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San Julián Air Base
Pinar del Rio, Cuba

 

Special Agent Tracy Galitz eyed her surroundings, noting every window, every door, every air duct. It was clear she was on a military installation, and from the airplanes landing and taking off, her briefing and knowledge of their last known location would suggest they had been taken to San Julián Air Base at the western end of Cuba. Escape would be nearly impossible, as would rescue, though she had to assume an operation was already underway.

She had little recollection of what had happened after the boat had capsized. She had struck her head hard, as had evidently Scott Meinke, still unconscious in a bed next to her, his head wrapped in bandages. Her own throbbed with a headache worse than any college hangover, and she had partied hard in her youth. She was a little queasy, and was confident she had a concussion, which would make things even more difficult.

She had been knocked out cold and had vague recollections of coming to on a few occasions since. Flashes of the storm, her rescue, and then this room, gave her nightmarish glimpses into what she had been through during her time after the mission had failed. She prayed that Tosh and Mowery had successfully destroyed the equipment, but she feared they hadn’t. The boat had capsized just as they should have reached the room, and the fact she had no recollection of any of the gear becoming active again indicated they hadn’t killed the dark mode test. It meant they likely had never reached the lab, or had been injured just as she had.

She frowned. If they had been injured, then they should be here with her now, just as Meinke was. The boat had a crew of six, including herself, and there were only the two of them here. She had lost four under her command. Her mouth filled with bile at the thought, and she rapidly swallowed, struggling to regain control. Some of them, she barely knew. Others, she had served with in various capacities over the years. They were all excellent at their job, they were all patriotic Americans serving their country, and they were all her responsibility.

The door opened and a doctor walked in. He smiled. “So, I see you’re awake. That’s good. It should mean you’ll eventually recover.” She said nothing. He stepped over to the foot of her bed and grabbed the clipboard, checking her chart. He switched to English. “Now, I have no doubt you speak Spanish because your government wouldn’t assign personnel to a mission off our coast without them speaking it, but let’s pretend you don’t. I’m Doctor Carlos Valdez. What’s your name?”

She still said nothing.

He sighed. “Now, come on, you can at least give me name, rank, and number.”

Again, she said nothing.

He tilted his head toward Meinke. “I’m guessing you’re wondering what happened to your crew. You two were the only ones we found alive.”

Her heart sank, and apparently her heartbreak was evident.

“I’m sorry for your loss. How many were in your crew?”

Again, she refused to answer any questions.

He stepped to the side of her bed and lowered his voice. “Listen, I’m a doctor. Yes, I’m a member of the military, but I’ve taken an oath to do no harm. The people that I’ll be handing you over to once I medically clear you will not be so, shall we say, gentle. The more information you give now, the less pain you’ll have to endure later.”

She stared at him. “You could always help me escape.”

He smiled broadly. “So, you can speak.” He sighed heavily, the smile disappearing. “As tempted as I might be, I have a family to consider. And remember, you were in the wrong here, not us. You were spying on our country and got caught. If the roles were reversed, would you react differently?”

She regarded him. She was good at first impressions, and she sensed this was a kind man who genuinely regretted the role he was playing in what would ultimately happen to her. “We wouldn’t torture you if the roles were reversed.”

Valdez tossed his head back and laughed. “Perhaps not if we were captured in Florida, but you’d just move us to Guantanamo and then have your way with us. You Americans aren’t as innocent as you would have yourselves believe. You’re as bad as any other country out there. You’re just good at finding loopholes in your own laws.” The doctor returned the clipboard to the foot of the bed. “No one can say I didn’t try to get you to speak. I’ve done my duty. Eventually, we’ll be transferring you to Havana where I won’t be able to help you anymore.”

Her heart hammered with the implications, the results reflected on the monitor by her bed. His eyes flitted over to the display for a moment.

“I see this scares you. It should. If you change your mind and want to talk, remember, my name is Dr. Valdez. Ask any of the staff for me and they’ll get me.” He bowed slightly to her. “I wish you and your companion well. I’m sorry it had to be this way.”

He left the room and her chest ached with the knowledge that four of her crew were dead, and that she and Meinke would likely be tortured to death. Any hope of rescue she had was now gone.

Once they reached Havana, they were finished.