Hear No Evil Read Online Free PDF

started in the early nineties as a pilot with Brothers to the Rescue, a group of Cuban exiles who formed their own search-and-rescue missions after a nine-year-old boy died of dehydration on his journey from Cuba. Not everyone agreed with the organization’s hard-line anti-Castro stance, but it won international praise for an amazing recovery record. On average, the group saved one person every two hours of flight time, sparing thousands who might otherwise have perished at sea in their journey to freedom. The organization’s focus seemed to shift, however, after Cuban MiGs shot down two of its planes in 1996. More and more resources went toward printing and distributing anti-Casto leaflets. That was when Alejandro broke off and formed his own group, Brothers for Freedom. Eventually, the better-known Brothers to the Rescue would stop flying altogether. But Alejandro had vowed never to give up. Rescue missions were costly, and private donations were hard to come by, so he used his own money. Brothers for Freedom—and the search for a free Cuba—went on.
    “Brother One, this is Key West. Do you have a location yet?”
    “Copy that. Let me make one more pass and—” He stared out thewindow toward the horizon, his anger rising at the unmistakable sight of a vessel headed toward the rafters. “Forget it,” Alejandro said into the radio. “Coast Guard’s on its way.”
    Alejandro could hear the disappointment in his own voice, and it seemed ironic even to him. In the early years, the sight of the Coast Guard was a blessing. In fact, he would have radioed for the Coast Guard upon sighting a raft. All that changed with the shift in U.S. immigration policy in 1996. Rafters intercepted at sea were no longer brought to the United States. They were either routed to another country or returned to Cuba. And if they went back to Cuba, it could mean five years in Castro’s prison.
    “Dirty sons of bitches got another one,” said Alejandro.
    “Sorry, Alejandro. You headed back?”
    “Affirmative.”
    “Okay. By the way, I got a phone call about twenty minutes ago. There’s a lawyer headed down from Miami to see you. His name is Jack Swyteck.”
    Alejandro adjusted his headset, making sure he’d heard correctly. “Swyteck? Any relation to Harry Swyteck, the former governor?”
    “I believe it’s his son.”
    “What does he want?”
    “He said it’s a legal matter. About your son.”
    Alejandro’s throat tightened. Several weeks had passed since he’d received the kind of news that no parent should have to hear, but it still felt like yesterday. “How is he involved in this?”
    “He was calling on behalf of Lindsey.”
    Lindsey. Lindsey Hart . The Anglo daughter-in-law who in twelve years of marriage had never taken her husband’s Hispanic surname. “Don’t tell me that woman has gone out and hired herself the son of the former governor,” said Alejandro.
    “I’m not sure. I got the sense he wants to talk to you before he takes her case. I told him to come by around two o’clock.”
    Alejandro didn’t answer.
    The radio crackled. “You want me to call him back and tell him to get lost?”
    “No,” said Alejandro. “I’ll meet with him. I think he should hear what I have to say.”
    “Copy that. Be safe, Alejandro.”
    “Roger. See you in about forty minutes.”
    Alejandro stole one last look at the rafters below, his heart sinking as he watched them waving frantically at the rescue plane overhead. Surely they were convinced that they’d reached freedom’s doorstep, that in a few hours they’d be safe and dry in the United States of America. But the U.S. Coast Guard had other designs, and once the border patrol interdicted rafters at sea, there was nothing Alejandro or anyone else could do. It sickened him to turn his plane away, knowing that their brief moment of hope would evaporate as his Cessna disappeared from sight.
    Alejandro’s hand trembled as he reached inside his collar. Hanging around