Ghosts of Havana (A Judd Ryker Novel) Read Online Free PDF Page A

his doorway. Judd pushed the papers into piles. “I wasn’t expecting you, sir.”
    “Sorry to surprise you, Ryker.”
    “It’s your building.”
    “Yes, it is, Ryker,” Parker said with a satisfied smile. “I came to congratulate you. Good outcome on Zimbabwe. The old man is gone, and I’m hearing positive things about this new Gugu . . . something.”
    “Gugu Mutonga.”
    “Yes, that’s her. I don’t know how you pulled it off, but good work.”
    “Thank you, sir. I had a lot of help. Ambassador—”
    “Don’t be so damn gracious, Ryker. I know Tallyberger had nothing to do with it. You got it done. S/CRU got it done. I’m glad to see my confidence in you is starting to pay off. I think people are finally seeing that S/CRU gets results.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    “We still have work to do, Ryker.”
    “You have a new crisis assignment?” Judd raised a sheet of paper scrawled with bubbles and arrows. “I’m still working on breakthrough scenarios for Egypt and Angola—”
    “Whoa, Ryker! Slow down.”
    Judd dropped his diagram.
    “Egypt is being run by the White House. No space for you to get involved there,” Parker said. “Why are you bothering with Angola? That’s not a country on my radar. Is there an opportunity coming?”
    “I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Judd said, holding up his paper again. “Angola is a closed oil state. Same president in power since 1979. It looks calm, but I think there’s instability under the surface.”
    “Are they approaching”—Parker grinned and leaned forward—“ Minute Zero ?”
    —
    M inute Zero was what had just happened in Zimbabwe. It was Judd’s concept, his label for the moment of great uncertainty after a shock hits a country. It could be a hurricane or a surprise invasion or the death of the president, anything big and unexpected that causes a seemingly stable political system suddenly to collapse. Minute Zero was when anything could happen next—and so it was the time to act, to shape events the way you wanted them to go.
    In the past few days, Parker had become a big fan of Minute Zero, which thrilled Judd, but he had to admit, “Angola already had their Minute Zero and we blew it.”
    “ We blew it?”
    “In ’75. After the Portuguese pulled out, anything could have happened. But we backed the wrong guy. He talked a good game about killing communists and even drove an old Cadillac around the battlefield. But our man was quickly wiped out with the help of the Cubans. And the same Marxist party has been in control ever since.” Judd waved his paper, “I’m trying to figure out our options today. If Minute Zero arrives once again in Angola, how do we avoid losing a second time?”
    Parker grunted. “I don’t want you wasting time on Cold War history, Ryker. It’s a new age. Hell, we’re even making friends with the Cubans.”
    “Yes, I know that, sir.”
    “That’s what I’ve come to talk to you about, Ryker. I’m going to need your help with Cuba.”

5.
    U.S. CAPITOL BUILDING, WASHINGTON, D.C.
    TUESDAY, 10:00 A.M.
    T his hearing shall come to order,” announced the chair, banging down the gavel to quiet the room.
    The dark wood paneling, the high vaulted ceiling, and the elevated seating for the members of Congress gave the appearance of a royal court. But the audience suggested something far less majestic. The seats were swarming with anxious bureaucrats in dark suits, pock-faced interns in ill-fitting button-downs, tourists in tacky, bright-colored T-shirts, and a small band of exhausted journalists.
    In the middle of the hearing room, the epicenter for the action, was the committee chair’s seat, which was now occupied by a short woman in her early sixties, well-tanned, dark hair cut in a classic Washington, D.C. bob. Her face was leathery and a little too taut for her age, but the scars were professionally hidden behind her ears. Just behind the nameplate that read MS. ADELMAN-ZAMORA ,