The Bamboo beads parted, and the evening sun flooded in behind him, blinding those that looked on. When the beads settled back into place he was already striding toward the bar. Resting upon the counter, he suddenly realized he had gathered quite a lot of attention. Crisp linen suit, recently pressed, with not a crease out of place, he removed his sunglasses and laid them on the counter.  The place was full of old sailors, playing at cards and sipping on the house rum. He pulled a cigarillo from his pocket and slid the ashtray a little closer. As it touched to his lips a hand outstretched with a lighter and he leaned forward lighting the tip. After a moment, he lifted it from his lips and turned to find a woman, cross- legged on a stool, pulling on a cigarette.

“A bit over dressed for the beach Mr,  maybe you should try a bar downtown, won’t get so much sand in your pretty shoes”

He tipped some of his ash and took a puff of his cigarillo, as he looked back at her.

“I quite like the beach actually, and I have had sand in worse places”

“Well, look around, no one here wears shoes”

“Yes well, I am a slave to appearances, I must apologize”

She turned back to the counter, waving down to the bartender, and lifting her glass. Her skin was soft bronze, and it glistened like she had just risen from the water. Deep brown hair sat over her shoulders and covered the fronts of her bikini. Her leg crept from the opening of the scarf she had tied around her waist. She began to run her fingers around the bottom of her glass and touch the liquid to her lips. The bartender came down to end of the counter and wiped the surface before throwing up two rough cuts of fabric in front of them.

“Lo que quieras?”

She looked back at the man and then to bartender, before he asked again.

“Drink, you drink, Cerveza, Rum, que quieras”

“My friend here will have a drink, yes, my friend, Mr?”

They turned their attention to him, as he looked at the back bar

“Please, call me Charles”

“Charles… Charles… will have… a gin?”

“I think not miss, gin is the drink of a gentleman, and I have never been so accused”

“Then something local, Rum”

“Ah, the drink of the righteous revolutionaries, I am afraid I prefer to follow the rules”

“You mean to say you’re a bore then?”

“I prefer life’s little simplicities”

“Then what can he get you”

“A scotch on the rocks never goes a miss. However, we’re in Havana and it seems a sin not to try a Daiquiri, so let’s say we break a few rules.”

He turned his attention back to the bartender who had been cutting fruit and stacking mismatched glasses.

“Dos Daiquiris Por favor”

She slid off the chair and brushed past him towards the door.

“Who said I wanted a drink”

Beside the door was an old beaten jukebox and she was pressing at the buttons. When she had decided on a song, she reached up above, running her hand along the ledge. Taking down a coin on the end of a string, she dropped it into the machine until it began to whir. Yanking it from the machine as the first few notes of a flamenco guitar swept across the bar. She turned, showing him the coin, dangling it, swinging it side to side, before putting it back upon the ledge. As she made it back to the bar, the bartender was putting the Daiquiris down on the napkins. She took the lime wedge from the side of the glass, squeezing it into the drink, before dropping it inside.

“I like mine a little more sharp, I like the bite”

“I prefer mine more blunt, I have a bad history with sharp things”

“No reason not to try new things, history doesn’t always repeat itself, not without a little encouragement”

“I can guarantee you, I do not encourage those encounters at all”

He sipped away at his Daiquiri and undid the single button that kept his jacket closed.

“You have had me at a severe disadvantage Miss?”

“Are you so used to having the upper hand?”

“I have been known to be caught off guard”

“Maybe you would have been more comfortable downtown in a hotel bar”

“And deprive myself of your company, I could never dream of it”

“One man’s dream is another woman’s nightmare…. my name is Lucía”

“Lucía, a beautiful name, it is my pleasure to share a drink with you”

“Are you the adventurous type Charles?”

“From time to time, I end up off the beaten track.

“Then come, dance with me”

She removed the scarf from around her waist, using it to tie up her hair. Then she leaned forward stealing his drink and finishing it in one motion. Taking his hand, she led him past the jukebox and into the center of the room, she turned into him and his grip tightened on her wrist. He ran his other hand around her waist, to the small of her back. She broke his grip, freeing her hand running along the back of his neck as their hips ran in opposite directions. They danced like two waves crashing against each other, each time one was leading the other would break the tempo and assume control. The bar around them took no notice to this battle of wills. Card games continued and rum flowed as they swung each other around the floor. Lucía twisted into him and whispered in his ear.

“Since when are the British working for the Americans”

Charles took her hip and spun her out before taking her back in close again. He had his hand wrapped around her stomach and was holding her from behind.

“Around the same time the French came to Cuba”

She was pulling against him now to escape, so he swung her out one last time, before taking a small step back and curtsying to her. Her eyes were focused on him now, and she felt as if the whole room had suddenly started looking at them. She clapped exaggeratively and ran toward the jukebox. The song changed to a slow soft anthem and voices around the bar began to gently raise in unison. In the middle of all this she slipped out through the beads and into the night.

Charles walked towards the bar, fixing his jacket closed again, he collected his glasses and dropped some cash on the counter. He slowly walked out through the beads and onto the deck in front of the bar. She was nowhere in sight, so he walked down along the wooden pathway towards the sea. The path was lined with palm trees and it bent and curved. With each step he could hear the crashing waves clearer and clearer. In between the sounds, behind him, footsteps on the wooden beams, the occasional creak, the sound of the sand crunching beneath feet. As both sounds grew closer, he finally came to the clearing of the trees. The moonlight was dancing on the water and the waves moved  with intention towards him. Finally, Lucía stepped from behind a palm tree with a small revolver in her hand, pointed directly at him.

“Charles Masters, art curator. Since when are MI5 collecting art?

“Well, the British are well known for collecting art, in fact we’ve always preferred to borrow it rather than create it”

“What kind of art might you be looking for in Havana, perhaps a mosaic, a sculpture or was it a Russian tapestry?”

“I usually try to meet the artists before I really decide”

“I am afraid you won’t be meeting anyone else on this visit Mr Masters”

“So, I shall have to make do with just you then. Tell me what is a member of the DGSE doing so far away from Paris?

“You must be mistaken, I am as local as they come, from Cayo Coco”

“Yes, I must be, of course, from an obscure smaller part of Cuba, an out-of-town girl, surely no one would think any different. Unless, maybe, they wondered why your accent was Catalonian”

“My grandmother was Catalonian, many Catalonians have settled in Cuba, we have a long history here”

“What a brilliant cover story, truly stellar, well thought out, well researched, I see why they chose you. So often the best lie is closest to the truth.”

