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14-00000 104-10177-10217 2025 RELEASE UNDER THE PRESIDENT JOHN F. KENNEDY ASSASSINATION RECORDS ACT OF 1992 3 50 3 TOTA ГАЗЕ 31 217777 2..3-5 CRET 2213222 AF 77 STAFF CIJE CARACAS 32956 TO: DIRECTOR. fil FAI WEAR REINING נגרר %ע:יפ ארט 1. 15 MARCH 1977 88. ELG2:0 ...073 10 101.01 382 : SC SS A E. LACE MSTRICT OF COLOCA T WITH REPSENTATICS Or REQUESTED WHATEVER LEADS AND INFORMATION VELIVE AGENCIES COULD PROVIDE IN ANY CONECTION BETREEA ORLANDO 2050R AVILA AND THE ASSASSINATION OF FORMER CHILEAN AMBASSADOR AND CASINET MINISTER ORLANDO LETELIER. 2. ASCARLETTED ON 20 PRIL HAT CHIEF OF OPERATIONS OF AD : ; CACIA, EXPRESSE) DISSATISFACIONIRITH THE LACK OF SALA 2 TO LASTANI WIM STATEMENT. SINCE CISIP SFICIALS HAD EXTENDEDES, SECRET RICARDO MORALES /201 14-00000 انسراه 201 CARACAS. DISIP OFFICIALS HAD FACILITATED PROTES INTERVIEW AND DEBRIEFING OF CR20 BOSCH AND THEY HAD PROVIDED PROPPER WITH ONE PEICE OF EVIDENCE WHICH PROPPER APPARENTLY WAS SEEKING EAGERLY, A MAP OF THE ITED STATES DELINEATING AREAS OF RESPASISILITY TO INDICATE THAT GUTELERAD NOVO ADICIO NOVO, CUBAN EXILE TO HAVE WRISTICO EGR CUBAN COOLE AS CONCEANED THAT ANF JADICOTING AS OF 3. DISIP GFFICIAL, HAD BEEN SUMMONED SY PROPPER TO APPEAR IN COURT AS A HITNESS, MORALES WAS CONCERNED THAT CRUE WITHIN THE JURISDICTION OF THE U.S. COURTS, HE COULD BE CHARGED WITH UNSPECIFIED VIOLATIUNS I DUS, MORALES, IS IN THE US. HADONGOING, CẢ NGILY HOME > CHKANEL BECAUSE OF POSSIBLE SENSITIVITY CON TIVITY OF COURSE HAVE NO DOUBATION TO REMOVAL OF TH SECRET : 14-00000 『ラッツ13 VR TOP21724 MAY 77 FROM THE PLVACADET CATEGORY. 5. FILE: 75-2-20/3200-12-200/1. SECRET E2. IMEJET. 14-00000 FORM 30200 771 MFG 7.78 CABLE SEC DISSEN DY 41 PERSONIUNIT NOTIFIED ADVANCE COPY ISSUED SLOTTED ACTION UNIT ... TOTAL COPIES 21-2 SECRET 2 24 REPRODUCTION BY OTHER THAN ISSUING OFFICE IS PROMIOITED STAFF RF. FILE. V. Gioms, 2004, 914, 2 5 3 6 YLA 8 ACTION. NFO YEPSIEG T 812745 Ε14826 ن گردد PAGE 21- TOR:2922342 APR 77 SECRET 2922252 APR 77 STAFF CITE CARACAS 32949 TO: DIRECTOR, LA/MIAMI RYBAT WNINTEL REAM DOC. MICRO. SER. 2510 2 1977 MICROFILMED 20 0 1. ON 28 APRIL 1977 WKDIET-5 REPORTED THAT RICARDO MORALES NAVARRETE (SUBJECT OF 201-2285923), ΑΚΑ "EL MONO", IS RUMORED TO HAVE KILLED IN MIAMI A CUBAN EXILE BY THE NAME OF ROBERTO PARSONS. WKDIET-5 SAYS THAT PARSONS WORKED FOR BKHERALD AND UNDERTOOK IN 266922 CARA 32949 ABSTRACT SAH 49 (23) 15 PMB ٤) د١٨( Kathy SEVERAL CLANDESTINE TRIPS TO CUBA, HE SAID AT TIMES PARSONS Skiba HELPED GET PEOPLE OUT OF CUBA FOR A PRICE. PARSONS HAS BEEN MISSING SINCE DECEMBER 1976. THE EXACT REASON FOR HIS ALLEGED MURDER IS UNKNOWN. Tube El 10711-779687- 2. FOLLOWING ARE TRACES ON ROBERTO PARSONS: ACCORDING TO JMWAVE-1302, 16 FEBRUARY 1968, AN AMCLEVE-15 MIAMI CONTACT WAS PROBABLY IDENTICAL WITH ROBERTO PARSONS RAMIREZ, BORN 12 JULY 1932 IN GUANTANAMO. PARSONS WAS A BKHERALD AGENT FROM 1965 THROUGH 1967 WHEN HE WAS TERMINATED ON 32 NOVEMBER WITHOUT PREJUDICE, HE WAS USED IN EXFILTRATION AND INFILTRATION OPERATIONS AND OCCASIONALLY REPORTED GRATUITOUSLY 1 8201-779687 SECRET RECORD COPY ! 296p177 201-285723 : 14-00000 AAS CADLE SEC OSGED PERSON UNIT NOTIDIEO ADVANCE COPY ISSUES SLOTTED ACTION UNIT T 812745 ACTION . ECEIVED MAY 11 FILE VR TOPAL COPIES SECRET 17 2 3 REPRODUCTION BY OTHER THAN ISSUING OFFICE ID PRONIBITED STAFF S ه E1A898 PAGE 22-22 IN 266922 TOR: 292234Z AFR 77 CARA 32949 ON THE DSE AND DGI. 3. INDEX PARSONS, FILE: 75-120-28 201-0285923. E2, IMPDET. SECRET 14-00000 AR APPEARED FIGE 55 ( ESQUIRE MARCH 1917 The Incident by Taylor Branch and John Rothchild How two mild-mannered reporters, on the trail of a Washington bomber, landed in Caracas and ran afoul of the Venezuelan secret service, warring Cuban terrorists, the Miami police, the State Department, the C.I.A., the F.B.I.. and the most dangerous man alive-all this, and their mothers didn't know a damn thing about it "Are There Pay Phones in Caracas? They are on the Pan Am night flight to Caracas, three hours