Deep Undercover

Author's note: This is a work of fiction. All characters are fictitious and over the age of eighteen. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter 2

Dana awoke with a pounding in her head and a feeling of nausea deep in her stomach–an experience which was no doubt worsened by the gentle but constant rocking of the bed upon which she found herself. She forced her crusted eyelids open, but regretted that decision almost as soon as it was made. The light stabbed her retinas through her wide-open pupils, searing the back of her brain with the intensity of a supernova. She snapped her eyes shut and covered her head with the heavy comforter blanketing her aching body.

Where in the hell am I? What happened? Why am I feeling like such shit?

Slowly opening her eyelids, Dana stole a glance from beneath the duvet. The stabbing in the back of her brain returned as she focused her vision. The setting was unfamiliar, but the rocking motion revealed all she needed to know.

Fuck! I'm still on the goddamned boat! And I'm still naked! Where the fuck are Harris and Espinoza?

Dana crawled out of bed and shuffled across the room to a window. She pulled the curtain to one side and peered out.

We're docked somewhere, but I don't recognize the port.

Dana ran through a quick inventory of the various marinas from which she had ever gone boating. It wasn't a long list.

Coconut Grove? No. Bayside? Definitely not. Black Point? No way. Miami Beach? Nope. Fort Lauderdale? I don't think so.

The sun was already high in the sky, and her field of vision was populated by old fishing boats and small dinghies. The few pleasure craft she saw were all smaller sized, although there were a few larger sailboats occupying slips. Off in the distance she saw a tall lighthouse attached to an old stone fort overlooking the harbor.

I have no idea where in the fuck I am.

Dana made her way to the door and checked the handle.

Unlocked–great.

She turned the handle, pulled the door open, and peered out into the hallway. She didn't see anyone. She took one step through the doorway and then changed her mind. She returned to the bed, put her head beneath the covers, and cried.

An hour later there was a knock at the door. Dana poked her head from beneath the blanket and listened. The knock repeated. Dana held her breath and laid motionless. She feared that her pounding heartbeat would give her away, but the door remain closed.

* * * *

Dana was unable to go back to sleep. Despite her best efforts, she was also unable to formulate any kind of a plan. She knew that she was aboard a private yacht owned by a very dangerous drug kingpin. She was naked, hung over, unarmed, and without any means of communicating with the Miami P.D. Also onboard were an undetermined number of men–all armed–who worked for the drug lord. She had no idea where she was, but the available evidence suggested that she was no longer in the U.S.

Crespo would never take the risk of docking in an American port.

Her concentration was broken by another knock on the door. She froze. This time, the knock was accompanied by a voice.

"Senorita? Are you awake?"

Dana recognized the man's voice.

I can't hide beneath these blankets forever.

"Come in," she answered.

The door opened and her host slipped through the door.

"Good afternoon, lovely lady," the dark haired man said. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better."

"I'm not surprised. Last night you drank nearly an entire bottle of my best Tequila."

"This doesn't feel like a mere hangover."

"You don't remember much, do you?"

"I remember you violating my ass."

"Ah, yes–that is a memory we both share. It's one that I will always cherish."

"'Cherish' isn't exactly the way I'll look back on it."

"Do you remember much of what followed?"

"I'm a little fuzzy on the details."

"You sampled a little of every substance that was offered to you. At least half a dozen of my guests enjoyed your company. In fact, more than one tried to take you home as they departed. You finally passed out around four a.m. That's when I put you to bed in my stateroom and posted a guard outside your door."

"No wonder I feel like shit."

What have I done?

"Unfortunately, we don't have much time for you to recover. I let you sleep as long as I could, but we're expecting guests in an hour. Take a shower and get yourself cleaned up while I have the chef fix you something to eat. I'll be back in thirty minutes with your food."

"The chef is still here?" Dana's eyes opened wide.

He can get me a phone, at least. And he has a gun. There may be a way out of here.

"He didn't go back to shore?"

"My personal chef always travels with me. He prepared all the delicacies I served in the VIP room, and some of the food for the lower level, as well. The rest was done by some line cook out of Miami. He packed up and left just before we departed."

Dana's heart sank. A lump formed in her throat, but she forced herself not to cry.

