Operation Due Diligence

by Owen Parr

  “I do, but only if I have time,” said Ramirez.

  “You have time. I have to locate General Naviles and Captain Cruz and set it up,” he said. “Enjoy the crystal clear blue waters for a while, Rick.”

  “Thank you, I will, General,” said Ramirez. “Will you join me?”

  “Go ahead, I’ll stay here,” he said. “I have to meet with El Comandante. By the way, did you find out about selling stock short?”

  “Yes, I did,” Ramirez said, as he went on to explain the procedure. “However, General, Julia cautions on selling short. She believes will be adding fifteen percent more shares to the offering due to the interests for the stock,” Ramirez added.

  “That’s great news. We were just curious about the procedure for selling short,” he replied.

  Garces was joyous. Ramirez was like a son to Fidel, a member of the family, and he was comfortable entrusting him with all these responsibilities. He had made Ramirez a multimillionaire and would never forget that Ramirez’s father had dedicated and lost his life in the early days of the Cuban Revolution while protecting him and Fidel.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHICAGO

  Julia went back to her office after meeting with Alex at Lincoln Park. She asked her partner, Andy Anderson, to meet her for lunch to discuss the matter at hand.

  They ordered in to have a private conversation about the proposal Alex had made. She discussed it at length and weighed the pros and cons of her involvement with the council. She was happy that Andy agreed with her and encouraged her to do it. Andy was Julia’s senior by about twenty years, and in many ways she looked at him as an older brother and almost as a father. She had confided in him much of her personal life and almost always listened to him and followed his advice.

  “You’ve not seen Alex for what . . . four years?” Andy asked. “Do you think it is prudent to start a relationship with him again?”

  “I know,” she said. “It may not be the right thing to do. However, there is no reason why we cannot have a relationship based on friendship. And, to be honest, the appointment to the council interests me.”

  “What if?” Andy asked and added, “I mean, I remember you telling me in tears, right here in this office, when you broke up with him that everyone has a soul mate somewhere and that you had found yours in him.”

  “I did, and my six years with Alex were the happiest times of my life. We shared so much when we were together. Our relationship was like wearing the most comfortable outfit you can put on when you get home—that old pair of jeans and sweatshirt that just fits perfectly, and you feel cuddly in,” she said, softly. “Nothing pretentious. No double meanings. Our fights, when we had them and they were few, lasted for about ten minutes, and then we went on.”

  “So, it begs the question I asked a few years ago again. Why didn’t you divorce Jonathan and marry Alex?” Andy asked.

  “It’s a cliché, but it’s complicated. I was about to break up a marriage, and Alex was not ready to divorce his wife. He did not feel that divorcing her at a time she was suffering from a heart condition was the right thing to do. His love for her had become platonic, but they had been together since high school. I believed him and agreed. Secondly, Alex’s work, he had said, was the cause of their undoing in many ways. He confided in me about his real job and said he would not want me to be part of his life while he was still involved in it,” she said, in a mellow voice.

  “So, the relationship was doomed from the start,” Andy said.

  “Our breakup came as the result of Alex’s wife having a fatal heart attack. I think we both felt that in some way, after she found out about his affair, that we added the grief to her life that led to her demise,” she said.

  “And, you’ve been carrying that guilt since then?” Andy asked.

  “We both have, although, we’ve never talked about it,” she replied.

  “You’ve taken on a burden that may have no real implication to it. She was already suffering from a heart condition. I don’t want to sound cold, but her death may have had nothing to do with you. You can’t live with that forever.”

  “I know and I’ve compartmentalized that. But, it’s something I think about occasionally,” she said. “In any case, getting back to the elephant in the room, I don’t know how much exposure I’ll have to Alex going forward in this endeavor. Deep down, I may want to rekindle the relationship.”

  “Heaven knows you need some happiness in your life,” Andy said. “I just hope it does not cause you more sorrow.”

