Shadow over the Caribbean

Shadow

over

the

Caribbean

A NOVEL

Writers Club Press

San Jose New York Lincoln Shanghai

Shadow over the Caribbean

All Rights Reserved © 2000 by William R. Stegall

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in

any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical,

including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information

storage retrieval system, without the permission

in writing from the publisher.

Writers Club Press

an imprint of iUniverse.com, Inc.

For information address:

iUniverse.com, Inc.

620 North 48th Street, Suite 201

Lincoln, NE 68504-3467

www.iuniverse.com

ISBN: 0-595-13302-9

ISBN: 978-1-4697-1370-0 (eBook)

For my children: Kimberly, Bill, Andrea, Kelley, my stepchildren, John and Kimberly and in memory of daughter Michele

And

To my loving wife and best friend, Constance, with My thanks for all those long hours of proofing and editing this book.

This book is dedicated to all those Warriors I was associated with in those turbulent years of the early Sixties.

It was an honorable profession we were part of-we won many battles. While history may show we lost the war-we did make the effort. I salute all of you!

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Epilogue

Prologue

The full power of the approaching hurricane hadn’t reached hurricane force, but the storm surge had already started making it’s presence felt. The waves were cresting over the bow of the rubber assault boats. It was hard to keep the boat from spinning around as it was being tossed up and down by winds and the pounding waves. The Cuban team were trying their utmost to keep the boat empty of seawater as it slowly moved toward the distant shore.

One of the younger soldiers became violently seasick. He leaned over the side and began to spew into the wind. His mates tried their best to keep out of his way.

The Cuban Sergeant couldn’t remember being as afraid as he was right now, even when he was fighting the black savages in Angola. He had watched them slash open the chest of other tribal soldiers and rip out their hearts in battle. There, at least, he had the other Cuban soldiers around him for protection. Here in this small rubber boat, there was only the four of them.

The water was coming up over and into the boat faster then they could bail. The boat had a protective rubber covering, which should have helped to keep most of the water out, but the storm was bigger than them.

The boat was moving slowly toward shore, but at times, the boat was riding on top of a high wave. The shaft of the engine was completely out of water, and the propeller was just turning in air. It was dropping them at times further from shore. There was one man bailing as the water accumulated in the bottom of the boat. Another man was holding onto the waterproof poncho wrapped around their weapons.

It would be a real bitch to return to the mother ship, if they could at all.

Private, is the radio package still wrapped tightly, he asked one of the team.

Si, I sealed the whole package with that waterproof tape the Teniente gave me. It will keep dry. Sergeant, how are we going to get back out to the ship later? The Sergeant didn’t have a good answer for the boy.

Soldier, don’t you worry about things that you have no control over. The Lieutenant will get us back, never you mind. We will just do the job we were given, and worry about the rest of it when we should be worried. Now, you just protect that radio. I’ll have your ass if it gets wet, or goes overboard.

As they approached the dock, the winds were blowing them away from the docking area ahead. The Sergeant estimated they should hit shore in another two minutes. He was concerned that they would be quite a distance from the compound where they were to meet the other Cubans.

The Sergeant could hear the engine struggling to keep running. He was thinking maybe the water might be getting into the waterproof head casing. If the spark plug got really wet, the son of a bitch would cut off, leaving them off the shoreline. God, he thought, with no engine, they could easily be swamped in this shit.

A huge wave was approaching them from their rear. He quickly yelled at the men to hold on tightly, as the wave vehemently smashed, covering everything with water.

The thrust of the wave threw the boy with the radio off the boat, screaming for help. One of the other men tried to throw him a line, but he was now too far away from the boat to grab him.

Some months earlier

Chapter 1

Monique was feeling the heat of the day on the quiet island of Aruba and was lying nude on her towel beside her pool. Her courtyard home had a ten-foot high concrete fence that surrounded her swimming pool allowing her privacy from her neighbors and any prying eyes.

Monique’s body was firm and evenly tanned. There was a warm, sensuous glow running around her body; she appeared to be in deep thought.

