Risen To The Top

CHAPTER 69

Hernandez paused in the midst of yanking a handful of shirts from the shelf in his tiny closet to wipe the back of one wrist across his sweaty face. Lord, he was soaked. He dragged a small duffel bag from the closet floor and shoved the clothes inside. No matter how he tried to control it, he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. He hadn’t been lying when he’d called in sick to work earlier. He was sick. He’d already thrown up once and his stomach still churned as if it might bring up the light breakfast he’d eaten just before sunrise. That sick feeling in his gut was why he’d decided to run. The authorities were closing in on him, he felt it. Whether it was the Americans or Cubans or the Connery family who eventually took him out was irrelevant at this point. Hernandez had no intention of suffering torture or imprisonment for his part in this operation. He’d already fulfilled his obligation to the organization behind all this and now he wanted out. But how could he do that?