Cuba (3 page)

one-megaton nuclear device.

Of course, Jake Grafton reflected,

anthrax was merely one of over one hundred and

sixty known biological warfare agents. There were

others far deadlier but equally cheap to manufacture

and disperse. Still, obtaining a culture was merely a

first step; the journey from culture dishes

to

a reliable weapon that could be safely stored and

accurately employedanything other than a spray

tankwas long, expensive, and fraught with engineering

challenges.

Jake Grafton had had a few classified

briefings about CBW-WHICH stood for chemical and

biological warfare but he knew little more than diswas

available in the public press. These weren’t the

kinds of secrets that rank-and-file naval

officers had a need to know. Since the Kennedy

administration insisted on developing other military

response capabilities besides nuclear warfare,

the United States had researched, developed, and

manufactured large stores of nerve gas, mustard

gas, incapacitants, and defoliants. Research

on biological agents went forward in tandem at

Fort Detrick, Maryland, and ultimately led to the

manufacture of weapons at Pine Bluff

Arsenal in Arkansas. These highly classified

programs were undertaken with little debate and almost no

publicity. Of course the Soviets had their own

classified programs. Only when accidents

occurredlike the accidental slaughter of 6,000

sheep thirty miles from the Dugway

Proving Ground in Utah during the late

1960’s, or the deaths of sixty-six people at

Sverdlovsk in 1979 did the public get a

glimpse into this secret world.

Nerve gases were loaded into missile and rocket

warheads, bombs, land mines, and artillery shells.

Biological agents were loaded into missile

warheads, cluster bombs, and spray tanks and

dispensers mounted on aircraft.

Historically nations used chemical or

biological weapons against an enemy only when the

enemy lacked the means to retaliate in kind. The

threat of massive American retaliation had

deterred Saddam Hussein from the use of chemical

and biological weapons in the 1991 Gulf War,

yet these days deterrence was politically incorrect.

In 1993 the United States signed the

Chemical Weapons Convention, thereby agreeing

to remove chemical and biological weapons from its

stockpiles.

The U.s. military had been in no hurry

to comply with the treaty, of course, because without the threat of

retalia-

STEPHEN COONTS

tion there was no way to prevent these weapons

being used against American troops and civilians.

The waiting was over, apparently. The politicians

in Washington were getting their way: the United

States would not retaliate against an enemy with

chemical or biological weapons even if

similar weapons were used to slaughter Americans.

When Jake Grafton finished his push-ups and

stood, the staff operations officer, Commander Toad

Tarkington, was there with a towel. Toad was slightly

above medium height, deeply tanned, and had a

mouthful of perfect white teeth that were visible when he

smiled or laughed, which he often did. The admiral

wiped his face on the towel, then picked up the

binoculars and once again focused them on the cargo

ships.

“Glad the decision to destroy those things wasn’t one

I had to makeea”…Toad Tarkington said.

“There are a lot of things in this world that I’m glad

I’m not responsible forea”…Jake replied.

“Why now, Admiral? And why does the ordnance

crowd need a battle group to guard them?”

“What I’d like to knowea”…Jake Grafton mused,

“is why those damned things were stored here in the first

place. If we knew that, then maybe we would know

why the brass sent us here to stand guard.”

“Think Castro has chemical or biological

weapons, sir?”

“I suspect he does, or someone with a lot of

stars once thought he might. If so, our weapons were

probably put here to discourage friend Castro from

waving his about. But what is the threat to removing them?”

“Got to be terrorists, sirea”…Toad said.

“Castro would be delighted to see them go. An

attack from the Cuban Army is the last thing on

earth I would expect. But terrorists maybe they

plan to do a raid into here, steal some of the darn things.”

“Maybeea”…Jake said, sighing.

“I guess I don’t understand why we are taking them

home for destructionea”…Toad added. “The

administration got

the political credit for signing the Chemical

Weapons Treaty. If we keep our weapons,

we can still credibly threaten massive retaliation if

someone threatens us.”

“Pretty hard to agree to destroy the things, not do

it, and then fulminate against other countries who

don’t destroy theirs.”

“Hypocrisy never slowed down a

politicianea”…Toad said sourly. “I guess I

just never liked the idea of getting naked when

everyone else at the party is fully dressed.”

“Who in Washington would ever authorize the use of

CBW weapons”…”…Jake muttered. “Can you see a

buttoneddown, blow-dried, politically correct

American politician ever signing such an

order?”

Both men stood with their elbows on the railing looking

at the cargo ships. After a bit the admiral

passed Toad the binoculars.

“Wonder if the National Security Agency is

keeping this area under surveillance with

satellites”…”…Toad mused.

“No one in Washington is going to tell

us,”

the admiral said matter-of-factly. He pointed

to one of the two Aegis cruisers anchored nearby.

“Leave that cruiser anchored here for the next few

days. She can cover the base perimeter with her guns

if push comes to shove. Have the cruiser keep her

gun crews on five-minute alert, ammo on the

trays, no liberty. After three days she can pull

the hook and join us, and another cruiser can come

anchor here.”

- “Yes, sir.”

“There’s a marine battalion landing team

aboard

Kearsarge,

which is supposed to rendezvous with us tomorrow. I want

Kearsarge

to stay with

United States.

We’ll put both ships in a race-track

pattern about fifty miles south of here, outside

Cuban territorial waters, and get on with our

exercises. But we’ll keep a weather eye peeled

on this base.”

“What about the base commander, sir? He may know more

about this than we do.”

“Get on the ship-to-shore net and invite him to have

dinner with me tonight. Send a helo in to pick him

up.”

