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dening her fear and sharpening her confidence。 Pitt had accepted her story and agreed to help her reach Castro。 And now she walked along beside him as he led her through the backcountry of Cuba as though he owned it； feeling secure and warm in the afterglow of their intimacy。
Pitt scrounged some mangoes； a pineapple； and two half…ripened tomatoes。 They ate as they walked。 Several vehicles； mostly trucks loaded with sugarcane and cirtrus fruits； passed them。 Once in a while a military transport carrying militia swept by。 Jessie would tense and look down at her tightly laced boots nervously while Pitt lifted his rifle in the air and shouted 〃Saludos amigos！〃
〃A good thing they can't hear you clearly；〃 she said。
〃Why is that？〃 he asked in mock indignation。
〃Your Spanish is awful。〃
〃It always got me by at the dog races in Tijuana。〃
〃It won't do here。 You'd better let me do the talking。〃
〃You think your Spanish is better than mine？〃
〃I can speak it like a native。 I can also converse fluently in Russian； French； and German。〃
〃I'm continually amazed at your talents；〃 Pitt said sincerely。 〃Did Velikov know you spoke Russian？〃
〃We'd have all been dead if he had。〃
Pitt started to say something and suddenly gestured ahead。 They were rounding a curve； and he pointed at a car parked by the highway。 The hood was up and someone was leaning over the fender； his head and shoulders lost in the engine partment。
Jessie hesitated； but Pitt took her by the hand and tugged her along。 〃You handle this；〃 he said softly。 〃Don't be frightened。 We're both in military uniform； and mine belongs to an elite assault force。〃
〃What should I say？〃
〃Play along。 This may be a chance to get a ride。〃
Before she could protest； the driver heard their feet on the gravel and turned at their approach。 He was a short man in his fifties with thick black hair and dark skin。 He was shirtless and wore only shorts and sandals。 Military uniforms were so mon in Cuba he scarcely gave them any notice。 He flashed a broad smile。 〃Hola。〃
〃Having motor trouble？〃 Jessie asked in Spanish。
〃Third time this month。〃 He gave a helpless shrug。 〃She just stopped。〃
〃Do you know the problem？〃
He held up a short length of wire that had rotted apart in three different places and was barely hanging together by its insulation。 〃Runs from the coil to the distributor。〃
〃You should have replaced it with a new one。〃
He looked at her suspiciously。 〃Parts for old cars like this one are impossible to find。 You must know that。〃
Jessie caught her mistake and； smiling sweetly； quickly played on Latin machismo。 〃I'm only a woman。 What would I know about mechanics？〃
〃Ah；〃 he said； smiling graciously； 〃but a very pretty woman。〃
Pitt paid little attention to the conversation。 He was walking around the car； examining its lines。 He leaned over the front end and studied the engine for a moment。 Then he straightened and stepped back。
〃A fifty…seven Chevy；〃 he said admiringly in English。 〃One damned fine automobile。 Ask him if he has a knife and some tape。〃
Jessie's mouth dropped open in shock。
The driver looked at him uncertainly； unsure of what to do。 Then he asked in broken English； 〃You no speak Spanish？〃
〃Faith and what's the matter？〃 Pitt boomed。 〃Haven't you ever laid eyes on an Irishman before？〃
〃Why an Irelander wearing a Cuban uniform？〃
〃Major Paddy O'Hara； Irish Republican Army； on assignment as an adviser to your militia。〃
The Cuban's face lit up like a camera flash； and Pitt was pleased to see that the man was duly impressed。
〃Herberto Figueroa；〃 he said； offering his hand。 〃I learn English many years ago when the Americans were here。〃
Pitt took it and nodded at Jessie。 〃Corporal Maria Lopez； my aide and guide。 She also interprets my fractured Spanish。〃
Figueroa dipped his head and noticed Jessie's wedding ring。 〃Senora Lopez。'' He tilted his head to Pitt。 〃She understand English？〃 pronouncing it 〃chee unnarstan Englaise？〃
〃A little；〃 Pitt answered。 〃Now then； if you can give me a knife and some tape； I think I can get you going again。〃
〃Sure； sure；〃 said Figueroa。 He pulled a pocketknife from the glove partment and found a small roll of friction tape in a toolbox in the trunk。
Pitt reached down into the engine； cut a few excess lengths of wire from the spark plug leads； and spliced the ends back together。 Then he did the same with the extra pieces until he had a wire that stretched from the coil to the distributor。
〃Okay； give her a try。〃
Figueroa turned the ignition key and the big 283…cubic…inch V…8 coughed once； twice； and settled into a throaty roar。
〃Magnifico！〃 shouted Figueroa happily。 〃Can I give you a ride？〃
〃How far you going？〃
〃Havana。 I live there。 My sister's husband died in Nuevitas。 I went to help her with the funeral。 Now I'm on my way home。〃
Pitt nodded to Jessie。 This was their lucky day。 He tried to picture the shape of Cuba； and he rightly calculated that Havana was very nearly two hundred miles to the northeast as the crow flies； more like three hundred by road。
He held the front seat forward as Jessie climbed in the rear。 〃We're grateful to you； Herberto。 My staff car developed an oil leak and the engine froze up about two miles back。 We were traveling to a training camp east of Havana。 If you can drop us off at the Ministry of Defense； I'll see that you get paid for your trouble。〃
Jessie's jaw dropped and she stared at Pitt with a classic expression of distaste。 He knew that in her mind she was calling him a cocky bastard。
〃Your bad luck is my good luck；〃 said Figueroa； happy at the prospect of picking up a few extra pesos。
Figueroa spun gravel on the shoulder as he quickly moved onto the asphalt； shifting through the gears until the Chevy was spinning along at a respectable seventy miles an hour。 The engine sounded smooth； but the body rattled in a dozen places and the exhaust fumes leaked through the rusted floorboards。
Pitt stared at Jessie's face in the rearview mirror。 She seemed unfortable and out of her element。 A limousine was more to her liking。 Pitt positively enjoyed himself。 For the moment； his love of old cars overcame any thoughts of danger。
〃How many miles do you have on her？〃 he asked。
〃Over six hundred and eighty thousand kilometers；〃 Figueroa answered。
〃She's still got good power。〃
〃If the Yankees ever dropped their trade embargo； I might be able to buy new parts and keep her going。 But she can't last forever。〃
〃Do you have any trouble at the checkpoints？〃
〃I'm always waved on through。〃
〃You must have influence。 What do you do in Havana？〃
Figueroa laughed。 〃I'm a cabdriver。〃
Pitt did not try to suppress a smile。 This was even better than he had hoped。 He sat back and relaxed； enjoying the scenery like a tourist。 He tried to apply his mind to LeBaron's cryptic direction to the treasure of La Dorada； but his thinking was clouded with remorse。
He knew that at some time； somewhere along the road he might have to take what little money Figueroa carried and steal his cab。 Pitt hoped he w