Golden Buddha

He hurried down the corridor to a far door and entered a control room perched high inside a vast cavern in the hull amidships. The three-deck-high moon pool, as it was called, was where all the Oregon’s underwater equipment was stored—diving gear; submersibles, ma

The remarkable ship was not what she appeared from her exterior. The outer decks and hull were disguised to make her look like a rust bucket. The wheelhouse and the unused officers’ and crew’s quarters below were also kept in a slovenly condition to avoid suspicion from visiting port officials or harbor pilots.

Cabrillo entered the underwater operations room and stood before a large table showing three-dimensional holographic images of every street in the city of Santiago. Linda Ross, the Oregon’s security and surveillance analyst, was standing at the table lecturing a group of people dressed in Cuban military fatigue uniforms. Linda had been a lieutenant commander in the navy when Cabrillo had sweet-talked her into resigning and joining the Oregon. In the navy she had been an intelligence officer on board an Aegis guided-missile cruiser before spending four years in Washington in the navy’s intelligence department.

Linda glanced sideways at Cabrillo as he stood quietly without interrupting. She was an attractive woman, not a head turner, but most men still considered her pretty. She kept her five-foot-eight-inch, 130-pound body in firm shape with exercise, but rarely spent extra time on makeup or hairstyle. She was one smart lady, soft-spoken and greatly admired by the entire Oregoncrew.

The five men and one woman standing around the detailed 3-D image of the city listened intently as Linda ran through the last-minute instructions, using a small metal rod with a light on the end to point out their objective. “The fortress of Santa Ursula. It was built during the Spanish-American War, and after the turn of the twentieth century it was used as a warehouse until Castro and his revolutionaries took over the country. Then it was turned into a prison.”

“What is the exact distance from our landing to the prison?” asked Eddie Seng, the Oregon’s master of subterfuge and director of shore operations.

“Two hundred yards less than a mile,” answered Linda.

Seng folded his arms and looked thoughtful. “We’ll be able to fool the locals with our uniforms going in, but if we have to fight our way back a mile to the docks while herding eighteen prisoners, I can’t guarantee we’ll make it.”

“Certainly not in the condition those poor people are going to be in,” said Julia Huxley, the Oregon’s medical officer. She was going along on the raid to care for the prisoners. A short woman, large bosomed with a body suited for wrestling, Julia was the congeniality lady of the ship. She’d served as a chief medical officer for four years at the San Diego Naval Base and was well respected by them all.

“Our agents in the city have arranged for a truck to be stolen twenty minutes before you leave the prison. It’s used for hauling food supplies to the hotels. The truck and a driver will be parked one block from the workers’ maintenance shack situated on the wharf above your landing dock. He’ll drive you to the prison, wait, and return you to the dock. From there he’ll ditch the truck and ride home on his bicycle.”

“Does he have a name? Is there a password?”

Linda smiled slightly. “The password is dos.”

Seng looked skeptical. “Two? That’s it?”

“Yes, he’ll reply with uno, one. It’s that simple.”

“Well, at least it’s concise.”

Linda paused to flick a series of switches on a small remote control. The images of the city dissolved into a 3-D interior diorama of Santa Ursula Prison without its roof, revealing the i

“How so?” asked one of Seng’s team members.

“We’re told the harbor defense systems are run through an operational test every night at twelve. We’ve got to be well on our way to sea before then.”

“Why not wait and go in after midnight, when most of the town is asleep?” asked a member of the landing force. “At ten o’clock, the local citizens will still be stirring around.”

“You’ll cause less suspicion if you don’t sneak around the streets before dawn,” she replied. “Also, the other eight guards are usually out on the town in the local bars until early morning.”

“You’re sure about that?” asked Seng.

Linda nodded. “Their movements have been watched and clocked for two weeks by our agents in the city.”

“Unless Murphy’s Law rears its ugly head,” said Cabrillo, “the release of the prisoners and the escape should go smoothly. The tough part comes when you’re all on board and we have to sail out of the harbor. The minute Castro’s harbor security forces see us pull up the anchor and turn down the cha

Linda looked at Cabrillo. “We have the weaponry to knock them out.”

“True,” Cabrillo acknowledged. “But we ca

“None of us has been told,” said Seng, “who exactly are we breaking out of jail. They must be important or we wouldn’t have contracted for the job.”

Cabrillo looked at him. “We wanted to keep it under wraps until we got here. They’re Cuban doctors, journalists and businessmen who opposed Castro’s government, all highly respected men and women. Castro knows they are dangerous if they are free. If they reach the Cuban community in Miami, they can use it as a base to instigate a revolutionary movement.”

“Is it a good contract?”

“Ten million dollars if we deliver them to U.S. soil.”

Seng and the others around the holographic display smiled. “That should add a tidy little amount to everyone’s nest egg,” he said.

“Doing good for profit,” Cabrillo said with a wide grin. “That’s our motto.”

AT precisely 8:30, Seng and his small force boarded the Nomad 1000 along with the two crewmen who would pilot the sub and guard it during the operation. The sub looked more like a luxury surface yacht than a submersible. Capable of ru

The entry door was closed and sealed, and the craft, secured by a large sling, was lifted by a crane into the center of the moon pool. The operator looked into the control room and was given the descent signal by Cabrillo. Then, slowly, the large craft was lowered into the black water. As soon as she settled, divers removed the sling and were carried upward to the surrounding balcony by the crane.