I won't–not in front of him.

The man turned to leave.

"Can I ask one more question?" Dana said.

"Of course."

"Where are we?"

"Marina Hemingway."

"And that is ...?"

"I'm sorry. Havana Harbor."

"Havana? Cuba?" Dana's jaw dropped.

"Of course."

The man walked out of the stateroom, closing the door behind him.

A flood of tears streamed down Dana's cheeks.

What happened to the surveillance and pursuit? They were supposed to be watching me. Not only am I outside the U.S., but I'm in the one place in North America where there is absolutely no hope of rescue.

* * * *

Dana took a long hot shower. There was an assortment of soaps and shampoos in high-end packaging to choose from, but none of the products were familiar to her. Every surface, fixture and accessory in the shower spoke of luxury and class, but the dim memories of the previous night left her feeling like a filthy whore. No matter how much she scrubbed, she could not cleanse herself of the shame and guilt that stuck to her like raw sewage.

How many men did I fuck last night? Levan will never forgive me. If I ever see him again.

After ten minutes Dana shut off the water. She dried herself off, wrapped her hair in a towel, and searched through the cabinets for cosmetics. She found a box of new toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste. She found some women's deodorant, razors, and several bottles of perfume. In another cabinet she found a hair dryer, some mousse, and a brush. She was looking for make-up when the door opened and her host returned.

"Are you ready? The chef prepared a wonderful brunch for you."

Dana exited the bathroom. She managed to look radiant despite her lingering nausea.

"Do you have anything I can wear? I seem to have misplaced my clothes."

"You weren't wearing any, lovely lady." The man smiled and pointed to a closet. "Inside that door to your right is a robe you can use. We found a skirt and tank top in the entertainment salon, but I don't think you really want to wear those, do you?"

Dana opened the closet door and removed a fluffy white robe.

"I'll take this, thank you."

"Very good." The man's smile gleamed. "Have a seat."

The host walked over to a small table and pulled back the chair. Dana sat in the seat. He removed the dome from a silver tray revealing a plate of food, a glass of orange juice, and a small cup of coffee.

"Eggs benedict with stone crab, a chocolate croissant, and fresh squeezed orange juice. And café con leche. Enjoy."

"Can I have some water, please?"

"Of course, of course. My apologies."

The man departed.

Dana poked at her plate, picked up the croissant, and took a bite. She washed it down with a sip from the steaming coffee cup. She tasted the eggs, and sipped her juice. The man returned with two bottles of ice cold water.

"Here you are," he said as he set the bottles down on the table. "Once again, I apologize."

"Thank you, Señor ... I'm sorry, I don't recall your name."

The man chuckled.

"Last night you called me

El Jefe

. I'm Jorge–Jorge Las Casas."

Dana nearly choked on her water.

Las Casas? I'm so fucked. So fucking fucked.

After a long pause in which Dana recalled every conversation she had overheard between Harris, Espinoza and Hendricks regarding the drug lord, she asked, "Um, who are you entertaining?"

"I'm glad you asked. We are being honored with a visit from El General Eduardo Torres. He is a senior officer in the Cuban military."

"I see. And, to what do you owe this honor?"

"I have business with the Castro regime. El General Torres is the government liaison. His portfolio includes all ports on this side of the island."

"OK. I'm not sure that I follow."

Las Casas sighed.

"I maintain friendly relations with the Cuban government. I supply cash and other things of value to certain government officials. In return, I am allowed to travel in their waters and port here whenever necessary. This arrangement allows me to evade the United States Coast Guard, the DEA, and the U.S. Navy. They can't follow me here. It is a service that I find extremely valuable whenever I am traveling the Caribbean between North and South America."

"Do you have similar arrangements with any other governments?"

"That, my dear, is none of your business. Now, finish your breakfast. The General will be here in a few minutes."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"You are my co-host. Now hurry up and get yourself ready."

"What am I supposed to wear? This robe?"

"The robe won't be necessary. The General will prefer you in your natural state."

Dana was unable to speak. She stared at Las Casas with eyes the size of golf balls.