away from at least a hundred murder stories and a lot of steaming intrigue. What are are our chances of getting through this alive?" asks Rothchild. Well, that all depends on who you talk to and how paranoid they are," says Branch. "Our friends in Washington used to be simple journalists and policy analysts. Now they are three-pay-phone men. That means you can't call them without using three pay phones. You call them up and all they'll say is 'phone number ore. Then they go to pay phone number one and you call them again. Then they ask you for the number of another pay phone near yours, and they call you on that one." "What do you talk about?".. "Things like pay phones and letter bombs and wheth- er the Feds can be trusted. The last time I called they told me we would be walking into four nests of known killers: the Cuban exiles in Venezuela, the Venezuelan secret police, the C.I.A. and the Chilean secret police." "Is that true?" "Well, it's true that all those people are down there," Branch says, "but I don't think they would be after us.".. Rothchild does not look reassured. He does not like the way Branch reels off the life histories of all the C.L.A. Cubans he has known, especially since the point is always that the situation is too complicated for words. "Tell me," Rothchild says gravely, "did you tell your mother you were going to Venezuela?" Branch squirms at the cruel question. He wants to appear as knowledgeable and confident as possible, be- cause he has dragged Rothchild into this adventure on less than a day's notice. "No, I didn't teil her," he ad- mits. "It's too complicated. But I think we'll only have one point of danger." "When's the point of danger?" "Well, we may get into the prison and get our an- swers," Branch replies, "or we may get them from peo ple in the Venezuelan government. Either way, we'll know who did the murders and who paid the killers and what other murders they've done. That's what we hope, anyway. If we get that information, we'll be hot antil we get rid of it. We'll have to phone it out of Thitheaterta/201 contraved : i 14-00000 ( Orlando Bosch there and then run like bandits." Ricardo Morales Branch looks out the airplane window and pictures Orlando Letelier lying in the middle of Massachusetts Avenue, his legs blown off at the thigh, his torso pul verized, detectives all around. On the curb nearby sat. his passenger Ronni Moffitt, her eyes frozen, holding her throat. The bomb in Letelier's car had blown a sliver of metal through Ronni Moffitt's carotid artery, and she was drowning in her own blood. Her husband sat nearby, suffering from shock, watching his wife die. She was twenty-five. The killers were the kind of people who would unachine-gun a whole crowd of people in a public square just to hit their mark. They wouldn't care about the others. Ronni Moffitt could just as easily have been half the people Branch knew in Washington. The next day Jerry Ford rode right over the bloody spots in the road on his way to a reception for the president of Liberia; he never said a word about Washington's first gangland-style political as sassination. Unwise to talk about it, especially if the force behind the murders is most likely the govern- ment of Chile. The military junta there overthrew Salvador Allende with a big boost from the CIA, which is still thick as thieves with the generala. Le- telier was ambassador to the United States under Al- lende, then foreign affairs minister, interior minister and defense minister. He had been jailed and tortured by the generals after the coup, then, a year later, de- ported, and in September of last year he was stripped of his citizenship From the day of the murder, Branch had been-pon- dering the bomb he thought was used on Letelier- C4, a white, odorless dough resembling Silly Putty. Branch had heard many Cubans tell tales about C-4 and its predecessor, C-3. It was the C.I.A.'s favorite substance for sabotage in the war against Castro, and thousands of Cubans were trained in its use. Branch had not