Free Cuba by Stephen Coonts Page A

of
    New Age bureaucrat word? It doesn’t mean
    anything.”
    “I guess my question really is, how much force are you
    willing to use without authorization from Washington?”
    A faint smile crossed the lips of Toad
    Tarkington. Only a man who didn’t know the
    admiral would ask that question. Anyone who started
    shooting in Jake Grafton’s bailiwick had
    better be ready for a war, Toad, thought. He had
    managed to wipe off the smile by the time the admiral
    answered:
    “Whatever it takes to keep those warheads in
    American hands.”
    Pascal took his time ordering his thoughts. “Shouldn’t
    we be talking contingencies with Washington,
    Admiral?”
    Jake Grafton opened a top-secret message
    folder that lay on his desk in front of him. “I
    already sent a query to CNO. This is the answer.”
    He passed the message to Pascal. “Monitor
    weapons onload diligently, using your best
    judgmentea”…the message read, “but do not deviate from
    normal routine. Revealing presence of chemical and
    biological weapons in Cuba not in the national
    interest. Risks of transfer have been carefully
    considered at the highest level. Should risk
    assessment change you will be informed.”…The final sentence
    referred to the original message.
    “Five sentences”…”…Toad Tarkington asked when he
    had had his chance to read the message. “Only five
    sentences?”
    Reading naval messages was an art, of course.
    One had to consider the identity and personality of the
    sender, the receiver, the situation, any correspondence
    that had passed before…. The situation in Washington was
    the unknown here, Jake concluded. If the CNO had
    been at liberty to say more, he would have: Jake
    knew the CNO. The lack of guidance or
    illumination told Jake that the chief of naval
    operations wanted him to be ready for anything.
    “We’ll have to do the best we can with what we
    have,”
    the admiral said now to Pascal and Tarkington. “I
    want a plan: we need someone watching at all
    times, a quick reaction force that can meet any initial
    incursion with force, a reserve force to throw into the fray
    to absolutely deny access, and flash messages
    ready to go informing Washington of what we have done.”
    Toad and Gil Pascal nodded. A plan like this
    with the forces that the admiral had at his disposal would be
    simple to construct. No surprises there.
    “There is always the possibility that we may not be able
    to prevent hostiles from getting to the warheads, if they
    choose to try. We also need a plan addressing that
    contingency.”
    “Surely this nightmare won’t come to passea”…Gil
    Pascal said. “Your assessment of the risk differs
    remarkedly from that of the National Security
    Council.”
    “I’m sure the powers that be think it quite unlikely
    anybody will try to prevent us from removing the
    weapons from Cuba, and I agree. On the other
    hand, they must know something they can’t share with us. If the
    risk were zero, they wouldn’t have sent us here with orders
    to monitor, whatever the hell that is. Gentlemen,
    I just want to be ready if indeed we win
    the lottery and our number comes up.”
    Toad thoughtfully put the message from Washington
    back into its red folder. He pursed his lips, then
    said thoughtfully, “One thing is for suresomething is
    up.”
    Alejo Vargas thought he had the finest office in
    Havana, indeed, in all of Cuba, and perhaps he
    did. He had the whole corner of the top floor, with
    lots of glass. Through the large windows one got a
    fine view across the rooftops of Morro Castle
    and the channel leading into Havana Harbor from the sea.
    The desk was mahogany, the chairs leather, the
    carpet Persian.
    William Henry Chance paused to take in the
    view, then nodded appreciatively. He turned,
    saw the old United Fruit Company safe in the
    corner, now standing open, and the display of gold and
    silver coins from the Spanish Main under glass.
    He paused again, ran his eye over the coins just long
    enough