* * * *

Las Casas escorted Dana to the entertainment salon. Stepping through the doorway, Dana recalled the debauchery of the previous night. She was surprised to see that the room had been cleaned to a pristine state. The odors of alcohol and smoke from the previous night were gone; the furniture was all arranged into cozy conversation areas; every surface was polished to a sparkle. The room was almost unrecognizable from the night before.

Las Casas took Dana's robe and draped it over the back of a chair. He directed Dana to sit, and then sat himself in the adjacent seat. A few moments later there was a knock on the salon door, and then the door opened. An elderly gentleman in a green and red military uniform entered the room. He was followed by two gorgeous young women wearing matching red dresses. The dresses revealed a fair amount of cleavage as well as miles of tanned leg. One woman carried a sealed wooden box. The other carried a garment bag.

"El General Torres." Las Casas stood and shook the older man's hand.

"Señor Las Casas, my old friend." The General embraced Las Casas, and then turned toward Dana. "And who is your lovely companion?"

"This lovely lady is Lydia Zapata," Las Casas said. "She came aboard my boat last night, and chose to accompany me for a while. How could I turn her away?"

"Indeed. I would have questioned your manhood if you had. There are pills for that, you know?"

Both men burst out laughing. Dana blushed, while the women accompanying General Torres rolled their eyeballs.

The General eyed Dana from head to toe. Dana felt her entire body flush. Her nipples became rigid, and goose bumps covered her arms. She caught herself futilely attempting to cover her nudity with her hands, and willed herself to let them drop to her sides. The General reached for Dana's hand, bent at the waist, and planted a gentle kiss on the back of her wrist.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Lydia." The General's eyes gleamed. "Very pleased."

"Thank you, El General," Dana replied.

"Jorge, please allow me to present my companions." The General released Dana's hand. He waived his arm in the direction of the two women flanking him. "These are the Velez sisters. This sweet thing is Micaela, and this one is Ana."

The two women bowed their heads in unison.

"They are beautiful. Sisters you say?"

"Twins, actually."

"I thought so."

"How did ...?"

"Their father abandoned them when they were very small. He left on a raft for Florida. It is believed that the raft capsized, and everyone on board drowned. A few years later, their mother was arrested and convicted of fomenting dissent. It was some nasty business. She is now serving a life sentence in the Western Prison for Women, although I hear that she is in very poor health. The girls were fortunate to be taken in by the Minister of Justice, who took pity on them when they were orphaned."

"I see."

"The government put them through college, and then they served four years in the military."

"Impressive. They have done well to overcome their unfortunate circumstances. They must be very grateful to the Minister."

"They are. And to El Presidente, as well."

"Of course."

"On behalf of El Presidente Castro, it is my honor to present them to you as a sign of our appreciation for all you have done on behalf of the Revolutionary Government."

"I don't know what to say. I'm flattered."

"Ana." The general turned in the direction of the girl on his right. She handed him the wooden box. "Also, El Presidente sends you a box of Cuba's finest."

The General broke the seals on the box, opened the lid, and presented it to Las Casas. "Cohibas. They are El Presidente's personal favorite."

"Please give him my thanks. I am honored."

"Micaela." The general turned to his left. Micaela handed him the garment bag, which he in turn gave to Las Casas. "This is the clothing you asked for. The twins made the selections."

"I'm sure that their taste is exquisite." Las Casas handed the bag to Dana. "As much as I enjoy seeing you nude, there will be occasions when clothing is necessary."

Dana opened the bag and pulled out a dress. She held it up, and then checked the tag.

"Eight?" She frowned. "I'm a six."

Do I look fat?

Micaela and Ana exchanged a quick glance and a brief smile. Las Casas glared in Dana's direction, and then walked behind the bar. He returned with a metallic brief case, which he handed to the General.

"And this," he said, "is for El Presidente."

The general opened the brief case, glanced at the stacks of $100 dollar bills neatly bundled inside, and then closed it.

"Señor Castro will be most pleased."

"How much time do you have?" Las Casas asked. "Will you be staying for dinner? My chef is preparing black grouper."

"I'm sure it will be magnificent, but I'm afraid that I cannot stay. My presence is required at a Cabinet meeting later this afternoon. I can only stay for an hour or so."

