Dead Man's Land by Jack Patterson (digital e reader .txt) 📕

His handler didn’t even flinch as he walked by, still staring vacantly at the door for his return.

A faint smile spread across Prado’s face, one that vanished the moment he looked toward his seat and saw one of Campos’ assistants holding Isabel. He tried to freeze the image in his mind just in case things didn’t work out.

In a matter of seconds she was no longer visible to him as he headed toward the exit. He couldn’t dwell on it now. For the next few minutes, he needed to concentrate on the task at hand if he ever expected to escape.

Prado walked briskly down the street. He watched a few kids fight for a foul ball that bounced on the street nearby. On more than one occasion, he’d been in a pack of kids trying to escape with a foul ball as well. But now he was just trying to escape with his life—and hopefully a future.

Over the public address system, a man announced that the game was over with the Nationales junior team winning the game, 8-5. The crowd began to pour into the street behind him.

Prado looked over his shoulder to see if he was being followed. He wasn’t.

Then he looked ahead, peering down the dimly lit street for Cal and Kelly. He couldn’t see anyone.

Behind him, a dull roar began followed by a series of whistles. He looked over his shoulder to see the police sprinting in his direction. He had a block head start but he wasn’t ready to assume they were after him.

Just keep your head down and keep walking.

He walked for a few more meters until he looked back and saw one of his uncle’s top lieutenants pointing at him and yelling. He glanced around to make sure he wasn’t imagining his accusatory finger. No one else was moving or seemed concerned with the disturbance. They all seemed more interested in being entertained by whatever was about to happen.

When Prado looked back, he knew they were after him.

Two police officers took off down the street, yelling for him to stop.

Prado broke into a sprint. He ran for a few more meters before he glanced over his shoulder to see one of the guards raise a gun.

Prado turned his gaze ahead and caught Cal’s eyes. “Run! Run!” he yelled in Spanish.

Cal didn’t move until Kelly yanked his arm and they took off.

Prado pumped his arms and didn’t look back. If he had, he would’ve seen one of the officers ready to squeeze off a couple of rounds in his direction. Instead, he saw a familiar face. The man was sprinting toward the police with his hands in the air.

Several shots rang out in the street. Prado glanced back to see the man staggering to the ground right in front of the officers.

Prado knew he would’ve been hit if not for the man. He darted down an alleyway in an attempt to lose the police still chasing him on foot. Sirens wailed in the distance, as he knew a full manhunt was about to commence if they didn’t leave right away.

Kelly had scrawled out a backup plan in case they didn’t make the rendezvous point in time.

Meet us at the Oeste Docks if you can’t find us. The boat leaves thirty minutes after the game ends.

Prado didn’t think that would be soon enough based on the circumstances. The water would be the first place they’d look. But at least they were going to a dock that wasn’t as heavily trafficked.

This just might work.

Not that he had any other viable options.

The direction he was running was toward the place where most of the dramatic speedboat exits occurred. Prado figured he could double back and catch up in time—but it would be close.

He darted down another tight alleyway and plastered himself to the wall as sirens blared nearby. Once they sounded like they were a safe distance away, he doubled back and started walking back down the sidewalk. In front of him was a pack of kids walking home from the game. He stopped in front of them.

“Want to trade hats?” Prado asked.

One of the boys readily agreed and Prado slipped it on. It wasn’t much of a wardrobe change but it was something. Maybe they’d be looking for the guy in the blue hat when in fact he now had a yellow one. He only had to throw them off his trail for a few minutes.

He picked up his pace. As he looked around the street, he went unnoticed by others who walked casually past him. He walked along a street that intersected with the one where the man had stepped in front of him and was shot by the police. Emergency personnel attended to him as they prepared to put him into an ambulance. Prado glanced back to see one of the medical personnel throw his hands in the air, while another man rushed over with a sheet.

He’s dead! No!

Prado wanted to cry. He wanted to know why the man risked his own life to save him. He’d have plenty of time to ponder it once he was safely off the shores of Cuba.

Stay focused.

He kept walking and went two blocks before he decided to start running toward the docks.

Less than two minutes later, he arrived. He found Kelly shivering and Cal trying to warm her by rubbing her arms.

“Where’s the boat?” Prado asked.

Cal shook his head. “They haven’t shown up yet.”

“I hope this wasn’t a set up,” Kelly said.

Before another word was spoken, Prado heard footsteps and turned to see a man racing toward him.

“I’m gonna kill you, Prado,” the man roared.

CHAPTER 41

PRADO BRACED HIMSELF for a punch but was surprised when the man dove toward his knees. In a matter of seconds, Prado was rolling on the ground, trying to fight off a man who was considerably smaller than him in stature. But it didn’t seem to matter. He was getting the best of Prado.

After a few