Castro's Bomb by Robert Conroy Page A

they didn’t want.   One of them kicked Cathy’s small television across the room.   Cathy thought of bolting out the back door, but they never quite left her alone, and at least one gun was trained on her, however loosely.   The threat was clear – she was to stay put or get shot.
    Cathy's knowledge of Spanish was a long ways from perfect, but she understood that they'd been separated from their unit by the stubborn resistance put up by a handful of Marines down the street and that some of their friends had been killed or wounded, which angered them.   She further gathered that they weren't regulars, whom they despised, but militia, people of the country, and proud of their independence.   She also felt that they weren’t terribly upset that they’d been separated from their unit and were missing the fighting.
    The large one stood before her.   "I am Carlos Gomez," he said, "and I speak English a little.   I learned it from the yanquis bosses who used to kick the shit out of me if I didn't do my work just right.   I hated them and I am glad they are all gone.   They used to beat me, cheat me, all the time they were fucking the Cuban women and turning them into whores."
    He grabbed Cathy's short hair in his fist and pulled her to her feet.   She yelped from the pain and they laughed.   The two other men held onto her arms while Carlos surveyed her.   He grinned and pulled her blouse over her head and followed with her bra.
    "Small tits," Gomez said laughing as he pawed her roughly.   "But they'll do."
    He unbuttoned her jeans and slid them and her panties down over her ankles.   Except for tennis shoes and socks, she was naked.   She was too stunned to even try to wrestle away from the two men who were holding her.   Carlos now had his hand between her thighs and began probing her with his finger.   It hurt and she screamed.  
    “A real tight pussy,” he laughed.   “She might be a virgin.”
    Gomez punched Cathy on the side of her head and followed with a hard backhand across her face.   She felt pain as a large ring he was wearing sliced her cheek.   She saw flashes of light and nearly passed out.
    Gomez continued groping and probing her.   "Yanquis pricks always made our women fuck and suck them, but we never got fucked and sucked by Yanqui women.   They took my sister to a casino in Havana and made her a whore after killing her brain with drugs.   Now you're gonna be our whore.   You're gonna fuck us until you're full and suck us until we're dry, and you are gonna have a lot of time to learn to like it."
    Carlos exposed himself.   She couldn't help but stare at his erection.   "Now this is a real man, a Cuban man, not a dickless American."   He laughed hugely and the others joined in.   They dragged her into her bedroom and threw her on the bed.   She tried to get up, but Gomez pushed her back on the bed and forced her legs apart.   He laughed and took out a large knife and held it against her face.
    "You will not resist.   If you do, I will take my knife and cut your ears and nose off so no one will ever look at you without wanting to vomit.   Understand?"  
    She nodded.   He climbed on top of her and pushed himself inside her.   She tried hard not to resist but couldn't help writhing.   Carlos didn't seem to mind as he thrust deeper inside her.   She bit her lip and tried not to scream.   She would endure the pain, the shame, and the anger.   The other two cheered and said they were next.
    An explosion ripped through the house, sending debris flying.   One of the men who’d been holding her howled and grabbed at an arm that was broken, with a piece of bone sticking out through the skin.   Carlos had been thrown to the floor and got up, puzzled and angry.   He’d ejaculated, but on her leg.   Small arms fire echoed from outside.
    Carlos again slapped her hard alongside her head, knocking her to the bedroom floor.   "You stay here, bitch.   We'll be back and we’ll