some ways they can hurt us slow us down, at least. What if they get in
our way? We have to avoid them, don’t we? Especially given this
morning’s events. Add the fact that they can carry Stingers on board,
and we’ve got a real problem.”
“How much trouble is one Stinger? They’ve got a range of less than two
miles.” The TAO frowned.
“Maybe, maybe not. Remember the speculation on the TWA downing, that
it was done by a longer-range Stinger, an improved version of the one
we’re familiar with. Those little puppies are manufactured all over
the world now, and who’s to say there haven’t been some radical
improvements in them? Besides, what can you tell me about our hangar
doors right now?”
The question caught the TAO off guard. “The hangar doors?” He
shrugged. “Not much, I guess. They’re open right now, I imagine. I
have them open in this heat.”
“Exactly my point. What’s one Stinger shot into the hangar bay going
to do to us? How many aircraft will be set on fire and I assume it’s
still crowded down there before we get it put out? How much fuel will
go up in flames? And how many missiles are down there? Any? I know
that they’re not supposed to be, but” “I get your point.” The
operations officer looked thoughtful. “We may need to shut the doors
anytime small boats come around.”
“Then we end up with heat exhaustion. The temperature in that space is
gonna climb like a bat out of hell.” Batman looked grim. “Not many
good choices, are there?”
There were, he thought as he watched the operations officer stride out
of the room, hardly any good choices left in the world at all. Not
down here, not for the USS Jefferson, And not for one Admiral Edward
Everett Wayne, in command of Carrier Group Fourteen.
1400 Local (+5 GMT) Fuentes Naval Base Leyta looked skeptical. “You’re
sure about this?”
Santana nodded. “Completely. I’ve got four people who saw that
aircraft returning to the carrier, and there were no empty spots on its
wings. It hadn’t fired a weapon.”
“How could they tell? In foul weather, at some distance?”
Leyta looked doubtful.
“They could tell.” The quiet confidence in the man’s voice lent weight
to his statement. “The background you don’t want to know, but they
could tell.”
Leyta tossed the folder he’d been studying across the desk, wincing as
it collided with a pencil holder and spilled its contents all over the
floor. “It’s almost like the way we fight a war, isn’t it? Tossing
things around, wondering what they’ll knock over? Never really any
planning? So now what?”
Santana bent over and started to gather pencils up from the floor,
leaving the report facedown where it lay. “It depends. We can
continue to blame it on the Americans or we can use it against the
current regime. Either option poses problems.” He looked up at Leyta
and lifted one quizzical eyebrow.
“Starting with dividing our own movement,” Leyta said, finishing the
other man’s thought. “Regardless of how much we disagree about
methodology, Aguillar and I want the same thing a free Cuba. He just
wants it to be free under the United States’ protection and I want it
to be a part of the world. No more insularity; no more being a farm
plantation for the United States, either. A free Cuba, our Cuba. What
we always dreamed it could be.” He paused for a moment, staring down
at the report on the floor without seeing it.
“But you don’t care about that, do you? Not really.”
Santana shrugged. “You might be surprised what I care about. If I had
to pick sides, I’d be on yours, not Aguillar’s.
Although in this scenario ” Again, the shrug that resigned all their
fates to an indifferent god. “I’m not really sure what’s the right
course. Maybe we wait. The Libyans are only a means to an
end securing our freedom with superior firepower. Outside of that, it
makes very little difference to me who runs the government. As long as
it’s not Castro.”
“We wait,” Leyta echoed. It was something they were good at they’d