When the lights went on in the room there was almost no talking. It was obvious that the people there were well aware of the situation. Malloy and Aarons headed back to Conference Room 904 where Malloy made a telephone call and ten minutes later a US Marine came to tell them that their car was waiting.
When they got back to the hotel there was a call for Malloy from the White House. They wanted them both to pack and go straight back to the White House where accommodation was available for them. What had become their car picked them up an hour later.
CHAPTER 49
Bobby Kennedy had taken them personally to their accommodation which he said was officially designated the Green Room where screens had been erected around the portion they were to use. There were two single beds, several ornate chairs, a table and four upright chairs and several cabinets with appliances for making coffee and a line of cereal packets and silver containers of the usual condiments. On a desk in a corner was a large metal-cased Hallicrafter radio. Alongside the radio was a list of the frequencies of Radio Moscow for both internal and external broadcasts.
Kennedy stood hands on hips. “The best we could do in a hurry.” He turned to Aarons. “Andy, we want you to listen to Moscow radio round the clock. We’ve got people monitoring all their major frequencies but we want to have your impression of what they’re up to. If they’re aggressive do they really mean it? Are they scared or are they spoiling for a fight? Just your feelings about how they’re responding to events. They’ve patched you in to a good aerial system that covers long, medium and short wave.” He smiled. “There’s top brass bedding down all over the place so you’re in good company. Anything you need just dial nine. Food, drink, laundry, whatever. If you want to phone home dial zero and give the operator the number you want. OK?”
Aarons smiled. “I’d like a Russian dictionary if you can find me one.”
Bobby Kennedy laughed, “My God—what have we done to you, Andy?”
Aarons sat reading and listening to the radio the next day. There was no mention of the President’s speech nor any trouble in Cuba until 6 p.m. EST when Radio Moscow announced that the American Ambassador had been summoned to the Kremlin and handed a note that accused the United States of piracy, and denying that the missiles were for military use. It was another hour before the Russians were told about the crisis and the American’s blockade of Cuba.
Bobby Kennedy came to see them in the early evening.
“I went to see Ambassador Dobrynin personally today. He swore that there were no missiles in Cuba. You know—if I hadn’t seen the U-2 photographs I’d have been inclined to believe him. I think those bastards in Moscow haven’t told him what’s going on.”
“There was very little on the radio. They sounded confused as if they haven’t had time to decide what attitude to take.”
“There are twenty-five Russian merchant ships on their way to Cuba. They haven’t changed course but our people at Fort Meade have monitored almost continuous coded messages to them from Russia. The President has modified the line of the quarantine interception from eight hundred miles to five hundred miles to give the Russians more time to make up their minds. All the merchant ships are being shadowed by our submarines.”
“What’s happening at the missile sites?”
“The latest U-2 photographs show them still working on the sites. We’ve sent a Fleet Task Force at top speed to close off all five navigable channels that ships from mid-Atlantic have to use to approach Cuba. They should be in place tomorrow morning.”
Malloy asked, “How’s the President?”
Kennedy shrugged. “He’s pretty tense, and it’s beginning to show, talks kind of staccato and his back’s playing him up too. He’s trying to look cool and calm but he ain’t, that’s for sure.”
“If it’s any consolation there’ll be worse panic in the Kremlin.”
“You reckon?”
“I’m sure. Khrushchev will be looking around for someone to blame and nobody’s going to tell him that he’s the one who’s carrying the can right now.”
“But if they meant it?”
“OK. They meant to put the missiles there but they’re now in a different game. This wasn’t what they expected unless they’ve gone crazy.”
“I’ve heard people from the Pentagon hazarding guesses about where the first missiles will land on American cities.”
Aarons shrugged. “Unless the President lets them launch an all-out attack on Cuba tomorrow, yes?”
Robert Kennedy half-smiled. “Yeah.”
By 10 a.m. on Wednesday, October 24th the naval Task Force was in place in a wide arc 500 miles from the eastern tip of Cuba. Thirteen destroyers, six cruisers made up the forward picket line as twenty-five Soviet merchant vessels headed towards them, being shadowed by US Navy reconnaissance planes. They saw two Soviet ships ahead of the others and watched a Soviet submarine take up
