Free Cuba by Stephen Coonts Page A

lack of grace and self-assurance, so he was quick to appreciate the desired qualities in others.
    “I understand you have been discussing a business arrangement for the future with officials of several departments,” Vargas began.
    “That is correct, General. As you probably know, I represent a consortium of stockholders in several of the major American tobacco companies. My errand is discreet, not for public discussion.”
    Vargas certainly did know. He had a complete dossier on William Henry Chance in the upper right-hand drawer of his desk, a dossier decorated with a half dozen photos, photocopies of all the pages of Chance’s passport, and one of his entry in Who’s Who. A senior partner in a major New York law firm, Chance had represented tobacco companies for twenty-five years. That Chance was the man in Havana talking to the Cuban government was a sure signal that major money was behind him.
    Indeed, Chance was in Vargas’s office today because Fidel Castro had asked Vargas to see him.
    “Alejo,” Fidel had said, “our future depends on Cuba getting a piece of the world economy. The Americans have kept us isolated too long. If we can make it profitable for the Americans to lift the embargo, sooner or later they will. The Yankees can smell money for miles.”
    If William Henry Chance knew that Castro had personally asked Vargas to see him, he gave no sign.
    The less he understands about our government, the better, Vargas thought. He cleared his throat, and said, “I am sure you understand our concern, Señor Chance. Cuba is a poor nation, dependent on sugarcane as the mainstay of the
economy, a crop that is, as usual, a glut on the world market. Your client’s proposal, as I understand it, is to cultivate tobacco in Cuba instead of sugarcane.”
    Chance gave the tiniest nod. A trace of a grin showed on his lips. He glanced at Santana, who was scrutinizing him with professional interest, the way a cat examines a mouse.
    “Your comprehension is perfect, General.”
    “Through the years, señor, the price of tobacco on the world market has been even lower than that of sugar.”
    “This meeting shall be a great help to my clients,” Chance declared. “Here today I will show you the many benefits that will accrue in the future to the nation that keeps an open mind about tobacco. I am not talking about cigar leaf, you understand, which is a tiny percentage of the world market. I am talking about cigarette tobacco.”
    “The price of which will collapse in America when the American government ends its subsidy to American tobacco farmers.”
    “Indeed,” said William Henry Chance. “The United States government will soon cease supporting the price. But of greater interest to our clients, the government will increasingly regulate and tax the cigarette business. Plainly stated, the government is hostile to our industry. The current administration has stated that their eventual goal is to put the industry out of business.”
    Chance moved his shoulders up and down a millimeter, settled deeper into his chair. “The American public is gradually giving up the cigarette habit. In a few years the only Americans smoking will be rebellious youth and addicted geriatrics.”
    Chance leaned forward slightly in his chair and looked Alejo Vargas straight in the eye. “The future of the cigarette industry is to sell American brands to non-Americans. All over the world people in developing countries want the image American cigarettes present: prosperity, sex appeal, luxury, a rising status in the world. These images are no
accident. They have been carefully created and nurtured at great expense by the American cigarette companies.”
    Chance paused here to see if his host had anything. to say. He didn’t. Alejo Vargas sat silently with a blank, expressionless face. Not a single muscle revealed a clue about its owner’s thoughts. Through the years Alejo had had a lot of experience listening to Castro’s long-winded