Fabian Escalante - 634 Ways to Kill Fidel

634 WAYS TO KILL FIDEL

Fabin Escalante

Seven Stories Press

New York Oakland London

Copyright 2021 Ocean Press

Copyright 2021 Fabin Escalante Font

Published by Seven Stories Press on behalf of Ocean Press, Melbourne, Australia. Direct all rights inquiries and permissions questions to rights@sevenstories.com.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

ISBN 978-1-64421-098-7 (paper)

ISBN 978-1-64421-099-4 (e-book)

Printed inthe USA

Published in Spanish by Ocean Sur as

634 Maneras de matar a Fidel, ISBN 978-1-92575-634-0 (paper);
ISBN 978-1-64421-124-3 (e-book)

9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Contents

To Fidel.

To my comrades in struggle, past and present.

To my children, grandchildren and siblings.

To Teresita, beloved compaera for life and partner in this literary adventure.

Recently someone was arguing with one of our people in the United States, and he vehemently disagreed with her, saying, You say there were 30 planned attempts. There werent 30. There were no more than six

In fact, there were neither 30, nor six. There were over 300! Because you dont only count the plans the CIA organized using bombs, a gun powerful enough to kill an elephant, a pen that shoots a little poisonous dart, a mask that has some sort of fungus, and who knows what else No!

Fidel Castro, 1993

Preface to the Second Edition

This is a new, updated edition of a previously published book Executive Action: 634 Ways to Kill Fidel Castro (Ocean Press, 2006) that documented the plans to assassinate Fidel Castro through 1993. This new edition now covers some of the main homicidal plots to kill the Cuban leader through 2000.

We hope this work, written by a key player in this story who has been intimately involved in investigating these criminal conspiracies, will reveal to the reader the extent to which the irrational obsession of generations of US leaders has damaged relations between both countries, simply because Cubans overthrew a US-backed dictator and initiated a social, political and cultural revolution that has become an example for the Americas.

Introduction

On July 20, 1961, I was assigned to the special bureau of the Cuban State Security Department (DSE) unit responsible for investigating plots and conspiracies against revolutionary leaders. It was a memorable day, not only because it marked my debut as an operative officer, but also because I had the pleasure and honor of meeting the people who, from that moment, would be my compaeros.

The first was Mario Morales Mesa, known as Miguel our chief, who had been an internationalist combatant in the Spanish Civil War (1936-39) and was a staunch communist and a born investigator. A small, slim man with a fine mustache, like those worn in the 1940s, he possessed an ironclad will and courage in the face of every test. Dozens of anecdotes were told about him, some from his time fighting in the International Brigades in Spain. In one story, he was responsible for a light submachine gun of Soviet manufacture known as a Maxim, and was thereafter known by that nickname, as he had a particular way of firing the gun so that, his compaeros claimed, it imitated the sounds of a Cuban rumba.

Later, as some of his compaeros related, he was taken prisoner and placed in a concentration camp in Nazi-occupied France, where he managed, together with the Senegalese guards who looked after the prisoners, to open a little store which sold milk to the bosses of the place and gave it away free to the most needy. Mario was a real character who lived for 80-plus years. When I met him, I had just returned to Cuba after training in the Soviet Union, with lots of theory but little practical knowledge. Mario taught me skills in daily combat and investigation that cannot be acquired in any school, however good it might be.

He was an unpredictable person. On one occasion, tired and hungry, we went to eat hot dogs from a van parked behind the famous Hotel Nacional in Havana. He recognized one of the owners of the place as a former officer in Batistas army. After identifying him as a sympathizer of General Batista, he set about playing along with him, while indicating to me that I should eat as quickly as possible. Once we had finished eating, the subject took us to a corner of the van and, with some pride, showed us a crate of incendiary devices: explosives made with live phosphorus, at that time one of the CIAs most sophisticated inventions for acts of sabotage. As quick as a flash, giving me no time to react, Mario pulled out his revolver and arrested the whole gang.

Perhaps because of that speed with which he always acted, he would constantly pepper his speech with You understand?

Carlos Enrique Daz Camacho, whose nickname was Trillo, was one of the compaeros who has left a lasting impression on me and with whom I was friends until his death at enemy hands in 1964. He was a man in his 30s, an old man to those of us who had just turned 20. One day I found him in Marios house, where our office was located, with a cache of valuable jewels in his hands, wrapped in a womans handkerchief. The jewels had been given to him from wealthy Cubans who were frantically trying to get them out of the country. Trillo was an agent who, himself, had belonged to the small world of the Havana bourgeoisie. He hung out with people of his own social milieu who knew he had close ties with various European ambassadors, whom they hoped would assist them get documents, valuable jewelry and assets which had not always been legitimately obtained out of the country. On many occasions, those riches were rightfully returned to the Cuban people at a time when they were most needed.

We were with Trillo another time in the anteroom of the office of Captain Eliseo Reyes (known as San Luis), who was then chief of the revolutionary police. Another police officer was also waiting there. In a low voice, Trillo exchanged words with the policeman, making him believe I had brought him in as a prisoner; within a few minutes, Trillo succeeded in exposing the policeman as an active conspirator within the police ranks.

Trillo always wore a light-colored suit and had a mischievous look in his eyes as hed say Tell you later, which of course he never did.

Another of my compaeros was Jos Veiga, better known as Morn, who had worked undercover in the United States, spoke English perfectly, enjoyed opera and had an inexhaustible imagination. He always had an idea at the ready, even if it was a crazy one.

Carlos Valds, Pedro Pieiro, Mayiyo and many others were part of the group of no more than a dozen men who played an outstanding role in the fight against the assassination plots of the CIA and its Cuban accomplices against the revolutionary leadership, particularly compaero Fidel.

I have so many recollections of those years, when sometimes we had no working budget or a cent to buy something to eat, while in the desk drawers there were thousands of pesos, dollars or valuable jewelry. It never occurred to us to use of this, including to meet expenses related to our work.

All my compaeros are acknowledged in this story, not just those who are mentioned by name, but also so many more who gave the best of themselves in this silent war against terrorism. In addition to performing these heroic deeds, in many cases they have been witness to the incidents related. This story is a sincere tribute to that group of anonymous combatants, to whom I dedicate these pages with all the love and affection that emerged in the heat of those years and the adventures we experienced.