Castro's Bomb (53 page)

Therefore, the six man crew of the Luna rocket and the drivers of the remaining vehicles were the only men he could count on.
 
So be it.
 
He would use Gomez and his donkey-fucking thieves as perimeter security to ensure that no one attacked his group again.
 
At least he hoped Gomez and his men would be at least somewhat reliable.
 
He wouldn’t put it past them to disappear in the night.

The attack on the anti-aircraft battery by what had to have been American Special Forces had been an unpleasant reminder of the precariousness of his situation.
 
They had moved since then and would move again.
 
They would not provide a stationery target for American air strikes that the Special Forces would doubtless be trying to call down on them.

As agreed to in Havana, he had not attempted any direct radio contact.
 
Instead, he'd listened to broadcasts from Havana for code words embedded in newscasts.
 
Along with undisguised reports, they told him that the Americans had landed in force in the north, and that the marines had not yet attacked the south.
 
The American tactics were surprising.
 
Che had expected them to storm the coast near Guantanamo in order to immediately liberate their base, or nearer Santiago to liberate their POWs.
 
The northern landings told him the American agenda was greater than just taking back Guantanamo Bay.
 
They were after Fidel and the revolution.
 
They wanted to bring back the American businesses and gangsters who had plundered Cuba at the direction of the United States for more than half a century.

The American strategy didn't matter.
 
The marines would land, sooner or later.
 
He was confident of that.
 
And when they did, his nuclear rocket would change the history of the world.
 
Nobody would ever ignore Cuba again.

Another sudden shower again reminded them that the rainy season was just around the corner.
 
Cathy and Ross darted for the shelter of a tree and behind some bushes, while Romanski and Morton disappeared somewhere.
 
They didn't care.
 
She and Andrew each got their ponchos on before they got too wet and found themselves laughing.
 
It felt good.
 
Laughing was in short supply lately.

Cathy was the first to realize they were actually alone.
 
At least they were a little bit alone.
 
She wasn't certain where the colonel and the sergeant had gone to, only that she couldn't see them.
 
If she couldn't see them, then they couldn't see her.
 
She sat next to Andrew and shifted so his poncho was over hers and his arm was around her shoulders.
 
It was as intimate as they'd ever been.

"Too bad we can't share ponchos," she said.
 
The neck opening was too small to accommodate two necks.
 
They joked that they'd strangle if they tried.

"Easy problem, easy solution," Ross said.
 
He took out his bayonet and sliced the opening of his poncho wider.
 
She quickly slipped in and, half on his lap, slipped her head up beside his.
 
They looked at each other in pleasant surprise.

"Boo," he said with a tender smile.

"This is ridiculous," she said.

"Absurd," he answered.

They kissed tentatively, then with a little more intensity. They parted and looked at each other incredulously.
 
"I've waited a long time, Cathy.
 
I think it was when I first saw you running on base wearing a pair of shorts.
 
I thought you were the cutest girl I'd ever seen."

"I wish I had known you then, Andrew, although things would have been different, wouldn't they?"

"Yeah, I would've been one of a score of guys trying to get you to go out with them."

She squeezed his shoulder.
 
"Andrew, the line wasn't anywhere near that long.
 
But you're right.
 
Maybe we wouldn't have had the opportunity to get to know each other as well as we have these past few weeks.
 
Or has it been longer?
 
I keep losing track.
 
Maybe I'm losing my mind."

"It doesn't matter."

"We've gotten to know each other at our worst," she said.
 
"I'm filthy, ragged, my hair is butchered short, I have no makeup, and I've probably lost ten or fifteen pounds and I was thin to begin with.
 
Admit it, I'm a mess."

"Yes, but you're a lovely mess.
 
And we've actually known each other at our best, not our worst.
 
We've fought our way through adversity.
 
We've seen people die and been responsible for people dying, along with being hurt by people who want to kill us, and, so far, we've made it through.

She laughed.
 
"I guess I agree, but if this is the best, I don't want to even think of what the worst might be."

"Cathy, I think we both know this time in our lives is going to come to an end, one way or another, and in a very short while. And when it does, it will be with us being together."

She squeezed his hand.
 
"After all this, I'm not sure I want to go back to being a school teacher.
 
What are you going to do?
 
Still law school?"

"Yes, although I've been thinking of going to work for the FBI, or even the CIA when I’m done.
 
You're right.
 
After this I can't see myself writing up wills and suing on behalf of people who've been in car accidents."

Ross leaned back and looked at the sky.
 
He was afraid it was starting to clear and that meant the others would be around.

Cathy snuggled in closer to him.
 
"Then tell me something else.
 
How scared were you during the missile crisis last October?"

He shifted so he could see her better.
 
Her face was tense.
 
"Cathy, we were all scared.
 
Hey, here we were at Gitmo, out in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by Castro's Cubans and just about as helpless as a newborn baby.
 
We would have put up a fight, but, like what happened later, we would have been overwhelmed really quickly.

"Fortunately, we didn't have a whole lot of time to spend thinking about it.
 
All the offices worked around the clock giving out weapons and supplies and who cared about any paperwork.
 
Then, during what down time we did have, we spent it all digging trenches and prepping bunkers.
 
Then we were put on guard duty around the clock.
 
