Coonts, Stephen - Jake Grafton 7 - Cuba

Home > Other > Coonts, Stephen - Jake Grafton 7 - Cuba > Page 41
Coonts, Stephen - Jake Grafton 7 - Cuba Page 41

by Cuba (lit)


  "And I thought you didn't like me."

  "Thank God you finally screwed up the courage

  to kiss me."

  "Wish I could nowea"...he shot back.

  Tears ran down her cheeks. She wanted to tell

  him how

  much he had meant all these years, how grateful she

  was that they shared life, and nothing came out. She put

  her hand over the mouthpiece so he wouldn't hear her

  cry.

  "Next time we're together, better not wear

  lipstickea"...he said.

  "I never wear lipstickea"...she managed, her voice

  barely under control.

  "It's a good thing, tooea"...he said, his voice

  cracking.

  The silence grew and grew.

  "Well, I gotta goea"...Toad finally said. "They

  wanna use this circuit to trade movies or

  something."

  "Yeah."

  "Vaya con Dios,

  baby."

  "You too, Toad-man."

  Toad found Jake Grafton hi Combat huddled

  with Gil Pascal, the chief of staff. He listened

  to the conversation for a moment, then realized that the admiral

  was trying to assure himself that he had adequate forces

  to win. Tonight!

  After a bit Jake turned toward Toad.

  "Let's have your two centsea"...he said.

  "If we need anything, sir, it's a bigger

  reserve. We have three V-22's with twenty-four

  marines each to go wherever they are needed. A while

  ago the CO of the carrier's marine del asked if

  he and some of his people could get in on the fun.

  He called

  Kearsarge

  and found there is one extra Osprey. It's being

  used as a backup to the first wave, but if it isn't

  needed, then it'll be an extra."

  Gil Pascal frowned. "The carrier's marines

  haven't been briefedea"...he pointed out.

  Jake glanced at Toad and raised one eyebrow.

  "Sir, I was hoping you would let me go with

  themea"...Tarkington replied cheerfully. "I'm as

  briefed as it's possible to get."...Actually, as

  Ops, Tarkington wrote the plan.

  "You've been planning to spring this on me all day,

  haven't you?"

  "I could take a satellite phone, give you a

  worm's-eye

  STEPHEN COONTS

  view of the action, let you know if there is really a

  problem."

  "Did the marine det CO approach you with this

  marvelous idea, or did you approach him?"

  Toad turned his eyes to the ceiling. "An officer

  I know well used to say, 'allyou know me." his

  "I think I know that guy tooea"...Jake said, and

  chuckled. "Oh, all right, damn ityou can

  go. Gil and I will try to hold the fort without you. If

  the backup Osprey isn't needed, you'll be part

  of the cavalry. Tell the grunts to saddle up."

  The Spanish-speaking sailor who acted as an

  interpreter shook Ocho Sedano awake.

  "Ochoea"...he said. "Ocho, a question has arisen. We

  wish to know if you are related to Hector Sedano."

  Ocho opened his eyes and focused on the interpreter,

  who appeared reasonably clear. His eyes were

  better, much better. He rolled over, men sat

  up in bed. He was still in sick bay aboard

  Hue City.

  "Welcome back to the land of the livingea"...sd the

  American sailor.

  "It is good to be aliveea"...Ocho whispered.

  "Did you ever give up hope?"

  "I suppose. I thought I would die, and was waiting

  for it. But I always wanted to live."

  The sailor grinned. This was the first American he

  had ever gotten to know, and he had a good grin, Ocho

  thought.

  "The officers want to knowea"...the sailor said, "if you

  are related to Hector Sedano."

  "He is my brother."

  "I will tell them."

  Ocho nodded, then rubbed his head and stretched. He was

  hungry and thirsty. A glass of water was sitting

  on a rolling table beside the bed, so he drained it.

  "May I have some food?"

  "I will bring some."

  Ocho looked the sailor in the eyes. "I want

  to go back to Cuba. I should never have left."

  "I will tell themea"...the sailor said, and left him

  there.

  William Henry Chance and Tommy Carmellini

  argued with Toad about how many marines wearing CBW

  suits should go into the warhead factory with them. "Just

  Tommy and Iea"...Chance said. "The more people that are in there

  the greater the chance of an accident."

  "How are you going to get your gear in there?"

  "An armload at a time. It will take a little

  longer, but with only two guys going in and out, this

  whole evolution will be safer."

  "What if the Cuban Army shows up while you're

  working?"

  "The marines can defend us until the place goes

  up."

  They were in a ready room under the flight deck

  dressing in a corner under the television set, which was

  showing a continuous briefing by the Air

  Intelligence types. Radio frequencies,

  threat envelopes, timing, call signs, weather,

  everything was on the tube.

  Carmellini was paying close attention to the

  briefers, Chance was arguing with Toad. "And I'm not

  taking a rifle or hand grenades or rations or

  any of that combat crap."

