The dark circles under his bloodshot eyes said that he hadn’t been to bed at all.