  “So, what’s been the secret to your success in marriage?” She asked. “After forty years, you are still at it.”

  “Nothing is easy. It’s always a work in progress. I’ll never be canonized, but we’ve grown together. I tell my kids one of the keys is acceptance. Accept others for who they are. Don’t force others to be who you want them to be. Every spouse manages the other. That’s fine. That’s why it is a work in progress. I know what you are going to say, and no you cannot accept Jonathan’s abusive behavior. There is a limit to acceptance. That’s part of the management. Best rule. In a fight with your spouse, never let it last overnight, and once ended, hit ‘control alt delete.’ Never, never hit ‘save’,” Andy said. “Got it, kid?”

  “Yes, father,” she said, jokingly. “You are a wise man.”

  She called Jonathan but could not reach him. She left a message on his cell phone asking him to call her. She wanted to discuss an issue with him tonight at home. She got home at about seven in the evening just a few minutes after Jonathan.

  “I got your message. Anything serious?” Jonathan asked.

  “No, we’ll get to it at dinner,” she replied. “I’ll put the food in the oven for a few minutes while I change. Please, set the table, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “Sí, darling, I’ll take care of that,” Jonathan said.

  Julia did not respond. She hated being called darling, and she knew he knew it.

  “By the way, where did you get the message?” She asked.

  “Oh, at the club, of course,” Jonathan replied.

  ‘Of course,’ she thought to herself.

  After a few minutes while Jonathan was setting the table and putting the food at their places, Julia joined him for dinner.

  “I poured a glass of wine for you, darling,” Jonathan said.

  “Could you give this ‘darling’ bit a rest? You know I don’t like it,” she said.

  “Sorry, Jules, I was trying to be nice,” said Jonathan.

  “I see. Anyway, I had a visit today from a member of the Cuban Council in Exile . . .” She went on to tell him the council’s objectives and that she had been selected to lead it.

  “Have you spoken to Andy?” Jonathan asked.

  “I did, and we had a long discussion. After the IPO for MonteCarlo, we have nothing major happening, other than normal business. He feels that if I want to do it, I should. As far as he is concerned, it should not be a problem,” she said.

  “I see. So, the question is what?” Jonathan asked.

  “It’s obvious. I want to discuss it with you and get your opinion,” she replied.

  “Got it. Who came over to meet with you?” Jonathan asked.

  “A member of the governing body of ten on the board of the council,” she said.

  “Did you know him or her?” Jonathan asked.

  “What does that have to do with the conversation, Jonathan?” she said. “It was a he, and yes, I had met him years ago. So what?” she said angrily.

  “Nothing, but you had not mentioned the meeting before. Who is he?” Jonathan asked.

  “His name is Alex Cardenas, and he is a member of the board,” she replied.

  “Well, it’s up to you and Andy. I don’t see how it will affect our lives,” Jonathan said.

  “It will affect our lives, ‘cause more than likely I will be traveling for the council some,” she said.

  “With this guy Cardenas, I guess?” He asked.


  “Everybody serves on a volunteer basis. I don’t know what the duties of each are yet. You know what? We are done with the conversation, and I am done with dinner,” she said.

  She was upset with all the questions. Jonathan was being his asshole self. He had made her life miserable after she told him of her affair years ago, but she had never revealed the identity of her lover.

  She retreated to the bedroom, picked up her cell phone, and dialed The Ritz.

  “Can you connect me with the room of Mr. Alex Cardenas, please,” she said, when the hotel operator answered the phone.

  “Hello,” said Alex, as the line was connected..

  “Alex, this is Julia,” she said.

  “Hi there. I didn’t expect your call so soon. Everything all right?” He asked, worried that her quick response meant she was saying no to his plea.

  “Everything is fine. Thank you for asking. I have given this some thought, and I’ve spoken to both Andy and Jonathan. For the most part, they are on board with me accepting the appointment. I am still concerned about the time commitment this is going to take on my part, though,” she said.