  "A pistol, then."

  "Got my own. Don't want two."

  "Why are you being so obstinate, Mr. Chance?"

  Chance sat down heavily in one of the ready-room

  chairs.

  "I guess I've got a bad feeling about this

  commando stuffea"...he said. "Charging in decked out like

  Captain America caret with rifle in hand scares

  me silly. Everybody and his brother will start

  shooting, and with cultures above-ground in vulnerable

  containers ..."...He shivered. "If we sneak in in

  civilian clothes ... well, that's what I'm

  used to. This military stuff frightens me."

  "You're going to look funny walking into a dairy in

  civilian clothes with flares on your shoulders if

  there are Cuban troops sitting around the place

  guarding the cows."

  "You're right, I know."...Chance shrugged.

  "Gonna be an adventureea"...Tommy Carmellini

  tossed in.

  "You guys are big boysea"...Toad Tarkington said.

  "I'm not going to nursemaid you. But this isn't a

  gamea lot of lives are at stake. If you

  screw this up and we gotta go back in there later and

  fix it, you guys better be dead. Don't bother

  coming back."

  Toad said it matter-of-factly, as if he were

  discussing a payroll deduction. Chance suddenly

  felt small.

  "Okayea"...he said. "Two other guys in CBW

  suits. But I'm in charge. If I go down,

  Tommy is."

  "Fineea"...sd Toad Tarkington, and went to find an

  encrypted telephone.

  Terror wasn't going to be enough to keep Alejo

  Vargas in office. He knew that. He could put the

  fear of God in the little sons of bitches and keep it

  there, bu
t to sleep nights in Fidel's house he was

  going to have to govern the country, to give a little here, a

  little there, and so on. He was prepared to do thathe had

  watched Fidel manipulate these people all of his

  adult life.

  Today he sat in his office at the Ministry

  of the Interiorhe had had no time to move to the

  presidential palacereceiving the members of the

  Council of State, of which he was the president.

  "Senor Ferrara, it is a pleasure to see you

  again."

  Ferrara was short, fat, and wheezed when he moved.

  He was a member of the'Council of State and the

  minister of electric power. He dropped into a

  chair across the desk from Vargas and wiped his forehead

  with a handkerchief.

  "Good day, Senor President."

  Colonel Santana handed Vargas Ferrara's

  affidavit. Vargas merely glanced at the

  signature, then laid it in his top right-hand drawer

  with the others. He didn't read it because he knew

  exactly what the affidavit containedan emo-

  tional eyewitness account of the murder of Ratil

  Castro by Hector Sedano. Vargas and

  Santana had drafted the document this morning.

  Before each member of the Council of State met with

  Vargas, Santana presented them with an

  affidavit for signature. Most intuitively

  understood that signatures were mandatory, and those that

  didn't had the facts of life explained

  to them. So far, all had signed.

  "I appreciate your support in this matter,

  Ferrara."

  "I will be frank with you, Vargas. That document

  means nothing."...He gestured toward the desk drawer.

  "You may be able to crack the whip in Havana, but the

  people do not support you. They want Hector Sedano

  in the presidential palace."

  "They will find a place in their heart for me."

  "Fidel Castro lasted for over forty years because he

  had the support of the people. The members of the National

  Assembly, the Council of State, the ministers,

  could not oppose him because they had no base of

  support. The Department of State Security

  didn't control the population Fidel did."

  "He did not tolerate opposition, nor will I."

  Ferrara said nothing.

  What was it about Ferrara? Something was in the files, but

  he hadn't looked at that file in years, and now it

  was gone. "Was it your daughter?"

  Ferrara's face became a mask.

  "Your daughter... something about your daughter..."

  He stared into Ferrara's eyes.

  "Help me a little."

  Even Ferrara's wheezing had stopped.

  "Maybe it will come to me."...Alejo Vargas leaned

  back in his chair. "Or maybe I will forget

  completely."

  Santana came in just then, handed him a sheet of

  paper, and said, "The ambassador to the United

  Nations received this note from the American UN

  ambassador."

  "Thank you for stopping by, Senor Ferrara. I

  appreciate

  you executing this affidavit. I look forward to working

  with you in the future. Good day."...Ferrara went.

  Vargas read the note. "Any other American

  reaction to my speech or their president's?"

  "Yes,

  sir.

  As we expected, the American pundits generally

  support their president, but there are many who feel

  the United States has goaded Cuba

  into military adventurism with their political

  shunning of Castro. This feeling is widespread in

  Europe. Around the world there are many who feel that

  Cuba has endured much oppression at America's

  hands."

  Vargas nodded. All the world roots for the underdog.

  'The American carrier battle group that

  was in Guantanamo is now south of the Isle of

  Pines. They have only a few planes aloft."

