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    Everglades. He’d yet to learn that if you ask a nice Cuban girl
    on a date, the entire family would be waiting at the front door
    to meet you when you picked her up. In short, Grippando—
    like Jack Swyteck—was the gringo who found himself immersed in Cuban culture.
    In Hear No Evil, the fourth book in the Swyteck series,
    Jack Swyteck travels back to Cuba to discover his roots. Naturally, he runs into a mess of trouble, all stemming from a
    murder on the U.S. naval base at Guantanamo Bay. Grippando prides himself on his research, and threw himself into
    all things Cuban when researching the thriller. At the time
    it was impossible to speak to anyone about the U.S. naval
    base at Guantanamo Bay without the problem of the detainees dominating the conversation. It was then that Grippando came across a forty-year-old plan—Operation
    Northwoods—which, in the hands of someone with an extremely devious mind, could cause a mountain of trouble.
    So was born this story.
    In Operation Northwoods, Jack and his colorful sidekick,
    Theo Knight, find themselves in the heat of a controversy
    after an explosion at the U.S. naval base at Guantanamo Bay,
    Cuba—an explosion that rocks the world.

OPERATION NORTHWOODS
    6:20 a.m., Miami, Florida
    Jack Swyteck swatted the alarm clock, but even the subtle green
    glow of liquid-crystal digits was an assault on his eyes. The ringing continued. He raked his hand across the nightstand, grabbed
    the telephone and answered in a voice that dripped with a hangover. It was Theo.
    “Theo who?” said Jack.
    “Theo Knight, moron.”
    Jack’s brain was obviously still asleep. Theo was Jack’s best
    friend and “investigator,” for lack of a better term. Whatever Jack
    needed, Theo found, whether it was the last prop plane out of
    Africa or an explanation for a naked corpse in Jack’s bathtub. Jack
    never stopped wondering how Theo came up with these things.
    Sometimes he asked; more often, he simply didn’t want to know.
    Theirs was not exactly a textbook friendship, the Ivy League son
    of a governor meets the black high-school dropout from Liberty
    City. But they got on just fine for two guys who’d met on death
    row, Jack the lawyer and Theo the inmate. Jack’s persistence had
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    delayed Theo’s date with the electric chair long enough for DNA
    evidence to come into vogue and prove him innocent. It wasn’t
    the original plan, but Jack ended up a part of Theo’s new life,
    sometimes going along for the ride, other times just watching
    with amazement as Theo made up for lost time.
    “Dude, turn on your TV,” said Theo. “CNN.”
    There was an urgency in Theo’s voice, and Jack was too disoriented to mount an argument. He found the remote and
    switched on the set, watching from the foot of his bed.
    A grainy image filled the screen, like bad footage from one of
    those media helicopters covering a police car chase. It was an aerial shot of a compound of some sort. Scores of small dwellings
    and other, larger buildings dotted the windswept landscape. There
    were patches of green, but overall the terrain had an arid quality,
    perfect for iguanas and banana rats—except for all the fences. Jack
    noticed miles of them. One-and two-lane roads cut across the
    topography like tiny scars, and a slew of vehicles seemed to be
    moving at high speed, though they looked like matchbox cars
    from this vantage point. In the background, a huge, black plume
    of smoke was rising like a menacing funnel cloud.
    “What’s going on?” he said into the phone.
    “They’re at the naval base in Guantanamo Bay. It’s about your
    client.”
    “My client? Which one?”
    “The crazy one.”
    “That doesn’t exactly narrow things down,” said Jack.
    “You know, the Haitian saint,” said Theo.
    Jack didn’t bother to tell him that he wasn’t actually a saint.
    “You mean Jean Saint Preux? What did he do?”
    “What did he do? ” said Theo, scoffing. “He set the fucking
    naval base on