73
Here It Comes
Carrier George H. W. Bush, seventy-seven nautical miles north-northwest of Antigua.
When Jana and Uncle Bill walked into the surgical recovery room, Pete Buck nodded at them. As they drew chairs around his hospital bed, he started speaking. His throat was dry and raspy. “I know how this all started. You’ve got to understand the background. Otherwise, you’re not going to believe a word I say.”
“This should be fun,” Bill said.
“It’s beginning to look like the days of Pablo Escobar down there again, right?”
“You mean in Colombia?” Jana asked. “And you don’t have to whisper, Buck. I kind of doubt the place is bugged.”
“Very funny. They had a tube down my throat,” he said. Buck shifted his position. “It started last year when a suicide bomber walked into a closed session