been surprised when evidence came out that Cuban exilés raight have pulled the Letelier job, but he was surprised by tips he received that they had also killed hundreds of others on a big spree in the Carib- bean. God, there is something big going on, he had thought. And all his sources and his instincts told him the answers were in Venezuela, of all places. It was now October 21, one month to the day since the Letelier murder. こ "So you decided to take a little trip to Caracas too, I. guess." It is Hilda I n, a reporter for The Mi News, standing in the aisle, lowking down at us. She is a specialist on Latin terrorism in Miami. "Looks like it," says Branch, shrugging. So much for the secret trip. Yet he is inclined to trust Inclin, even though he an! Pothchild had met her only that day, while going through clips at the morgue of the News. The three work out a way to make contact in Caгacas. Eranch is embarrassed at being a little reserved. Incian is candid, her face cheerful and open. Inclán leans over and whispers, "Listen, I think you should be careful. There's something strange going on. This flight is crawling with cops and prosecutors from Miami.". Branch and Rothchild turn their heads in unison, and their necks sink down into their shoulders. There are two young Latin men in the back with neatly trimmed beards, unisex hairdos and brightly colored shirts. There are several men in the front who do not look like ordinary passengers. Rothchild decides there might not be any ordinary passengers... "What are they doing here?" Branch asks bluntly. "Who knows?" says Inclán. "I know these guys from Miami. They give me tips sometimes. But now they aren't giving me the time of day. I don't understand them, so I'm going to act just like they are. I don't think you should let them in on what you're up to, either." "Those cops are Cubans, aren't they?" Branch asks, Inclán nods. Branch worries. Cubans on the Miami police force are a strange lot, he has heard. The cops want to infiltrate Cuban terrorist groups and drug- running organizations, but sometimes it turns out that the terrorists and drug runners are infiltrating the сора. Branch and Rothchild exchange signs of bewilder ment as Inclán drifts back to her seat. "Jesus Christ, Orlando Letelier's bombed car, Washington, D.C. : contioned ; 14-00000 John," Branch mutters. "I figured we'd be in for some scrapes, but I never thought it would start before we even got there." Then he's all business. "I've got to give you a quick briefing on our main man while we have the chance. We may not have as much leisure time as we expected." Branch pulls down their dinner trays and spreads out a pile of notes and news clippings. Then he pulls out a police mug shot. "Meet Orlando Bosch," he says. Rothchild stares incredulously at a porcine Cuban man with a thin moustache and thick lips. "He looks like the headmaster of a military school." "I know," Branch says, "but he's a killer. He's also a pediatrician. This whole thing's like that-yin and yang, Boston Strangler and Mad Hatter all mixed up." Branch eyes the mass of clippings and notes, wonder- ing where to begin. "It would take all night to go through what I've heard about Bosch, so I'll get you up to Letelier as quick as I can for now. The back ground is simple: Bosch has been a political terrorist John Kothchild :: Hilda Inclán : Taylor Branch what they call an action man-ever since the late For-Miami harbor. He got ten years, but he was paroled ties in Cuba. He worked for Castro, then for the C.I.A.,in 1972. That brings us to his international period." and then he denounced the C.I.A. He has been an anti-Branch picks up one particular clip and holds it in Castro outlaw since the mid-Sixties, always telling the readiness. "Bosch went underground two years after Miami Cubans not to trust the C.I.A. in their war his parole and the pace of Miami bombings escalated. against Castro. Now most of the hard-line Cubans be-So did terrorist bombings against Castro's embassies lieve him. Bosch is the