Just before departing, Salazar turned on his wife. “I brought you to this meal to meet the American,” he snarled. “I thought you would at least be civil.”
Juana was not intimidated. “How can I be civil in the presence of your whore? Why do you insist on flaunting the simple creature? Why don’t you just leave her in bed where she belongs?”
Salazar grabbed Juana’s arm and pulled her to her feet. She showed no emotion while Helga commenced to blubber. “See what I have to put up with, Kendrick? My own wife, a woman who should be submissive, shows no respect for me. Do you like women, Kendrick?”
“Of course,” he answered softly, wondering what the hell kind of trouble any answer would result in.
“Excellent,” Salazar said as he roughly pushed Juana back into her chair. “Tonight she will come to your room and you have my permission to fuck her. No, I insist that you fuck her.”
With that astonishing pronouncement, Salazar left. Kendrick figured that Salazar would be gone the better part of a week. With his angry departure, the diners abruptly left for their respective rooms.
As was customary in Cuba, they had eaten late and Kendrick had not gotten to his suite until midnight. He stripped to his cotton underclothing, sat on the bed, and lit a thin cigar. He normally enjoyed a good Cuban smoke, but not this evening. He was too tense to fall asleep so there was no danger of fire from smoking in bed.
He heard a noise and watched as the doorknob turned and the door opened. To his astonishment, Juana entered. She was wearing a long nightgown and carried what looked like a robe over her right arm.
She stood a few feet in front of him and dropped the robe from over her arm. She had a derringer in her hand.
“My husband commanded me to come here and submit to you. If I don’t, he will beat me. The servants have seen me enter your room and will believe that you and I will have done what he wished.”
This is incredible, Kendrick thought. “You don’t have to worry about me, Juana. I would never hurt you or take you against your will.”
She blinked and nodded. “I’d like to believe you, but I don’t. Gilberto has been cruel and brutal, but he’s never done anything like this before. I think he has been slipping further into madness each day. Regardless, if you try to force me, I will kill you.”
“No you wouldn’t.”
“And why not?”
He noticed that her hand was shaking. “You didn’t cock the pistol.”
She looked bewildered. “What?”
“With that model, you have to cock the hammer to make it fire. Are you even certain it’s loaded?”
Her jaw dropped. He reached over and took the derringer from her unprotesting hand. She hadn’t cocked it, but it was loaded. He removed the bullet and handed the pistol back to her.
“If you’d like, you may hit me over the head with it. However, you will have no reason to.”
Juana smiled wanly and sat down in a chair across the room. “In truth, I was never too worried. Some of Gilberto’s friends are as monstrous as he, but you did not strike me as one of them. Now, however, I must stay here long enough for the two women who spy for him to be satisfied that we have consummated his command. Someday I think I will delight in having those two shrews whipped within an inch of their lives, but that would mean I would sink to his level.”
“Would he really beat you?”
Juana shrugged. “He has in the past. Nothing serious, just a few slaps and punches to places where the bruises won’t show. He’s a very cruel person who has had people who offended him whipped and mutilated, especially the peasants. Some he’s even had killed. He will do nothing like that to me. My uncle is a bishop here in Havana and Gilberto fears for his immortal soul in his own strange way.”
Kendrick knew many men who beat their wives. It was quite common, although, as a bachelor, he didn’t know how to judge someone who did. He was no saint, but he had never struck a woman and couldn’t imagine circumstances where he would. Self-defense, of course, was another matter and a woman with a pistol was a clear threat. He was glad that Juana was so inept with guns.
“How can I help you, Juana?”
She smiled again and this time it was with a measure of warmth. “Since we are going to be together for a while, you might get me one of those cigarillos.”
* * *
President Custer read the latest intelligence estimates and was appalled. “Are you telling me that as of only a few years ago, the Spanish had a quarter of a million soldiers in Cuba? Dear God, I didn’t think they had a fifth of that.”
Secretary of War Robert Todd Lincoln was equally dismayed. “This information only came to light recently. The large numbers of Spanish soldiers was as a result of their long war against Cuban insurgents. We have no idea how many of them remain. We do know, however, that significant reinforcements have landed and that others are en route.”
Lieutenant General Phil Sheridan shifted his bulk in a chair that was far too small for him. “These are only numbers, General Custer. What they don’t say is how well trained, equipped, or led the Spanish army is. It is also very likely that many of their soldiers are Cuban militia of dubious quality.”
“There are still far too many of them. Dear God, what have I gotten us into?”
“This is the war you wanted,” Sheridan said, stifling a laugh. “However, there is some good news. Many of the Spanish troops are not in the Havana area. We estimate there are about fifty thousand in and around Santiago, with other sizeable garrisons protecting other cities from the rebels. That and the sheer size of Cuba means that the Spanish will not be able to easily reinforce Havana, although they will doubtless try once we land and commit ourselves. We will always be outnumbered, but we should be able to outfight them, even though they will be based in a heavily fortified city.”
Custer wiped his brow. He was sweating profusely. “What will the Spanish do when we land?”
Lincoln was about to respond, but Sheridan beat him to it. “General Valeriano Weyler commands the troops around Havana. He is a young, fiery, aggressive and cruel commander. He will attack as soon as he can and will attempt to drive us into the sea around Matanzas. He will not permit his army to become a punching bag for us to wear down and destroy.”
Custer stood and paced his office. “When will we attack?”
“It’s somewhat up to the navy, but their plans say there will be no more than two weeks before embarking. It will also take a good week to steam to Matanzas. Then figure another week to disembark the troops, unload supplies, and get organized.”
“That’s too long,” Custer said in a whisper.
“We could call it off,” Lincoln said hopefully, “and give negotiations another chance.”
“No, damn it! We’d look like bloody fools. We have to fight them and beat them. We must have this war and we must take Cuba. Just like Blaine says, our country’s future as a great power depends on it. We can’t just back off and let a third-rate piss-ant country like Spain humiliate us. I don’t like what I’ve just heard, but I have to accept the reality of the situation.”
“It doesn’t matter how the Spanish split their forces, our boys will still be outnumbered many times over,” said Sheridan. “We haven’t been able to enlist anywhere near the number of men we thought we’d need. You could be looking at a blood bath if things don’t work out.”
“All the more reason I should be in command,” Custer snapped. “It’s going to take a brave and resourceful commander to lead the army to victory and I’m not certain Nelson Miles is that man.”