Well, I guess by now you all know Owen and I are in Cuba, and you probably know why. So, Hello! Postcard's in the mail.
Well, it took a fair bit of cash but we got into the prison last Friday afternoon. And I was right, it is our Diane. I wish it wasn't; then it would be sad and tragic but just routine -- Someone flying where they weren't supposed to be, got caught by a touchy and highly suspicious government. We'd have no responsibility.
But when the guard swung that door open, there was no mistaking that figure looking up at us. Although now she looks bruised, shaken, almost conquered. It breaks my heart to see such a strong woman like this. She couldn't talk to us much, so I can only imagine what she's been through. But I know she is a strong woman, so I have hope she'll pull through this.
We've met with Senor Lopez twice since last Friday, each time in a different seedy little pub in downtown Havana. Lopez is the man our contacts here directed us to. It seems he's not very taken with the regime here, and also has a fondness for the luxuries the American dollar can provide. He's agreed to help us break Diane out. For quite a substantial fee of course.
There are still a few elements that need to come together, but the plan is so far, that we'll be breaking her out during the wee hours of Sunday morning.
Don't try this at home, kids. And for those of you watching with keen anticipation, keep your fingers crossed for us, okay?
Oh! And hello to the new girl! Izzie, don't let them boss you around. And be careful of any drinks Jack makes you, watch him pour it. See you when I get home.