Getting the black unsinkable rubberized boat away from the shore should have made me feel safe, but alas we are talking about an island. It seems that every ten yards there is some kind of water craft available to the security police. I admit that it took them a few minutes to come after us. We were running the outboard motor as fast as it would go, but it wasn't fast enough.

I spotted the pursuit boat more than 300 yards behind us but closing fast. In the black duffle bag we had a half dozen LAW missiles. On a slow moving tank they might be the cat's meow, but on a fast moving boat I doubted they would ever strike the target, Nonetheless I handed Eddie one then told the generic thug running the motor to make a hard right turn.

"You guys need to stay away from the back wash of these things." I said it but knew that each of them knew to get as far away as possible, which wasn't very far at all in the rubberized boat.

The LAW is a contact triggered rocket. Very much like the old bazooka. The law just has a disposable fiberglass tube, instead of a giant water pipe. It is lighter and easier to store than a Russian RPG, but that's about the only real difference. Yet again I made sure no one was behind us. When we came abreast of the pursuit boat, we both fired at it. I had no idea that we would hit it, and we didn't. What I hoped for and what did happen was that on impact with the water near the boat the LAW's explosives detonated. It caused the pursuit boat to lose interest. It didn't stop or turn back, but it did slow down. I think the captain knew that if he got too close the law would sink his boat. In a poor country like Cuba no one wanted to be responsible for losing such a valuable item.

"Nice shooting," I said to Eddie even though we didn't kill the boat, we took it out of the equation for now at least.

"Thanks Rick," After he said that he turned to the mission commander. "That is a call you should have made." Neither Eddie nor I were known for our tact.

The run out to international waters took about twenty minutes. The whole time Jason was bleeding. He would have been screaming were it not for the near lethal dose of morphine someone gave him. Not only did we all scramble on board the fishing boat, we pulled the black landing craft up as well. Once on deck we tossed a canvas tarp over it. The profile under the tarp looked a lot like a hatch cover. I expected Jason to be dead before we reached land. He was still oozing blood, and had to be running low. Just like a car, he was about to seize up. The closest thing to a medic we had started a plasma drip on him, but we knew Jason was on his way out. Someone was about to be rich for few days. Swamp Thing had mission insurance on everyone. I expect that it was written through he CIA. Regardless of who footed the bill, Jason's beneficiary was about to be a million dollars richer.