patriarch of Cuban terrorism." all over the world. Then, in 1974, important Cubans Branch pauses, then flips briskly through the clip-started getting knocked off in gangland-style murders. pings. "Bosch got arrested and indicted pretty regular-A lot of groups, including Bosch's, took credit for ly all through the Sixties. He usually got of. The wit-them. The word was that C.I.A. stooges were being nesses against him tended to sweat a lot and forget eliminated. Bosch became a phantom. Mysterious fig- things on the stand, if they even showed up. In gen-ures with names like Ernesto would pop up in the Mi- eral, Bosch had a threefold operation: first, politicalami press to speak for him. Here's a Miami News clip terror against Castro sympathizers; second, ordinary from this period. It's headlined 'Bosch Declares War crimes like extortion from rich people and companies on Castro.' Hilda wrote it. She's the last American re- to finance the political terror; and third, all kinds of porter to interview Bosch. Shortly after it came out, wars and feuds with his terrorist rivals. Finally, Bosch Bosch slipped out of the country." got nailed in 1968 for shelling a Polish freighter inWhile Rothchild studies the clips, Branch continues, "He got arrested in Venezuela about two years ago. The Justice Department decided not to ask for his re- turn to the United States despite all he's wanted for. That's weird. Then the Venezuelans turned him loose and he left with a bunch of Chilean bodyguards and a big pile of money. I heard all kinds of stories about Fosch being down in Chile with the Pinochet, junta there, bargaining. Now the stories jump to February of last year, when Bosch got arrested in Costa Rica right before Kissinger visited.. The rumor is that he was plotting to assassinate Kissinger. Bosch got out of Costa Rica somehow, and pretty soon there was a secret nfeeting in the Dominican Republic of all the major Cuban terrorist groups, which the Dominicans allowed, of course. There was a negotiated truce, and the terrorists united under Bosch in an umbrella group called CORU, supposedly with the support of several juntas in Latin America. "Now in the last month there has been the Letelier mürder," Branch continues grimly. "The terrorists showed that they were not afraid to kill in the United States, right-in the capital. They have even threstened to kill one of the F.R.I. agents on the Letelier case. And his flancée. The anonymous threats show they have collected a lot of intelligence about the agent's life. The F.B.I. is upset. Then, two weeks after Letelier was killed, terrorista blew up a Cuban plane near Rar- bados, killing seventy-three people. Castro blamed the C.I.A. and canceled the anti-skyjacking treaty. The terrorists loved it: Castro and the Americans getting 3 14-00000 "And you're Raúl." Er. gives him a limp hand- shake and stumps down in his seat. Hilda lesian shakes her head and walks off. "Who's Raul?" asks Rothchild. "He's Rolando Martinez son-in-law. One of the Wa. mad at each other. Then Bosch got er. ed in Vene- zuela again, along with a whole bunch of Cuban exiles, Stories have been seeping out in the Venezuelan press linking Bosch with both Letelter and the Cuban plane. I picked up similar stories in Miami. My sources there tell me the Cubana in jail are almost vil forterentes i optat a lot of time with him in Miami." men, F.B.I. informants and a few veterans of the Ven- ezuelan secret police, the DISIP. Some people say DISIP has tortured the hell out of these guys, but other people say DISIP is in bed with thein-holding them under protective custody till the heat blows over. It's the biggest damn mess you ever saw." "You folks wouldn't mind telling me who you are and what you're up to, would you?" Rothchild and Branch look up at the man standing in the aisle. He wears a leisure suit with a flashy shirt opened to his sternum, showing a lot of tan and some tufted chest hair. "Well," says Branch, "I'm not sure. What are you doing? We're just thinking about racetracks