"In that case, let's not waste any time. The twins will accompany me to my stateroom. Lydia will entertain you here, El General. There will be a guard outside the door. If you need anything, just ask and my man will get it for you."

Dana froze. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

"Thank you, Jorge," the General said. "You are too kind."

"It's the least I could do for an old friend."

Las Casas extended his hands in the direction of Ana and Micaela. They accepted and walked with him out the door.

* * * *

Espinoza sat across the table from Harris. His left eye was blackened from the punch Harris landed the previous night. He bowed his head, made the sign of the cross, and then plunged his spoon into the steaming bowl of plantain soup in front of him.

"Are you sure you aren't going to eat?" Espinoza asked.

"Mother fucker, how can you eat at a time like this?" Harris snarled.

"We'll get her back, I promise. But I'm not going on a hunger strike waiting for her to return. What good will that do?"

"Shut the fuck up before I blacken your other eye, you half-raccoon mother fucker. This is your fault. Now what did your contact in the Coast Guard say?"

"They tracked a boat matching the description provided by the chef. They followed it from a few miles off Key Largo to the Florida Straits. They had to call off their pursuit when it entered Cuban territorial waters. It appeared to be headed for Havana."

"Goddamn, Espinoza, we don't have any fucking contacts in Havana!"

"Keep it down, Harris. Do you want to get us both fired?"

"Right now, I don't give a fuck. We promised Dana we would keep her safe. We told her the risk was minimal. We failed, and that failure could get her killed."

"I promise you that we will get her back. But you're going to have to calm down, or we're both going to see our careers flushed down the toilet. Do you understand me?"

"Fuck off."

Harris stood up and stormed out the door.

* * * *

The General watched Las Casas and the twins leave, and then turned in the direction of Dana. His eyes narrowed and a thin smile creased his lips.

"It's almost a shame that Señor Las Casas will be dressing you. If you were mine, I would keep you just as you are now. Even without clothing, make-up or jewelry, your beauty exceeds any woman I have ever encountered in my sixty-nine years. You outshine my precious twins. I see why he treasures you. You are, indeed, a rare and exquisite jewel."

"General, you're making me blush. I'm just a poor girl who fell through a rabbit hole and woke up in a strange world I don't understand."

"Oh, sweet lady, even an old man such as myself can see that you are much more than you profess. If I didn't know better, I might even think that you are dangerous."

"Dangerous? Me? I hardly think so."

"There's more to you than meets the eye. And what meets the eye is formidable. Beautiful, but formidable. That is a dangerous combination in any world."

If I can just keep him talking until it's time for him to go ...

"I'm flattered that you think so highly of me, El General, but I'm really just a poor serving girl."

"A serving girl with the skills of a courtesan, I am told."

Uh oh.

"You've ... heard of me?"

"Señor Las Casas' men all spoke very highly of you. One of them tried to bribe me into switching places with him while your benefactor enjoys the twins. I turned him down, of course. You're something of a legend, already."

Fuck! How many dicks did I suck last night?

"I ... uh ... didn't realize I was so ... um ... famous."

"Show me how you earned your reputation."

The General gently but forcefully pushed Dana to her knees. He unzipped his pants and fished out his cock. It was fully erect and ready for action.

Dana was shocked to see the old man aroused. His manhood was not particularly long nor thick, but its appearance was no less shocking. Even fully erect the foreskin completely enveloped the head with an inch of sagging skin to spare. It was not the first uncircumcised cock she had ever experienced, but the flap of skin covering it was by far the most extensive she had ever seen.

I think I'm going to puke.

Resigned to her fate, Dana rolled back the foreskin and was relieved to see that the head otherwise appeared normal. She circled one hand around the shaft, pulling the skin taught. She then reached into the General's underwear with her other hand to retrieve his balls. The fur-covered orbs were hanging almost to his knees, it seemed.

Gross–old man balls. Could this day get any worse?

The General stood at attention while Dana licked the bashful head.

Maybe it's not so bashful. It could be that it would love to come out more often, but it gets lost in all that foreskin.

That thought caused a wave of nausea to rise up from the pit of Dana's stomach. It took all of her willpower to force the bile down her esophagus.

I'll probably be killed if I puke on him. I better get this over with as quickly as possible.