She rolled over on her back, and began to gently stroke her body, rubbing her hands gently on the top of her body down to her waist and hips and around her genital area. She was thinking about Johan and her intimate interlude she had the evening before and early this morning.

God, Johan spent a small fortune on the two of them at the casino over at the Golden Tulip last night. She was beginning to experience the excitement all over again, as she explored her body, drifting into an almost dream like trance.

Well, Monique, I’m glad that you are still able to entertain yourself without it costing me or my Government a small fortune. Do you need my help?

Monique was startled as she sat up while trying to cover her self. She saw Ramon standing across the courtyard by the sliding entry door into her house. You son of a bitch, what are you doing in my house, and how did you get in? She reached for her towel and wrapped it around her body as she got up.

Monique, Monique! Don’t be so modest. After all, I know every inch of that lovely body of yours by now. You know how I got in the house! Have you forgotten I changed all the locks on your house two years ago when we first reached our little agreement?

Ramon slid the door closed and walked out into the courtyard to where Monique was standing; she was starring at him. He grabbed her towel and yanked it from her body, put his arms around her and pulled her body to him and kissed her sensuous lips.

Ramon knew Monique well. He knew just what it would take for Monique to be aroused and submit to his passion. He began to caress her and brought her body closer. His hands were slowing moving down her back and Ramon held her buttocks in his hands.

Slowly, Monique’s lips parted and began to kiss Ramon back. Monique reached down to undo his pants. The kisses became more passionate, as Ramon picked her up and carried her over to a lounge chair and laid Monique down. She motioned for him to enter her. He hammered at her body as she started scratching his back, pulling him into her.

Oh yes, he knew Monique Von Steuben. He recruited her for the Cuban Intelligence Service over two years ago. Ramon thought of her as just another job he was required to service as a directive from Havana Central. Oh, he enjoyed some of the work, such as bringing this bitch underneath him right now back to the reality of who owned her, body and soul. The moment of high passion was over. They had a lot of talking to do before Ramon caught the next plane back to Caracas, and then onward to Panama.

Ramon, what are you doing here? I don’t like surprises, and I’m not at all sure it is safe for you to be in my house. Aruba is a small fishbowl, and people talk. Monique was drying off her sweaty body as Ramon put his clothes on and lit a cigarette.

It’s important, or I would not be here. Believe it or not, I do have more important things to do than just travel over here to help a horny woman get her high on. I would have thought that old man you took to the cleaners last night would have been enough for you. Talk about a fishbowl, you really need to be more cautious on how you pick out your lovers, my dear. The Center would not be thrilled with your calling attention to yourself, not after all the money they have invested in you over the last two years. You belong to us, and I don’t recommend you forget that. Center asked me to remind you that we do keep a watchful eye on your daughter in Amsterdam. Have you got something cold to drink inside?

Monique finished slipping into a short dress and reached for a cigarette lying on the table, lighting it with a gold Dunhill lighter that was a gift from a long ago lover. She took a long drag and slowly exhaled the smoke through her nose as she stared at Ramon.

If you know how to get into my house, I’m sure you know where the goddamn refrigerator is, don’t you Ramon?

He hit her in the stomach quickly and expertly. There would be no bruise marks showing.

Monique, I asked for something cold to drink. Go and get it now before I loose my temper. Next time I might mark your face up just enough where you might not be able to attract rich old men in the future. Do you understand me, Monique?

Ramon continued to smoke his cigarette, wondering if Monique was really the one for the operation that he was instructed to initiate. He was given a directive over a week ago to recruit Monique.

Fuck off, Ramon. I’ll get your drink. I don’t want you tiring yourself out beating up on women and maybe, children?

She walked into her house rubbing her stomach. He stubbed out the cigarette and was thinking about the directive from Havana Central. They were very explicit in telling him to activate Monique for the operation. He sent back a quick message to Havana trying to obtain approval to use a different agent than Monique Von Steuben.