STEPHEN COONTS

“Sir, your instructions specifically directed that

you maintain a business-as-usual security

posture.”

“I rememberea”…Jake said dryly.

“Of course, “business as usual” is an

ambiguous phraseea”…Toad mused. “If anything

goes wrong you can be blamed for not doing enough or doing

too much, whichever way the wind blows.”

Jake Grafton snorted. “If a bunch of

wild-eyed terrorists lay hands on those warheads,

Tarkington, you and I will be fried, screwed, and

tattooed regardless of what we did or didn’t

do. We’ll have to will our bodies to science.”

“What about the CO ef the cruiser, Admiral?

What do we tell him?”

“Draft a top-secret message directing him

to keep his people ready to shoot.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Nuestra Senora de Colon

is sailing this evening for Norfolk. Have a destroyer

accompany her until she is well out of Cuban

waters.”

“Yo.”…Toad was making notes on a small memo

pad he kept in his hip pocket.

“And have the weather people give me a cloud-cover

prediction for the next five days, or as far out as

they can. I want to try to figure out what, if

anything, the satellites might be seeing.”

“You mean, are they keeping an eye on the Cuban

military?”

“Or terrorists. Whoever.”

“I’ll take care of it, sir.”

“I’m going to run a couple laps around the

deckea”…Jake Grafton added.

“May I suggest putting a company of marines

ashore to do a security survey of the base

perimeter? Strictly routine.”

“That sounds feasibleea”…Jake Grafton said. “Tonight

let’s ask the base commander what he thinks.”

backslash

CUBA 17

“Terrorists or the Cuban Armywanna bet ten

bucks? Take your pick.”

“I only bet on sure things, sir, like

prizefights and Super Bowls, occasionally a

cockroach race.”

“You’re wise beyond your years, Toadea”…the admiral

tossed over his shoulder as he headed for the hatch.

“That’s what I tell Ritaea”…Toad shot back.

Rita Moravia was his wife.

Jake Grafton didn’t hear the rest of

Toad’s comment. “And wisdom is a heavy burden,

let me tell you. Real heavy. Sorta like

biological warheads.”…He put the binoculars

to his eyes and carefully studied the naval base.

The night was hot and sultry, with lightning playing

on the horizon. From his seat on”…the top row of the

stadium bleachers Hector Juan de

Dios Sedano kept an eye on the lightning, but

the storms seemed to be moving north.

Everyone else in the stadium was watching the game.

Hector’s younger brother, Juan Manuel

“Ocho”…Sedano, was the local team’s star pitcher.

The eighth child of his parents, the Cuban fans had

long ago dubbed him El Ocho. The family

reduced the name to “Ocho.”

Tonight his fastball seemed on fire and his curve

exceptional. The crowd cheered with every pitch. Twice

the umpire called for the ball to examine it. Each

time he handed it back to the catcher, who tossed it

back to the mound as the fans hooted delightedly.

At the middle of the seventh inning Ocho had faced just

twenty-two batters. Only one man had gotten

to first base, and that on a bloop single just beyond the

fingertips of the second baseman. The local team

had scored four runs.

Hector Sedano leaned against the board fence behind him

and applauded his brother as he walked from the mound.

Ocho looked happy, relaxedthe confident, honest

gaze of a star athlete who knows what he can do.

As Hector clapped, he spotted a woman coming

through the crowd toward him. She smiled as she met his

eyes, then took a seat beside him.

Here on the back bench Hector was about ten feet

fro’m the nearest fans. The board fence behind him was

the wall of the stadium, fifteen feet aboveeathe

ground.

“Did your friends come with you”…”…he asked, scanning the

crowd.

“Oh, yes, the usual twoea”…she said, but didn’t

bother to point to them.

Sedano found one of the men settling into a seat five

rows down and over ab* thirty feet. A few

seconds later he saw the other standing near the

entrance where the woman had entered the stadium. These

two were her bodyguards.

Her name was Mercedes. She was the widow of one of

Hector’s brothers and the current mistress of

Fidel Castro.

“How is

MimaThat’

Tomorrow was Hector’s mother’s birthday, and the clan was

gathering.

“Fine. Looking forward to seeing everyone.”

“I used the birthday as an excuse. They don’t

want me to leave the residence these days.”

“How bad is he?”

“Estd tojodio.

He’s done in. One doctor said two weeks,

one three. The cancer is spreading rapidly.”

“What do you think?”

“I think he will live a while longer, but every night

is more difficult. I sit with him. When he is

sleeping he stops breathing for as much as half a

minute before he resumes. I watch the clock,

counting the seconds, wondering if he will breathe again.”

The.home team’s center fielder stepped up to the

plate. Ocho was the second batter. Standing in the

warm-up circle with a bat in his hands, he scanned

the faces in the crowd. Finally he made eye

contact with Hector, nodded his head just enough to be seen,

then concentrated on his warm-up swings.

“Who knows about this”…”…Hector asked Merc”…des.

“Only a few people. Alejo is holding the lid

on. The doctors are with him around the

clock.”…Alejo Vargas was the minister of the

ulterior. His ministry’s Department of

STEPHEN COONTS

State Securitythe secret policeinvestigated

and suppressed opposition and dissent.

“We have waited a long timeea”…Hector mused.

“Ese cabron,

we should have killed Vargas

years”…agoea”…Mercedes said, and smiled at a woman

who turned around to look at her. *

“We cannot win with his blood on our hands.”

“Alejo suspects you, I think.”

“I am just a Jesuit priest, a teacher.”

Mercedes snorted.

“He suspects everyoneea”…Hector added.

“Don’t be a fool.”

El Ocho stepped into the batter’s box to the roar of the