  “I understand how you feel. Let me reiterate what I said before about so many others being involved with this that it will not be a burden on your time. Besides, I will be with you as much as you need me to help out,” said Alex.

  “You will, huh? Well, how do we get started?” she said.

  “This is great. Thank you for accepting. Here is what I’ll do. I’ll call back tonight and begin the preparations for the installation dinner at the Intercontinental Hotel in Miami. You can fly in that day for the evening dinner, and I would suggest you stay over one day to meet the board and staff,” Alex said.

  “When?” She asked.

  “What’s your schedule look like?” Alex said.

  “Well, I freed up my schedule. My partner will go to Paris instead of me. It was our last road show for the IPO of MonteCarlo. I do, however, have to be in New York to ring the bell on the stock exchange the day we go public. After that, I will be very busy. Perhaps, we can do this in the next three days if you guys are ready,” she said.

  “We’ll be ready. How about in two days?” Alex asked.

  “Hang on, don’t go away. Let me look at my schedule on the phone,” she said, as she maneuvered her fingers on the small keyboard. “Okay, two days is fine. I’ll fly in that morning and leave in two days.”

  “Perfect. I’ll book you a room at the hotel and plan your schedule for the next day.”

  “Alex, Jonathan is more than likely to accompany me.”

  “I understand,” Alex said. “I’ll have someone call you tomorrow with the schedule. Do you want us to make the flight arrangements?”

  “No, no, I’ll take care of that,” she replied.

  “I really appreciate what you are doing. I will see you in Miami when you arrive. Call me for anything at any time,” Alex said.

  “Thank you. This is all new to me. I hope I am up to it.”

  “You are. Call me when you board,” Alex said with excitement in his voice.

  “I will,” she said. She walked out of her bedroom into the dining room where Jonathan was finishing his dinner.

  “Jonathan, I’ve accepted the position with the Cuban Council. I need to fly to Miami the day after tomorrow for the installation dinner and stay the next day for meetings. I am going to take advantage of the trip and meet with Rick Ramirez from MonteCarlo the day I fly in to give him an update on the IPO,” she said.

  “Don’t you have to fly to Paris with Ramirez?”

  “Andy has agreed to handle that. I’ll be telling Ramirez that when I meet with him in Miami,” she replied.

  “Okay. Well, that changes some things,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” She asked.

  “No, I mean that changes some of your plans, I guess,” he replied.

  “Are you going to Miami with me?” She asked.

  “Of course, I want to be there for you, but I think I have surgery scheduled in the morning. I can always fly in on a later flight,” he said.

  “Fine. I’ll book my flight. I’ll be in Miami two days, so you can plan your own schedule,” she said.

  “Hey, I am looking forward to the ‘Sunshine State’ and a little outing to South Beach,” he said.

  With that, she went back to her bedroom, picked up her cell phone, and dialed Ramirez.

  “Rick, good evening. Julia here,” she said, as Ramirez answered his phone on the first ring.

  “How good to hear from you. What’s up?” Ramirez asked.

  “Sorry to call you this late. I am going to be in Miami, and I was wondering if I can give you an update in person two days from today? I fly in at about nine in the morning and could come over to your office before ten for a few minutes,” she said.

  “That would be fine. I’ll make a note. Is everything all right? This is quite sudden,” Ramirez asked.

  “Oh, everything is fine. I just need to be in Miami, and I figured we’d visit in person,” she said.

  “Your visits in person are always a welcome thing, you know that,” Ramirez said. “Perhaps, lunch after the meeting?

  “Let’s play that one by ear. I’m on a tight schedule. So, I will see you in two days. Thank you and have a great evening,” she said.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  HAVANA, CUBA

  Rick and Captain Abimbola Cruz were having dinner in Havana at an old restaurant that had been opened years before the revolution. They had taken over more than half the restaurant with the captain’s entourage and security personnel.