“Only one of us here is a liar Charles”

“The Pyrenees, yes, or close enough, deep south, close to the border. You were the smart choice”

“Enough, start moving, towards that pier”

She gestured towards a wooden-built pier that stretched out into the water, and they began to walk towards it. The beach was in full darkness apart from the torches that were placed every few hundred metres. The pier had some flickering candles in boxes all along it and was well lit. After walking for a bit Charles suddenly stopped and bent down.

“Keep it moving, I am not joking around here”

“Well, as you noted earlier, the beach is no place for shoes, kindly wait a moment”

He slowly unlaced his shoes and removed his socks, tucking them inside. Then he softly stood up, fixing his jacket and wiping off the sand from his hands and sleeves. They walked a little longer before Charles swung around to face her.

“Are we going swimming, or is there a boat, cause I will need to remove a few more items if we are going into the water you see”

“You will be going right here in the sand if you don’t turn back around and keep walking”

“I thought we had a lovely evening together, don’t you want to get to know each other a little more”

“I want you to turn around and get moving before I have to use this”

“So be it, but I offered”

He slowly turned before swinging back toward her with his shoes, knocking the revolver from her hand. Then he put his foot behind hers and tripped her to the sand, pressing on top of her and pinning her hands above her head. She wrestled with him, but he pressed down and eventually she gave up and let out a sigh.

“Now, let’s talk about the truth, why don’t you tell me what’s at the end of that pier.”

“Why don’t you get off of me first.”

“That’s not exactly an answer now, is it.”

“There’s a boat, that you should take and get out of here, before you do any more damage.”

“But my dear, I am just here to collect some local art, what harm could I cause”

“You have the subtleties of a Bull in a China Shop, walking into that bar in that suit, insulting the locals”

“I thought I was quite pleasant to them”

“You nearly blew my cover, I have been working that bar since 61’ and you arrive in and immediately draw attention to me, and nearly out me!”

“You draw attention to yourself, you lit my flame, if you remember.”

“It takes two to tango.”

“That was your idea too.”

“Let me up.”

He loosened his grip and hesitantly leaned back, lifting his leg up and allowing her to roll from underneath him. He felt for the revolver and found it, quickly tucking it away while she got to her feet. Then he pretended to fish around for his shoes.

“You have lost my revolver, it’s not as easy to get one of those around here.”

“What about my loafers, they’re Italian, can’t get them here either.”

Charles found his shoes by the brush and took them up, tying the laces together and putting them around his neck. Lucía was retying the scarf around her waist before cupping some water in her hands and using it to rub the sand from her skin. He approached the water himself and let it run over his feet as he sunk into the sand.

“There is no reason we can’t work together”

“Together? Together? I’m not even sure we want the same thing”

“Cards on the Table?”

“You first, then I’ll see”

“Another disadvantage, you favor the strong position. Well, it is funny, it just so happens, I am here to locate a boat. Not quite the boat you had in mind but perhaps you know it. A ship called the Dubno, it was an escort ship allowed to cross the blockade. At first it was deemed safe. However, intelligence suggests that it will be dismantled and used to further the nuclear infrastructure being built within the jungles. The crew manifest was secured by operatives within the Kremlin and contained some of the current best Russian minds on nuclear warfare.

“So, what do you want with the Dubno, the British have no involvement here”

“Well, I hate to be ever so obvious but nor do the French, and yet here we are rolling in the sand”

“Well, you might remember we had some vested interests in these parts of the world, at one time or another. It was decided we would monitor the escalation closely after the last government was overthrown. So, I arrived over a year ago and began to embed myself with the local revolutionaries”

“Did you find anything of interest in these beds, or just the warmth?”

“Ever so charming Mr Masters, and why should I share any of my information with you?

“If you had not already realized, we are mere days from a moment that may change the world forever, and I don’t know about you, but I quite like it how it is now, all in one piece.”

“Then perhaps we will have to do something about it all, follow me then, I have someone you should meet”

“I hope it is not the captain of that ship you were talking about”

They set off toward the pier, cautiously holding a distance between each other. By now the moon shone like a spotlight across the water, lighting the way forward. As they grew closer Charles could make out the wooden pier a bit more. It stretched out from the sand as if it was an extension of the land itself. The candlelight revealed all the many holes in the wood that made up this rotting landmark. Near its end he finally spotted, on the other side, a small boat.

Charles allowed Lucía to lead, while he followed, a half step behind. He noted the many breaks in the bush, the huts further along the beach, city lights in the distance. All of this was important, for whatever or whoever was at the end of this pier, he must be ready to disappear if the situation called for it. As they reached the start of the pier, they proceeded single file along it, Charles trying to look over Lucías shoulder at the boat ahead. A figure emerged in the darkness, smoke billowing from a cigar they lifted to and from their mouth. He could not make who it was, still uneasy, he felt for the revolver, confirming its position and left his jacket loose, just in case.

The low hum of someone singing a song broke the silence as they approached

‘Get me a girl who can dance the ‘dango – Round as a melon, sweet as mango’

They were crouched down messing at the ropes and gently swaying as they worked. Suddenly the ropes swung up high and onto the deck on this little tugboat. Rising into the light of the moon a towering commanding  figure filled the space at the end of the pier.

“Who goes there in the dark, could it be my sweet mango woman”

“Were you expecting anyone else this evening my dear, of course it is me”

“You’re the only woman for me Lucía, I wait for no one but you.”

Charles was following in Lucías shadow until he stepped slightly to the left to make out this man in the darkness.

“You told me there may be a prisoner this evening, this man follows like a passenger”

He stepped from behind her now, revealing himself.

“Well, the lady insisted I come against my will, but I was far too intrigued to resist”

“She has always been impossible to resist, Mr Masters”

“Oh, another who knows my name, am I on a poster somewhere, I am beginning to feel famous”

“Infamous, you mean, another British gentleman who makes a scene and claims to be the extra, not the leading man”

“You must have me wrong sir, Shakespeare in the park when I was in Kings but since then I am more the weary travelled salesman than anything else.

“I would believe Europe had fallen to the fascists sooner than any word that slips from your tongue.”

Lucía threw her head back smirking at Charles and  stepped forward onto the boat.

