“Ah, Bernard,” Ernesto addressed him with his fake identity. “I thank God you arrived when you did!”
“Are those my documents, Ernesto?” Harrison asked quietly.
“Yes of course, these men jumped me on my way to the drop point, and I-“ Ernesto was interrupted by two more silent cracks, one in his chest, one in his forehead. He slumped in his chair, his last breath hissing through his clenched teeth.
Harrison quickly searched the bodies, pocketing their identification. He leafed through the documents Ernesto so graciously provided to him. They accurately outlined the military movements of the Americans on the outskirts of Cuban waters, as well as named dozens of American Agents within the country. This is exactly what he’d been looking for.
He quickly hooked his weapon on his belt against the small of his back and slipped out the door into the warm dark Cuban night.
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