and Cu- bans and stuff like that." "Corse on now. You can tell me," the man urges. "Don't tell him anything," says Hilda Inclán from behind. She is laughing as if it were a game, but her eves signal a warning. Branch is way off-balance. "I'll take the fifth. Why don't we start with you?" "Okay," says the man, smiling. "I'll play it your way, friend. My name's George Yoss. I'm an assistant state's attorney out of Miami." He flashes an ID card. Branch and Rothchild can't believe it. He seems more 1 like a condominium salesman who wishes he could be a golf pro. "Is that right, Hilda?" Branch asks. Yeah, but he's being a bad boy tonight," she re- plies "Tell him to mind his own business, whatever that is." : "What's so bad about that?" asks Rothch:id. "I don't know. It's just that he probably knows who my Cuban contacts are, and I don't know what the hell he's up to. You see, sonse of the people who have been telling me about the terrorists are right-wingers and some of them are left-wingers. I don't care about any thing except the Letelier murder, but I think it would be healthy for us if we could keep the two groups separate. The only way we can do that is to stay kind of incognitor "You're doing great so far," Rothchild says His mind has been wandering over the Rosch briefing. "What makes you think we can get into the prison to see Bosch and his friends?" he asks. "And why would they want to talk to us?" "It's a long shot," Branch answers. "But Bosch is in a tough spot. The Castro government wants him, and Bosch knows that would mean curtains for him. He also knows that he could get killed any day in Vene zuela by either his friends or his enemies. He may fig- ure that his best chance to survive is to come to the United States. What we hope is that he wants to get some of his story out in the American press to force the government to turn the screws and get him back in the States. That's what I hear from some of our Vene- zuelan contacts. I don't know if it's true, but they are pretty high up. Now even if we can't talk to Bosch and the other prisoners directly, we might get stuff indi- rectly from the Venezuelans." "What happens if all the Venezuelan contacts tura Sout to be flaky?" "Okay," says Yoss, "I'm going to give you one more chance. I know you're a journalist. Why don't we start with w who you work for?" "Then we'll just have to poke around," says Branch. "I have a lot of names. There's only one guy I know down here personally. He's a Cuban named Ricardo Morales. I interviewed him back in 1974, just before he came to Venezuela. People in Miami tell me he's way up high in the DISIP, the secret police. I don't know what he's doing now, but he might be a good fallback if nothing else works out." Branch looks down and notices that his hands have been covering up the news clippings unconsciously. These gave me away, eh?" he says weakly. "I'll tell you what, You've got me a little paranoid. Why don't you give me the name of your hotel and I'll call you when we get our feet on the ground? We can talk this; over. "Why don't we start with who you work for?" Yoss persists. He is still kidding, but there is an edge to it. You may need me down here. You never know. This is a strange country and you guys could find yourselves on the next pläne out. I'll give you one more chance." I think I'll lay low for the moment," Branch says: Yoss makes a few more thrusts, then saunters off. "Maybe I was too set on getting into the country on the sly," Branch says. "That sure didn't work out. This Higer's like a goddamn convention! Tell me, Hilda, None of the Cuban cops is named Raúl Diaz, I hope?" That's Diaz right behind you," she replies., Oh shit!" says Branch. He turns slowly in his seat and ends himself staring at one of the handsome Cubans You must be Taylor Branch," Raúl Diaz says with a smila Rothchild is encouraged. At least Branch knows one real person. "What's he like?" "He's one of the most cynical people I've ever. met," Branch replies, "but I liked him anyway. He doesn't