“Come Miguel, let’s take this to the sea and let the waves carry our conversations away”

Miguel laughed and took the last of the ropes in his hand, throwing them aboard. He leaned on the edge of the boat and motioned to Charles to enter first. The boards creaked as he stepped onto the deck, Miguel shoving him forward and turning to pull the plank in. It was a simple little tugboat, poorly painted and poorly maintained, it was long past its maiden voyage. In the corner a pile of nets, dried, chords parting and loose, seemed as if they had been long from the water. Lucía motioned to join her in the main cabin, Charles followed cautiously. They passed the door to the helm where Miguel was entering from the opposite side, it was more like a sitting room than anything else. A large armchair sat in front of the steering wheel, complete with a side table, a non-descript bottle, half full and condensating, beside an empty glass. All along the window to the front there was little ornaments and trinkets, of all colors, shapes and sizes. Charles had lingered too long, and Miguel spotted him, so he lurched forward and slammed the side door, a wooden frame and thick red curtains greeting him.

Charles continued down the side of the boat to reach the cabin where he found Lucía lighting a wood stove. It was a small space with a table in the center and a bed to the right as he entered. He strode across the room and pulled a wicker chair from beneath the tabletop and sat facing the door.

Lucía pulled two glasses from the shelf, took a bottle from the sink and began to pour two large measures for herself and Charles.

“This will have to do for you, I think it’s Gin, Miguel makes it himself, prefers it to anything from the sugarcanes, too sweet for him.”

“We like what we like, a Cuban Gin is a first for me, but as you know, I’m the adventurous type.”

Charles swirled the liquid in the glass then took a sip, letting it fill his cheeks before swallowing it.

“Not much for flavour either, your Miguel. Tastes as though it only saw the junipers in the window”

“Maybe he’s after something else when he drinks, we don’t all have the privilege of choice Charles.”

“No, but I would rather no choice than to choose a bland flavorless life.”

“What is it you hope to achieve here in Havana, are you to speak for the people or the dictators”

“Well – I don’t speak for the people, and I only see one dictatorship, cleverly disguising itself as a fair and equal place. Then again, those I intend to represent say they are ‘for the people’ and yet so recklessly play with the weapons of war. So, I am for neither of those, I am simply here for humanity, and not to be dramatic but perhaps the very fate of the world”

“Not dramatic at all” Lucía says as she swallows her drink and pours another

“Not since the end of the last war, have we come so close to a world ending event. Two superpowers hurl insults and put on displays of bravado and showmanship. In reality, we are one ego maniac from a nuclear fallout that could bring the human race back to the beginnings of evolution.”

“So, your plan is to reason to their humanity, because I fear we are past talking our way out of this one”

“There is no harm in a little mediation, sometimes it’s just about finding the right words.”

“You must be mad, there are no words, they are replaced with hate, with competition, with an us and them mentality that was forged in fire and tempered by the cold”

“So, what is it that keeps you here, the weather sure is fine, and the beer is cold, but I don’t wish to think you remain without a plan”

“Well, before your abrupt entrance we had began to plan a little warfare of our own. We know they are building something down by San Cristobal. Villages surrounding that area have slowly started to empty, the people are either moving to Havana or missing. So, me and Miguel started there. Between his fishing trips he has taken me down the coast and we have gone ashore. From Bahia Honda we travelled across the mountains and found their base. It was there that I set my eyes upon your prize, the Dubno, sitting in a lake on the edge of town, they must have taken it up the rivers and somehow got it over land.”

“I may have underestimated your tenacity, it seems you are quite the driven individual, but what can we three do against a base full of militia and missiles.”

“On the hills above San Cristobal there is a power station, scarcely guarded. If we could somehow sabotage it, there would be no way to launch any missiles from the base, it would buy us just the time we need to end this madness.”

“You would use bombs to stop missiles, what happened to stern words. If you could get me into this town, I could perhaps speak sense to the senseless.”

“You would sooner find your grave than your answers if you dared to go near that base, it would be a one-way ticket”

“I always book one way, I don’t like to restrict my travel plans with a return date”

Miguel entered the cabin, sitting down on the chair opposite Charles, he pulled a cigar from his pocket and a snips, taking the tip off the top, then striking a large match to light it. There was a dirty glass on the table, he lifted it up and ran his finger inside, turning it upside down and shaking it, then leaning backwards he grabbed the bottle from the sink and poured himself a large drink. Raising his glass in the air he motioned towards them.

“To good company and bad times”

He swallowed the drink whole and immediately refilled his glass before adjusting in his chair and leaning forward.

“So Mr Masters who is it you are really working for”

“Well as I was telling Lucía, it seems I am just a man of the people “

“Are those people painted with the famous stars and stripes, land of the oppressed and home of the cowards”

“I am unsure of your meaning, but I suppose you could say English wasn’t their first language but it certainly stuck.”

“Never a straight answer from you is there Charles, what’s the plan, a few nice words and a cup of tea, the soviets prefer their drinks cold.”

“ I had not thought to bring my tea set, it might have helped. No Miguel, I simply plan on having a rational conversation with our Eastern brothers and hoping that we can come to some agreement. If you will kindly drop me off in San Cristobal along your way, it would be of great help”

“We are going nowhere near San Cristobal, we are going as far as the hills on a recon only trip”

Lucía perked up from warming her hands by the stove and interrupted.

“Miguel, we cannot wait any longer, it must be tomorrow”

“Impossible Lucía, I have told you it is unsafe, we haven’t got the materials or the plans”

“We can get some explosives from the rebels, we know they are in the bay, and they like the Russians far less than we do, they might even join us”

“The REBELS! They are unorganized and immoral, they would see Cuba returned to the days of Columbus”

“If we do not strike now, it may be too late, the embargo has only gotten more tense in the last days, we have to pour some water on the fire.”

“I won’t do it Lucía, it is a fool’s mission, send the Englishman to his death, but I will not join him.”

Miguel stood up, swallowed his drink and left the cabin for the helm, slamming the door behind him. Charles raised an eyebrow and shuffled in his chair, crossing his legs and looking towards Lucía. She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, holding her hands to her face then running them through her hair. Suddenly she caught his gaze and sat up straight.

“Have you got something to add, because I have had it with men of inaction this evening.”

“I mean no undue stress my dear, I do not. My mission is not yours, but I do have some observations. Firstly, your man is right, you don’t know the movements around this power station, and you don’t well know that the rebels haven’t been bought out already. There are not many warzones I have seen where the local rebels hold their morals higher than the money they stand to gain. Secondly, are you familiar with a Matryoshka?”

“It is worth a shot, at the very least, we cannot sit by and do nothing and…. a what?”

