When We Left Cuba(78)
“Because you don’t believe I possess such softness?”
“Because you strike me as the kind of woman who never forgets when she is crossed, and what Fidel did to you and your family was a truly abominable thing. Who could forget a murdered twin?”
“Have I ever told you how much I dislike being manipulated?”
He smiles. “Do you, now?”
“I do.”
“Besides, given the London incident, we now know you aren’t squeamish about taking a life.”
I flinch.
“You know, despite what you may think, I like you. You did good work in London. There’s no reason that we can’t make this more permanent, that we can’t continue the job we’re doing together if—when—Fidel falls.
“You could be one of my assets. You speak several languages. Know the right people to be able to travel in influential circles and pick up interesting tidbits of conversation. It doesn’t even have to be Cuba; we could send you to Europe. Your mother has a cousin who is married to an ambassador there, doesn’t she?
“Besides, even if you succeed with Fidel, things will be tumultuous in Cuba for a very long time as the power struggle shakes itself out, as people adjust to their new leadership. Having eyes and ears within the country would be useful to us.”
“You don’t know me as well as you think you do, if you believe I would spy on my countrymen and help the Americans.”
He laughs. “The Americans? Look around you, Miss Perez. You’re practically living with an American senator. Who took you and your family in when your lives were in danger? Where do you call home now? Do you really think your father’s going to leave his growing sugar empire behind? What about your sister Isabel, who is married to an American? Or Elisa and her child? Juan Ferrera has never set foot in Cuba. Do you really think he will move his family to Cuba if Fidel falls? How many of your friends have left and found new lives abroad? Do you really think things will go back to the way they were before? That people will simply accept the old way of doing things without a fight?”
“I didn’t agree with the old way of doing things.”
“Perhaps not. Maybe you liked to tell yourself that, even as you benefited from your father’s wealth and power.
“There is no room for idealism in this world anymore. This fight with the Soviets is not about Cuba. It is broader, and the Soviets are a formidable enemy. Do you think they will simply let their dreams of supporting communism in Cuba fall? We will not defeat them in one blow, in one country, but over many, many years. You look to Cuba, and I look beyond that to the world. You have an opportunity here to do more. Cuba is one island. If you work for me, you will accomplish far more than that.”
“You look too far ahead. I have not yet killed Fidel, and there is no promise that I will be able to do so.”
“Whether you kill Fidel or not, the battle will continue on. Only a fool would not look ahead. Is your hesitation your focus on Cuba, or is it something else entirely?”
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”
“Is your relationship with Preston going to be a problem?”
“Why would it be a problem? And how did you know to find me here?”
Dwyer smiles. “We’ve known about the two of you for quite some time, of course. That we’ve chosen to remain quiet about it is a testament to our belief in your ability to complete this mission. If you were unable to, however . . .”
The threat lingers in the air between us, unspoken yet so very clear.
“At first you dangle a carrot in front of me—the opportunity for a more permanent job—and this is, what, the stick?”
“If you’d like to look at it that way, then fine. Senator Preston’s political ambitions are quite impressive. That former fiancée of his would have been a great help. Her family was so well-connected, and she was quite lovely. Why did their engagement end so suddenly?”
I flinch again.
“The public wants a moral man. A family man. Your Senator Preston has the right look, the desired pedigree, and a voting record that truly is quite impressive. It would be a shame for anything to tarnish the reputation he’s built, to threaten his dreams of reaching the White House.”
“I wouldn’t threaten me. I could also go to the press about your involvement in all of this.”
“You could,” he acknowledges. “But then I would be forced to share the details of our arrangement, and Senator Preston’s involvement wouldn’t look good from any angle. Nor would the events in London, your involvement with the Miami group. Scandals do have a way of removing that layer of shine he’s worked so hard to develop.”
I laugh, despite the sinking feeling in my stomach, the urge to cry.
“You do realize the vast majority of Washington is sleeping with someone they aren’t married to,” I bluff. “He’s a single man now.”
“Yes, but that’s Washington. Perhaps your affair was contained to whispers at parties, and yes, he is now single. But you vastly underestimate the damage something like this can do when the secret of it is not protected within tight circles. Besides, it’s not the same as a man having some fun with one of Hollywood’s most prominent actresses or the like. People can understand that even if they denounce it in their church pews on Sunday morning.