"Yeah, right," Ronnie said.
"They're getting ready to deploy that weapon," Nick said, "and we're out here sailing around off Cuba."
"Maybe not for much longer," Selena said. She pointed at a low, gray shape coming fast across the water.
Nick looked grim. "That's a Cuban patrol boat. The Russians sold a few to Castro years ago. I thought they'd all been sunk or decommissioned."
"I guess not all of them," Ronnie said. They could see the Cuban flag flying from the stern of the vessel.
"We're still outside Cuba's territorial waters," Nick said. "They shouldn't be here."
"I don't think they care about that," Elizabeth said.
"Ronnie, come with me," Nick said. "We have to ditch the weapons before they get here."
They went below and took out the weapons and handed them up to Selena. She passed them to Elizabeth, who dropped them over the side. The last to go were their pistols.
They went up to the bridge to watch the Cuban vessel approach. The patrol boat was almost 200 feet long, gray and lethal. It bristled with weapons. There were deck guns fore and aft and antisubmarine missile launchers. The rail was lined with sailors armed with AK-47 carbines. As the vessel closed on them, an officer raised a bullhorn and shouted something.
"What did he say?" Nick turned to Selena. Selena spoke fluent Spanish.
"Classic," she said. "Heave to and prepare to be boarded."
"They got cutlasses, too?" Ronnie said.
Nick looked at him and shook his head. "Cut the engines," he said.
Ronnie throttled back to an idle. The Island Angel rode uneasily in the water, rocking in the waves.
"Selena," Nick said. "You do all the talking. See if you can talk us out of here."
She took a deep breath and went down to the main deck. A motor launch with six sailors and the officer put off from the patrol boat and came alongside. They scrambled on board, weapons at the ready. They didn't look friendly. Two of the sailors disappeared into the main cabin.
Nick watched from the bridge as Selena began speaking with the officer. It seemed to be going well. Then the Cuban began shouting at her. She backed up a step. Nick started down the steps toward them. The officer gave an order and the guns pointed toward him. The man said something. Nick didn't need to speak Spanish to know that he was being told to put his hands up.
"Selena," he said as he raised his hands. "What's happening?"
One of the sailors grasped Nick by the arm and pulled him off the steps. Another sailor went up to the bridge and prodded Ronnie and Elizabeth down with the barrel of his rifle. A sailor came out of the main cabin and said something to the officer. He had their passports in his hand.
The officer looked at the documents and then at Nick.
"Ustedes son espías norteamericanos. Si se resisten, se le disparó."
"What did he say?" Ronnie asked.
"He said we are American spies," Selena said. "If we resist, he'll shoot us. I think he means it."
"Yanquis!" the officer said with contempt. He spat on the deck. "En el barco." He gestured at the motor launch.
"Into the boat," Selena said.
"What about Lamont?"
Selena fired off some rapid Spanish. The officer replied and gestured again.
"He says they will bring him aboard. Now, we must get in the boat."
"I'm not going without Lamont. Tell him that."
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," she said.
"Tell him anyway."
The officer was watching the exchange. Selena told him what Nick had said. His face got red and he shouted at one of the sailors. The man brought up the butt of his rifle and slammed Nick on the side of the head. Everything went dark.
The first thing Nick was aware of when he woke was pain. He was lying on something hard and cold. The floor vibrated under him. He opened his eyes and light speared his brain like a dagger. He drifted back into unconsciousness.
The next time he woke, Ronnie was sitting next to him. He could hear Lamont coughing.
"Welcome back, amigo," Ronnie said. "You had a nice nap."
"Yeah." Nick sat up. The room spun around him. There was a metal toilet bolted to the wall. He managed to reach it before he threw up. He retched and threw up again. He choked down the bile and caught his breath and waited for the dizziness to pass. He had the mother of all headaches. He wiped his sleeve across his lips.
"Take it easy," Ronnie said. "You took a hell of a hit. Probably got a concussion."
Nick leaned back against the wall next to the toilet "How long was I out?"
"Maybe an hour."
He looked around. The front of the cell was metal bars. The rest of the room was metal, painted flaking gray. There were no windows. A bare metal cot was bolted to the wall. Lamont lay on it, delirious.
Ronnie nodded at him. "He's not doing so good."
"Where are we?"
"They took us on board and threw us in the brig." That explained the vibration in the floor.
"Where are the others?"
"Selena and Elizabeth are next to us in another cell."
"We're screwed," Nick said.
"Yeah," Ronnie said, "my thoughts exactly."
CHAPTER 46
It was going on dark by the time the boat stopped moving and the engines shut down. The Cubans brought them up to the deck. The patrol boat had docked at the waterfront of a good-sized city spread out along a broad bay. An ancient fortress of stone dominated the harbor from a high bluff. The salt air smelled of fish and diesel and wood smoke from a cooking fire. It was like being thrust into the middle of a picture postcard. It was pretty but Nick could have done without it.
Guards marched them off the boat and shoved them sprawling into a windowless van that smelled of vomit. Someone slammed the door of the van and locked it. Lamont lay on the floor of the truck, mumbling to himself. Elizabeth and Selena sat next to him.
The van began to move. Selena laid a hand on Lamont's forehead. "He's burning up," she said.
"He dies, I'm going to make someone pay for it," Nick said.
"Where are we?" Ronnie said.
"All I know is that it isn't Havana."
"It's Santiago de Cuba," Selena said. "That's the only other big city in Cuba. The fortress is a famous historical site."
"Wherever they're taking us, we're going to be interrogated," Nick said. The words came out slurred. One side of his face was swollen from the hit he'd taken on the Island Angel.
"We can't tell them who we are," Elizabeth said.
"They'll know who we are. They'll recognize me," Nick said.
He was right. After the incident with the President in Jerusalem, every intelligence agency in the world had his photograph. There were few places he could go without being recognized if any of them were looking.
"They might not," Elizabeth said. "It depends on who's in charge. But if it's the SDE, we're in trouble,"
"SDE?" Selena said.
"Seguridad del Estado, state security," Nick said. "Castro's secret police. They're bad people. The officer on that boat called us spies. We can count on SDE being in charge. They hate Americans."
"This isn't the Cold War anymore," Selena said. "It's a long time since the Bay of Pigs."
"Castro's revolutionary government has a long memory," Nick said. "The whole country is a throwback to the Cold War. Lots of things have gone wrong here and they blame us for all of it. We have to be prepared for anything."
The van came to a sudden stop. They heard doors slam. Then the back door was pulled open.
"Afuera!" a soldier yelled at them.
They started to get out. Rough hands grabbed them and pulled them from the van, threw them down on a cobbled street and tied their hands behind their backs with plastic ties. The ties cut into Nick's wrists. He was hauled to his feet and frog marched at a quick pace toward a grim stone building with barred windows and through a door held open by an unsmiling soldier.