< previous page page_108 next page >

Page 108
<><><><><><><><><><><><>
A full colonel of intelligence in newly pressed uniform greeted Krasny at the quayside. He spoke to his escort in Spanish, then to Corporal Roberto. The corporal looked apprehensive. As well he should, Krasny thought. Debts of all kinds were going to be paid.
The colonel was young, in his mid-twenties. He wore a trimmed beard, black, but already streaked with gray. Did they all do that for effect, to imitate Fidel, Krasny wondered. When he was a child he remembered that Stalinesque moustaches had been very popular among apparatchiks in Sverdlosk, where he had grown up. What styles will we Soyuz popularize when we take power, he wondered.
"I am Coronelo Alberto Sanchez-Diaz," the soldier said. "You are to leave the gardens of the Queen." A wintry smile briefly touched his narrow face.
Not "Companero Coronel," Krasny noted. Yes, things were changing swiftly. But there was something chilling about this man, nonetheless. Why am I put in mind of Feliks Dzerzhinsky? What an odd idea, Krasny thought.
He could hear the launch's engines burbling in the hot, dark night. The smell of the sea was very strong.
Sanchez-Diaz said, "Fidel is dead. Raul is Maximum Leader. Do you wish more explanation?"
"Let's just get aboard and leave this forsaken place," Krasny said. This rock where I thought I might spend all my days
"Of course," the colonel said. "Very sensible. Step aboard the launch, Preso Krasny."
Preso? Prisoner Krasny? He had been shoved aboard before he could react to the manner of address. The soldiers leaped aboard after the colonel and stood on either side of him. The man at the helm advanced the throttle and the launch put out from the pier swiftly.
The last thing Krasny saw of Cayo de las Doce Leguas was the single yellowish light on the end of the pier, with Corporal

 
< previous page page_108 next page >