ABSTRACT
With its windows rolled down, the MINREX Cadillac roared east out of Havana along the Carretera Central, the island's central highway, which had been constructed nearly forty-five years earlier toward the close of the Machado dictatorship. As the car sped along, the morning's cool air from the open windows continually ruffled Catalina's hair. More than once, David wished he could lean over to brush away the wisps of dark hair fluttering across her smooth complexion.
