Havana Club Ch 01

Chapter 1 – A Dangerous Proposal

The desk phone rang. I knew the extension number by heart. It was Ross Crider, the company president. I picked up the handset and heard Ross' strong voice.

"Chris, get up here right away. I have something to discuss with you."

"I'll be right there," I answered. I hung up the phone and saved the spreadsheet I was working on. It wasn't unusual to be called up to Ross' office. The company, in spite of its size, was run on a very informal basis. I took the elevator two floors up to where the partners' offices were located. Ross, being the company president, had his own secretary and reception area. I was used to walking right into his office. Today, his door was closed. That was unusual. It was a rare thing for him to close his door. I looked over at Agnes, his secretary.

"You can go right in. They're expecting you," Agnes told me with her usual smile.

I was curious, but not apprehensive. I tentatively opened the door as I knocked lightly. When Ross saw my head peaking in, he told me, "Come on in, Christopher. Have a seat."

I entered, closing the door behind me. My boss, Mike, was seated on the sofa. One of the two chairs in front of the desk was occupied by William Hanes, the corporate attorney. Ross was directing me with his hand to the other chair. Now I was getting apprehensive. This did not look good. I was summoned to the president's office to meet behind closed doors. My boss and the company attorney were waiting for me. I took my seat warily, sinking into the fabric but still remaining on the edge of the chair.

Ross leaned back in his maroon leather chair and looked at each of us in turn. "I want to make it clear right now that everything said from this point on is privileged information.

Nothing

said here is to be discussed with anyone except the people present. This is for the protection of everyone present."

His words did nothing to comfort me. I was sure I was in big trouble. I just didn't know what I had done. Instead of waiting for condemnation, I took the initiative.

"What did I do?" I asked in as level a tone as I could muster under the circumstances.

My question caught Ross off guard. He looked confused. "Do? You haven't done anything wrong, if that is what you're worried about."

"Then what is

he

doing here?" I asked, pointing to William.

"Bill is here to answer any questions that come up. Let's get right to it. We've called you here to make an offer. I realize this is going to catch you off guard, but it has to be done this way."

"An offer?" I asked.

"Yes, an offer. Your record with the company is exemplary and we want to be sure you stay around. You are valuable to us and we want to use you to our greater advantage. We, I, have a special request to make of you. If you accept, there will be benefits. First, you will be groomed for a branch manager's position."

I relaxed. I hadn't been called in because of something I had done wrong. I was being offered a promotion. A big one.

"We need someone to do the legwork in preparation for opening an office in a country we don't currently serve." Mike grunted at these words. An alarm went off in the back of my mind. Something wasn't right with this. Ross continued. "I want to send

you

. There is a risk involved. I can't deny that. You are the best man for the job. If you take the assignment, you'll get the manager's post when we can open that office. In addition, you'll be offered a partnership when you return from the scouting trip." Now something was really wrong. The risk would have to be substantial to merit such an offer. "In light of the risk, we're going to do things a little differently. Your service will be considered in lieu of the price." He saw the look of confusion on my face and explained with a smile. "We're

giving

you the piece of the pie. You will buy in by doing this for us."

"OK, what's the risk? Where do I have to go? The Middle East? Haiti?" I couldn't think of any other dangerous places where we didn't have an office. The single word Ross spoke next marked the moment when everything changed. From that point on, things were never again the same.

Ross said, "Cuba."

I was stunned. There was silence in the room. Nobody moved. Nobody said anything. This wasn't a joke. They all looked too serious. I took a deep breath, then another. The sound of my breathing seemed amplified because of the silence.

"You want me to go to Cuba?" I asked, unsure I had heard him correctly.

"Yes. You're perfect. You speak the language. No close family to ask questions, you have experience in –"

I cut him off. "You can't just go to Cuba. It's illegal, isn't it?"

Ross looked to my left and asked, "Bill?"

William spoke up for the first time since I entered the room. "Technically, it's not against the law to

enter

Cuba. It is illegal to spend any money there. Unless you have a license from the Commerce Department, or have all your expenses paid by a foreign national, then engaging in any monetary transaction is a crime."

