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On seeing the picture, he recalled meeting Cathy Malone at some function or other. Cute kid, he thought, but a guerilla leader? Not a chance.

Hartford took the paper. "I assume I may keep this."

"But of course."

"What do you want from me, general?"

Cordero sighed. "I wish Havana off my back. Can you get this young officer, Lieutenant Ross, to surrender? If there is any question of his being in danger, I will even arrange to have him surrender directly to you with the Red Cross and the United Nations and maybe Pope John the Twenty-Third looking on."

"What about the woman who leads them?"

Cordero snorted with laughter. "Oh please, major. The woman's picture is in the paper because she is attractive. We looked her up in the base's personnel files. She's a high school teacher. She is in no danger from us. We will make every reasonable effort to see that she is unharmed. Ross, on the other hand, is a qualified marine office and Cullen is a gunnery sergeant. I am also aware that Ross worked with you, which means you know a good deal about him."

Hartford saw no point in lying, although he saw nothing wrong in exaggerating Ross’s prowess. "I do. He was, is, a very good marine and an even better officer. I can see where he would be a very formidable opponent."

"Which is why I have several hundred men out looking for him," Cordero said, exaggerating ten-fold the force searching for Ross. "And let me be candid, major, we have hurt his little group and he has hurt us. We would like that to stop."

Hartford nodded solemnly. Cordero was telling him that there had been some fighting and that Cordero's boys had gotten the crap kicked out of them. Otherwise he would have crowed about the so-called victory. Good for Ross and Cullen.

"General Cordero, Lieutenant Ross is a wolf, a predator. I am afraid that anybody searching for him and the others would be much better off not finding him. Ross is a killer." For an accountant, he added mentally. He had absolutely murdered debits and credits.

Cordero laughed. "Major, once again, please. He was a bookkeeper, not a combat marine. Any success he might have had against us is either due to blind luck or the abilities of his sergeant, this Joseph Cullen." Or the likely criminal incompetence of Sergeant Gomez, he chose not to add.

Hartford shrugged. "I would suggest that you don't sell him short. He is a well trained and highly qualified marine officer. And as to my inviting him or ordering him to surrender, that is out of the question. I appreciate the offer of safety, but our Code of Conduct would not permit it. Ross may decide to surrender if and when the situation becomes desperate and untenable, which would justify his actions, but that does not appear to be the case right now, does it?"

Cordero shifted uncomfortably. "No, it doesn't. Nor does your answer surprise or disappoint me. I would have said the same thing. Honor is not yet exhausted, is it?"

Hartford rose. "I hope it is never exhausted. I trust that your men will always treat mine according to the laws of human decency and the Geneva Convention."

Cordero also stood, aware that he had just deferred to a lower ranking officer. Damn. "I can only hope that your lieutenant's obstinance and misplaced sense of honor does not result in tragedy for him, his men, and the young woman with them. Yes, we will try to abide by the Geneva Convention as well as the rules of decency, but so many things happen in the heat of battle that it is impossible to guarantee anything."

Especially, he thought with a twinge of sadness, with an animal like Gomez searching for Ross and the others.

The Executive Committee, ExComm, was a flexible group of men that that included as many as a couple of dozen high ranking government and military officials. Usually, though, a half dozen or so represented the key areas of the military and the executive branch of the government. The president was present for this meeting, as was the vice president, the military chiefs, the attorney general, and the secretary of defense. McCone of the CIA was also present.

With the exception of John F. Kennedy and his brother, they were all angry to a degree. This time, the military was not going to use General Shoup as their spokesman. This time, it was Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Maxwell Taylor who would speak for the assembled military.

"Mr. President, it is now the end of January. There are more than eight army and marine divisions either at sea or poised to attack and invade Cuba. There are five carrier groups surrounding the island and, along with ground air from Florida, they are continually but ineffectively pummeling the island. I say ineffective because you have given us no specific timetable which we might use to hit targets more specifically and intensely.

"Simply put, sir, this situation cannot go on forever. For all intents and purposes, the entire southeastern quarter of the United States is an armed camp. Airports in Miami, Tampa, Mobile, and elsewhere have been closed to civilian traffic for weeks which is causing untold harm to the economy as well as inconvenience to the civilian population.

"Sir, when are you going to turn us loose? Or are you going to cede Guantanamo to Fidel Castro?"

Kennedy felt the rebuke like a slap. He wanted to lash out at Taylor, but the hard of hearing old general was right. The situation could not go on forever. He looked about for allies. Lyndon Johnson was not in his camp. He was with the military. Secretary of Defense McNamara was deep in thought, probably counting up the cost of the military situation to date, and adding to it the cost of actually going to war. The dollars and cents cost, Kennedy thought unkindly, not the human cost. McNamara was a money man not a military man.

Even his own brother, Bobby, looked impassive and not supportive.

Kennedy cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, I want a resolution to this crisis as soon as possible, but I want to avoid war if it is at all possible."

"Appeasing Cuba would be one way," LBJ sneered.

Oh how I hate that bastard, Kennedy thought. Why the hell did I agree to let the son of a bitch be vice president? Oh yes, because the Republican candidate, Richard Nixon, was such a threat that the Democratic ticket needed a man of Johnson's stature. Well, it had worked but now he had to deal with LBJ as his vice president.

"Appeasement is not on the agenda, Lyndon, and it never will be. I want diplomacy to be given every chance to succeed before Americans start dying. I have again spoken to Secretary Rusk and he feels that it is just a matter of time before the blockade of Cuba begins to show results."

"Bullshit," said General LeMay, coming to the point and obviously speaking for the others and that included Admiral Anderson, the Chief of Naval Operations.

General Taylor looked annoyed at the outburst. "Sir, we do not believe there is any reason for Secretary Rusk to believe that a blockade will be effective. Cuba has or can grow enough food to feed her people for a very long time. A blockade will not work. And, while we are so totally focused on Cuba, there is always the chance that China will attack Taiwan, North Korea will invade South Korea, or Russia will make a grab at Berlin. I know that Director McCone has said that the Soviets will not move against Berlin, but they could always change their mind. And, as that Russian said to McCone's agent, they have no control over the Chinese. Now, we may not believe that, but it does point out the fact that we cannot go on forever with so much of our military tied up in the Caribbean."

"Don't atomic bombs worry you?" Kennedy asked.

"Of course they do," General Taylor answered with a touch of anger. "But the Cubans have only one and it's a small one. Yes, it can do a lot of damage to whoever is hit with it, but we would still have overwhelming strength. Sadly, sir, nuclear casualties may just be the price of a modern war."