Havana Storm (Dirk Pitt 23)

“Perhaps he is right.”

“What next, Mr. President?”

Castro stared out the open door for several moments. “I believe my next order of business is to pay a visit to the harbor docks.”

79

The morning sun washed over the Gold Digger and the Sargasso Sea as they sat moored bow to stern at the Port of Havana’s Terminal Sierra Maestra. Shortly after the Starfish was recovered, a Cuban Navy corvette had joined the two vessels to assist with the rescue efforts. The corvette then acted as a voluntary escort for the ships’ passage to Havana. Military ambulances were waiting on the docks and took the Sea Raker’s survivors to an Army hospital under tight security.

Pitt and Gunn stood conversing on the bridge, upwind of Giordino with a freshly lit Ramón Allones he held tightly in his teeth. A crewman entered with a befuddled look. “Sir, you have a visitor,” he said to Pitt, then stood aside.

Raúl Castro, joined by an aide, walked in without pretense and introduced himself. The startled Americans stepped forward and shook hands, welcoming the Cuban president aboard.

“I’m told you uncovered an unauthorized uranium mining operation in my country and also prevented a great environmental catastrophe,” Castro said.

Pitt nodded. “I’m glad to hear the mining operation was not of your doing. Unfortunately, several lives were lost, and a rather expensive mining ship was sunk, which may accrue to your government.”

Castro shrugged off the liability. “My brother and I used to fish the waters off of Havana and Matanzas. It would hurt me to see harm done to the sea. The thermal vents there are now safe?”

“Yes, though there are still explosives in place at one site that will have to be removed.”

“What about these mercury releases?” Castro asked.

“That is still a problem,” Gunn said. “Both here and to the south of Cuba, there are active toxic plumes.”

“We may have a solution,” Pitt said. “Mark Ramsey believes he can convert one of his underwater mining machines into a type of b

ulldozer. The machine could fill in a large portion of the currently exposed vents with sediment from the seafloor. This would minimize, if not altogether extinguish, the release of mercury.”

“My government stands ready to assist in any way we can.”

“Thank you, Mr. President,” Gunn said.

Castro turned to Pitt. “My brother once mentioned your name. You helped save Havana from ruin at one time.”

“It was many years ago,” Pitt said.

“You are a true friend of Cuba.” Castro eyed the box of cigars Giordino had brought to the bridge. “I see you have already partaken in our fine tobacco. Is there anything else I can offer you in appreciation?”

“Mr. President, there is a Spanish shipwreck off of Punta Maisí that we would like to explore. It may be carrying a Mesoamerican artifact that Juan Díaz was pursuing.”

“I’ve been told that Díaz kept a warehouse filled with antiquities, which shall now be turned over to our National Museum of Natural History. You have my permission to explore the wreck, but I’d ask that any artifacts you recover be provided to the museum.”

“Of course.”

Castro turned to leave and Pitt escorted him to the bridge wing. The morning light cast the buildings of old Havana in a swath of gold. Castro waved his arm toward the city.

“This is a very special place. I can tell you, the people of Havana and all of Cuba are grateful for the harm you prevented. It is, I suspect, more than you know.”

“The people of Cuba are worthy of good things,” Pitt said. He observed Castro take in the beauty of the old city and a thought occurred to him.

“Mr. President, there’s nothing more you can do for me, but there is something you could do for Cuba.”

Castro looked at Pitt and nodded. “For Cuba, anything.”

80

That was the target. Algonquin. Haasis wasn’t keen on shooting an unarmed merchant ship, but those were his orders. A single torpedo was to be fired to sink her. Pacific Fleet Command wanted it to look like an accident—to the extent that torpedoing a ship could be so disguised. Fat chance, Haasis thought. But at least in the middle of the Pacific, it would take a significant effort on somebody’s part to prove the truth.