  "And General Alba? Is he getting troops

  into position around the silos?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Make sure the air force is on full alert, the

  army, the navy, the antiaircraft missile

  batteries, everyone. If the Americans come we will

  bloody their nose, perhaps even launch a missile.

  One missile will teach them a bitter lesson. They

  have never seen anything like that virus: they will have no

  stomach for it. The error of their ways is about

  to become quite apparent."

  "You do not believe this 'massive retaliation"

  threat?"

  "It is laughableea"...he scoffed. "No American

  president will ever order the use of weapons of mass

  destruction, even in retaliation. The Americans

  stopped making war years agothey use force to send

  messages to "bad" governments, never to kill

  the civilians who support that government. Guilt

  is the new American ethic: they would be horrified

  at the murder of the hungry."...He waved his hand

  dismissively, then became deadly serious:

  "The Yanquis may, however, screw up

  the courage to use force against our armed forces. If

  so, the Cuban people will rally to the flag and we shall

  heroically defend our

  national honor. And use the missiles to show them the

  error of their ways."

  "Cubans are patriotsea"...Santana agreed.

  "After the Bay of Pigs, Castro was president for

  life."

  "A man with the right enemies can do anythingea"...Vargas

  declared, and smiled.

  While Alejo Vargas and Colonel Santana

  were conferring in Havana, the Americans opened

  fire. Three Spruanceclass destroyers that had

  sailed from Mayport soon after sunrise were now

  fifty miles off the Florida coast headed south,

  well away from the coastal shipping lanes. They

  began launching Tomahawk cruise missiles from

  the vertical launchers buried in the deck in front

  of their bridges. Although each ship carried

  forty-eight Tomahawks in their vertical launch

  tubes, they only launched twenty missiles

  each.

  On the bridge of USS

  Comte de Grasse

  the captain watched with binoculars as his

  missiles leveled out from then- launch climb and

  disappeared into the sea haze. One of the missiles

  dove into the ocean, making a tiny splash.

  "There went three million bucksea"...he muttered.

  After the launch was complete, he called down

  to Combat on the squawk box. "How many

  successfully launched?"

  "Nineteen, sir."

  "And the other ships?"

  "Twenty and eighteen, Captain."

  "What is the time of flight?"

  "An hour and twenty minutes, sir."

  "Very well. Report the launch."

  Not bad, the captain thought, and gave orders

  to secure from General Quarters.

  God help the Cubans, he thought, then turned to the

  navigator to discuss the voyage to the Florida

  Straits, where

  Comte de Grasse

  and her sister ships would join the Aegis cruisers

  already there.

  Aboard USS

/>   United States,

  Jake Grafton seated himself in the admiral's

  raised chair in Combat and surveyed the

  computer displays. Gil Pascal, the chief of

  staff, was also there along with the ship's air wing commander,

  the Combat Control Center officer and the members of his

  staff.

  Jake leaned over and whispered to Pascal. "See

  if you can find me some aspirin, please."

  "Yes, sir."

  He was looking over the plan and watching the display of

  commercial traffic going in and out of Jose Marti

  International Airport in"...Havana when a chief

  petty officer handed him the encrypted satellite

  phone.

  "Admiral Grafton, sir."

  "This is the president, Admiral. How goes the

  war?"

  "We already have Tomahawks in the air, sir, but the

  Cubans won't know what's coming for an hour or

  so."

  "We're sweating the program here in Washingtonea"...the

  president continued. "Our feet are getting

  frosty. If we chicken out, could the airborne

  Tomahawks be intentionally crashed?"

  Jake Grafton took a deep breath and exhaled

  before he answered. "Yes, sir. That is possible."

  "Let's hold on to that option. I'm

  sitting here with General Totten and the senior

  leadership of the Congress. I want your opinion on

  this question: Should we postpone this show for a day or two?

  Or indefinitely? What are your thoughts?"

  Jake Grafton licked his lips. In his mind's

  eye he could see ballistic missiles rising from

  their silos on pillars of fire, and sailors, just

  like the ones manning the computers here in Combat aboard

  United States,

  sitting in front of radar scopes and computer

  keyboards aboard the Aegis cruisers.

  "Mr. President, I have also been thinking about the

  risks. The only thing I can promise is that we will

  do our best.

  No one can guarantee results. Still, in my

  opinion, considering just the military risks, we should

  go now, without delay."

  "Thank you, Admiralea"...the president said.

  "Jake, this is Tater Totten."

  "Good evening, sir."

  "Just wanted to say good luckea"...the general said, then the

  connection broke.

  Jake Grafton handed the handset to the chief.

  "Here is your aspirin, Admiralea"...Gil

  Pascal said, holding out water and three

  white pills.

  Four EA-6But Prowlers sat on the ramp at

  NAS Key West. Their crews stood lounging

  around the aircraft. They had flown in just an hour

  ago, and now the fuel trucks were pulling away. The

 

‹ Prev