"So I just don't buy anything. Is that it?"

"It's not that simple," William continued. "You have to eat. You have to rent a hotel room. You have to pay the exit tax to leave the country. You can't go to Cuba without spending any money. That puts you in violation of the Trading With the Enemy Act."

I asked the obvious question but I already knew the answer. We wouldn't be having this conversation otherwise. "Do we have a license?"

"No," Ross answered. "We made some confidential inquiries. We were told in no uncertain terms that licenses were not issued by this administration for the purposes we had in mind. No license, period. So you'll have to sneak into the country."

"Sneak?" What the hell did that mean?

"Yes, sneak. You can enter covertly through Mexico, posing as a tourist. The Cubans will let you in and you can do the research. At the end of the week, you return to Mexico, and then reenter the U.S. posing as any other tourist returning from a week in Cancun."

"Tell me about this 'risk'," I asked, not feeling any more relaxed.

William took over again. "It isn't all that risky." Mike snorted again. He must be there to look out for my interests ... and he didn't sound like he had much confidence in the plan. "As long as the U.S. government doesn't find out about your little trip, you come home without incident."

"And if they do find out?" I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer.

"They won't," Ross said.

William continued. "If they would – and it is

very

unlikely they will – then you could be fined or possibly even arrested." His voice trailed off as he said the last part.

"Arrested?!! I don't like the sound of this."

Ross leaned forward in his chair. "Bill can explain it better, but it is easy to get in and out of Cuba without being noticed."

"You want me to sneak in! Don't people try that all the time and fail?"

William spoke up again. "People have trouble sneaking

out

. The Cuban government will welcome you. They'll even issue you a visa. They want American tourists to come in and spend dollars."

"And what about the Cuban stamp on my passport? Do I just hope customs won't look at that?" This was sounding like a really bad idea.

"They won't stamp your passport." William was trying to sound calm, but I could hear a note of alarm in his voice – not a good sign. "Our government issues about 20,000 licenses a year for citizens to enter Cuba legally. The Cuban government says they admit over 200,000 American citizens annually. A lot of people are doing this."

"So, if it is so easy, what is this risk you keep referring to?" I wasn't convinced.

Ross again took the floor. "First, you have to do this quietly. Nobody knows where you're really going. Nobody. Second, no paper trail. Everything is done with cash. Finally, you must not get into any trouble in Cuba. No run-ins with the police or the government at all. You have to be very careful. If you get into trouble, you don't want to call in the U.S. government for help. If our government even finds out you're there, when you do get out, you can be arrested at the border." Now, Ross looked me right in the eye. His expression was the most serious I have ever seen him use. "I give you my personal word. If anything goes wrong, I will personally go down there and get you out. We won't leave you there. Whatever it takes, you're coming home."

That made me feel a little better. Still, there were risks. "So I slip into Cuba and look into opening an office there. Then I get back home. For this, I get to be a partner? The reward is big. Why is this so important, and why me?"

Ross answered my questions. "Cuba is an untapped market. We want to be postured to move in when things change. Castro is old. He has to die someday. In the meantime, there is a lot of pressure on the President to change our policy towards Cuba. Either way, soon it will be possible to do business there. We want to walk in with the groundwork already done. We want to setup shop – fast. Cuba has potential as a vacation spot, exports of agricultural commodities, cigars, music. Cuba is a market that is waiting to explode. In return, they need just about everything. That's the way we see it. You will be our eyes and ears. You will find out for certain. Why you? Because, as I started to say before, you speak the language. You can make a covert trip because you don't have any close ties to ask questions. You already do a lot of business in the Caribbean basin so you know what to look for. You really are the best man for the job. You are our best option for heading up the Cuban office. When things open up, we want you on our side, so we're making you a partner. Do the job. Be careful. In a week, you'll have earned your share."