He never completely trusted her, convinced all she was interested in was money and her own carnal pleasures. Central came back, agreeing with his perceptions of Von Steuben, but insisted that she must be used for the operation. Central pointed out to Ramon that they had enough control over Monique; her love for her daughter and her love of money to feel confident that she would cooperate.

So, Ramon put together the operation plan up through the time Monique would make the initial contact with a man in Miami. That was all of the operational plans that Central revealed to him.

He was to activate Monique and detail out the plans to have her travel to Miami, Florida the following week. She was to make a casual introduction to a man who would be checking into the Sheraton Royal Biscayne Resort Hotel on the small off-shore island of Key Biscayne. Ramon knew Key Biscayne well through his many visits to Miami.

Monique came out into the courtyard with a small bucket of ice, some glasses and a bottle of cola. She regained her composure and poured a glass of cola for Ramon. She really was an attractive woman, Ramon thought. It was really too bad she had the morals of an alley cat. Oh well, his line of work made strange bed follows. He took a swallow of the soft drink.

Monique, Havana has directed that you be given a job. The money you will be making will help start repaying some of the debt you owe. This might take some time to brief you on, but start remembering the name ‘Briggs Chester’. I don’t know much detail yet or what this job is going to lead to, but you will have to travel to Miami next week where you will need to accidentally meet this ‘Briggs Chester’.

Ramon took a drink of his cola, thinking this must really be a sensitive operation if Havana decided not to tell him any more than they had. He knew, somehow, this operation was going to be involving drugs.

Back in Mexico City a paid informant told him that a man named Briggs Chester was a wealthy drug dealer looking for a major buy. He passed this information to Havana Central in a long coded diplomatic message. Ramon did not tell Monique any of this. He thought if he hurried, he could make the early evening commuter flight back to Caracas today. He had a lot to do.

Chapter 2

Monique was lying face down on her beach towel, having come onto the sand over an hour before. Briggs did not see her face, but he thought she had to have a pretty face to complement that beautiful body. She was wearing thong swimwear, which didn’t leave much to the imagination. This black hair beauty had all the things that made the suit look great.

It was a week since Briggs arrived in Key Biscayne. He was sitting on the hotel balcony overlooking the Atlantic Ocean from his Key Biscayne Suite. The Sheraton Royal Biscayne Resort had not changed much over the years thought Briggs.

It was old Florida at its best, with design and colors with plenty of green grass and palm trees. He popped the top off another Polar Lager Beer starring and wondering what the Latin beauty out on the sand looked like.

Briggs discovered Polar Beer at the small store down the road from the hotel. It was cheaper than the other imports; it was imported from Venezuela, and had a good smooth taste. There was no need to use a slice of lime to kill the taste, which seemed to be the fad with the yuppies here in Miami.

The woman reached up behind her back and started to retie her top as the telephone rang in the suite behind Briggs. Hell, he thought. Just when he was going to see what the rest of the beach beauty looked like. He picked up his glass and went into the living room wondering who would be trying to call him.

He picked up the telephone. Hello, Chester here.

Briggs? This is Dan Mallory. How is the vacation going down on Miami’s Private Island?

Hello Dan. How did you manage to track me down? I don’t know how you do it, but every time I try to get away from you and any work, you find me. When you find me, it normally means that my vacation is going to take a turn for the worst. What’s up?

Camille told me where you were Briggs, so you can blame her. I would not bother you, but something has come up that I really need to see you about. I don’t want to talk about it over the telephone, but I can be in Miami tonight if you can make some time available!

Damn, Dan. Why can’t this wait until next month? Besides, I’m not even sure I want to take on any work right now. I’m still not over the last work I did for you!

Briggs, I would not bother you if this wasn’t important. It really could have a major impact on a couple of things. Some hot shots have approached me in our Government who want us to take on a special job. They want an answer by this weekend, and I need an answer from you by tomorrow. Just a couple of hours of your time tonight?

Briggs took a drink of his beer. He had heard all of this before from Dan. Every time, it always cost Briggs. Still, he could always say no thanks, but he was curious.

