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Velikov nodded. "You and I will accompany the Castro brothers to the parade reviewing stand. I will be carrying a pocket transmitter that will detonate the explosives in the primary ship. When Castro begins his usual marathon speech, we will make an unobtrusive exit to a waiting staff car. Once we are safely out of range-- allowing about thirty minutes to drive fifteen miles-- I'll activate the signal and the blast will follow."
"How do we explain our miraculous escape?" Kolchak asked sarcastically.
"First reports will have us dead and missing. Later, we'll be discovered among the injured."
"How badly injured?"
"Just enough to look convincing. Torn uniforms, a little blood, and some artificial wounds covered by bandages."
"Like two hooligans who vandalized the dressing rooms of a theater."
"Hardly the metaphor that comes to mind."
Kolchak turned and sadly looked out the window of his headquarters over the busy city of Havana.
"Impossible to believe that tomorrow at this time," he said in a morbid tone, "all this will be a smoldering, twisted sea of misery and death."
The President worked at his desk late. Nothing was cut-and-dried, black or white. The job of Chief Executive was one compromise after another. His wins over Congress were diluted by tacked-on amendments, his foreign policies picked apart by world leaders until little remained of the original proposals. Now he was trying to save the life of a man who had viewed the United States as his number one enemy for thirty years. He wondered what difference any of it would make two hundred years from now.
Dan Fawcett walked in with a pot of coffee and sandwiches. "The Oval Office never sleeps," he said with forced cheerfulness. "Your favorite, tuna with bacon." He offered the President a plate and then poured the coffee. "Can I help you with anything?"
"No thanks, Dan. Just editing my speech for tomorrow's news conference."
"I can't wait to see the faces of the press corps when you lay the existence of the moon colony on them, and then introduce Steinmetz and his people. I previewed some of the videotapes they brought back of their lunar experiments. They're incredible."
The President set the sandwich aside and thoughtfully sipped the coffee. "The world is upside down."
Fawcett paused in midbite. "Pardon?"
"Think of the terrible incongruity. I'll be informing the world of man's greatest modern achievement at the same time that Havana is being blown off the map."
"Any late word from Brogan since Pitt and Jessie LeBaron popped up at our Special Interests Section?"
"Not in the past hour. He's keeping a vigil at his office too."
"How in the world did they ever manage it?"
"Two hundred miles through a hostile nation. Beats me."
The direct phone line to Langley rang. "Yes."
"Martin Brogan, Mr. President. Havana reports that searchers have not yet detected a positive radioactive reading in any of the ships."
"Did they get on board?"
"Negative. Security is too heavy. They can only drive by the two ships tied to the docks. The other one, an oil tanker, is moored in the bay. They circled it in a small boat."
"What are you telling me, Martin? The bomb was unloaded and hidden in the city?"
"The ships have been under tight surveillance since arriving in the harbor. No cargo has come off
."
"Maybe the radiation can't leak through the steel hulls of the ships."
"The experts at Los Alamos assure me it can. The problem is our people in Havana are not professional radiation experts. They're also hamstrung having to use commercial Geiger counters that aren't sensitive enough to measure a light reading."
"Why didn't we get qualified experts with the right equipment in there?" the President demanded.
