Hawke

Hawke smiled as the butler withdrew, pulling the double doors closed, and said, “At any rate, I know it’s preposterous, but I think it’s possible that bomb was meant for Vicky.”

“Oh, Alex, get serious. Why in hell would anyone—”

“The bloody Cubans, perhaps. After all, that submarine was purchased by this Telaraсa bunch. Could be trying to scare me away.”

“Alex, if they really wanted to, why not just kill you?”

“Too much bad publicity? I don’t know. Look, I’ll be honest. I gave those Russians a fairly rough go of it. Forced them to divulge who bought the Borzoi. They were terrified of the possible repercussions. In order to cover themselves, they’d go straight to the Cubans and tell them about my keen interest in their activities. So, I expect the new Cuban government aren’t exactly happy with me at the moment.”

“Big-time CYA.”

“Sorry?”

“Cover Your Ass. Your Russian friends are covering theirs with the Cubans,” Conch said. “That’s precisely what your little arms-dealing buddies would do. Go to the Cubans, tell their sob story, blame everything on you. Cuban Secret Service does a little backtracking and ends up in Kuwait City, where the first deal fell apart. CIA just received word that your friend Cap Adams just turned up dead. Sorry.”

“What?”

“London Metro Police found him last night in his apartment in St. John’s Wood. No apparent cause of death. Pathologists using an electron microscope detected a minute pellet of Ricin in his thigh muscle.”

“Ricin?”

“Toxic albumin found in castor beans. Remember the famous ‘Umbrella Murder’? A KGB thug with a trick umbrella assassinated an inconvenient Bulgarian named Marlgov on the Waterloo Bridge way back in ’78. Ancient history to us, but apparently not to the Cubans. Kudos to your British forensic boys for getting to the bottom of this one so quickly.”

“Kudos all around. Hope someone gets word of their brilliant success to Cap’s wife, A

“Stick with Vicky a moment, Alex. What makes you think Vicky might be the target?”

“She was called to the phone by the waiter just minutes before the explosion. When she got to the booth, there was no one on the line. Just breathing. There was a black briefcase on the floor. Thinking someone had simply forgotten it, she gave it to the waiter on her way back to the table.”

“And it exploded in his hands minutes later,” the secretary said, shaking her head. “I’ll get this info to the lead team right away.”

“Thanks.”

“Alex, the reason the president asked me to stop by this morning is Cuba. What we don’t need at State right now is another hotspot right on our doorstep. That island is coming to a fast boil. I’m going to need a little help with this one.”

“Whatever I can do. Tell me.”

“As I told you, rumors of a coup have been circulating for a while. Now, a televised speech Fidel was scheduled to make last evening was canceled at the last minute. It’s not at all like him. I’ve got a shitload of HUMINT pouring in through our Cuban desk at the Swiss embassy in Havana.”

“HUMINT?”

“Sorry. Human intelligence. State Department speak for spies. I try like hell not to talk like that, but sometimes …”

“Castro’s had a rough go of it with Parkinson’s, you know. Relapse?”

“Possible. But we know he’d had a major recovery after the pope’s last visit. We get weekly medical reports on him from a doctor on our payroll. He’s down, but he’s not out by a long shot. Tough old bird. And every male in his family lives to be at least a hundred.”

“So. What’s next?”

“I’m going from here right back to the White House. We’ve had contingency pla

“Any news on the submarine front?”

“You bet. Here, look at these,” de los Reyes said, and handed Hawke a bright red folder full of black-and-white photographs.

“Where were these taken?” Hawke asked, flipping through the pictures.

“Predator spy photos, taken yesterday. About an hour after you identified the purchaser as Telaraсa, we got a Predator in the air out of Gitmo. Look. There’s the southeast coast of Cuba. That’s the town of Manzanillo. On Guacanayabo Bay. There’s Telaraсa, that small island off the coast, do you see it?”

“Yes,” Hawke said, rising and taking the pictures to the window where the light was stronger. “A lot of construction. Looks like barracks, warehouses. And, here, mobile scud launchers.”

“Yes. We think they’re recently purchased massive numbers of Russian scuds. There’s also a large white structure at the mouth of the river, do you see that?”

“Yes, it looks huge. What is it?”

“Navy at the Pentagon says it’s some kind of amphitheater. I think it’s a submarine pen disguised to look like a public building. Certainly wide enough for the beam of a Boomerang. We really don’t know, Alex,” the secretary said.

“The plot, as they say, sickens. The new Cuba—a dog or a rat in every pot and a half-billion-dollar invisible nuclear submarine in every garage.”

“Alex?” Something in her tone had changed.

“Yes?” He looked into her incredibly beautiful brown eyes for an extra second and then turned back to the window.

“Look at me.”

“Bad idea.”

“Turn around and look at me.”

“Terrible idea, Conch.”

As a charter member of the bad idea club, he knew one when he saw one coming. And his intense desire to unbutton that tight pink sweater was definitely not a good idea. He didn’t need this now. Especially now, in fact. He was in love. And the woman he loved was lying in the hospital. Christ.

“I can’t do it, Conch. I won’t do it,” he said. He heard a rustle of papers and folders being gathered up behind him. When he turned around, she was headed for the door.

“Conch?”

She paused and turned to look at him. The expression on her face was all business.

“The president has asked me to form an emergency task force to deal with this,” she said. “I’ve asked the two men you met in my office to head it up. He sent me here to ask you to be part of the team.”

“Consuelo, you know I’m always at your disposal. But if you look carefully at my rйsumй, you’ll see the telltale notation, ‘Doesn’t work well with others.’ ”

“I expected that. But this is obviously a matter of enormous consequence to the president. We simply ca

“He was kind enough to call.”

“You found out who bought it. Now all we’ve got to do is find and neutralize the sonofabitch. I promised him I’d secure your help. See it through to the end.”

“Really? That’s a fairly staggering thing for you to do, Conch.”

“Isn’t it? I take so much for granted. I just never learn.”

“Conch, listen. I was a sorry little shit, dreadful. Forgive me one day?”

“Yeah, well, I hated the way we ended. You caught me looking, I’ll give you that much. No warning signs. Nothing. It really hurt, okay? I felt like you never even gave me a chance. Gave us a chance.”

“Yes. Well, if you really think about it, we never—”

“Please shut up, Hawke. You’re really crappy at this kind of stuff.”

Alex had no reply for that.

“What’s your schedule look like?” she asked, all business once more.

“I’m headed right back down to the Exumas. Vicky’s had a mild concussion and could use a couple of weeks away from her office anyway. I’m taking her to the islands for two weeks aboard Blackhawke.”

“Lucky girl.”

“I’m flying down this afternoon. When I get there, I’m your man. Whatever I can do. Just don’t drag me into another one of those bloody task force meetings.”