The Cuban Affair

by Nelson DeMille

Or… I could listen to what Carlos and his amigos had to say. As I used to say to my men, you gotta die someplace. And Cuba was as good a place to die as Afghanistan.

And maybe that was better than wasting away here in Margaritaville, or on Wall Street, or in Portland. Lots of options. None of them good. Except maybe the Cuba option. Maybe this was my lucky day. Maybe not.

Very matter of fact attitude

Sara interjected, “All we want is justice. The return of our property, and the right to return to Cuba.

We seek the establishment of human rights, and the freedoms we have here.” That should be easy after Eduardo shoots all the Commies.

Sums it up

That answered the question of why I never heard I was in the tournament. I was feeling like a rock star with a conniving manager who was booking me on a tour that I didn’t know about—and didn’t want to go on.

What is Mac getting involved with?

“We’re not thieves. We’re repatriating money that rich Cubans stole from poor Cubans so it can be returned to the rich Cubans who stole it.”

Good summary of the enterprise.

Sara and I could, of course, carry SATphones, but according to Carlos, that was a very big red flag for the Cuban authorities, and if you got stopped, you might as well be carrying a CIA ID card.

Nice one!

Our Cuban guide would join us at the welcome dinner at our hotel and answer any questions we might have about Cuba. Question number one: How do we get to Paris from here?

Typical of the author's sense of humor

Regarding Sara, empathy is not one of my strong points, but I thought about the risks she was taking. She had much stronger motivations for being here than I did, but that didn’t diminish her courage.

In fact, to be less empathetic, her motivations could lead her into some risk-taking that I wouldn’t approve of. Beware of people who are ready to die for a cause—especially if they’re your team leader.

Mac's philosophy on life.

“Right. That’s four thousand pounds of steamer trunks.”

Perhaps Mac should have done the math and logistics before he left Miami.

“There is a very prophetic line in the book… written before the revolution.” He quoted without notes, “ ‘The Cubans double-cross each other. They sell each other out. They got what they deserve. The hell with their revolutions.’ ” He said, “I will see you at dinner,” and left. What the hell was that all about?

Antonio being cryptic

“Well… sometimes they get lucky.” She thought a moment and said, “Maybe the money is not worth our lives—”

Sara is getting cold feet

She nodded.

Sara is always giving into Mac

He also explained to me, “Almost all Cubans believed that the Castro regime would not last more than a year. That the Americans would not allow a Communist country to exist off its shores.” Why not? We’ve got California and Vermont.

Asshole comment

I looked at Sara again. Apparently Eduardo’s arguments for scrubbing the mission were more convincing than the ones I or she had already discussed. Though they were the same arguments. But, to be fair, the situation had changed. In fact, Eduardo said, “We cannot risk losing these documents on a dangerous journey to the cave.” “All right… but I just lost three million dollars.” “You will be compensated.” “How?” “The fifty thousand dollars you were promised if the mission was aborted. And the title to your half-million-dollar boat, free and clear.”

Mac is remarkably calm about losing 3M bucks

drove on, thinking about my three million dollars, which had suddenly reappeared. If we could get to Camagüey Province without getting caught, we could steal a truck, ditch this Buick, find the cave, and drive to Cayo Guillermo with twelve steamer trunks stuffed with cash, then meet our contact tomorrow night, if in fact he or she was at the Melia Hotel every night at 7, as instructed.

This could be doable. “How far is it to Camagüey Province?”

Mac might get his money after all

“Mac, if you can’t get past a toll booth, we should turn around.” I didn’t know architects could be so cool and calm. But then I remembered she’d been briefed—or trained—by a retired CIA guy… or maybe not retired.

Sara super cool

It occurred to me, again, that too much of this mission relied too heavily on a series of events over which we had little or no control. I would have liked a plan that didn’t depend so much on vaya con Dios.

Mac's cynicism again

I looked at her and saw she was upset. I assured her, “When we meet Felipe, I will act as though nothing has happened between us.” I saw Casablanca six times.

Ok so Felipe is Sara's fiance

And why, I wondered, did no one tell me that Sara and Felipe were an item? Maybe Sara was supposed to tell me. And if not her, why not Carlos or Eduardo? Well, maybe because they really wanted me to come onboard, to use a nautical term, and Sara Ortega was one of many shiny lures.

Sara, though, did say she had a boyfriend. She just couldn’t remember his name.

Good questio n

Jack and I were about to tip the trunk over the side when we both heard a familiar sound and looked out at the horizon. Coming toward us from the north, a few hundred feet away, and not fifty feet above the water, were two huge helicopters. I recognized their profiles as Black Hawks. They tipped their rotor blades, then turned east toward the Stenka.

Mac's lucky escape