Some of the older guys knew what could happen and they were quite serious, although I do recall a couple of marines spending a lot of time sharpening knives.
 
I thought they were nuts.
 
So, bottom line, I was scared, but not terrified.
 
How about you?"

She took his hand and squeezed.
 
She wanted to kiss him again.
 
"I was terrified and so were a lot of people.
 
We saw the likelihood of nuclear war, and all we ever had and loved would be reduced to ashes.
 
When we arrived in Virginia, a lot of people thought they should move way out west and not be in a major port or a military facility during an atomic attack, which made sense.
 
I knew some people who had shelters and they stayed in them until it was all over."

Cathy laughed at the memory.
 
"A lot of people went to church during that period, and that includes me.
 
Of course, they stopped going right after things calmed down and life got back to normal."

"So how do you feel about right now?"

She smiled, "After all that's happened to me, not too badly at all.
 
I am now reasonably confident that I will survive and will get home.
 
I'm scared, but I can function and sometimes, like right now and even though we are talking about it, I can push it out of my mind.
 
Well, not all the way."

He reached out and gently touched the spot on her cheek where Gomez had cut her with his ring.
 
The scabbing had gone but a scar remained.
 
"They can probably get rid of that, you know."

She shook her head.
 
"Not a chance.
 
It's part of me and it's going to remain.
 
If it fades away naturally, so be it, but no plastic surgery."

"When we do get out of here, we'll probably be sent to Washington so all the people in the Pentagon can talk to us.
 
You will probably be on television and, who knows, maybe they'll make a movie about you.
 
I see Natalie Wood playing you."

"No, not her.
 
She's too pretty."

"You're right.
 
You're a lot prettier."

Andrew was acutely aware of the feel of her small breasts against his chest and of the fact that he was getting aroused.
 
He had no idea how she felt about little things like his erection pressed against her hip.
 
Hell, he thought.
 
She was a school teacher not a school kid.
 
What did she think was happening?

"How much time before they come back?" she asked.
 
The rain was beginning to slacken.

"Not enough."

"Then let's make the most of it," she said and they kissed with a sudden voraciousness that surprised them.
 

He slipped one hand over her breast and she covered it with hers.
 
He removed it and shifted so that his one hand was inside her blouse.
 
She reached behind and unsnapped her bra so he could caress her bare flesh.
 
She groaned in his ear as he touched her nipples.
 
His touch told her that what Gomez had done could never be forgotten, but it could be compartmentalized and she would lead a normal life and, hopefully, with Andrew Ross.

Enough.
 
They had to stop.
 
The rain had practically ended and the others would be back at any moment.
 
Stopping wasn't fair to either of them, and particularly not to Andrew.
 
She could feel him hard against her.
 
It wasn't fair but life wasn't fair. Cathy gently removed his hands from her body and straightened her clothing as he did likewise.
 
Petting like adolescents was inadequate for both of them, but it would have to do for right now.
 

"We can't do anything more," she said, “at least not here and now."

"I know," he said with such sadness that she almost laughed.

"I've wanted this to happen for a long time," she said.

"Me too."

"Andrew, you know a Cuban soldier hurt me, don't you?"

"I figured as much."

"And it doesn't bother you?"

"Why should it, Cathy?
 
I'm concerned about you, not me.
 
How are you dealing with it?"

She tucked her head on his shoulder.
 
"Better than I ever thought I could.
 
And now it's going to be even better with you knowing, understanding, and being on my side, and yes, touching me."

Andrew kissed her on the forehead.
 
"I'll always be by your side."

"Will you be with me a year from now?"

He was puzzled.
 
"That depends.
 
Where will you be?"

Cathy giggled, "Lying naked on a bed."

He laughed and hugged her tightly.
 
"Then you know I'll be there."

About fifty yards away, Romanski and Morton looked at each other.
 
Morton chuckled.
 
"I never thought you were such a romantic, colonel?
 
Y'know we could've found a place to keep dry within a couple of feet of those two lovebirds."

Romanski laughed.
 
"Not much fun for them if we did that, now is there?"
 

He remembered one time when he and Midge had gotten soaked in a rainstorm and made love on the grass while waiting for their clothes to dry.
 
God, he missed her.
 

Romanski stretched and stood up carefully.
 
The wet weather made his leg ache.
 
"Since it's pretty well stopped raining, I suggest we make some unnecessary noise and return to the happy couple.
 
Cullen and the others could return at any minute and we don't want them to see anything shocking.
 
Marines are such innocents when it comes to love and sex, you know."

Major Sam Hartford looked through the barbed wire fence and tried to feign indifference.
 
It was difficult.
 
The three army trucks parked by the guard shack belonged to him, not the Cuban army.
 
The insignias and unit designations were lies.
 
Skronski had told Ruiz and his buddies to steal them and the assignment had been carried out with aplomb.
 
The real Cubans guarding the prisoners were curious, but that was it.
 
If someone in authority wanted to park some trucks by the guard house, so be it.

Now it was time to do something to help both their situation and the United States military.
 
Ruiz had gotten a good look at General Ortega when he'd unexpectedly popped up during the day.
 
The General had actually spoken with Ruiz who said that Ortega seemed like a friendly, decent sort.