“A Matryoshka. You see I spent winter in St Petersburg one year, a fantastic city, as beautiful and ornate as it is cold. It happened that I was there during a great market fair and they had stalls and stalls of local artisans, bakers and performers. There was Honey Cakes, Cinnamon Buns, and these little rolled pastries called Rogaliki. I stopped to see a performance of the Kamrinskaya, a bold and energetic display, it was truly fascinating to watch in the center of the square…”

“Charles, please there are…”

“Afterwards! I continued to the stalls, watching painters and sculptures create little works of art in front of my very eyes. One piece in particular was more intriguing than the rest for it was more than just one piece it was many pieces that make just one. It is called a Matryoshka, you may know it as a Russian Doll. They begin by making either a very large or very small ornate wooden shaped doll, then they make others and each one smaller or bigger than the next until the whole set fits inside of itself. Have you seen one before?”

“I am glad you had a nice time in Russia Charles but now is really not the time for culture lessons”

“Cause if you have not, I have seen one, this very night, in the helm with Captain Miguel. Strange he would have this among his many ornaments, with flamenco dancers and what looked to be a wooden carving of a guitar. How did Captain Miguel find a Matryoshka in Havana.”

“You would prefer to discuss Miguels trinkets and toys than a plan to stop what you basically described as the end of the world”

“No, no, we are discussing the same thing. My focus is on trust, you see, this boat is rusting, the nets are dry, the controls are not operational, it merely sails on the water. I doubt it has seen a fishing trip in a very long time. So how is it you came to meet our charismatic captain.”

“Miguel is from Bahia Honda himself, he has sailed back and forth between there and Havana long before the Russians ever got here. We met at the port in Havana, where he was selling his freshly caught fish. I asked him for passage to Bahia many months ago and we agreed to a regular voyage. We are after the same thing, he speaks often of his disgust for the soviets and his love for Cuba.”

“Yet, there is no sign of Cuba on this ship, and a Cuban who dislikes Rum, it is unheard of. This liquid we are drinking is unmistakably Vodka, it is no closer to Gin than Whiskey is. Our Captain enjoys his as cold as possible and in the form of shots, he does not sip like a gentleman or let it linger, he drinks for strength, courage, warmth, might. Much like my companions on that lovely trip to St Petersburg. Who calls the Commis, Soviets, not any Cuban I have spoken to. If your network is as strong as mine, you surely will know that the Russians are using red symbols on ships to identify each other, much like those striking curtains next door.”

“Charles, you are simply insufferable, you turn up, nearly blow my cover, come along for the ride, shoot down our plans and insist you can fight bullets with words. Then, you come up with these wild theories about someone I have known and trusted for many months. Tomorrow, we will leave you at the port and you can hike to San Cristobal. By the time you arrive we will have cut their power, and they will be glad of your company.”

“Lucía, I ask you to see sense, he has no intention of ever seeing this plan through, how many times have you taken this trip and taken no action”

“It is called caution, you might remember suggesting it yourself earlier”

“Caution can so easily be distraction or misdirection, I only ask you for an open mind”

“Get some sleep Charles, we won’t reach the bay until the morning, then we can go our separate ways”

Lucía lay down and pulled the blankets over her, turning towards the wall. Charles let out a breath and looked down into his glass, swirling his drink and taking in its aroma. He turned his head to look out the window at Havana disappearing in the distance, he wouldn’t sleep a minute, not tonight.

The boat was gently bobbing on the waves as the sun shone through the window. Lucía woke to a familiar smell filling the cabin, arabica. Turning over she saw Charles there, gently pouring into two cups, steam streaming off the flow of liquid and its very sight awoke her senses. She rose from the bed and pulled a shirt from the hook, it was oversized and heavy, she pulled it around her like a hug. On the table there was pack of cigarillos, she pulled one out and reached for the lighter. This caught Charles’ attention, he walked over and placed a cup of fresh coffee before her, then pulled a chair out and sat down. He reached across to take his own cigarillo and then took his lighter from his breast pocket. The first pull of that cigarette was full of angst, stress, contempt, frustration and then like valve, release. Smoke filled the air, battling for the same attention that the coffee had received. Both of their shoulders loosened, and they relaxed back in their chairs.

Charles took a sip of his coffee and let out a sigh.

“Must feel like home, I can’t imagine a more French start to the day than coffee and cigarettes”

“A Croissant would be nice, or a buttered baguette maybe, but we will have to wait for port if we want breakfast”

“Will we land soon, it seems our captain locked himself in the cabin some hours ago and we have been bobbing ever since.”

“You don’t expect him to work through the night, he must rest too, he will rise soon and you better hope there’s some of this left because he is not fond of the dawn”

“There is a cup or two left, I made plenty, we will need it, if we are going to make this trek”

“Excuse me? What trek is that I thought we were going our separate ways. You were going to speak sense in San Cristobal”

“My plans have not changed but my itinerary can allow for a detour, I will accompany you to this power station and see it for myself. It would do me no good to go into town speaking of peace at the same time you declare war”

“Who said you were welcome on our mission, you made some strong statements last night, it is hard to look past your feelings about my companion”

“My dear, we have only just met, you have yet to realize that my adventurous spirit is only outweighed by my vivid imagination. It has as often got me in trouble as it has gotten me out of it. Our Captain need not know of my ramblings, and we can proceed with your mission”

“So, I am just to forget all this talk of Russia and your paranoia”

“If you can’t get it off your mind, put it to the back and let us focus on the task at hand. Where will we find these rebels when we get to the port”

“They will find us, they always do, they run the ports, and they always see to their fee”

“They say a revolution is a nasty business but a business all the same”

The coastline began to look like a moving picture exiting stage left, and they knew they were moving again. There were muffled sounds of a radio coming from the helm and Charles listened intently as he sipped his coffee. He could not hear much more than Miguels deep baritone voice speaking some dialect of Spanish. The helm door opened first, and then heavy footsteps came along the deck, the cabin door opened and the sight of a weary-eyed captain appeared. As he entered Lucía stood up pouring an extra cup and moving to the next seat over. He sat down at the table and took his cigar from the ashtray, and with the strike of a match lit it once again. They sat in silence, smoke and coffee leaving the room to let the fresh sea air in, bringing a cool breeze and a sense of calm to them all.

