.”
“Señor?” Despite being ten years older, Hernandez deferred to Daniel, but the bill—starting a war with the United States—was more than he had ever thought he’d be asked to pay. He was now focused, but soon his mind wandered back to his conditioned obsession. He couldn’t help himself. Daniel continued.
“I want you to start a war, or make the Americans think you are. Rattle your sabers, move provocatively. I want to see an American aircraft carrier outside my window dealing with you and the threat posed by your expensive warplanes. I want them to ignore my little boats and bug-smashers. I want to hear — on the BBC and CNN — about war clouds, the threat of Russian overflights, partnering with Cuba, whatever. Invite the Russians to your bases and have a party when they arrive. The Americans will go loco with fear and will take their hands off me. All this is to your benefit, Edgar.”
“Señor, I do not see how increasing the American presence in the Caribbean can open the sea lanes and air corridors?”
“Edgar, in my experience the Americans, as they say, cannot walk and chew gum at the same time. They can focus on one thing only, and the AMV in the defense of the Bolivarian Republic is a worthy opponent.”
“While I work for you in private, señor, I work for the President in public. I must have orders.” Hernandez was too savvy in the ways of politics to proceed without all the bases covered.
“Yes, of course, orders from above. We have several friends in Caracas, men you are familiar with, who will assist you. Surely the Americans have committed some diplomatic slight or have designs on our nation’s oil wealth that our intelligence operators have uncovered. Perhaps we can accuse a diplomat or businessman of a trumped-up charge. Events will occur — within days — that will assist you in your efforts so you can send your men into battle with a clear conscience. All of us want a clear conscience, Edgar.”
Daniel’s words reminded Hernandez of another military commander who had served masters who did not appreciate what they asked of him. After masterminding the attack on Pearl Harbor, Admiral Isoruku Yamamoto was said to have lamented his orders. At least Yamamoto had been able to “run wild” for six months, which he did. Hernandez knew that against a determined United States, he didn’t even have six days.
But what choice did he have? Daniel was gracious and attentive, refined in speech and dress. However, Hernandez harbored no illusions that his friendship with Daniel would “save” him. He knew Daniel was ruthless, capable of killing him while smiling into his eyes. And, if that failed, the muscle who waited outside the door would do so the moment Daniel snapped his fingers. A quick bullet to the head or a slow squeeze with their bare hands. Hernandez had seen it with others over the years; Daniel had seen to it that he