  Casa Potin had once had a reputation for fine French cuisine and French pastry. After the revolution, the restaurant lost quite of a bit of its luster, but it stayed open for the Cuban military elite and tourists. Cuban citizens were not allowed to visit or eat at hotels or restaurants designated for tourists.

  “Well, Captain Cruz, that was Julia Muller on the phone. I think your puzzle is now complete,” said Rick.

  “How so?” The captain asked.

  “She will be in Miami in two days. She didn’t say why, but, of course, we can speculate it is for the council meetings. She and I are meeting the day she arrives at about ten in the morning,” he said.

  “Perfect. Everything is coming into place, my brother. The generals are expecting perfection, and I will make sure all is done to meet their expectations,” said the captain.

  “I have some questions,” Rick said, looking at the captain whom he found to be an imposing figure at six foot four in his military uniform with a shaven head and skin black as night.

  “I am not going to give you specifics. Just stay away from Julia and any council member the day after she arrives,” said the captain.

  “No, no,” Rick said, laughing. “I was not going to ask you specifics about ‘Operation Clean Sweep.’ General Garces gave me the overall picture of the operation. My question is of a personal nature, if you don’t mind?”

  “Ask away, brother,” said the captain.

  “Your first name, Abimbola, what is the origin?”

  “Abimbola?” The captain replied, laughing. “Abimbola means ‘born rich’ in African. My father was serving with the Cuban army during the war in 1975, and he met my mother, a native of Angola. When he returned to Cuba, he brought my mother with him. She was pregnant with yours truly, and my father married her upon their arrival in Cuba. My mother’s father was named Abimbola, also.”

  “Very interesting. On a different topic, what’s up with all these bombings around the city? Is the council here in Cuba active like that? Or is it Nova or another antigovernment group?” Ramirez asked.

  The captain let out a big laugh, so much so that everyone in the restaurant looked over at him. His personnel had no idea what was going on, but seeing him laugh made them join in the laughter.

  “Brother, brother, you make me laugh,” said the captain, as he looked around the restaurant and smiled back at his people. “The fr
icking council, and for that matter, any other antigovernment group has no bombs, brother. They have no guns or ammunition. They only have shit and urine, literally,” said the captain.

  “Mierda y orine?” He asked.

  “Sí, mano, shit and urine. When you take away the guns from the citizenry, what do they have?” The captain asked.

  “Coño, I guess they have shit and urine,” he said, laughing along with the captain.

  “Exactly, the other day some ‘antis’ attacked—if you can call it that—by throwing bottles filled with shit and urine around the room the night before a ministry meeting,” said the captain, continuing to laugh loudly. “It stank, so we moved to another room.”

  “So, who is setting off these bombs?” Rick asked.

  “I am glad you are in charge of the business side, brother. What justification would we have by moving, as we plan to do, against the council, if we can’t blame on them the lack of security and potential harm to our citizens these bombs are causing, mano,” said the captain, winking to Rick.

  Rick raised his glass of Cuban añejo rum and toasted the captain, smiling. “What can you tell me about ‘Operation Clean Sweep?’”

  “You know that General Garces has a penchant for secrecy. I’ll tell you as much as he has allowed me to share with you. The hits are all being done by East German Security, or the old Stasi, who have resided in Cuba for many years since their fall, as well as some locals here and Mexicans in Miami. This way our hands are off the matter. The plan is to have everyone eliminated in one day, as choreographed by the General himself, both in Cuba and in the United States. All of the Stasi members are in place—have been in place for a while, as a matter of fact. They have been logging all of the targets movements for weeks. You just added a new member, this Julia person, whom we’ll secure immediately with your information and take care of her at the same time as the others,” said the captain.

  “I can see how you control the tables here in Cuba, but in the U.S., isn’t that a bit more unpredictable?” Rick asked. “I mean, you have a whole slew of agencies working against you there—the FBI, CIA, DEA.”