“Miguel, Charles will come with us to the power station, first we need to meet the rebels, can you speak to Gonzales”

“Oh, my sweet mango woman, you’re going to break my heart. We cannot go ahead with this plan, it’s far too dangerous, and I can’t let you do it”

“I know you’re scared, I know it’s crazy and we might fail but I didn’t sign up for this mission just to let two men on opposite sides of the world blow us all to hell. If we fight, we may die but if we just lie down, we may as well be dead”

“So be it, when we land, I will find Gonzales and see what he has to say. We only hope that these rebels have not been corrupted, I fear they’re only loyal to the highest bidder”

Charles let out a little laugh underneath his breath and caught a glaring look from Lucía

“A sentiment I share with you Mon Capitan”

He rose up from the seat and tipped his cigarillo before taking his coffee out onto the deck to watch the coast close in.

“How can you trust this Englishman so soon Lucía”

“I do not, not completely, but if we are to do this, it simply cannot be just us”

“What if I can get Gonzales to get us some men, maybe even some from San Cristobal, that know the terrain”

“You say you don’t trust the rebellion, and you want to let them in on all our plans. We know the terrain, we have seen the station, we just have to get in quietly, unnoticed, and take it out of action. We can only hope they are not guarding it when we arrive.

“We will travel at nightfall, we will arrive  at break of day tomorrow, before anyone is stirring from their beds and catch them off guard”

“Let’s just hope we still have enough time”

Miguel returned to the helm and Lucía joined Charles out on deck to watch as they entered the port of Bahia Honda.

Charles had asked Miguel to borrow some clothes and ended up finding an old check shirt and some dark combats trousers in the cabin. He washed himself from the sink and changed into his fresh clothes, tucking his shirt and popping two buttons at the top, then he put his sunglasses on and went on deck. The port was small, but the bay curved, from point to point it was 180 degrees and in the center reaching out towards the sea, a long wide pier. All along was cut out notches for different sized ships, each one larger as they neared the shore. Miguel brought the ship to the middle of the pier and threw his rope out to a waiting port attendant. Then he stood upon the boat’s ledge and leaped onto the pier. They pulled and tugged the ropes until the boat was in line and then Miguel tied it off before giving the attendant a firm handshake and big embrace.

“Come Charles, come Lucía, meet my friend Jorge”

Charles stepped off the edge and turned back, outstretching his hand to help Lucía down from the boat. She was wearing shorts now, and a utility vest, a belt around her waist with different pockets, and a holster attachment. She stepped forward and shook Jorges’s hand, and Charles did too, but stood back behind Lucía then. Miguel had stepped back on the boat to get their bags, and they came suddenly thudding down in front of them.

“My friends, we are going to go and speak to Gonzales, we will see if he is sympathetic to our cause, it is better we go alone”

“Let me speak to Gonzales, I have been meeting with his type for more than year now in those dusty saloons in Havana”

“He is no simple rebel my dear, he is the toughest and most reclusive in all of Cuba. Jorge here has been trying to get an audience with him for many months, only this morning did he agree when he heard of our mission over the radio”

Charles suddenly stepped forward

“You have been sharing our plans along the radio waves, don’t you know my man that they could be listening to every word”

“You think everyone a fool around you, we speak in a sailors code, there is no interceptence, because what we say means nothing and raises no interest.”

“I do not think anyone a fool, in fact I consider the fool a most serious foe, especially when he is merely masquerading”

“You would speak of disguises, I am not sure even YOU remember who you are”

“I remember more than you know Captain”

Lucía pulled on Charles shirt and broke into the conversation

“Go then, speak to your rebels, and meet us by the top of the pier at nightfall, we must leave if we are to reach the San Cristobal Hills by daybreak”

Miguel and Jorge loaded the bags and themselves into a jeep and drove off up the pier. Charles and Lucía start to walk from the boat towards the shops and cafes. They passed fishermen and workers, loading cargo or sorting their catches from the morning. The sea air was still on the breeze and afternoon sun was breaking through the clouds and lighting up the town. They walked around the market and shopped for things they may need on their mission. To seem inconspicuous, they spoke of nature walks and hunt for birds in the forests, and on the sea. This made all the items they were purchasing seem insignificant. When they spoke to the merchants they acted as if they had not been to the area and that Charles was discovering Cuba, he took on a new role now as a nature journalist. Lucía was surprised that he could speak so well on the subject of wildlife and the natives’ birds and animals of Cuba. She was laughing and making fun of him as he explained the different calls of the wild. Yet Charles had never studied wildlife or bird calls, what he had studied was Cuba, its terrain, native species, culture, history and anything he could before he left for his mission.

Charles considered no piece of information insignificant, he had been taking everything in since he had walked into that bar the day before. Lucía and Miguel seemed the perfect companions, just the people to get him to where he needed to go and complete his mission. Still, Charles had one thing he valued above all else and it was intuition, he could not fully trust his new party, there were motives that remained unclear and information he hadn’t been able to get, so he planned his own contingencies. When Lucía went to find a bathroom in a café Charles made his way back to the stalls. First, he visited a leather maker and enquired after a shoulder strapped gun holster, he seen hanging in the back, then he moved down towards a stall selling jackets. He purchased a military style jacket in dark colours and put it on over his holster, then he bent down to tie his laces and retrieved Lucía’s gun from his boot. When he stood up, he tucked it away on his left side beneath his jacket. Lucía suddenly tapped him on the shoulder, and he tensed up slightly and turned to her.

“Did you intend to leave me Mr Masters”

“I did tell you I was a salve to appearances, I felt a little under dressed”

“It suits you, come on, let’s go, we have to be at the port”

“Oh, didn’t you want to walk along the beach for old times’ sake”

“Give it up Charles”

They took a side street out of the back of the market and headed down towards the cafés by the pier. Sunset came shortly after they had arrived at the agreed place, they took a seat and ordered two beers, then they studied maps and kept their cover up. They still looked at the area they would be going to and Lucia told Charles of all the security fences, military presence and surveillance she had seen in previous visits. She was sure if they arrived early in the morning that the patrols would not be out to the area yet and they could get in and out. After dark they seen the lights of the jeep coming down the road and it pulled up right along where they were seated.

Miguel stepped out and pulled some money from his pockets, throwing it on the table

“Get in, now”

They grabbed their backpacks and jumped into the back of the jeep, and it took off towards the edge of town. Charles was behind Miguel and Jorge was driving, he was taking his time to get a sense of the energy in the car, it seemed tense. Lucía was telling them what supplies they had got in the market and where they had marked on the maps. They were reaching the countryside when the last of the lamplights were flooding in and Charles noticed Jorges hands, bloodied and bruised, but they had not been like that at the port earlier that day.

“Well Gents, how was our mysterious rebel, will he be meeting us in San Cristobal”

Miguel reached up and adjusted the rearview mirror to see Charles from the passenger seat.