All right, a couple of hours tonight, and you buy the dinner and drinks. There is a restaurant down in Coconut Grove called The Chart house. It’s on the bay just off South Bay Shore Drive. I’ll see you there at 2000 hours. And Dan, this better be important.

Briggs hung up the phone and went back onto the balcony. Briggs looked out at the white sand of the beach, but the girl was gone. Shit, he thought. Every time Dan calls, everything goes crazy. Briggs looked at his watch and it was close to noon. He went in to shower and got dressaed.

He went downstairs to the open-air cafe for a light lunch and maybe a swim afterward.

He finished a cold lobster salad, and was refilling a glass of Chablis when the woman on the beach walked into the cafe. Briggs thought she was extraordinary. While not every eye in the cafe turned, enough did to almost make Briggs jealous.

All the tables were full. Briggs was the only person dining alone, so he motioned to her to sit at the empty chair at his table. She slowly looked around the room for an empty table but not seeing any, she looked back at Briggs, and she gave him a smile and walked over to his table.

Briggs stood up to help her into the chair. Hello, I’m Briggs Chester! I saw you looked stranded, and I would like the company. Please join me?

Thank you, Mr. Chester. I hope I’m not putting you out. I’m Monique Von Steuben. Briggs pulled out the chair and Monique sat down.

It is my pleasure, Monique, and please call me Briggs. You certainly are not putting me out. If anything, you are breaking up what was a boring lunch with your company.

Briggs sat back down in his chair, and waved for his waiter. Could I interest you in a glass of this very cold Chablis? It really does cool you off.

Sounds good, but I insist on paying. I really do not want to impose on you. I guess I could have waited for a table, but I am starved. I was lying out in the sun this morning, and I think it affected my appetite. I only arrived here last night. What do you recommend to eat?

Briggs asked the waiter for another split of the Chablis and a glass for Monique.

I had the cold lobster salad, which had a sort of curry sauce. It was very good, but maybe it is to light for your appetite. I think all of the seafood is quite good.

He was looking at her face while he talked. She was really a pretty woman, but it was her eyes that captured his attention. The waiter brought the new wine and a glass. He filled the glass for Monique and asked if she would be eating. She asked him to come back.

The cold lobster sounds good, and I love curry, she said. How long have you been here, Briggs?

I’ve been here a week, and plan to stay for about two weeks. I’ve stayed at this hotel off and on for several years, and enjoy it. How long are you here for?

Just for one week. I live on Aruba and come to Miami several times a year to shop. This is the first time I’ve been here. I normally stay in Bal Harbor on Miami Beach.

Briggs took the menu from the waiter and opened it up to hand to Monique.

Well, I believe that you are going to like it here on Key Biscayne much better than over on the beach. I don’t think the beach here has the surf that they have over there, but the beach itself is just as good, and there is not the crowds that they have.

I’m going to take your suggestion and have the salad. I guess it is not a good idea to eat a heavy meal and get back in the hot sun. Are you going out on the beach this afternoon?

I wasn’t before, but I think I will lay out for awhile. Shall we go together? Briggs was hoping she would want to continue their interlude longer than just this quick lunch.

Sounds great to me. I’d rather have someone to talk to if I’m to suffer in this heat. We don’t have weather that is as hot in Aruba. We get the sea breezes just about always. It’s hot, but not nearly as humid as here. The waiter brought over her salad, and Briggs refilled both their wineglasses. Things were beginning to shape up, regardless of Dan Mallory threatening to ruin all.

Chapter 3

Briggs paid the taxi driver and walked up the walkway to the front door of the Chart House restaurant. The place was getting crowded, but that was not unusual for eight o’clock in the evening. Briggs told the hostess that he was expecting a friend.

He went into the small bar to wait for Dan Mallory to show up. Dan was never on time, but the plane could have been late getting in from New York. He ordered a scotch, sat back and waited.

Briggs was beginning to feel the heat from his body. He got more sun than he thought he would when he was sitting on the beach with Monique Von Steuben earlier that afternoon. She was fun to talk with and she seemed to be sad that he didn’t invite her out for dinner that evening. He explained to her that he already had made arrangements for a business dinner and that he must attend, but hoped she would be around when he returned.

