Beneath the Shadow of Maine
Copyright© 2026 by MF Bridges
Chapter 8: The Secret Meeting
The city was a powder keg, and every whisper could be a spark. Lucía moved through the narrow alleys near the old cathedral, her shawl pulled low, her heart pounding in her chest. Word had come from her brother: a meeting tonight, at an abandoned tobacco warehouse, with one of the American “friends.” She knew it meant Michael.
Inside, the warehouse was thick with shadows and the scent of old leaves. A handful of men gathered around a battered table—her brother Rafael, gaunt and intense; Esteban, the sharp-eyed rebel courier; and, in the dim light, Michael, hat pulled low, coat collar up. He looked every bit the outsider, but his Spanish was quick and sure as Rafael quizzed him on American intentions.
Rafael eyed Michael coldly. “Your government says it wants to help Cuba. But already, we hear stories—of secret deals, of promises broken before the fighting even ends. Why should we trust you?”
Michael hesitated. He could not say he was a spy, but he didn’t want to lie, not with Lucía watching. “Not everyone in Washington agrees,” he said carefully. “Some want a free Cuba. Some ... want something else.”
Esteban spat on the floor. “We hear the Americans have offered to buy Cuba from Spain before. They talk of liberation, but what do they really want? Sugar? Land? Military bases?”
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