“They won’t be making it on this mission. We could not agree on a solution to our problems. Gonzales gave us some explosives and wished us luck but don’t count on the rebels, it’s just us now”

“Lucky, we had other plans then”

The journey from Bahia Honda took them up through country roads, slowly inclining into mountainous areas. They drove for hours but stopped a few times to stretch their legs and use the bathroom. Lucía slept on Charles lap for periods of time, but he could not relax. There was little to no light in the jeep but from time to time he would look  through the front window and swore Miguels eyes were still watching him in the rearview. Their two companions barely spoke and although during their roadside stops Charles tried to chat to Jorge, he could get not much more than a few words. So, he sat running the events of the past days in his mind and thinking about what he read of Cuba and how true it had really all been.

They arrived at the opening of a forest area just as early light began in the sky. They would have to get out, walk through this forest area and then cut across a field and into a river. Then they could come up behind the station and not run into any patrols. The equipment was spread out between them all and Lucía agreed to take the explosives and stay at the back of the group. When they were just a few metres into the walk Jorge suddenly realized he had forgotten extra charge wires and said he must go back to the truck. So, they waited in the clearing and discussed the power station. Miguel had discovered that when they entered through the fence there would be two buildings, one was a maintenance storage and the other housed the main generators, they needed to go to the left building. Charles was tightening the chords on his bag when he heard a radio static and hushed the other two.

“Did you hear that, there was a radio just there, get down, get down”

Lucía moved but Miguel did not and he stepped toward Charles

“Hold your cool English, that was nothing, it is just us up here”

“I heard it from that direction, maybe we should check on…”

Jorge burst through the brush at that moment and Charles took a step back and held up his hands.

“See English, not every sound is the enemy, let’s get moving, let’s get moving”

Charles asked Jorge if he had heard anything, but he said he had just been to the car and back and there was nothing out here except for them. They moved in single file through the tree line to the edge of the forest. When they reached the field, they hunched and moved slow and low across it, to the edge of the river. Further up the bank there were stones leading to the other side, so they moved down until it was safe to cross and made it over to the power station fence. Miguel stepped up and used a cutters to make a hole in the fence, they came in one by one and then huddled together. There was no sign of anyone, and the main gates seemed to be still locked. Miguel put his finger to his lips and pointed to the building on the left, it seemed much smaller than the maintenance store, but he pointed to himself and then them and then gestured that way. They moved across the yard and when they reached the door Miguel used a crowbar to pry it open. Charles entered first then Miguel, Lucía and Jorge.

When Charles got inside, he searched the wall for the light and when he turned it on, he realized they were inside the maintenance stores. There were two chairs in the center of the room and what looked like dry blood on the floor. When Lucía realized she start to ask Miguel what this was and then Jorge pushed her towards the center from behind and pulled a gun from his hip, pointing it at them. Lucía fell to the ground and stumbled up towards Charles, into his arms.

Miguel put his bag on a long table and opened it, taking a small rolled up kit out of it and dropping it on the table. It rolled loose and revealed a number of small medical tools.

“Now I think it is time we had a little chat, and really got to know each other”

Lucía shook and wrestled out of Charles grip, lurching forward towards Miguel

“What are you doing, what is this Miguel, what are you doing!”

“Calm down my darling, calm, calm, we have plenty of time, plenty”

“For what Miguel, are you handing us over to the Russians, are you working for them, are you”

“Take a seat, we will explain it all, just sit down”

“You’re going to have to make me! Make me!”

Miguel was calm and he gently stepped toward her and struck her with such force she hit the ground and her nose started to bleed. Charles jumped forward but halted when Jorge pointed the gun in his direction. Miguel took Lucía by her hair and dragged her toward the chairs in the center, she screamed and screamed but he lifted her from the ground and crashed her into the chair. Charles stood still helpless to the situation as Miguel tied her hands to the chair.

“Now Mr Masters, don’t make me hurt your pretty face too, take a seat”

“I don’t think ill be doing that Captain, you’re going to have to make me as well”

“Oh, I thought you would never ask”

Miguel went back to the table and pulled a large blade from the sleeve. As he moved towards him, Charles began to circle left until Miguel was between him and Jorge. When Miguels got closer, Charles pulled his gun, he was startled by its sudden appearance. Charles lunged at Miguel, slapping him with the gun and sending him to the floor, then he let off one shot and sent Jorge flying backwards into barrels by the door. He walked towards Jorge gun still drawn and kicked at his feet; he was dead. Charles ran back over to Lucía and began to undo her ties.

“Charles what is going on, is he dead Charles, is he dead”

“Hush now, we need to move”

Charles grabbed Lucías bag and handed it to her and they headed towards the door. Miguel suddenly grabbed Charles’ leg and dragged him to ground in one pull. He screamed out to Lucía

“Keep going, plant the explosives, go, go!”

Lucía hesitated but ran towards the door, swinging it open. Miguel was on him now, blood dripping onto Charles face as Miguel rained down fists. Charles put his forearms up to defend the fists, but Miguel began to hit his body until he could not breathe, he turned to his side and tried to wriggle free. The gun was beneath the chair, just inches from him and he was reaching for it with all his might. He could not reach it, so he swung back and planted his elbow into Miguel, sending him back. Then from outside, the sound of the gates bursting open and the doorway was filled with light. Charles pushed himself from the ground and heard screams, but as he sprung forward to get up Miguel met him with a clean shot and sent him backward, unconscious.

Charles woke to the sound of Russian, he knew some conversational pieces, and he could tell that they were speaking about him and Lucía. Their hands were tied together and crossed over left to right, right to left. They were locked in an X shape on the chairs, he could barely move his hands and even if he could what hope would there be, given how entangled they were. He looked around to see the room and by the table was Miguel and another man in Military uniform. Charles could tell exactly who it was from his badges, just who he expected had been on the Dubno all along.

“Zdravstvuyte…. komandir Brezhnev.”