Monique seemed to be a very interesting woman, living in Aruba with no mention of a husband or lover. Yet, she obviously had money. There was enough gold on her wrists and fingers to have floated a loan to Fort Knox. Briggs was hoping that she would still be up when he returned later in the evening.

Dan walked into the bar, having difficulty adjusting to the low lights. Hey, Dan! Over here. Briggs motioned to a stool next to himself. Dan weaved his way through the standing people who were waiting for tables.

Hello Briggs. Good to see you. How is your vacation going? Dan sat down on the stool and motioned for the bartender.

I guess it’s good to see you too, but I’ll reserve my opinion on that ‘till after you tell me what the priority is on this meeting. How is Camille?

Oh, you know Camille. She is up to her ass in her work, but she said to tell you she missed you.

Dan took his drink from the bartender and waved a salute to Briggs. You know, Briggs. It is becoming a habit of our initiating business out of Miami. Remember, this is where I first got you into my business with that Afghanistan Caper. Maybe we need to change our area of operation!

You can change yours, Dan, but I’m content in this area. You want to tell me what this is about? I have just started to enjoy the vacation, and plan on continuing with it for at least another week or so.

There was no reason to mention to Dan his having met the beautiful and mysterious Monique Von Steuben, thought Briggs. After all, the less Camille knew the better it was for him, with no chance of his getting into trouble.

Let’s wait until we get seated at a table. I’m really sorry that this happened so quickly, but I’m afraid someone has taken it out of our hands. Your involvement, I mean. I really had nothing to do with your becoming involved, but now I’m afraid that we have no choice but to continue with it. Lets go see if we can bribe someone into a nice remote table.

Dan drained his glass, put some money down on the bar, and Briggs followed him out to the Dining area. Miami was no different from New York. Dan’s well-placed twenty-dollar bill got them instant service with a table overlooking the bay.

Briggs was wondering what Dan meant by his already being involved. They ordered a bottle of Spanish Wine and looked over the rather extensive menu. Briggs ordered a Spinach Salad with a Broiled Swordfish Entree.

Dan, what do you mean by my already being involved? What am I already involved in?

It is a rather complex story, Briggs. I got a call from a contact of mine in the Agency. I’ve known this Man for a long time, and have helped him out in the past. He has also come up with pieces of puzzles in the past when I was lost. Seems that a group called the Cuban-American Federation here in Miami contacted my friend to see if the Agency would be interested in a special operation they were initiating. They, of course, were looking for funding and logistics support from the Agency.

My friend says that they listened to the group’s proposal and immediately turned the Federation down. Besides being extremely dangerous, the Agency felt that Congress would have went into orbit if the Agency had even gotten near such a proposal. Seems the Agency was walking on very thin eggs after taking a lot of political heat for screw ups which they got blamed for from the boys in Foggy Bottom.

The waiter brought their salads and bread. Briggs refilled their wineglasses while guessing where he came into all of this.

Dan, just what are you leading up to? I still don’t see where I appear in this story.

I’m getting to it. Anyway, while the Agency did not want to touch the Federation’s proposal with a ten-foot pole, they did like the idea, and thought it should be attempted, with the understanding they were not officially having anything to do with it.

Now, this is where it gets a bit crazy, Briggs. Honestly, I really don’t know how they got your name, except they knew you did contract work for me, and was involved in the Afghan thing. Maybe they thought that if they threw your name into the hopper, both my company and you would follow.

It seems that what the Federation are setting up is a special sting operation to capture Fidel Castro. Dan wiped his face with his napkin while sort of peering over at me. It was so goddamn weird; I thought he must have been making it all up.

You are putting me on, aren’t you Dan? You really think I’m going to get pissed and shout or call you a son of a bitch, don’t you? Well, I’m not, see? I’m calm. It is sort of a funny story. I would have just gotten off the banana boat to fall for that. Now, what are you really doing down here? You are wasting my vacation time, you know.

