Freedom Fighters

36. Counteroffensive

Grunts of agreement came from the commanders. Dario felt a swelling in his heart, feeling a tremor of excitement at the thought of going on offense. Perhaps the brutal war would finally be won. 

Fidel's dark eyes scanned the room. He allowed a moment of silence to build up anticipation for his words. He nodded, allowing his lips to curl up with glee.

"This is the plan. We need to cut the island in two, and separate Havana from here in the East. So, we shall split into two main forces to take two key areas."

He pointed his finger to a dot to the east of the Sierra Maestra. "Santiago," he said. "The second largest city in the country. If we take this, we break the spine of the army in the East. Rául, Dario, Huber, Celia and myself will lead our columns to advance towards Santiago."

His fingers then slid to the center of the island, and circled two words. Santa Clara.

"Santa Clara." He muttered those words as if he was mentioning the holy grail. "If we take the city of Santa Clara, there is no doubt that we will win the war. Che, Camilo and Quevedo. You three will advance towards Santa Clara. Your path will be easier since the enemy will hopefully be preoccupied with defending Santiago. Take the city of Camaguey on the way. Like this, we will split Cuba in two. In that case, if Batista wishes to reinforce Santiago, he can only do so by sea or air."

Fidel let his commanders soak in the information for a moment, before continuing. "If this plan succeeds, it's effectively checkmate for Batista. A defeat on this scale will lose him the support of the military, and the populace will rise against him."

"What do I do?" Juanita asked.

He turned to his sister, eyes glimmering with passion. "Juanita, you will be in charge of liaising with the Revolutionary Directorate to instigate a revolt in Havana. It's terribly important that once Santa Clara is taken, Havana rises up against Batista."

The Revolutionary Directorate. The name sounded familiar to Dario. Then it dawned on him. They were the anti-government student group in Havana. But following the death of their leader, José Antonio Echeverría, months ago, they had gone into hiding. Rumours had it that Batista was hunting their remnants, and executing them without trial. Camilo's old friends...

"As you wish, brother," Juanita replied.

Fidel nodded and let his gaze wander to the mass of faces staring at the map of Cuba. "So, any questions?"

Camilo raised his hand. "So, what is the backup plan if we fail?"

Fidel took a deep breath, and a hint of apprehension flashed across his features. "It's a gamble, Camilo. If our columns at Santiago fall, then the western columns will be prone to a pincer attack. If the attack on Santa Clara fails, then we lose our chance at winning the war."

Everyone's attention is on him, and a new atmosphere descended upon the room, layering it in a musty cloak of fear. 

"We must succeed. Failure is not an option."

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"It's saddening." Juanita pouted. "I have to leave for Havana, and I won't be able to see you for a few months at least. Just when we won yet another battle. You know, I kept worrying about you, day after day, that I would not see you again."

Dario nuzzled his nose into the nape of his lover's neck. "I worry about that too everyday. But you see, I am still alive!"

Juanita clasped his cheeks, frowning. "Don't do anything reckless, alright?"

"Yes."

She turned and scuttled to the edge of the bed. Her eyes were distant, staring through the flaps of the tent. "Imagine if we won the war, and we can live a happy and normal life, instead of living day by day in the jungles. Raise a family. It's almost surreal to think of such fantasies."

Dario lay a hand on her shoulder. "It won't be a fantasy, Juanita. We will make it happen," he assured her. "Camilo said to me long ago that if we survived long enough, we would rise to the top of the Movement, and if we won the war, we would stand at the top of the country."

She raised her eyebrows, and said in a low voice, "Wow, I never thought you harboured such ambitions."

"It's just that I can't help thinking those thoughts. If we win, I will never want for anything again. A young man like me in such a position? It will be hard, but... it's actually in reach. If only my Mama and Papa could see me right now... I think they will be so proud." His voice broke towards the end. His heart ached with an immeasurable mixture of sorrow and pride. 

Juanita lay her head on his shoulder, her hand massaging his back. "They will be proud of you, Dario. They will. I am proud of you, Dario."

"Thank you, Juanita."

"Just remember to come back to me in one piece, okay?" Her eyes started to well up with tears. The fear came to her like an involuntary twitch of a muscle. If he died... If he died...

"I will, Juanita. I will." He kissed her on the lips. Their tongues mingled with unbridled passion. He kissed her so hard that he could feel his heart constrict and his back tighten. They withdrew, breathing heavily.  The desire embedded in their gazes held the knowledge that they would not see each other, potentially for months.

"We will be together again, I promise you," Dario croaked up. Every single word was pronounced with fervent intensity from the depths of his soul. "There's nothing in the world that matters more."

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Dear Readers,

A short chapter here, to warm things up before we dive into the next series of battles. Battles, after battles, after battles. Such is the life of a revolutionary... Perhaps it will all end soon? But will it be happily ever after if they win? 

Please don't forget to vote or leave your comment! 

Yours sincerely,
SyllabusPearl