Mike spoke up for the first time. I jumped when I heard his voice. I had forgotten he was still back there on the sofa. "If he doesn't get caught. He's taking a hell of a risk. He could face a big fine, loss of his passport, or even jail time. He –"

Bill cut him off. "No, jail time is only for repeat offenders who are trafficking in Cuban goods."

Mike broke in with, "Let me finish. He can never get a government clearance. Do you realize how that will look on your record, Chris? Going into Cuba without permission. For God's sake, what if you do something, anything, that gets you arrested? You might serve years in a Cuban prison, then face jail time here when you get back. I think this is too risky. There has to be another way."

"There is no other way," Ross responded. "We've looked into this as well as we can from the outside. We need someone on the street. Someone we can trust to do a good job. Chris is the man for the job." Now Ross shifted his gaze from Mike directly to me. "How about it, Chris? Will you do it?"

My mind was awash with the possibilities. If I got caught, I could lose everything – even my freedom. If I pulled it off, I would be a partner. My future would be set. "You made an attractive offer. I need some time to think about it. Can I give you an answer in a day or two?"

"Sure," Ross smiled. "Think it over. Feel free to talk to any of us about it. Just remember, talk to no one else. This is mostly for your protection. Let us know what you want to do. You're a valued employee and we want you on our team, whether or not you make the trip."

"OK, I'll think about it." I stood. I felt a little unsteady. So much had changed since I sat down.

Ross stood and walked around his desk to clap me on the back. "I'll be waiting for your answer."

I nodded and headed out the door. Agnes looked up as I closed the door behind me. She looked concerned.

"Christopher, are you alright? You look a little pale."

"I'm fine. I just... I need some time to think, that's all." I hurriedly left, returning to my office. I sat down and thought. I couldn't even talk this over with anyone. This was a once in a lifetime chance. I knew I should take it, in spite of the risks. It was a great opportunity, not just the promotion but the experience in Cuba as well. I would have first hand knowledge. This would help with my dealings in the other markets in that region. While I was thinking it over, Eudora chimed. I had a new e-mail. I pulled up the window and saw it was from Ellen. She was inviting me for dinner tonight. She had been trying to get me to see her for a few weeks. She was cute – she just wasn't someone I wanted to have a relationship with. I hadn't been able to find

anyone

I wanted to have a relationship with for a long time. I didn't want to take a chance. Thinking about the situation with Ellen made me think again of Ross' offer. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Sure there was risk, but the rewards were immense. If I didn't take this chance, would there ever be another? If I didn't take this chance, would I spend the rest of my life wondering

What if?

That did it. My mind was made up. I bolted from my chair and headed for the elevator. I punched the up button and it lit up. I was hoping the elevator got there before I changed my mind. I didn't want to back down. I wanted to do this. I needed to do this.

After what seemed hours, the door opened. I got in and pushed the button for Ross' floor. The doors closed and I felt that heavy sensation as the car moved upward. The only other person in the elevator was Hank Jenkins. He was babbling about the basketball game some of us had gone to see last week. I tried to be polite but I am sure it was obvious I was preoccupied. I guess it was good he was there because he kept me from dwelling on what I was about to do. I felt the elevator stop. The door opened. The desk where Agnes sat was opposite. I got out and marched to the office door, ignoring Agnes entirely. This was not like me. I always at least acknowledged her with a smile. I stood in the door to Ross' office, my left hand on the doorframe. Ross was sitting behind his desk, reading a paper. I took a deep breath.

"I'll do it," I announced.

Ross looked up, saw it was me and broke into a grin. He quickly got up from his chair and walked around the desk to where I was still standing, still being held up by the doorframe. He put his arm around me and pulled me into the office, closing the door as he said, "Come in, Chris. Let's talk about this,

partner

."

There. I had done it. I had committed myself. Maybe I needed to

be

committed. Ross didn't give me time to dwell on the darker aspects of what I had just done. He sat me down on his sofa and sat next to me.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked me.

"Yeah, I'm in. When do I do this?" I hoped I didn't sound as nervous as I felt.

