Among the loners in the [G-2 headquarters] group, Captain Gomez was clearly a man's man: a quiet, strong type with a reputation for heroic deeds in the war against Batista which had preceded him even there. The Library group, in fact, was proud to have him. He was one of Major William Morgan's top aides and had been indicted with him for conspiracy against their former chief, Fidel Castro. Everyone knew how Fidel felt about what he considered a personal betrayal, and all the men hoped for thirty years for Captain Gomez as the lesser of two evils in the trial just then in progress.

Major Morgan was almost a legend in Havana. An American who took up the fight against Batista, he was feared and respected in the hilly area of central Cuba during the war, the Escambray range of mountains. After victory, Morgan learned, along with everyone else, that Castro was not about to share his power with anyone. Still, Morgan stayed in government, somewhat conspicuously on the sidelines. He did, however, help Che Guevara with the early executions at La Cabana, and he apparently believed in their justice. About that time he also helped abort an anti-Castro conspiracy by pretending to go along with it, much to the amusement of Castro, who naturally televised the whole thing nationally and had the conspirators condemned to thirty years or executed, depending on their age and degree of involvement. A side benefit for Castro from this operation was that he thus managed to "compromise" Morgan by having him universally blamed for these deaths which he did not anticipate and perhaps did not condone. The conspirators, after all, bad never hurt anyone or fired a gun in anger, and they were hoping for a bloodless overthrow of what they considered Castro's madness. Morgan, in fact, was a simple, affable gringo, maybe an adventurer, but never a Communist. He finally had had enough of Castro and was taking off to the hills to start a guerrilla movement anew when someone tipped off the G-2. He was apprehended along with a group of friends which included Captain Gomez. Morgan had a following in Cuba among fighting men, and Castro could not railroad his death sentence through the kangaroo courts as he did with lesser figures. An elaborate trial was held, but all in Cuba could predict the result before it started, so well known by now was the vindictiveness of the Maximum Leader of the Revolution.

Captain Gomez bad been with Morgan from the modest beginnings up in the hills in pre-Castro days, and was now with him at the end. The Library group quite naturally bombarded him with questions about the war, about the last conspiracy, and about the trial. I took him into my confidence further than I had most of the others, and we discussed mutual friends whom we had known in the hills or in the urban underground. I even confided to Gomez that my concern for the fate of my Mercedes went beyond the mere worry about the G-2 drivers stripping the gears-a rather foolish reason I had given to the group generally. As a consequence, I was able to ask Gomez, my top bunkmate, to help me be on the lookout for the automobile through the crack in the Library's window board, in case the G-2 should ever bring the car into the patio of the building.

Everyone attributed Gomez' taciturn behavior to his worry over the trial, and everyone understood that quite well. One week after my arrival, one of the knockings turned out to be for Captain Gomez. The Nicaraguan jester never dared sing his lament for the Captain, for he instinctively knew that it would be inappropriate. Gomez was gone for most of the day, came back in a darker mood than ever, and went directly to his bunk. The men respected his privacy and could only wonder about the trial proceedings. That night the evening newspaper found its way to the Library through the courtesy of the guards, who were always happy to provide it when the news was bad. Major Morgan, as expected, had been condemned to death. Various others had drawn sentences from thirty years on down. Captain Gomez had been acquitted. The men couldn't quite understand it, but it really didn't matter. They sang, and jumped up and down, and congratulated the captain on his good luck. After all, the world may disagree with Castro, but if he has you shot you're dead, and that's that as far as you are concerned. Gomez appeared to be surprised at the news, and only said that he was sure he was to be tried for other charges, and he did not seem happy.

The next day Revolucion carried the full story. The key to it read:  "Major Morgan was convicted largely on evidence supplied by his former aide. Captain Gomez, who confirmed many of the charges of gunrunning to the Escambray Mountains and of masterminding the major revolt within government, which were brought against him by the military prosecutor."

One of the Catholic boys had read the newspaper aloud. I looked at Gomez, and the captain looked back, and neither of us spoke. No one else in the Library said anything.

I had talked with Captain Gomez a lot in a few days, and I thought I could tell what Gomez would say should he elect to speak. But Gomez did not speak. Yet, in my mind's eye, I could see the sad, wise look on the rugged face and I could hear the words:

"Look, my new friend, I know I am an informer--a pitiful thing to be. A history of bravery under fire denied forever. But I have a wife and I have children, and I've been fighting for nine years. Nine years out of my life and out of my wife's life, and all the life of my children. Morgan was going to be shot, anyway, and I was going to die, too, unless I talked. Well, I couldn't help Morgan and they couldn't kill him more than once ... His memory, also, would not be hurt, not by my contributing further evidence of a courageous stand against tyranny So why shouldn't I live? ... I don't care any more for honor, and I'm tired of death . . ."

That's the way I heard it. Maybe I was wrong. No one would ever know. Captain Gomez was taken out of the Library that same day, accompanied by complete silence.