Chapter 32
-
Havana, Cuba
The building lurched and its entire frame shifted as it finally surrendered to time and neglect. The overwhelming grinding sound indicated massive structural failure.
When the limestone floor sagged toward the center of the room, Flint grabbed for support as furniture slid across the tilted surface.
“Everybody out!” an operative shouted over the cacophony. “Now!”
Flint and the others understood that hesitation meant death.
The building shook again. This time part of the ceiling collapsed near the window. Chunks of limestone and timber crashed to the floor.
Dust filled the air in a choking fog while it dimmed the amber emergency lighting to ghostly halos.
Tantanella broke away from the operatives. Obviously, he knew this building and the neighborhood. He darted toward a section of wall that looked solid but likely concealed an old service passage as if he were checking escape routes.
Flint had come too far to let Frankie and Lizzy go.
The operatives were disoriented by the collapse.
More ceiling hit the floor.
The confusion provided perfect cover for Flint to grab Lizzy’s arm. “Lizzy Pace. You’re coming with me.”
Her eyes widened when he said her name, but she didn’t move. She tried to pull away, panic rising in her voice. “I can’t leave Frankie!”
“You don’t have a choice,” Flint said, jerking her toward the exit.
“Building’s coming down,” Drake’s voice crackled through Flint’s radio. “Cuban forces regrouping north side.”
“Copy that. Coming out with witness.”
“Tantanella?” Drake asked.
“Lost track of him.”
Flint pulled Lizzy toward the stairs, dodging falling plaster. Limestone steps threatened to crumble under their weight.
The wrought-iron handrail had torn away from the wall completely. Carefully, they descended the steep colonial staircase. Each step creaked. Wood and stone ground against each other as the structure died around them.
“I can’t breathe,” Lizzy gasped, choking on the dust-filled air.
Flint lifted her arm to cover her nose and mouth as well as possible. “Keep moving.”
A massive beam crashed down behind them, blocking the stairway. The others would need to find a different way out.
The old building failed in sections, the way it had been built. Exterior walls buckled outward. The roof sagged inward. Timber supports snapped like bones.
They reached the ground floor just as another section of roof caved in behind them with a thunderous crash.
Flint jerked the weathered blue door open and pushed Lizzy into the street beyond which lay in complete darkness.
“What’s happening out here?” Lizzy whispered, her voice choked with fear.
“Power blackout affecting the whole island. Stay close,” Flint said, nudging her along.
“What about Frankie?” she asked fearfully.
“We’ll find him as soon as we can,” Flint replied.
They pushed into the panic that turned total darkness into total pandemonium. Salt water, tropical vegetation, and masonry dust filled the air.
The building collapse had awakened every resident in the area.
People poured from surrounding buildings with flashlights and candles, shouting panicked questions in rapid Spanish. Piercing sirens wailed. Dogs barked. Children cried. The narrow street echoed with voices calling for missing neighbors and family members.
“Dios mío! What happened?”
“Is anyone trapped inside?”
“Where are the bomberos?”
Flint kept his grip and moved Lizzy along through the chaos.
“I can’t see anything.” Lizzy stumbled against him as they tried to navigate through the gathering crowd.
“That’s the good news. You can’t see them, and they can’t see you. Move.”
When they were half a block away, the old building gave a loud, final, catastrophic groan. The remaining walls buckled outward, and the structure, finally, collapsed.
The crash echoed through the narrow streets louder than thunder.
Dust rose like a small volcano, creating a choking cloud that sent people running in all directions.
“My love,” Lizzy whispered, staring at the monstrous pile of rubble through streaming eyes. “Frankie was in there.”
“Not likely,” Flint said, giving her a rough shove to get her moving again. “He knows these buildings. He got out. We’ll find him or he’ll find us.”
The crowd outside was growing larger and more agitated. Without emergency services to coordinate rescue efforts, citizens were trying to organize themselves. Some called out names of people who might have been inside. Others approached the debris pile with flashlights, looking for survivors.
“Drake, we need an exit route. Too many civilians,” Flint spoke into his radio.
“I count maybe fifty people around the collapse site, more coming. Operatives withdrew to vehicles two blocks east. Tantanella isn’t with them. Cuban patrol moving south,” Drake replied while scanning the scene. “Take the alley west of your current position, away from the crowd.”
“Copy that.”
The blackout was now absolute except for scattered flashlights and candles in windows. Flint had a flashlight in his pocket, but it would act like a beacon if he turned it on.
Instead, he fished his phone from his pocket, opened the night vision app, and used it to lead Lizzy through the darkened alleys and away from the destruction.
She stumbled over debris in the roadway. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, as if she’d swallowed too much dust.
Her voice shook when she asked, “Who are you and where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere we can talk.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you. You don’t have a clue what you’re doing.”
Flint didn’t have time for such nonsense. “I know you faked your death twice and now you’ve been hiding for more than twenty years.”
She tried to pull away from his grip. “You can’t just kidnap me.”
“You’d already be dead if not for me. Show a little gratitude, why don’t you?” Flint replied.
When they rounded the corner, a police officer stood at the next intersection, waving a flashlight and trying to direct traffic around disabled vehicles. He was alone and overwhelmed. When citizens approached him he gestured helplessly, and they moved on.
“Help me!” Lizzy called toward the officer in Spanish. “This man is taking me against my will!”
The officer looked up through the darkness and waved them past the intersection. He had bigger problems at the moment than what must have appeared to be a domestic dispute.
“Come on before something worse happens,” Flint said, pulling her along.
They continued through the maze of darkened streets following Drake’s suggestions from the radio. Citizens with flashlights moved past them in both directions, some heading toward the collapse site to help, others fleeing the area to avoid more unstable buildings.
“Why are you doing this?” Lizzy asked, planting her feet firmly where she stood.
Flint gave her a little jerk to move her along.
“Right turn ahead,” Drake’s voice came through the radio. “Clear path for two blocks.”
After several minutes of moving through the darkness they reached a small, abandoned building. Three stories of weathered limestone appearing to be structurally sound but definitely vacant.
Flint guided Lizzy inside and up to the second floor.
She collapsed against a wall, breathing hard and shivering despite the humid heat.
Flint took position near a window overlooking the street. Through the darkness, residents with flashlights were still moving toward the collapse site. The immediate chaos was settling into a more organized rescue effort, but without emergency services or lighting, progress would be slow.
“Drake, status?”
“Infrastructure failure citywide. Communications down. Emergency services overwhelmed. The operatives have regrouped at their vehicles but haven’t approached the collapse site. No sign of Tantanella.”
“Official Cuban response?”
“Minimal. Maybe three officers in the immediate area, but they can’t coordinate or communicate. They’re focused on crowd control around the collapse.”
“Harbor status?”
“Patrol boats active but communications scrambled. Their usual coordination is disrupted.”
Flint studied the darkened streets below. The searchers had no electronic surveillance or coordinated security, which meant he and Drake had the advantage. But it wouldn’t last forever.
“Are you going to kill me?” Lizzy asked suddenly.
Flint looked at her. Fear had replaced the exhaustion in her eyes. Years of hiding had taught her that men with guns were rarely good news.
“What sense does that make? If I wanted you dead, I could have left you back there.”
“Then what do you want?”
“To get you out of Cuba alive.”
“And then?”
“Then you answer some questions, and we decide what happens next.”
She stared at him in the darkness. When she spoke again, her voice was barely audible. “What kind of questions?”
“Drake, initiate movement to harbor,” Flint said into his radio.
“Copy that. Moving to overwatch position.”
Flint turned back to Lizzy. “Time to go.”
She wiped her eyes and slowly stood up. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“So do I.”