Cliff Ryder - The Powers That Be

Kate caught a signal from KeyWiz. “Marcus is on his way. That should shorten your time considerably,” she said.

“Yes, now all we have to do is find a needle in the Cuban jungle. As soon as you’ve pinpointed their exact location, text me the coordinates.”

“You’ll have it.”

“All right, it’s been disinfected, salved and bandaged, so you’re ready to go,” Karen said in the background. “I won’t tell you to go easy on it, since you won’t, but that should see you through.”

“Thanks. Primary, I’ve got to get ready. Is there anything else you need from me?” Jonas faced them again through his tiny screen, pain and fatigue drawing his face tight.

“No, Beta, you’re cleared to go. You know that you both have permission to terminate Valdes. Use whatever force you deem necessary to stop him.”

Jonas visibly deflated for a moment, and Kate thought he was going to pass out. “Beta, are you all right? Do we need to call in someone else on this?”

As quickly as it had happened, the moment passed, and he was the quintessential hardened operative again. “Negative, Primary, I’m on it. Besides, there is no one else. Acknowledge your message—any necessary force has been approved. Beta out.”

Jonas cut the connection, but not before Kate spotted what she thought might have been the gleam of a tear in the older man’s eye. Before she could comment on it, Judy was on-screen.

“Kate, I think you should take a look at this.” She brought up another screen, this one showing a map of the Caribbean Sea. Cuba was featured in the middle, with the various island nations all around it. “We’ve been trying to find out where this force might be located, thinking perhaps they’re coming together on one of the other islands, since there are several that could be potentials in the area. But nothing indicates that anyone has been amassing men and equipment anywhere nearby. There’s nothing in the Bahamas, Jamaica or Haiti, which would be a poor staging ground anyway. Nor is there anything on the mainland, either in the Yucatan Peninsula of Mexico, and of course, I cannot see anyone being crazy enough to launch from Florida.”

“So while we’ve found out that a force is poised to strike, we haven’t found any evidence that they even exist?”

“Not in the traditional battlefield-encampment sense, no.” Judy zoomed in on the map of Cuba, which now included the shipping lanes. “A better possibility would be that, with the recent increase of tourism in Cuba, TEAR

might have just flown their forces in as small groups of tourists, waiting until they receive the signal to strike.”

“That makes sense. They could disperse until needed, but also take up positions around key areas in Havana and scout certain areas. They would certainly know how to elude the security in the city, and that would be the last thing the government would expect. But where will they get their equipment from?”

“From the only logical source—the harbor. El Supremo, put up that real-time map of the incoming vessels to Havana’s port, please,” Judy said.

The map changed colors, and all of the sea traffic appeared as slowly moving paths of light. Ships all over the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic Ocean came and went.

“Limit traffic to incoming to Cuba, please,” Judy ordered.

Hundreds of dots disappeared, leaving only about thirty coming from all different directions. “This is the register for the past twenty-four hours. Any one of these ships could be carrying the several thousand tons of gear and vehicles that a brigade-sized force would need to establish themselves.

They’re all registered with various Third World countries, and any one of them is coming from ports where it would be possible to load arms and vehicles aboard with no one being the wiser. In fact, it’s very possible that there is more than one ship involved.”

“Sail right into port and meet your men already there—

now, that’s gutsy. Too bad their supply line is about to be cut off.” Kate opened a channel to the three hackers. “Gentlemen, I need an alert from the Cuban Border Patrol to the Havana harbor, requesting that all foreign cargo ships be detained and fully inspected, under guard if need be, and I need it inserted into their communication network immediately. For the rest of those ships, this will be an inconvenience. But for anyone carrying contraband, they’ll be in for quite a surprise. Nice work, Judy.”

“Thank you. I just hope that Jonas and Marcus can stop the other part of this, or else we’re going to be seeing a very different headline on the morning news.”

True, and we’ll also have failed to stop what will most be a senseless slaughter, Kate thought. She banished the bleak thought from her mind and raised the three hackers again. “Once you’re done with that, I want someone to find out exactly where Raul Castro is going to be this morning.”

Marcus couldn’t help feeling pleased at the approving once-over Jonas had given the speedboat he had acquired from the Marina Hemingway in Havana. “If that doesn’t get us there quickly, I don’t know what will. Good job.”

The watercraft in question was a brand-new thirty-nine-foot cigarette boat painted in elegant darts of white, light blue and black, with inboard twin Mercury six-hundred-horsepower fuel-injected engines. Marcus had just shrugged modestly and said, “No problem.”

It really had been easy. Marcus had taken a walk along the marina, which was crammed with a wide array of foreign yachts, including several superyachts anchored offshore.

Strolling along until he had found an unattended boat that suited his needs, he jumped in, hotwired it and set off.

Guided by the downloaded patrol information from Primary, he avoided most of the border patrols, and even when one spotted him and tried to pursue him, he just pushed the throttle forward and left them eating his wake. Now they were refueling at the Deep Water and taking on the necessary gear to make their second incursion into Cuba.

As he carried a hard-sided rifle case aboard, Marcus noticed that Jonas moved more gingerly than before and occasionally a wince of pain crossed his features. He’d also noticed the dark stain on the aft deck, as well as what were obviously bullet holes pocking the back of the ship. He thought about asking Jonas, but instead went looking for Karen, finding her on the platform, checking equipment against a BlackBerry device.

“Hey, you got a minute?” he asked.

“I do, but you don’t,” she responded.

“What went down here? Jonas looks hurt, and I haven’t seen any of the crew except for you two, not to mention the obvious damage. Were you guys boarded?”

“Yeah.” Karen filled him in on what had happened earlier, including the casualty count. “They wanted it all, but bit off more than they could chew. We’ve got them under armed guard below, and drugged, as well—I don’t want anyone making an escape attempt or trying another shot at taking the ship.” She took a deep breath. “But that’s not important right now. You need to get your mind focused on your own mission, not what happened here.”

“Right. I’m sorry for your loss,” he said.

She glared at him. “Don’t be sorry for us. Be sorry for those poor bastards below. And make sure our people didn’t die for nothing.”

Marcus nodded, taken a bit aback by the cold fury in her eyes.

Jonas walked up at that moment. “This the last of it?”

“Yes. Good hunting,” Karen said.

There it was, Marcus thought. That wince again. Hope that injury doesn’t slow him down too much.

Jonas nodded, picked up one last piece of gear and stepped aboard the speedboat. Marcus snatched the last duf-fel bag and followed.