DANGEROUS MERGERS

Chapter Ten

The chilled evening air raised the hairs on Stephanie's bare arms. She wasn't sure if it was due to not being out in the open for the past few days or if it was adrenaline. Noticing her slight shiver, Enrique pulled a blanket from under the front seat of the wagon and handed it to her. She smiled her thanks, accepted the rough piece of hand-woven cloth and wrapped it around her shoulders. Grateful for the warmth, Stephanie pulled the wrap tight around her arms. Strange. Five days ago, she was a single woman. Four days ago, she was a bride. Three days ago she had become a refugee with a miniaturized version of her husband acting as her translator and guide through an unfamiliar and hostile country.

She looked at Enrique's smiling face and opened the blanket with one arm, inviting the child to join her. He smiled and shook his head no. She had been instructed not to speak under any circumstances. That was one promise she planned to follow no matter how hard it would be for her to keep her mouth shut. Enrique settled in close next to her. His father had agreed, with great reservation, that the boy's ability to speak English would be beneficial to Manuel and Stephanie as they made their way to Guantanamo.

In the weakening light of evening, she stared through a gap in the floorboards at the unpaved road passing slow and steady beneath them and tried to calm her nerves. Soon, the mesmerizing visual and the gentle rocking of the horse drawn wagon caused her eyes to droop and her thoughts to meander. Ranger's safety was the first thought to enter her mind, followed by the last time they had made love. It had been slow and gentle and full of love. That thought brought a smothered sigh from her.

"Don't worry, Babe. You will be with him soon." Stephanie smiled at the boy's enjoyment at using the name she had decided would be safe and easy for him and the others to refer to her by. "We will get you to him."

She felt a tear slip down her cheek. She slipped one of her arms outside of the blanket and hugged his slim body and kissed the top of his head.

oOoOo

Leon juggled two bottles of water and an armload of towels as he opened the door to the room he was sharing with Ranger. He was surprised at the sight before him. Ranger stood with his back to the door, shirtless, staring out the window. He noticed the slight movement of the chain draped over his brother's neck. Some habits never die he thought; in times of stress, his brother had always played with the small cross their mother had given them to wear for protection. Dropping the items down on one of the beds, Leon waited a moment before he spoke. "She's okay, man. She's a Manoso and we Manosos always manage to survive."

Ranger turned to face his brother. "She's a new Manoso and you're wrong." Pausing the time it took him to blink, he then added, "Our father didn't survive."

Leon crossed the room to stand next to his brother. "True, but his spirit lives on through us."

"She is my heart and soul," Ranger said as he turned his attention back to the window, his words soft with feeling. "I love her."

Not able to find words to match his brother's declaration, Leon reached out and rested his hand on his brother's shoulder and squeezed it in silent support.

oOoOo

Manuel called to the horse in a gentle voice and the wagon rolled to a leisurely stop. Stephanie was slow to wake when her body ceased to sway back and forth. She raised her head and managed to keep the questions she had to herself. Where were they? Why had they stopped?

"Cover your hair," Enrique whispered and then helped her pull he shawl over her head. "Lower your eyes." Stephanie had seen enough of Enrique's world in the last two days to know better than to delay in carrying out his instructions. Do first, ask why later was definitely the Cuban way.

Enrique folded his small body in half by drawing up his knees to his chest, then wrapping his arms around his knees and tucking his head down between his elbows. Stephanie realized he was pretending to be asleep and mimicked his pose, except for lowering her head. Instead, she relaxed her neck and shoulders, allowing her head to wilt to one side.

The silence and the stillness of the wagon fell heavy around the two passengers huddled together behind the driver of the wagon. The temptation to raise her head and look around was almost too strong to resist.

"¿El nombre?" (Names?) A stern, loud voice asked from the side of the wagon.

"Emanuel Martinez y mi esposa y el hijo." (Emanuel Martinez, my wife and my son.) Manuel lied. The wagon swayed when he shifted in his seat to nod sideways to indicate that the woman and the boy were his wife and son.

"¿Qué edad tiene el niño?" (How old is the child?) The soldier reached over the edge of the wagon and pulled Enrique's head up by his hair.

