The screen behind Eisenberg lit up with a photo of The Big Pig, a long white fishing boat with a bright pink stripe along the side.
“This is the vessel that the Cubans seized. We believe it’s a private U.S.-registered fishing boat. Next.” The slide switched to a screengrab from CNN. “These are the four civilians who’ve been detained. We’re still running background checks on the men, but, so far, nothing of interest. They all live in suburban Maryland, just outside D.C. As far as we can tell, the only connection between them is that their children are on the same sports team. Isn’t that right, Sybil?”
“Yes, ma’am. Girls’ soccer.”
“Sybil, do we have anything more than what the cable news is reporting?”
“No, ma’am. But we’re working on it.”
“Fine.” Eisenberg exhaled. “The most likely scenario is that these are just ordinary AMCITs. Regular civilians on a fishing trip and they drifted over the border. The currents in the Florida Straits are strong. I’ve been there many times myself. It’s plausible that they just had too many beers and floated into Cuban waters. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
A hand went up at the table. “So, these guys are drunken yahoos and got lost—that’s our story?”
“It’s not our story, Marty.” Eisenberg frowned. “Those are the facts. Human error or faulty navigation equipment . . . or something like that,” Eisenberg said, scowling. “We are proceeding on this basis until we have reason to believe otherwise. I don’t want the Secretary hearing rumors or paranoid fantasies. We don’t want her spun up about something that’s not true.”
“What are the other scenarios?” asked a young woman at the end of the table.
“Excuse me?”
“If it wasn’t human error or some mistake, what are the other explanations?”
“There aren’t any other likely scenarios right now.”
“What about the boat owner?” she asked. “Alejandro Cabrera could be a Cuban name. Does he have ties to Cuba? Maybe to the Miami exiles?”
Eisenberg turned to her aide, “Sybil?”
“We’re looking into it.”
“Good. But even if we find out this Alejandro Cabrera is the long-lost grandson of Fulgencio Batista, we’re still talking about four American civilians who are now in a Cuban prison and on all the cable networks.” Eisenberg pointed at the screen. The four men appeared slumped over, fear and exhaustion on their faces. “Could anyone seriously suggest these guys are anything other than a mistake? I mean, look at them.”
“Ma’am, if the men are connected to Cuban exiles, that would change the equation,” said another man at the table.
“It will certainly change how the Cubans respond,” said yet another. “The conspiracy theories are going to fly.”
“Even if their incursion was a mistake, if this guy is a Cuban exile, the press is going to have a field day.”
“The Cubans are going to want a pound of flesh to let them go.”
“Hold it!” Eisenberg snorted. “So . . . in all these scenarios, these four soccer dads were doing what? Invading Cuba? In a fishing boat? Is that what you’re suggesting? I don’t think even the Cubans are paranoid enough to believe that. I call that a fantasy. Anything else?”
“Ma’am . . .” The young man hesitated. “There’s a rumor going around the building that one of the missing men has, um . . .”
“Yes,” Eisenberg beckoned the staffer. “Spit it out.”
“Um . . . friends in the building.”
“What?” Eisenberg spun around toward her assistant. “Sybil?”
“There was a security incident this afternoon at the front gate, ma’am.”
“And?”
“A woman crashed her car near the main entrance. I’ve heard she may be linked to one of the missing men.”
“You’ve heard? What do we know for sure?”
“I’ll check with Diplomatic Security.”
“Is this the rumor?” Eisenberg asked.
The young man nodded.
“That’s ridiculous. Until we have some actual facts, people, we’re not changing course.”
Eisenberg brushed the front of her jacket and collected herself. “Unless anyone has something else to add—something factual—here’s how this is going to play out.” She placed both hands on the table, a thick gold ring with a pale blue gemstone clacked on the wood. “We are going to issue a public call for the release of the four innocent men. No escalation, no negotiations. Let’s just diffuse the situation. That’s how we make this go away.”
“What about Congress, ma’am? The Free Cuba Congressional Caucus has issued some pretty strong statements. Adelman-Zamora was on all the networks today.”
“And the Cuba desk has been flooded with calls, ma’am.”
“It’s trending on Twitter.”
“Twitter?” She closed her eyes.