Cuba (34 page)

formally requested that a United States ship board

and search the North Korean freighter, which has

violated their territorial waters. The nearest

U.s. ship will be there in three hours.”

“And if the North Koreans raise the anchor and

sail away?”

“We’ll stop the ship anyway, remove any

United States government property mat we

find.”

“Another international incidentff”…the president

grumped. “The North Koreans will shout bloody

murder, then the Cubans will join the chorus.”

The national security adviser jumped right in.

“Sir, the Cubans can’t prove we had CBW

warheads in Gitmo.”

“Can’t prove? If Fidel Castro doesn’t have

a stolen artillery shell on his desk right now

I’ll kiss your ass at high noon on the

Capitol steps while CNN”

“Sir, we think”

“Let me finish!

Don’t interrupt! I’m the guy the congressmen are

going to fry when they hear about this fiasco. Let me

finish.”

Silence.

The president swallowed once, adjusted his tie.

“And nowea”…he said, trying to keep the acid out of his

voice, “we learn the Cubans have a biological

weapons lab in a building in the heart of

Havana, at the university there. Is that

correct?”‘

“Yes,, sir.”

“What I would like to know is this: Have the Cubans got

any way of using biological weapons on the

United States right now? Today? Have they got a

delivery system?”

“Sir, we don’t know.”

“Well, by God, in my nonmilitary opinion we

ought to find out just as fast as we can. Does anybody

in this room agree with that proposition?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Another thing I want to know: Somebody explain

again how the goddamned Chemical Weapons Treaty

will make countries like Cuba decide not

to build biological and chemical weapons.”

The silence that followed that question was broken by the

chairman of the joint chiefs, General Tater

Totten:

“The Chemical Weapons Convention Agreement

won’t dissuade anyone who wants these weapons from

building them. All it will do is force us to rid ourselves

of the weapons that deter others from using these things.

Chemical and biological weapons are only

employed when a user believes his enemy cannot or will

not retaliate in kind. Your staff knew that and

wanted the treaty anyway so that you could brag about it

on the stump and win votes from soccer moms who

don’t know shit from peanut butter.”

The president eyed General Totten sourly, then

surveyed the rest of them. “At least somebody around

here has the guts to tell it like it isea”…he muttered.

The chairman continued: “Doing the right thing isn’t the

same as getting the right result. We could use more

of the latter and less of the former, if you ask me.”

“Don’t push it, Generalea”…the president snarled.

The gray-haired general motored on as if the

president hadn’t said a word. “To get back to your

question, of course the Cubans have a delivery system,

or several. Biological weapons are the

easiest of all weapons to employ. The delivery

system could be as simple as planes rigged to spray

microorganisms into the atmosphere: after all,

Cuba is just ninety miles south of Key West;

jets could be over Florida in minutes. Or a

few teams of Cuban saboteurs could induce the

toxins into the water supply systems of major

citiestens of millions of people could be infected before

anyone figured out there was even a problem.”

Here was the classic dilemma: The U.s. was

prepared to fight a nuclear war to the finish and lick

anyone on the planet in a conventional war.

Hundreds of billions of dollars had been spent

on networks and communications, on precision weapons

and missile Systems, on an army, navy and air

force that were die best equipped, trained, and led armed

forces on earth. So if there were an armed conflict,

no sane enemy would confront the United States

on a conventional or nuclear battlefield:

guerrilla warfare and terror weapons were the

alternatives.

“What die Cubans probably don’t

haveea”…General Totten continued, “is the engineering and

industrial capacity to turn tankfuls of toxins

into true weapons, weapons that are safe

to handle, can be stored indefinitely, and aimed

precisely. That’s why they want to get tiieir

hands on that shipload of biological warheads.”

“So how do we prevent the use of CBW

weapons”…”…the president asked.

“You have to deter the bad guysea”…Tater Totten

explained. “You have to be willing to do it to, them

worse man they can do it to you. And they have to know that you

will.”

“You’re saying that if the Cubans murder ten

million Americans; we have to kill every human in

Cuba?”

“That’s right. Mutually assured destruction.”

“M-A-D.” .

“Insane. But there is no other way. If these people

think you lack the resolve to retaliate in kind, you

just lost the war.”

“If anyone kills Americans we will

retaliateea”…the president said. “That’s been

U.s. policy since George Washington took

the oath of office.”

The general concentrated on straightening a paper

clip, then bending it into a new shape.

Finally, when the president had had his say, when the

national security adviser had summed up

the situation, the chairman spoke again: ‘The agent in

Havana who found the lab had a request. It was in

the last paragraph of bis message this morning.

Mr. Adviser, do you wish to discuss itr

The adviser obviously didn’t wish to discuss it;

he could have raised the point at any time during the

meeting and hadn’t. A flash of irritation crossed

his face, then he said, “I’ve gone over that

request with the staff, and with State, ah, and both staff

and State feel it is completely out of bounds.”

“What request”…”…the president asked curtly.

“Sir, staff and State feel the request is

absolutely out of the question; I struck it from the

agenda.”

“What request”…”…the president repeated with some

heat.

“The agent wants Operation Flashlight to happen

at onethirty A.m. tomorrowea”…Tater Totten said.

“And that is”…”…the president said, frowning.

“He wants the power grid in central Havana

knocked out.”

