AllFreeNovel
Share Us
To Zack it felt like he was walking through the insides of an American basketball arena. The concrete, the wide hallways, the high ceilings.
But the lighting was better, everything was clean, and pleasing music permeated the space.
The interior even smelled good, and paintings, apparently by Cuban artists, lined the walls on both sides of the hall, bathed in individual picture lamps.
Anton Hinton stepped up next to Zack as they all walked towards an open door nearly fifty yards away. “We have our own power generator for when the juice isn’t flowing from the government power lines. We have oil and fuel storage here, as well.
“We’re basically a small city, since we also run a four-story lab in the center of the university nearby.”
“You run it? You don’t own it?”
Hinton shrugged. “It’s Cuba, the state owns everything. Even this place.” He smiled. “But we always pay the rent on time.”
Zack scanned around, still in awe at the entrance to the property. “Are your other seventeen homes like this?”
Hinton laughed, clapped his hands. “No, not at all. This is by far the biggest. Some of my places are actually very minimalist, believe it or not.”
“What’s your definition of minimalist?”
“I have a fishing shack in Norway, it’s no larger than one of the old guard shacks here. Yeah, it’s on a hundred hectares, but it’s actually pretty modest.”
They passed through the next door, and here Zack found a small security office occupied by both men and women, security cameras seemingly covering everything inside the building and out, and behind it what looked like the lobby bar of an upscale hotel. Past this was a bank of four large elevators.
“How many levels?”
“A ground floor and three underground levels, but we don’t use the bottom one for anything more than storage. Most of the living and common areas are up here, and most of the bedrooms are one and two floors down.” Anton motioned to the bar. “Why don’t you have a drink with Gareth at our bar? I’ll go to my room and take a shower.” Before Zack could say anything, Anton called out to his assistant. “Kimmie, could you get Zack a map?”
“Of course.” A folded paper map appeared from her shoulder bag, and Zack took it.
Now Kimmie held the elevator open and Anton stepped in. Zack remained on the floor, but the New Zealand native turned around to him. “So, Zack. Any great concerns about my safety?”
“We trust these Cubans?”
Anton stood next to Kimmie, but he himself reached over and held the door open so he could continue talking to Zack. “I’ve kept a place here for almost six years. My safety is their job security. I don’t think I can mitigate risk any better than that.”
“Okay.”
“For the record, I don’t support communism at all, but this nation is quasi-commie at best, and I can get behind that. Lots of people here are generating wealth for themselves and the nation. Cuba is my largest property, but only because I like to run my research out of here. No prying eyes, no other companies snooping around. The Cubans keep me away from all the capitalists who would steal my work.”
“Right.”
Anton winked. “Enjoy your evening. Tomorrow morning I’ll show you the lab.”
“I’ll be ready.”
The elevator closed, and Wren stepped up to Zack now. “Long flight. How about that drink?”
•••
Ten minutes later Zack and Wren sat at the bar on the ground floor. Zack accepted a mojito when the attractive Cuban female bartender offered it to him unbidden. He took a sip, then fought a grimace. The rum drink was sweetened with fresh sugar cane, and it was not really Hightower’s thing.
Unasked, Wren said, “All our employees here are vetted; they all sign an NDA that I strictly enforce.”
“How many people on the property?”
“Normally about ninety.”
Zack was stunned by the number. “You’re kidding.”