I wish it was just a joke, Briggs. It’s all true; at least if my Agency friend can be trusted. I think he is telling the truth. Some of it sort of fits in with things that took place on the Island during the past year.

You know, it has become common knowledge that Fidel is up to his beard in the narcotics traffic business. I don’t know if there is real proof of that, but public information would seem to support the idea. Oh, I know that he brought to trial and executed some very high level officers within his military for being involved in narcotics.

The Federation believes that it was all a big act staged for the world press. They believe that it was some of the political prisoners made up by make-up artists to look like the officers for the cameras. No one ever got close looks at the bodies after the firing squads were finished. The bodies were cremated within hours after the execution. The Federation thinks that the officers were put on a plane to the Soviet Union where they are quietly living their lives while teaching intelligence courses at the Patrice Lamumba University outside of Moscow. Now, I don’t know if that is true or not. It does, however, stand up to things we know the Cubans and the Russians have done in the past.

What about their families? Surely they would have known something was not right. It is just too difficult to keep such a secret, even in a Federation such as in Cuba, said Briggs.

Funny thing, the families. Seems they just disappeared during the trials. No one has seen any of them since. Their houses and cars all appear normal, but no one has seen or spoken to any of the families. Period. Dan lit a cigarette, ignoring the frown from the guy sitting next to him.

Well, Jesus Christ, Dan! Do you really believe that could have happened? The whole fucking press of the world covered that trial. It just seems so improbable. Does your agency friend believe it?

As a matter of fact, he does. They were not able to acquire collateral intelligence supporting the idea, but they are working at it. With the complete change in the Bloc area, they are hopeful that the Soviets might admit to sheltering the Cubans and their families. That, of course, could be long in coming.

The Federation is not willing to wait for more information. They have actually come up with an operational plan that just might work. Cuba is now desperate for hard currency. Since their banking center in Panama was lost during the invasion, Fidel would sell his brother, Raul, to the highest bidder for currency. The Russians are slowly, ever slowly, pulling the purse strings closed.

Soon, Fidel is going to have a major problem on his hands. His revolution may draw to an end sooner than anyone expected. The Federation is counting on his need for funds to make their plan work. Dan motioned for the waiter and ordered two cups of coffee.

All right, Dan. Lets assume this Federation is correct, and the old man put on the trial and execution act for world attention. What makes anyone think he would continue helping the narcotics dealers peddle their shit, especially in light of his loosing his free trade zone in Panama, and with the pressure starting up in Columbia and the other growing areas of South America. He must realize that DEA and Customs are going to be watching movements through Cuba with a magnifying glass.

Oh sure, he knows that the Island will be watched, but you see, he thinks he is one up on us. He thinks our whole drug interdiction effort is doomed to failure, and that we are all stupid. In some ways, he is right, of course. We tend to let the bleeding hearts dictate how we are going to conduct this war against the drug dealers, and he knows that. He really believes that he can out think us. He may be right.

Anyway, the Federation had their long talk with the Agency. They were turned down, but received a sort of under the covers blessing for their operational plan, and the Agency fed the Federation your name as a principal to be used in their plan. Dan got up and headed for the men’s room. It was a good thing. Briggs would have probably punched him.

Goddamn it to hell, Dan, Briggs thought. He again managed to get me mixed up into something that sounded like a fictional plot of some television series. Who the hell was this Federation, and how did they warrant the lip service the Agency apparently was giving them, admittedly under the table.

Briggs motioned the waiter and ordered he and Dan a couple of drinks. As he lit a cigarette, he was wondering when Dan would get to the good part. How this Federation was using Brigg’s name. Dan came back, looking somewhat as the damn cat that had ate the damn bird.

Dan, you really are a shit, you know? Do you want to go ahead and tell me the rest of this story? Like, how is my name being used, and where am I supposed to come into this bucket of shit?

Well, you are taking this better than I bet my Agency friend you would take it. I just lost twenty dollars.

"I’m not going into the details of what their plan is, because I really