by Patti Sheehy
Absorbed in thought, Flores rifled through some papers. Although defections were uncommon, he had seen them before. Several worms had taken it upon themselves to abandon their country after the escape of Frank Mederos in the late sixties. But standard protocol was followed. Hence, they were usually apprehended and suffered the consequences.
This case was different. Damian Baez was one of the most talented and dedicated members of the force. His family had a history of loyalty to the Party, and demonstrated unwavering dedication to the cause. He couldn’t imagine that Damian would defect.
The fact that he had was out of character for this ardent young man, and the fact that he did so without leaving a trace was even more troubling. Something about this case didn’t add up. Damian had been labeled a worm, but Flores had his doubts.
The captain placed his pencil behind his ear and reclined in his chair. He had been thinking about this issue for a while, and he still had no answers.
He stood, yawned, and looked out the window. No rain had fallen in weeks. For a few minutes, he watched the birds peck at the hard, dry earth. The poor things can’t even find a worm. The captain smiled at the irony. And neither can I. He sighed, heavyhearted. Maybe I’m getting too old for this work. Maybe I’m losing my edge.
Flores sat down, reached to the credenza, and switched on the radio. He liked to listen to The Voice of America. The station was funded by the United States government and provided news on a wide range of topics.
The captain had listened to the programming for several years and enjoyed the music, especially the Beatles’ songs. Periodically, Fidel tried to jam the signal, but Flores disagreed with that policy. He felt the military was better off knowing what the enemy was up to than not.
The captain settled himself in his chair and listened to the news—the weather, the state of the economy, the upcoming elections. Routine stuff—nothing out of the ordinary.
As he was about to turn the dial, his face froze. He extended his hand to increase the volume. The report was clear and succinct. A man with an authoritative voice stated that reliable sources from Alpha Sixty-six had reported that a member of Cuba’s Special Forces, Damian Baez, had been shot and killed in the hills of northern New Jersey in a failed assassination attempt on the life of a former member of Cuba’s Special Forces who had defected to the United States in 1967.
As a result, four Cuban operatives had been assassinated in Union City, and two more had been killed at the group’s operational headquarters in Miami. The victims in Miami included First Lieutenant Franco of Unit 2572 of the Santa Maria base in Havana.
Flores closed his eyes. As he was trying to piece the puzzle together, his door opened. A messenger dropped a manila envelope stamped top secret on his desk. Flores opened it and rifled through a stack of photographs. First Lieutenant Franco was pictured in a restaurant with a sign in the background that read Miami. Private Damian Baez sat at his side. The two were engrossed in conversation. Another photograph placed Baez in Union City. It all made sense.
Flores pursed his lips, fuming. Then he picked up the phone and barked one sentence to his secretary: “Get the Commander General on the phone, and do it pronto. I need to talk to him about Captain Pino.”
“Right away, sir.”
Flores slammed down the receiver, stared out the window, and smiled smugly. Well, the chickens have finally come home to roost. This time there’s no way out for Pino. This time it’s treason.
And this time we’re going to execute the bastard.
EPILOGUE
In 1981, Mrs. Mederos came to the United States to visit Frank and his brother Carlos, who had escaped Cuba during the Mariel Boatlift. After her arrival, she applied for and was granted political asylum. She now lives in Florida, and Frank visits her several times a year.
In addition to Carlos, Frank’s brothers Robert and Raúl also escaped Cuba. His widowed sister and her three sons live in Cuba, and her daughter lives in Mexico. Frank’s brother George and his wife still live in Cuba along with their son, daughter, and grandchildren.
Shortly after the incident in the woods, Frank married his girlfriend Chris. They have two sons and live and work in New Jersey. Frank credits Chris with giving him the will to go on with his life. Darlene lives not far from her father.
In the spring of 2011, Frank took advantage of relaxed government regulations regarding Cuban visitation and returned to his homeland for the first time in forty-four years. He was astounded to receive a warm and enthusiastic welcome from family and friends in his hometown of Guanabacoa. He visited again in 2012.
Frank found the living conditions in his former country to be deplorable. After fifty years of communist rule, many people had given up their fight for freedom. He was saddened to see them resigned to their fate.
Frank donated all the money and possessions he had with him at the time to his Cuban friends and relatives, including his hat, his watch, and his belt.
Following the incident in the woods, Frank had several talks with Lazo. The information he obtained served, in part, as the basis for this book. After his time in the States, Lazo returned to his position at the oil refinery and continued to work for the CIA.
However, when Frank went to visit Lazo’s home in 2012, he found it to be nothing more than a pile of rubble. No one knew of Lazo’s whereabouts, nor had they heard from him or his family in years.
Frank will continue to visit Cuba, and he hopes to be reunited with his friend Lazo someday.
Frank still suffers from nightmares, but they occur far less frequently.
The drum of the blue-eyed boy has been silent since 1980.