have any illusions about the business he's in, and he makes fun of all the people who do. Ricardo is an old operator, even though he's only in his late thirties. He worked for Castro's secret police. Then he worked for the C.I.A. as an explosives expert. He fought for the Agency in the Congo in the mid-Sixties, and then be came an F.B.I: informant. He's the guy who got Bosch convicted in: 1969. Small world, isn't it? Île surfaced in court with everything on tape. Then all hell broke loose. Morales' car was blown up. He survived dut blamed Rosch for trying to kill him. Morales himself was indicted for first-degree murder, but he got off. . He's a survivor if there ever was one." "So he must hate Bosch, then," says Rothchild. "Well, yes," says Branch, cocioued .. 14-00000 5 ( "It sounds like Bosch and Storales have tried hard enough to kill each other." Brauch hesi- Bates and then decides not to tell Koth- child that some of the old C.1.1. Cutans in Miami believe Bosch and Morales have patched things up. Branch does not believe it and it would make things too gnaried. "It's amazing that the Venezue lans would have a guy like Morales high up in their security apparatus," he says absentmindelly-I mean he's a Cuban, and he has worked for Castro, the C.L.A., and the F.B.I., and he's a veteran of gangland-type warfare. It's like tinding a West German high up in the CI.A. and then discovering that he has also worked for the KGB and the Shah of Iran. But from what I hear, that's a pretty com- mon background to have down here. There are Cubans all over Latin Amer- ica." Branch begins packing up the news- clips. "I'm paranoid as hell about this plane," he says. "We're supposed to get a call at the hotel around midnight. That gives us an hour to get through customs and get settled. I want to hustle away from these guys and make sure we're on time." A Greeting from Rómulo Rothchild and Inclán notice a huddle of shady five-footers lurking in a dark corner beside the airport entrance. They must be a Venezuelan tour group, Rothchild thinks, waiting for a burgain Right out of the country. I'm not going (to get paranoid about-everything I see. But the group stares at the passen- gers; their suits blend so well into the shadows that all you see are their mir- ror sunglasses. They look like a dis- play of Foster Grants at the back of an unlighted drugstore. back and forth from one room to the other. In about ten minutes, Turtleneck ro turns aral hands each of the reporters a citación-in triphrate. Rothchuid, trans- lating for Branch, doesn't remember the legal defnition of the word cita- ción. He dors, however, recognize a word farther down in the document- cárcel. Carcel means jail The reporters are being sammoned to attend some kind of inerting in a sinister-sounding room, D-034, in a building somewhere in Caracas at nine a.m. the following day. The letterhead belongs to DISIP. Turtleneck keeps saying it is all rou- tine-just sign the citación and every- body can get a good night's sleep. While Rothchild struggles to understand the fine print, Inclán tells him she thinks it might be a mistake to acknowledge the stimmons. It might conceivably be con- strued as an admission of something, and the reporters don't know what it is for. Inclán decides to try an offensive to get information. She whips out her. notebook as if to write a trafic ticket and asks Turtleneck what his name is. He doesn't answer. She repeats the question and finally he mumbles, "In- spector Romulo," "That's The all there is to it?" "Yeah. Just Rómulo." "Who ordered you to do this?" "I don't know. I can't say. It's just a procedure." "Why is this happening to us?" "It is so because it is so." Inclán writes that down. Branch, whose rudimentary knowl. edge of Spanish often led him to offend the Cuban community in Miami-where he would mean to say "what a grand wedding this is" and end up saying "what tremendous tits you have"-is getting a headache trying to keep up with the conversation. "Isn't there somebody who speaks English