SEAL Team Bravo: Black Ops VI - Guantanamo by Eric Meyer Page B
Authors: Eric Meyer
Tags: thriller, Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Mystery, War & Military, Genre Fiction, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, War, Men's Adventure
Ads: Link
this place, Parque Gunanahacabibes?"
She shrugged. "A day, more or less. We should reach it by early evening. Remember, we must travel off-road; the cops will be looking for us. And if there is any sign the FAR has been alerted, we'll have to wait until night to continue."
It was taking too long. The fugitives could be long gone when they reached the coast.
"What about this boat they'd have used to cross over to Cancun? Do you know the name of the skipper?"
"Of course. José Garcia, he is a distant cousin of mine."
"If they've left the island, we may need to hire his vessel when he gets back. We won't know until we get there."
"It won't be a problem. José will tell us what we need to know, and he is always ready to carry more people across, for a price, of course. But we haven't got there yet. Let's wait until we arrive and talk to José."
They finished the work just before 0400. It was still dark, but dawn would come soon after they restarted the journey. They piled into the Gaz, and she drove away, after Nolan left a few bucks for the damage and the use of his shop.
Two hours later, they were bumping along yet another narrow path along a low series of foothills. The track started to peter out, and Eva turned to him.
"We have to cross the main road. It's the only way to get past this place. There's a deep ravine ahead of us; the road is the only way."
"Are you expecting trouble?"
"Maybe. The police like to use this stretch of road for their checkpoints, especially when they're hunting for someone." She stared at him, "Like us. But it's still early, and they may not have arrived yet. We could be lucky."
She bumped downhill, heading for the road. Soon, he could see the black ribbon of the tarmac ahead of them. As they drew nearer, a light started to flash orange and blue. The lights of a law enforcement vehicle up ahead, blocking the road. She braked to a halt and stared at the roadblock for a few moments.
"They got here before us, so I guess we're screwed."
"Cops?"
"No, they're Cuban military, as I feared. FAR."
"No shit. We'll have to go around them."
She shook her head. "Impossible. The road is the only way forward."
He looked back at her. "There has to be another way. Otherwise we may as well pack up and go home."
She looked thoughtful. "Maybe not yet. We need to talk to Rafael de la Vega."
"Him? He's just a washed-up alcoholic. I don't even understand why you wanted him along. He can't even help himself."
She glared at him, her expression even more frosty. "He wasn't always like this. Many years ago, he was a member of the Cuban Special Forces. They pushed him out of the military because he objected to the dictatorship in Cuba. Since then, he's been forced to make a living any way he can. It was the bitterness that caused him to take to the bottle, but I still wouldn't underestimate him. Rafael is more capable than you'd believe."
She looked behind her and called out, "Rafael, I need you up front."
Nolan watched him limp forward. He looked like a man who'd been in a concentration camp and fed starvation rations for the past two years.
Jesus Christ!
She showed him the problem. De la Vega looked down at the checkpoint, took out a compact pair of binoculars, and scrutinized each man in turn. Finally, he nodded to Nolan.
"I'll do my best. Give me ten minutes."
* * *
Omar Nasriri had raged at the obstinate Cuban standing in front of him.
It should have been arranged, the boat, the payment, everything! Yet this cretin is refusing to take us.
He tried again. "I tell you, it's vital we cross now. We've already wasted too much time. They'll be hunting for us."
Garcia spread his hands. "It makes no difference. If I leave harbor now, a police boat will intercept us within minutes. Normally, there's no problem, but right now, there's some kind of an alert. Perhaps it has to do with your escape. Listen."
He turned up the old-fashioned radio, and Nasriri heard a torrent of Spanish.
"I don't
She shrugged. "A day, more or less. We should reach it by early evening. Remember, we must travel off-road; the cops will be looking for us. And if there is any sign the FAR has been alerted, we'll have to wait until night to continue."
It was taking too long. The fugitives could be long gone when they reached the coast.
"What about this boat they'd have used to cross over to Cancun? Do you know the name of the skipper?"
"Of course. José Garcia, he is a distant cousin of mine."
"If they've left the island, we may need to hire his vessel when he gets back. We won't know until we get there."
"It won't be a problem. José will tell us what we need to know, and he is always ready to carry more people across, for a price, of course. But we haven't got there yet. Let's wait until we arrive and talk to José."
They finished the work just before 0400. It was still dark, but dawn would come soon after they restarted the journey. They piled into the Gaz, and she drove away, after Nolan left a few bucks for the damage and the use of his shop.
Two hours later, they were bumping along yet another narrow path along a low series of foothills. The track started to peter out, and Eva turned to him.
"We have to cross the main road. It's the only way to get past this place. There's a deep ravine ahead of us; the road is the only way."
"Are you expecting trouble?"
"Maybe. The police like to use this stretch of road for their checkpoints, especially when they're hunting for someone." She stared at him, "Like us. But it's still early, and they may not have arrived yet. We could be lucky."
She bumped downhill, heading for the road. Soon, he could see the black ribbon of the tarmac ahead of them. As they drew nearer, a light started to flash orange and blue. The lights of a law enforcement vehicle up ahead, blocking the road. She braked to a halt and stared at the roadblock for a few moments.
"They got here before us, so I guess we're screwed."
"Cops?"
"No, they're Cuban military, as I feared. FAR."
"No shit. We'll have to go around them."
She shook her head. "Impossible. The road is the only way forward."
He looked back at her. "There has to be another way. Otherwise we may as well pack up and go home."
She looked thoughtful. "Maybe not yet. We need to talk to Rafael de la Vega."
"Him? He's just a washed-up alcoholic. I don't even understand why you wanted him along. He can't even help himself."
She glared at him, her expression even more frosty. "He wasn't always like this. Many years ago, he was a member of the Cuban Special Forces. They pushed him out of the military because he objected to the dictatorship in Cuba. Since then, he's been forced to make a living any way he can. It was the bitterness that caused him to take to the bottle, but I still wouldn't underestimate him. Rafael is more capable than you'd believe."
She looked behind her and called out, "Rafael, I need you up front."
Nolan watched him limp forward. He looked like a man who'd been in a concentration camp and fed starvation rations for the past two years.
Jesus Christ!
She showed him the problem. De la Vega looked down at the checkpoint, took out a compact pair of binoculars, and scrutinized each man in turn. Finally, he nodded to Nolan.
"I'll do my best. Give me ten minutes."
* * *
Omar Nasriri had raged at the obstinate Cuban standing in front of him.
It should have been arranged, the boat, the payment, everything! Yet this cretin is refusing to take us.
He tried again. "I tell you, it's vital we cross now. We've already wasted too much time. They'll be hunting for us."
Garcia spread his hands. "It makes no difference. If I leave harbor now, a police boat will intercept us within minutes. Normally, there's no problem, but right now, there's some kind of an alert. Perhaps it has to do with your escape. Listen."
He turned up the old-fashioned radio, and Nasriri heard a torrent of Spanish.
"I don't
Similar Books
