Chapter Two
By the time Barbara got back to the apartment, the football game was long forgotten. She had to make a decision, and quickly. The conference started on Wednesday, and this was Sunday afternoon. If she were going to get Costa, she only had a short time to figure out when and how. She would be taking a chance, trying it with such a short lead time. Plus, doing it at the conference added an extra degree of difficulty, because intelligence services from all over the world would be there protecting their people, and the FBI and Miami police would also be out in force.
Putting these considerations aside, Barbara started thinking about the details. If she could get a flight to Miami today, she could start work tomorrow morning. She called the airport. There was a flight to Miami at 6:00. She also called a hotel she had used before in Miami. There were rooms available, despite the conference; it was just a small hotel, off the beaten track. She'd still have to contact Syd before she left to make sure everything could be in place tonight. After she had the information, she sat back to think. It was 3:00.
During the ordeal when the Agency had sanctioned her, when she'd met Robert, she had decided she'd had enough of the Red Line. She was finished with the killing. That's what she'd told Robert. Yet a recalcitrant voice in her head was insisting that she had never promised anything. COULD she change her mind? Yesterday she would have said no. Today, she wasn't sure. This was Carlos Costa. Despite the fact that his name was on every international terrorist watch list, there were no pictures of him; almost nobody knew what he looked like. Barbara had seen him face to face. She could identify him. Naturally this meant that he could identify her, too. An additional degree of difficulty, she thought dryly.
Then there was the other question. What were the Cubans doing with him in their official delegation? She guessed that even they would think twice about having an internationally wanted terrorist in a delegation from their country. Could it be that they didn't know he was Costa? After all, with no pictures of him, he might be posing as someone totally different.
It was already 3:30. She had to decide now.
She called the airline and booked the flight; then she secured a room at the hotel, all of it using a credit card under the name Amanda Perkins. After changing into clothes appropriate for Miami, she packed a small bag. The last thing she did before she left the apartment was to write Robert a note.
"Dearest Robert, I'm leaving for a few days. Everything's fine, don't worry. I'll call if I can. See you soon. Love, Barbara."
When she got down to the street, she used the phone again to call Syd. The Miami contact agreed to leave a suitable car at Miami International and to secrete several weapons in a compartment in the trunk. The keys would be placed where Barbara could find them.
She took a taxi to JFK and left on the Delta flight punctually at 6:00.