“Oh. Now I remember. You want to blow some

highvoltage towers.”

“That’s correct, sir. This operation was discussed and

approved three weeks ago.”

“Oh, no. Three weeks ago I gave a

tentative approval, tentative only.

Sabotage of a power network of a foreign nation is a

damn serious matter. Back when I was in school

we called that an act of war.”

“It still isea”…the national security adviser said. He

was something of a suck-up, General Totten thought.

“I think this matter deserves more discussionea”…the

president said.

“Yes,

sir.”

“What happens if the people setting these charges are

arrested?”

The director of the CIA reluctantly stepped

in. “Sir, that is one of the inherent risks of

clandestine operations. The men who set the charges know

the risks. We know the risks. The fact is that the

possible gains here make the risks worth running.

That’s the same cost-benefit analysis we make

before we authorize any clandestine operation.”

“What if one of these people is arrested? Can the

Cubans prove they work for the CIA?”

“No, sir. They will appear to be Cuban

exiles, in Cuba creating mischief on their own

hook.”

“This operation gives me a bad feeling in the pit of

my stomachea”…the president said. “There are too many

things going wrong all at once.”

General Totten could hold his tongue no longer.

“There is no time to be lostea”…he said. “Four

vials of microorganisms taken from a

biological warfare laboratory located just

ninety miles south of Key West in the capital

of a communist country hostile to the United States

are this very minute being examined in laboratories in

the Washington area. Cuba could become another

Iraq, armed to the teeth with chemical and

biological weapons. This nation cannot afford to let that

happen. Cuba is only

ninety

miles away. The risk is simply too great.”

The president glared around the room. Looking for

someone to blame, General Totten thought.

“Mr. President, Flashlight will take hours

to pull off,”

the CIA director said. “I’ve already given the

order for it to proceed.”

“You’ve already given the order”…”…The president

repeated the words incredulously.

“There was no time to be lostea”…the director

shot back. “These things take hours to set in

motion. The execution time is one-thirty A.m.,

less than six hours away.”

The chairman of the joint chiefs leaned forward in his

chair, rested both elbows on the mahogany table.

“Mr. President, we have no choice in this

matter. None at all. If this administration

fails to move aggressively to learn exactly

what the Cuban threat is and take steps to meet

it, you will almost certainly be impeached and removed from

office by Congress for dereliction of duty.”

The president looked as if he were going

to explode. This was a side of him the voters never

saw. A control freak, like most politicians,

he hated just being along for the ride. Watching the

president seethe, Tater Totten knew his days

on active duty were numbered. The CIA

director had better start thinking about retirement,

too.

“Who is our agent in Cuba”…”…the president

demanded.

The director looked startled. Names of agents were

closely held, never discussed in meetings like this.

Yet he couldn’t refuse to answer a direct question

from the president of the United States.

“Sir, if you need that information, I could write it

on a sheet of paper.”…The director grabbed a

notepad and did so. He tore off the sheet,

folded it once, and passed it down the table. The

president put the folded paper in front of him but

didn’t open it.

“I want to know who authorized this man”…the

president tapped on the folded paper with a finger”…ffg

to Cuba to see what cesspools he could uncover.”

“Sir, this mission was authorized by this council two

months ago.”

“Then why in hell didn’t someone mention it when we

were discussing getting our warheads home from

Guanta”- namo Bay? Why wasn’t that cargo

ship escorted from pier

to pier? Why in hell didn’t we get those warheads

out of there two months ago, two years ago?

Why in hell can’t you people get a goddamn grip?”

Silence followed that outburst. It was broken when the

chairman said, “Instead of fretting over the timing,

let’s pat ourselves on the back for being smart enough to have

an agent in Havana. It’s the Cubans’

weapons lab, not ours.”

When Tater Totten walked out of the room, he still

had his letter of resignation from the joint chiefs

in his pocket. He had prepared it when the national

security adviser struck Operation Lightbulb from

the agenda. Maybe he should have laid the letter on the

president and retired to the golf course before these

fools drove this truck off the cliff. He had

no doubt the mess in Cuba was about to blow up in their

faces, and soon.

The American warship nearest the unnamed cay where the

North Korean freighter was anchored was a

destroyer out of Charleston, South Carolina,

manned by naval reservists on their annual

two-week tour of active duty. The destroyer

had been on its way to Nassau for a weekend port

call when the flash message rolled off the printer.

The destroyer’s flank speed was 34 knots, and

she was making every knot of it now as she thundered down the

Exuma Channel with a bone hi her teeth.

From “five thousand feet Jake Grafton could

see the destroyer plainly eveji though it was twenty

miles away. And he could see the wake lengthening

behind the North Korean freighter,

Wonsan.

“Damn scow is getting under wayea”…Rita said

disgustedly. She was flying the V-22. “It’ll be

in international waters long before the destroyer

gets there.”

“Wonder how many warheads they pulled out of the

water?”

“We’re going to find out pretty soonea”…Jake

muttered. “If this guy stops and lets us board

him, he won’t have a

warhead aboard. If he refuses to heave to,

he’s got a bunch.”

“What are you going to do, Admiral, if he

refuses to stop?”

Jake Grafton didn’t have an answer to that

contingency, nor did he want to make the decision.

If that eventuality came to pass he would ask for

guidance from Washington, pass the buck along to people