CHAPTER EIGHT
Debbie was assigned to satisfy servicemen on leave. She was taken from the prison to a quiet street in the heart of Havana.
As she glided by the beautiful harbor, she wished she could get out. She recognized Morro Castle. There it was on the Bay. How she wished that she could walk down the tree-lined boulevards. The shade would have cooled her off. The fresh sea breeze, and the fantastic blue of the Bar would have ignited her heart into happiness. But this wasn't to be her lot. Instead, she would have to satisfy the strange carnal appetites of warped servicemen who were on leave in Havana.
Debbie was taken to a room in an old antiquated Spanish house. At least she had a private bathroom and shower. The linen was clean on her bed and the tiled floor was far better than the
