Vortex

The newsman’s dapper image disappeared, replaced by soundless file footage of one of Vorster’s angry, arm-waving speeches. The invasion took most experts by surprise despite Pretoria’s recent claims that black guerrillas have been using the former colony as a staging area for attacks inside

South Africa. “

Vorster’s image disappeared, replaced by that of a grave faced man the anchor identified as a spokesman for the Namibian government.

“This attack is clearly aimed at reestablishing Pretoria’s domination over our country.

Namibia will not surrender. We will not yield. Instead, we call on the

United Nations Security Council for immediate assistance in repelling this aggression.”

The anchorman reappeared, flanked this time by a picture of the White

House.

“In Washington, the State Department has issued a short statement condemning South Africa’s military action. The White House is expected to issue its own statement later in the day.

“In related news, violent incidents inside South Africa have been rising steadily in the wake of President Vorster’s new security measures…. “

CUBAN EMBASSY, LUANDA, ANGOLA

Night had come almost unnoticed to Luanda.

A single hooded lamp cast shadows on the wall as Gen. Antonio Vega sat eating alone in his office, reviewing the latest sketchy intelligence coming out of Windhoek. No clear picture had yet emerged, but one thing was obvious. Namibia’s young army was losing and losing fast. And in a war still less than a day old.

He looked up in intense irritation when Corporal Gomez stuck his head through the door to let him know that the ambassador wanted to see him.

Again.

Vega swore briskly, swept the sheaf of intelligence reports into a neat pile, and strode out the door with Gomez in tow.

Tejeda’s office faced an arc-lit inner courtyard-a safe haven should any of the many Angolans who loathed their country’s nominal protectors decide to turn sniper. The ambassador was now fully and formally dressed, but he looked much worse, plainly a man deprived of needed sleep and having had a very full day.

Tejeda glanced up from the message flimsy he’d been studying carefully.

“We have new orders, General.” His tone was portentous, almost comical, but Vega knew he was serious. The ambassador never joked about orders from Havana. It wasn’t healthy.

Vega took the message from him. It wasn’t long. The important ones never were.

“Cuba has pledged its internationalist support of the Namibian people against South Africa’s imperialist aggression. Under an agreement reached this afternoon with the Swapo government, this will include the deployment of military units in combat operations against Pretoria’s racist invaders.”

Tejeda nodded.

“Radio Havana will broadcast that—he looked at his watch—in about half an hour. I have direct orders for you as well.

Orders from the Defense Ministry.

Another telex message. Longer this time.

“Gen. Antonio Vega’s area of responsibility is expanded to include

Namibia. Use existing forces and reinforcements

(see attached) to assist the Swapo government in defeating South Africa’s invasion force.”

A list of units and estimated arrival times followed. Vega felt lightheaded. Fighters, armor, the best infantry units Fidel was evidently prepared to send the cream of the Cuban armed forces into combat against

South Africa!

But there were problems. He looked up, meeting Tejeda’s watchful gaze.

“Comrade Ambassador, have the Russians agreed to support this?” Vega had to force the question out through clenched teeth. Just asking it seemed to reinforce Cuba’s dependence on an increasingly untrustworthy patron.

The Cuban Army’s presence in Angola was possible only because Soviet cargo planes and ships kept it in supply and up to strength. Cuba itself had only a few ships and a scattering of light transport aircraft. Not enough to support a sizable force outside the island’s own shores. So none of

Castro’s extravagant promises to the Namibian government could be met without extensive Soviet backing. Vega had few illusions left about

Moscow’s continued devotion to its socialist brothers overseas.

Tejeda smiled thinly. He shared the general’s disdain for the USSR’s fair-weather communists.

“Surprising though it may seem, Comrade General,

Moscow’s response to our requests have been very positive. Defense Minister

Petrov himself telephoned Fidel to say that four merchant ships and twenty

Ilyushin cargo aircraft will be transferred to our control. Also, advanced

MiGs are being flown from Russia for use by our pilots. They’re scheduled to arrive within twenty four hours.”

Incredible. It was a generous offer, especially the fighter flights. Cuba’s own MiGs didn’t have the range to fly clear across the Atlantic, and just crating them for seaborne passage would have added a week to the time needed to get them into combat over Namibia.

A generous offer, indeed. And that was strange.