here?" he keeps asking. "That's all right," says Rothchild. "The guy isn't saying a damn thing in Spanish, either." Inclán agrees. Logical explanation is that some one on the plans tipped off the Vene zuelans. But why? Branch thrushes around in his spy world for answers. Nothing seems to fit. The three of then theorize all the way to the hotel, and they can only nettie, like Alexander Haig, on a sinis- ter force, Branch is still sure that the summens will be lifted as soon as he can talk te his friendly contacts in Venezuela. Ve Kothchild keeps looking out the window for a tail, A Visit to a Small Hotel The taxi drops them off at the Anauco Hilton, where Inclán is staying. Branch offers to carry Inclin's bags. The lobby, amazingly, is filled with the same DISIP lu.kers; they have managed to move their whole scene intact. They are leaning against walls and sitting on the couches. Branch looks toward the elevator in time to see the Miami attorneys and cops scurrying to get in- side, frantically pushing buttons to get the door to close. They are as jittery about seeing the reporters as the re- porters are about seeing the Venezue lan goons. And the most jittery of all, in the raiddle of the elevator, is Ricar- do Morales himself. Morales is staring at the ceiling, trying to avoid eye con- tact, and Branch has the feeling that Morales is scared. It is the first time he has seen fear on the face of this hardened veteran of Congo wars and Castro plots and murders. Seeing Morales scared makes Branch scared, He warns Inclán not to go anywhere or do anything-just to call him when he arrives at his hotel, the Avila. Back in a taxi Branch is going through another run of Cuban polities. "I don't know, John," he says. "Maybe Morales is behind all this, but I can't figure out why he's doing it. He sure looked as if he's in trouble. He could have been making some secret deal with those cops. Something he knows about one ::think we were tailing the cops." They stop looking only when the Miami assistant state's attorneya and cops; the same ones who have been bugging Branch on the plane, go over and give some of the men in the shad- ows warm, Latin embraces. Inclán thinks it is a meeting between the Mi- Aami Jaw-enforcement contingent and the Venezuelan secret police. She catches up in the line and says she has recognized one of the people in the po lice huddle as Ricardo Morales, the mysterious Cuban who is supposed to be Branch's fallback contact in Carazine subscriptions. Inclán asks him if cas. Branch is stunned. First he is read ing clips about Cubans and cops, and the Cubans and cops start fingering him on the airplane. Now Morales. "Give me your papers and follow me!" a voice booms suddenly. It be longs to a man in a turtleneck sweater and leather jacket. A flunky moves next to each reporter in the line. There is nothing to do but hand over the pass ports and follow. Turtleneck and his garig herd the re- porters into a special room at the back of airport. disappears into an- other office, leaving them alone with an old man seated behind a desk. Thero is furious typing coming from the adja- cent roors into which Turtienerk has disappeared. Ilis dunkies keep running the of those bombings in Miami. Morales might not know that we were on the flight by accident. He might They stop looking police keep circling, and an evasive Rómulo keeps cracking his knuckles, pacing back and forth between rooms, thrust ing pens into the reporters' harids like a door-to-door calesman pushing maga they will go to jail for not signing. Rómulo says, "No, you won't go to jail for that, and I don't care what you do. My orders were to hand you this ci tación, and that I have done. The rest is entirely up to you." Inclán decides to accept the summons but not to sign it, based on Rómulo's assertion that it remains in force no matter what. Branch and Rothébild go along after a brief huddle. Romulo is definitely peeved. He hands each of them a summons in an envelope and tells them to leave. "I don't understand