At lunch, Kate suddenly said, “I like it here. I don’t want to go anywhere else until nearly the end of our cruise.”
“I think this is the most interesting place we could go,” Stone said. “We should probably visit the fort and take the tour.”
“This is where Dr. Samuel Mudd was imprisoned, isn’t it? After setting John Wilkes Booth’s broken leg after the assassination?”
“It is,” Stone replied, “and he became a hero after putting down an epidemic of yellow fever on the island.”
“I’ll have the Secret Service arrange a tour, at a time when there aren’t many people there.”
“I should think we could go whenever you like—everybody is pretty much home for the holidays.”
“Oh, Stone,” Kate said, “I forgot to mention that on our next-to-last night, I’ve arranged something special for us. It’s a secret.”
“I’ll look forward to it, whatever it is.”
“I promise you, it will be a memorable occasion.”
They spent a lazy week, doing all the things Holly had enumerated. They also watched a couple of movies on DVDs, played charades, and indulged in some card games and chess.
On their fifth night aboard, they went to bed late, and everyone slept soundly. In the middle of the night Stone woke to hear the engines starting. Probably charging batteries, he thought, then he fell soundly asleep again.
—
He woke to a slight motion of the boat, got up and looked out a porthole. All he saw was sunlight on a calm sea. They appeared to be moving faster than on the trip out.
“What are you doing?” Holly asked.
“We’re moving,” he said. “This must be Kate’s surprise.”
“Come back to bed,” she said huskily, and he did.
—
Gloria woke shortly after dawn, got into her swimsuit, and went on deck. It took her a moment to realize that Trafalgar III was gone. She ran to the pilothouse and found the captain drinking a cup of coffee. “Where’s Trafalgar III?” she demanded.
“Over there in the lagoon,” he said.
“She’s not, she’s gone.”
The captain had a look. “You’re right.”
“Where?”
He switched on the radar. “There,” he said, pointing at a blip. “She’s about twenty miles out, and she’ll be off our radar in a moment.” With that, the blip disappeared.
“Which direction?”
“South, more or less.”
“Get this thing started and follow her,” Gloria said.
Judy entered the wheelhouse with the captain’s breakfast. “What’s going on?”
“We’re weighing anchor,” the captain said. “Trafalgar III is headed south, and we’re going to catch her.”
“South? There’s nothing out there.”
“Get on deck and stow the anchor,” the captain said, starting the engines and pressing the switch for the windlass that raised the anchor.
Fifteen minutes later they were headed south at twenty-five knots. “We can’t keep this speed for more than an hour or two,” the captain said to Gloria.
“Why not?”
“Because she uses more than twice the fuel at this speed than at our normal cruise. We want to be able to get home.”
—
An hour and a half later the captain pointed at the radar. “There she is,” he said, slowing down. “We can keep her in sight on the scope, but we can’t follow her all the way.”
“Why not?” Gloria asked.
“Because we don’t have the paperwork to arrive legally in Cuba.”
“Cuba?”
“They’re headed directly for Havana.”
“Why the hell would they go to Havana?”
“Beats me. Look, we’ve got a second blip. The nearest one must be Scout, and the bigger blip is Trafalgar III. Ah, I get it now—the British don’t have the same restrictions as we do, with regard to Cuba.” He pointed at the radar. “Ship to our east,” he said, picking up the binoculars. “Coast Guard cutter,” he said, “on the same course as the yachts. Beyond that, visible on radar, is something bigger, maybe a Navy destroyer.”
“Are they being chased? Drugs, or something?”
“They appear to be keeping pace, but on the yachts’ course, at a distance of about ten miles.”
“This gets weirder and weirder,” Gloria said.
“Maybe not,” Bobby chimed in; he had just entered the wheelhouse.
“Why not?”
“If we’re right, and there’s some British dignitary on board Trafalgar III, maybe the Coast Guard and the Navy are playing the mother hen.”
“How far can we follow them?” Gloria asked.
“I don’t want to get any closer than thirty miles from Havana. The legal border is the twelve-mile line, but the Cubans have been known to treat that loosely. I don’t want a shot across our bows from some patrol boat.”
“Well, shit!” Gloria said.
—
Stone and Holly surfaced for breakfast and were joined by the others.
“Don’t ask questions,” Holly whispered to him.
“Why not?”
“Kate told you—it’s a secret.”
“We appear to be headed for South America,” Stone said.
“Relax, and enjoy the ride.”
Kate and Will joined them. “We’ll be having guests for lunch,” she said. “I’ve spoken to the captain about that. We may need to lunch from a buffet.”
Stone didn’t ask questions, but he knew their table would seat twelve. Who was coming aboard?
“I’d like you to dress nicely for lunch,” Kate said. “Suits and ties for the gentlemen.”
—
At around eleven o’clock Ciao began to turn, and Gloria went forward to find out why.
“This is as close as I want to get to Havana,” the captain said, pulling the power back. “Trafalgar III is only about half an hour out of Havana now.”
“Where are we going?”
“To Key West—that’s all there is. We have enough fuel at our normal cruising speed of ten knots.”
“When will we get in?”
“After dark.”
—
Everybody went below to change clothes, and when they came up, Stone pointed. “Morro Castle,” he said. “I’ve seen pictures. We’re about to be in Havana Harbor.”
“I know,” Holly said.
“You’re in on this?”
“I follow my leader.”
“Why are we here?”
“Official business,” Holly replied.
They slowed as they approached the harbor limits, and Kate addressed them.
“Thank you for being such good sports and not asking questions,” she said. “We will shortly be taking aboard the president of Cuba and his party.”