The two men turned and the man in military uniform made an exaggerated clapping motion and walked towards Charles. He put his hands on both Charles’ cheeks and shook his head

“Mr Charles Masters, what a pleasure! what a pleasure! Art Dealer, Car Salesman, Nature Journalist, and even diplomatic envoy to France was it, maybe it was Spain. It got you into St Petersburg none the less, wow, this is a treat”

“What brings you to this sunny climate Komandir, and where are your swim shorts”

“Yes, yes Mr Masters, please make your fun, it won’t be a moment before Mikhail is ready”

Over on the table Miguel was preparing his tools and was running a blade over a low flame, it blackened and began to look orange in the light

“You do know Mikhail don’t you Mr Masters. Captain you were calling him I believe, well yes, it is close enough, and he will be more than this when we return to Moscow. He is truly spectacular, a chameleon of sorts, we sent him out here almost a decade ago to set up our operation. You know all about the operation, I know this, you said so to dear Lucía here, or should we say Marie, no let’s not ruin that surprise just yet. Mikhail has been so good, he practically emptied the town of San Cristobal himself. With a little help from Georgiy, our fallen comrade. Yes, Mr Masters, we will rise from the ashes of this town and be crowned kings in our homeland, and Georgiy will be among the remembered.”

“It comes as no surprise to me Brezhnev, trust a Russian to play with dolls and hang red everywhere, there’s more than two colours you know, you might try mix it up.”

“Still, you are tied to the chair and we stand here victorious, so who should really be giving the advice. I must thank you both, we have had a little thorn in our side for some time with these rebels, you think it was dear Lucía, but she was more the puppet. No, no, these rebels really had us beat, stopping shipments, delaying our build, and they even tried to sink the Dubno. What could we do, what could we do… until… two spies walk into a bar in Havana and word makes it to Gonzales. Well, he was more than delighted to have a meeting with these spies, so he came out of hiding. When Mikhail and Georgiy arrived to represent you, things turned a little violent. Don’t worry Charles, we left your business card behind.”

“What use would it be now, I assume you are planning to torture us and then end the world, very original of you, very”

“We are just looking for answers Charles, just answers. We didn’t provoke anyone, The Americans came to us, moved into our back gardens and now they cry when we visit our friends here for a holiday. Throw stones and get bullets we say, it’s the only way to learn.”

“Well, you may let us go, neither of us pledged allegiance to a flag, we are practically tourists, just like you, why don’t we go have a Daiquiri and we can laugh it off”

“No, I don’t think we can laugh, I think its time for tears. Mikhail, wake her up”

Mikhail walked over from the table and put the burning blade to the back of Lucías arm. She screamed and began to thrash around pulling at the restraints and shaking the two chairs. Mikhail sprayed water on her arm and she screamed even more. There was a smell of burning in the air and she writhed in agony.

“How could you MIGUEL, how could you!”

“Hush princess, hush, it will get worse”

Brezhnev clapped in glee as he watched Lucía crying, screaming  and throwing insults

“Now Charles, focus, I want information and every time you do not tell me something, we make a little more barbeque of our sweet girl here”

“Just ask Brezhnev, just ask, what use are lies, what use is secrecy.”

“You ask the use, well the thrill, of the hunt, of feeling hunted, the rush of nearly being caught, of wearing the identity of someone else, but you know this, Charles. Do not speak to me as if I have heard nothing of the lives you have destroyed. It takes more courage to do it openly than under the cover of darkness.”

“Openly, yes, openly talking of the end of days, do you realize there will be nowhere to go. The nuclear fallout from the mutual destruction you face will wipe all life off earth. Maybe not to begin with, maybe not but eventually. The nuclear winter is real and if you do not convince Khrushchev to back down, it will be upon the world and the blood on your hands wont matter in the flames.”

“Chills, I have chills, you paint a vision of a world you will not live to see, for you die here Mr Masters, once you tell me, where is the silo in Italy. We know the Americans have been building too, but we need the region, and I do not think that the British were not told. Let us end it easy, a location for a bullet, otherwise I am afraid we will be here all night”

“Let her go, let her run, then I will tell you, she knows nothing, she is but a pawn in a war that never really started”

“After all this time I am afraid what she might do to Mikhails reputation with her stories”

“You’re a coward Brezhnev, you would let Kruschev lead you all blindly into this destruction, where is your duty and honor to your country.”

“DON’T! Question my honor, I was a Komandir in the Red Army when Germany came to take our homeland. I drove them out through the snow back where they came from. Then what does my dear departed leader do but call Khrushchev back from torturing people, to heel like a dog at his side. I have watched as he chases these Americans to space, builds his silos and his bombs and wages war on the world. My country starves, the people are born and bred for war, we have lost our might, we have lost our way.”

“Then let me help you find it Brezhnev, I can speak to the Americans, we can sue for peace, you can show your people there is a better way, a brighter way”

“Peace will not be in our time Charles, maybe in the next life”

Brezhnev turned and gestured to Mikhail.

“Soften him up”

Mikhail took a large sock from his bag and dropped two small weights into it, he walked over to Charles and began swinging it into his ribs and then to his face. His cheek was cut open, and one of his teeth came loose, he could feel it wiggle in his mouth. Each time Mikhail would be ready to swing, Charles would tense and brace. Lucía continued to scream and plea for mercy and to stop, but he continued. Brezhnev had pulled up a chair and watched as the beating continued. Charles managed to get a few words out between the swings

“You…could….lead… lead…them”

Brezhnev put his hand up in the air and Mikhail stopped, he walked over to Charles and came down low to his face to see his eyes. They were beaten, and bloodied, but they were fierce, there was determination, resilience and a quiet fire raging in him.

“If Khrushchev makes peace with America…. he will… seem weak… you can strike, you can lead”

Brezhnev cupped Charles’ cheek in his hand and then gently slapped it, and smirked.

He stood up and turned to Mikhail.

“Get the knife, I want his tongue”

Mikhail walked toward the table, laughing like a giddy child, and rolled out his kit. He pulled out a large pliers and a thin sharp knife and turned back to Brezhnev. A shot rang out and Charles winced, his ears ringing from it and the pain of his beating amplifying it. He had closed his eyes and when he opened them Brezhnev was standing before him holstering his pistol. Mikhail lay on the floor by the table, dead.

“Speak, or the next bullets are for both of you”

“We can convince the Americans, but I need assurance”

“I need assurances, a lot more than you!”

“This site needs to be dysfunctional, TODAY, to give me time to get to Washington.”

“Khrushchev will suspect the Americans, it wont work, it will escalate”

“Tell him it was your spies, radicalized by the local rebels, undercover too long, you saved the base, but you could not save the power station, you need time to rebuild”

“The Americans won’t go for it, why would they, it is madness”

“Sign a letter, that with Cuba over you will get rid of Khrushchev and you will end the Nuclear programmes, tell me what we need to do to convince Moscow”

“They are afraid of Turkey, it will need to be dismantled, and this base in Italy must stop immediately, if they promise that, there will be a truce, for now”

“You must use this momentum to end Khrushchev’s reign, stop this nuclear obsession and end this war”

“I will do it for my country, or I will die.”