"Diego es 8." (Diego is 8 years old.) Manuel was quick to answer with another lie. He wasn't sure what was causing the man's interest in Enrique. Whatever it was, he wasn't going to give any correct information about the child.

The man released his grip on Enrique's hair and turned his attention to Stephanie. Keeping her eyes lowered and the shawl pulled tight around her hair, she held her breath, worried that she would do something to cause her two friends to suffer. The soldier placed his hand under her chin, but before he could raise her face, his friends called to him from the side of the road. The man shouted a quick answer in their direction; his hand released her chin but continued to slide it down her neck to her chest where it flexed over the softness of her breast and squeezed it hard. Stephanie flinched and had to bite her lip to keep from lashing out at him. The man smiled and then pinched her nipple before he released his hold. Still smiling, he whispered something in her ear and then laughed as he stepped away from the wagon and turned to join the others.

Sensing that Stephanie had reached the end of her control, Manuel placed one hand on her shoulder and flicked the reins with the other. Stephanie followed the man's silent plea but stole a glance at her offender. She drew in a deep breath to calm the anger that was welling up inside of her. Somehow, someway, that bastard would pay. And not just because of what he'd done to her, but for all the other women who had undoubtedly been humiliated by his hand. She reached up and patted the older man's hand that still rested on her shoulder. Her anger had subsided, but her resolve hadn't.

oOoOo

For the past fifteen minutes, Tank and Lopez had been staring at each other. Lopez was good, but Tank felt confident with his staring abilities; hell, the only person he couldn't beat at this game was Ric. Tank narrowed his eyes just a fraction in an attempt to bring their little contest to an end. When Lopez blinked, Tank smiled. Yes! Still undefeated.

"Ready to get down to business?" Tank asked the detective.

Still fuming at the way Tank had duped him and Miller with the knockout drops, Lopez waited another couple of minutes before he answered. "What business?"

"I'm going crazy sitting around here doing nothing, so I thought maybe the two of us could start digging around in some of Miguel's favorite haunts in Little Havana, see what we can come up with."

Lopez nodded his agreement. "Too bad Miller had to go back to Vegas. I was just getting to like the guy."

"Your family from Cuba?" Tank asked Lopez, even though he already knew the answer.

"Yes, second generation American," Lopez replied with pride.

"Any family still there?" Tank queried.

"Not much. Grandmother and some cousins," Lopez answered. "My grandfather and two uncles were killed fighting alongside your friend's father."

Tank observed Detective Lopez for a few beats before stepping close enough to clap him on the back. "Feel like having some lunch? I know where we can find the best beans and rice in Miami."

"You're buying," Lopez said as the two men left the building and walked out into the bright sunlight. "And after the little stunt you pulled on me last night, you're going to throw in a nice cigar, too."

Tank's laughter was sudden and rocked his whole body. "You're on, man."

oOoOo

Miguel steered the large bulky automobile through the narrow streets of downtown Havana. Just another reminder of why he hated life here. The streets looked like they had been caught in an automobile time warp from the '60s. He wished the women here could see the sleek, fast and modern sports car that he drove when he was in the United States; all of them would be willing to give him favors. Smiling, he emitted what sounded like a dry chuckle behind his sneering smile. He was lucky that his name got him all the favors he wanted both from the women and the men. At least here, his name alone would get him most anything he wanted, anything but the location of his cousin's new wife.

He parked the car in front of the hotel he was staying at and slammed the door; Miguel's face lost the smile it had been wearing. He needed to find the new Mrs. Manoso soon or he, too, would be forced to hide from the soldiers. He hoped that his involvement in tomorrow's search would prove how serious he was about locating the woman. Then again, if they came up empty, it could deepen his troubles with his father.

With his next thought, the smile returned to his face, if they were lucky enough to find her then he would be there to start questioning her immediately. And after he and one of the other commanders were finished with her, it would be his turn to question her in private. Oh yes, he was going to enjoy questioning her for a long, long time. He grabbed his crotch and gave it a shake, not caring that he was in public. There was no one here to fear, he was a Manoso!