“Then it’s over,” said Holliday, staring out at the terrible sunlit sea.
Following the establishing of the PINNACLE NUCFLASH ORLANDO message on the roof of the Corazon de Leon’s wheelhouse roof by Paul Smith and the further knowledge that a Zhuk-class patrol boat was following it led to a predictable chain of events that moved up and down the chain of command with remarkable efficiency.
When the first aerial NEST team flying over the Orlando area reported an anomalous and extremely large radiation signal originating in the Lake Buena Vista area and since the Zhuk was both of Cuban military origin and well outside both Cuban territorial waters and even beyond its economic fisheries zone, it was deemed both prudent and proactive to send up one of the new Predator C Avenger drones from Creech Air Force Base in Nevada for a look-see.
After a four-hour flight the Avenger, at an elevation of just under sixty thousand feet and using its highly sophisticated Advanced Low-observable Embedded Reconnaissance Targeting, or ALERT, system, spotted what was deemed to be hostile intentions from the Zhuk, and this information went rapidly back up the line to the Pentagon and from there to the Situation Room, where the president and several other notables were gathered around the same monitors they’d watched Osama bin Laden ascend to Paradise on.
Based on the fact that one of the NEST ground teams had discovered two suitcase nuclear devices in a Disney hotel parking lot, the president of the United States had no compunction at all in his next order.
“Do it,” he said firmly, simultaneously wondering if he was guaranteeing his reelection or sending it around the toilet bowl.
And the Avenger did what it was told, releasing its single two-thousand-pound BLU-109 Penetrator laser- guided bomb normally referred to as a “Bunker Buster.” The needle-nosed bomb sliced down through the full sixty thousand feet at ten minutes before sunset, its perfectly calibrated systems guiding in toward the heat signal coming from the Zhuk’s engines.
The Penetrator bomb was traveling much too quickly for the human eye to follow, but the explosion that followed was spectacular. Riding up to the crest of yet another wave, Holliday saw the Zhuk disintegrate in front of his eyes. He also knew exactly what was going to happen next. “Everybody, down!” Holliday bellowed, dragging Eddie down off the wheel.
There was a brain-rattling concussion and a split second later all the glass windows in the wheelhouse blew out. Suddenly the interior wheelhouse was being flooded by sheets of stinging rain and salt spray.
Eddie struggled to his feet and grabbed the wheel as they heaved down into a wave trough. When they rose to the crest of the next wave, the Cuban Zhuk had completely disappeared.
“What was that!” Carrie Pilkington asked, squinting her eyes.
Holliday grinned, relieved. “That, Miss Pilkington, was the U.S. cavalry.”
33
Fidel Castro died right on schedule, shortly after his private celebration of St. Lazarus Day at his Punta Cero estate. By that time the president of the United States, the president of Mexico and the prime minister of Canada had agreed on a joint occupying force of Cuba based on the incontrovertible evidence of a planned nuclear attack by Cuba on the United States, an unprovoked act of war by any definition of the term.
The occupying force would be under U.N. observation until the first untainted and uncorrupted democratic elections in the country since 1933 and the Revolt of the Sergeants, which left Fulgencio Batista as the de facto leader of the country ruling through a series of puppet governments until he took over the presidency himself.
The uncovering of the suitcase bombs, and a day later the bomb in the Everglades, put the president’s numbers through the roof, virtually guaranteeing his election despite the state of the economy. As predicted by Kate Sinclair, plans were immediately drawn up to increase governmental and police powers under the Patriot Act.
The deaths of Max Kingman and Joseph Patchin never made it onto the news cycle, and as the huge corporate conspiracy involved in the plot became known to the White House, that, too, was swept under the rug, at least for the time being, hanging people from meat hooks having become politically incorrect and not good for the incumbent president’s image.
Lieutenant Colonel John Holliday and Eddie Cabrera lay on identical lounge chairs under the shade of an umbrella on Cable Beach, sipping Kalik beer. They had been keeping under the radar at one of the smaller hotels, waiting for things to blow over. Holliday knew it couldn’t last forever; eventually there’d be a closed Senate investigation and he at least would be subpoenaed. Until then he’d rest as best he could.
“I’m sorry about your brother, Eddie,” Holliday murmured.
His friend shrugged. “I am sorry, too, but he is dead and I am alive. This is Cuba, my friend.”
Holliday’s new cell phone beeped at him. He knew who was calling because he’d only given the number to one person. He took out the phone. Lines of text began to appear on the screen.
“Uh-oh,” said Holliday.
“What is this uh-oh?” Eddie asked.
“Where my cousin Peggy is involved, it usually means trouble.” Holliday shook his head, laughing. “Apparently she and Rafi found the secret diaries of Colonel Percival Harrison Fawcett. They’re arriving in Nassau on the ten o’clock flight.”
“Faucet, this is the tap to get water, yes?” Eddie asked.
“The water part’s right, but don’t think of tap water. Think of the Amazon.” He switched off the phone. “I think we’re in for another wild ride, my friend.”
EPILOGUE
The two old men sat on the porch of the older man’s farm in the mountains of the Spanish Sierra Morena and looked out over the hills.
“It is pretty here, don’t you think, brother? Nice and hot, like home.”
“Pretty enough,” said the older of the two. Behind them in the house, he could hear the sound of the evening meal being cooked. “Pretty enough and hot enough for my old bones, but it is not home, is it?”
“No, but you can rest here. There was no peace at home—you know that.” The younger brother laughed. “And here you can watch your own state funeral on the television while your nation mourns you. This is an opportunity given to very few men,
“Poor Benito. He was with me for many years. I pray he did not suffer too much.”
“It was very quick,” the younger brother lied. In fact, the man’s death had been excruciating and had taken hours.
“And that
“He had a heart attack shortly after your death. Between the eyes.”
The younger brother waited for a few minutes, listening to his brother’s steady breathing, and then tiptoed back into the cool shadows of the porch.
And the old man slept and dreamed of the bright stars on a dark, cold night, a toboggan ride and making