Brezhnev cut them loose and Lucía fell to the ground, in agony and the skin of her arm burning still, she could not speak, could barely walk, and was lucid. Brezhnev began to throw petrol from a can on the shelf all over the maintenance shed, then he lit a match and flung it. The shed caught fire and burst into flames as they entered the courtyard.

“Go Charles, take her back to the boat, he kept Money on board and the keys to a small plane that sits in the port, it will take to you to America, go now, I will buy you a few days. Don’t fail Mr Masters, this is the fate of the world.”

Charles put himself under Lucía and shouldered her weight, he took her to the fence and turned back just as Brezhnev was shooting at his own car. By the time they reached the forest again the explosions began, first a small one in the maintenance store and then two large explosions. Charles watched as the tower came down taking the powerlines with it. They ripped toward the ground in a straight-line destroying tree and the soil beneath it, and he could see all the way into the valley the power poles exploding.

They made it to the car and Charles put Lucía into the back. The journey back to Bahia was long and Charles was in agony the whole way, he made a call ahead on the radio and drove as fast as he could. When they reached the port, it was almost night again and Charles was delirious, he was in great pain from the beating and it’s possible his ribs were broken.

The jeep pulled in at a café and Charles stepped out. A voice called out from the terrace

“Fancy a cup of tea”

Charles turned to see the leather merchant from the day before. More than a leather merchant, this was Charles contact in Bahia Honda and the reason he came this way with Lucía. They had planned to meet back there after blowing the station and continue on to San Cristobal.

“Not just now, I am afraid it’s a little too late. I wouldn’t mind a hand lifting a package”

They both lifted Lucía from the back of the car and carried her down the pier to the boat. When they got inside the cabin, there was a woman waiting with a nurse’s bag, she motioned hurriedly to the bed, and they lay Lucía down. She began to check her and put cold towels on her arm and her forehead. Charles walked back out onto the deck to speak to the merchant.

“Did you find the plane”

“Yes, it was in the next port over, still there, fueled and ready. You can rest and fly in the morning”

“No, no, this cannot wait, I must fly tonight, where is the pilot”

“Sir, you are seriously beaten and injured, you cannot”

“Tell him to be ready, we leave at midnight, no delay”

The plane landed in a small field airstrip just outside Washinton DC, it was as the morning was breaking. Charles got off the plane and headed to the tree line, there was a car parked there, keys already inside. He jumped in and opened a go-bag on the passenger seat, there was a fresh suit, new identifications, a folder of files and a pistol. On the way into D.C he stopped into a hotel and got a room under his new identity, James Wilson. First, he would freshen up, and then he would visit the White House.

It was just after 9am in the morning when McGeorge Bundy, National Security Advisor to President Kennedy, entered the West Wing. Underneath his arm was a red folio, the same one that was presented to him at his home every morning, by his detail. The file contained a 24-hour security summary on a number of subjects; persons of interest, ongoing surveillance missions, regime reports from across the world and most importantly impending threats to America. By 10am he would be sitting in front of the president and providing these updates to create the days security action plan. When he got to his office, his secretary was not at her desk as usual, and his office door was ajar. He slowed down and entered the room to find his secretary leaning on his desk and laughing with a stranger who was facing the opposite direction.

“Martha! I was not expecting a 9am, has my schedule changed or have you forgotten to tell me”

Martha was startled and jumped to attention, fixing herself, brushing her skirt and trying to stutter together a sentence.

“Mr Bundy… No… I… this is Mr…”

Charles rose from his seat, buttoned his jacket closed and stretched out his hand.

“Wilson, James Wilson, I am sorry to drop in on you on such short notice. Martha has been a gracious host, and I told her we were old friends”

Bundys eyes were wide and he was shaking Charles hand without any words.

“Yes, yes, I just was not expecting to see you, at all, or ever again. I am in shock. Thank you, Martha, you can leave us”

Charles took his seat again and Bundy went around the other side of the desk, dropping his folder down and picking up a pack of cigarettes, he lit one, and took a seat.

“Charles, I opened that folder there this morning and read through it on the way here. Right in the middle was a piece about two missing agents from MI5 and the DGSE, presumed dead in Cuba. I knew you were there and I assumed the worst, and still, here you are, in my office, waiting, what in the world”

“Well Bundy my man, they left this folder right here in my hands out of your little folio. See in here it explains that the two bodies in Cuba are Russian Sleepers, sent to Cuba a number of years ago to begin early operations there. They met their end in a power station in the hills of San Cristobal, which was then blown up only minutes later… by Leonid Brezhnev”

“Komandir Brezhnev!”

“The very man Bundy, the very man. See you were right to worry, it was nearly the end for me in that power station, but I have always been persuasive and if it is one thing man wants more than war, it is power. Our Komandir awaits the end of this standstill in Cuba before he acts in Moscow”

“He intends to challenge Krushchev, what does he want of us, we have our own concerns, they are practically on the doorstep, and John won’t want to back down”

“I know Kennedy has his reservations, but he is a rational man, here’s what needs to happen. In this folder is a number in Moscow, Khrushchev’s direct line. Gather up the council, Johnson and Kennedy, and convince him to make the call. Tell them you will dismantle the base in Turkey and as a gesture wind down the base in Italy, this will be enough. They will agree to pull out of Cuba.”

“Then what Charles, he still wants war, first it was space, then it was the nuclear programme, now he’s making plans for berlin, we don’t know what’s behind that curtain. You want me to trust one of his own men”

“I want you to trust me McGeorge, Brezhnev won’t stop until he gets Krushchev out. I met the man, his country’s hurting, they can’t fight the war and rebuild the nation, they must look inward. This will give him the chance to make Khrushchev seem radical, erratic and weak, then your man in Moscow will be one you can trust”

“Somedays I don’t even trust myself Charles”

“You’re doing good Bundy, it’s going to okay, tell Kennedy I said hello”

Charles rose from his chair and pulled his hat and coat from the rack and headed for the door.

“Wait! London thinks you’re dead, we got the memo, what do you want me to say”

“You know what McGeorge, tell them another one of your reporters was in here this morning, hot off the press, and forget about me.”

“Where are you going to go”

“I got a date, down in Miami beach, she’s on the slow boat from Cuba”

 

The New York Times                                    October 28^th  1962

Soviet Union Agrees to Dismantle Cuban Missile Sites; Kennedy Says Crisis Over