"I'd like for it to be as soon as possible. There are a few external forces we can't control. First, our current president has been hinting he might start seriously enforcing the travel ban. We need to get you back before that happens. Then, and this is the main reason we're doing this now, there are rumors that Castro is sick. He might have Parkinson's Disease or other problems. Once he dies, the game changes. There will be a power struggle. Who comes out on top can determine if the country opens up to us or not. I'd really like our base to be established before that happens – so we can be first in. Do you follow me?"

"Sure, Ross. So, when do I go?"

"How about Friday?"

I stared at him.

This

Friday?

He saw my reaction and countered with, "Is that too soon? Do you need more time?"

"No, I might as well get this over with. I'm just surprised. I thought it would take more time to set it up."

"We need to start briefing you with the procedures. Whatever you're working on, pass it on to someone else. For the rest of the week, you're focusing exclusively on this project. Oh, and no one – I mean no one at all – is to know where you're going. We'll arrange a cover story for the other employees. It would be best that you don't talk about this, even when you get back."

I noticed that he said "when" and not "if". That served to reassure me a little.

"Bill has already been doing some research on how to do this." Ross, as if just realizing that I had agreed, reached over the arm of the sofa to the telephone on the end table. He hit a button, then said into the receiver, "Agnes, I need a first class ticket for a flight to Cancun on Friday morning. No, it's for Christopher. Returning the next Saturday. Call me back when you get it setup." He hung up, then hit another button. "Bill, he's agreed to do it. Bring the file in here so we can start working on strategy." He hung up and turned back to me. "You're flying first class because you'll be hassled less that way. It helps to get you through customs easier."

"Thanks," I said with a lump in my throat. I was still nervous. I had just agreed to commit a federal crime.

William Hanes came right over, carrying a thick brown folder. We spent the rest of the day sorting through all the material that had been collected. Agnes picked up lunch and we ate in the office. The door had stayed closed the entire time, except for Agnes bringing in lunch. I was somewhat nervous about the whole idea. It seemed that I made more trips to the bathroom than usual. Ross made his executive restroom available to us. I guess that is one of the privileges of becoming a partner. I just hoped I returned and got to be a partner a little longer than the rest of the week.

During the afternoon, Agnes called in to say my ticket had been delivered by a courier. Now it was official. I was going to Cuba. William had done a lot of preliminary research. There were basically two sets of documents. One was how to safely get in and out of Cuba. The other was about doing business there. We focused the first day on how to get me in and out. Maybe that was to relieve my stress level. To his credit, Ross seemed as anxious as I was about my safe passage.

By the end of the day, the plan for my arrival was set. I would meet a travel agent in a village south of Cancun. He would make all the Cuban travel arrangements. At the end of the day, William pulled a battered copy of Frommer's Cuba from the folder.

"I found this at a used bookstore. I didn't know they made one, and it's a few years old. Still, it's a pretty good guide. Take it with you."

I leafed through it. There really was a guidebook for Cuba. I planned to spend a lot of time reading it over the next few days. I had to keep it concealed. I felt like Winston Smith in

1984

, carrying

The Book

in my briefcase.

By 4:30, we were worn out. The stress was taking its toll. Ross told us to call it quits and start again in the morning. I went back to my office to turn off my computer. When I sat in my chair, I saw the e-mail from Ellen. I decided that I shouldn't pass up any opportunities that presented themselves. If things went badly, she might be the last woman I would be with for a long time. I called Ellen at her office. She was delighted to hear from me. I asked if she wanted to get together that night. She invited me over for dinner and a movie. I told her that it sounded great and I would be over after I showered and changed. With that, I turned off my computer and left the office.

At home, I cleaned up and dressed very casually. With any luck, I wouldn't be back until morning. I was out of the house and on my way to Ellen's place in about half an hour.

I pulled into the parking lot of Ellen's apartment building and parked next to her car. The night was warm and muggy. The crickets were singing as I walked to her door. I didn't feel like singing. I still felt like I was on my way to my execution. First things first – I was going to enjoy this. After all, it might be my last. No regrets. Onward and upward from here. I stretched out my hand and rang the doorbell.