Cyclops (Dirk Pitt 8)

You tell me how they suddenly crawled in bed with the President of the United States without your agents becoming aware of it."

Polevoi had unwittingly dug himself into a hole and now he shrewdly climbed out of it by switching the course of the briefing. "Operation Rum and Cola is still in progress. We may have been cheated out of the space shuttle and a rich source of scientific data, but it is an acceptable loss compared to gaining total mastery of Cuba."

Antonov considered Polevoi's words, and swallowed the bait. "I have my doubts. Without Velikov to direct the operation its chances for success are cut in half."

"The general is no longer crucial to Rum and Cola. The plan is ninety percent complete. The ships will enter Havana Harbor tomorrow evening, and Castro's speech is set for the following morning. General Velikov performed admirably in laying the groundwork. Rumors of a new CIA plot to assassinate Castro have already been spread throughout the Western world, and we have prepared evidence showing American involvement. All that's left to do is push a button."

"Our people in Havana and Santiago are alerted?"

"They're prepared to move in and form a new government as soon as the assassination is confirmed."

"And the next leader?"

"Alicia Cordero."

Antonov's mouth hung half open. "A woman, you're telling me? We're naming a woman to rule Cuba after Fidel Castro's death?"

"The perfect choice," said Polevoi firmly. "She is secretary of the Central Committee and secretary of the Council of State. Most important, she is a close confidante of Fidel and is idolized by the people for the success of her family economic programs and fiery oratory. She has a charm and charisma that matches Fidel's. Her loyalty to the Soviet Union is unquestionable, and she will have the total backing of the Cuban military."

"Who work for us."

"Who belong to us," Polevoi corrected.

"So we are committed."

"Yes, Comrade President."

"And then?" Antonov prompted.

"Nicaragua, Peru, Chile, and yes, Argentina," said Polevoi, warming to his subject. "No more messy revolutions, no more bloody guerrilla movements. We infiltrate their governments and subtly erode from within, careful to arouse no hostility from the United States. When they finally wake up it will be too late.

South and Central America will be solid extensions of the Soviet Union."

"And not the party?" Antonov asked reproachfully. "Are you forgetting the glory of our Communist heritage, Polevoi?"

"The party is the base to build upon. But we cannot continue to be chained to an archaic Marxist philosophy that has taken a hundred years to prove unworkable. The twenty-first century is only a decade away. The day of cold realism is now. I quote you, Comrade President, when you said, Ì

envision a new era of socialism that will wipe the hated scourge of capitalism from the earth.' Cuba is the first step in fulfilling your dream of a world society dominated by the Kremlin."

"And Fidel Castro is the barrier in our path."

"Yes," said Polevoi with a sinister smile. "But only for another forty-eight hours."

Air Force One lifted off from Andrews Air Force Base and turned south over the historic hills of Virginia. The early morning sky was clear and blue with only a few scattered thunderclouds. The Air Force colonel, who had piloted the Boeing jet under three Presidents, leveled off at 34,000 feet and gave the arrival time at Cape Canaveral over the cabin intercom.

"Breakfast, gentlemen?" asked the President, motioning toward a small dining compartment recently modified into the plane. His wife had hung a Tiffany lampshade over an art deco table, lending an informal, relaxed atmosphere. "Our galley can provide champagne if anyone wishes to celebrate."

"I wouldn't mind a hot cup of black coffee," said Martin Brogan. He sat down and removed a file from his briefcase before sliding it under the table.

Dan Fawcett pulled up a chair beside him, while Douglas Oates sat opposite, next to the President. A white-coated Air Force sergeant served guava juice, the President's favorite, and coffee. Each man gave his order and relaxed, waiting for the President to launch the con

versation.

"Well," he said, smiling, "we've got a lot to get through before we land at the Cape and congratulate everyone. So let's get started. Dan, fill us in on the status of the Gettysburg and the moon colonists."

"I've been on the phone all morning with NASA officials," said Fawcett, excitement evident in his tone.

"As we all know, Dave Jurgens put the spacecraft down in Key West by the skin of his teeth. A remarkable job of flying. The naval air station has been closed to all air and car traffic. The gates and fences are under heavy Marine guard. The President has ordered a temporary news blackout on the situation until he can announce the existence of our new moon base."