As the infernal wind picked up, a thick and driving rain began to lash down around them.

“We have to move the animals from the field,” Mandy said running to the top end of their small farm.

The animals were lying beside the fence and the frantic woman grabbed the first piece of wood that she came across.

“Come on now, move.”

The cow got up lazily and allowed itself to be directed toward the hayloft, where it lay down whilst munching upon the food.

“I don’t think that we have much time,” Cheryl pointed out as the storm moved up a gear.

“You are most probably right,” Mandy replied. “We have to try though.”

She looked around and spotted the rake. Grabbing this, she dashed back to the field where the normally sedate stream was rapidly turning into a raging river.

Mandy pointed it out.

“If the banks go the field will flood. Now help me with the cattle.”

Mandy prodded whilst Cheryl raised her arms and hollered wildly. The three animals simply looked at them with no intention of moving at all.

“This will never do,” the cop yelled above the rising storm.

“We’ll just grab the sheep then.”

Dropping the rake, Mandy dashed to the resting sheep and began pulling them by the thick horns towards the main yard. At first, they resisted such treatment, but as the rain became a veritable torrent, they quickly changed their minds.

When they were locked inside the hayloft, the air cracked with lightning and the wind began to rise toward hurricane strength.

“What about the pigs?” Cheryl asked.

“We have to leave them,” Mandy said. “Come on, let’s get indoors.”

Once the rear door was locked, they watched the rain battering off the window with some alarm.

“I hope this building can take this,” Cheryl muttered.

“We may be okay. Ever been through a hurricane before?”

The cop shook her head.

“Always managed to avoid such horrors.”

As they huddled in relative safety for the moment, the stream smashed over the earthen bank and the torrent flooded across the top field. The cattle were taken completely by surprise and attempted to reach the safety of the yard. However, the water rose rapidly and they were swept away.

The lightning cracked and the noise rose to a terrifying crescendo, as the storm hit them side on.

The buildings started to shake and rock as the petrified chickens huddled together inside the coop.

“This looks dangerous,” Mandy muttered. “I better see those cattle again.”

Cheryl shook her head.

“Are you insane?”

“We can’t just leave them out there!”

Mandy shook her off and opened the rear door. A wall of air pushed the women back as Mandy fought against it.

“It’s over a hundred miles an hour,” Cheryl told her. “We will never make it!”

“You can stay here if you want,” the nurse muttered. “My animals always come first.”

She headed out as the cop shook her head and followed her into the maelstrom. They struggled across the dirt yard as the hayloft suddenly crashed to the ground. As a yellow plume of material hurtled through the air, Mandy groaned in horror.

“Help me Cheryl!”

They fought their way to the smashed building and began clawing their way toward the trapped animals. As they did so, an unusual roar filled the air around them.

“What the hell is that?” the cop shouted over the din.

Mandy shook her head and tried to peer through the downpour. As she saw the field, her eyes widened in terror.

“Oh crikey!”

She grabbed the cop’s arm and tried to haul her back towards the main building as the raging torrent smashed into the yard.

With the farm built upon the hillside, the torrent was simply taking its natural path. The problem was that the farm buildings stood in the way.

As they struggled toward the rear door, the torrent struck the shattered loft and debris smashed into them. The women were knocked off their feet and driven hard against the farmhouse wall, as the wave of water smashed into the chicken coop.

Mandy saw feathers and wood being scattered as the river of water pushed everything down the slight incline. They were still pinned by the force, and Cheryl realised they were both in grave danger of drowning.

She grabbed Mandy and started hauling her along the wall as the pigsty was torn apart.

“See that tree?”

“You want us to hold out there?”

Cheryl nodded.

“We don’t stand a chance against this,” Mandy protested.

“Well we can’t stay here.”

As they fought toward the tree, a sudden crack indicated that the farmhouse was starting to give and Cheryl glanced up frantically.

“That’s damn well torn it!”

The side wall caved in as the roof collapsed inwards. As debris showered around them, a large chunk of masonry struck Cheryl upon the forehead and her world went black.

“Where am I?” the cop moaned loudly as she tried to focus.

“In a Havana hospital. Now just lie still.”

Cheryl opened her eyes groggily and saw the forty-year-old woman gazing down at her.

“I had a friend...”

The woman shook her head.

“The rescue team only found you. You were damn lucky. The concussion put you out for a week.”

Cheryl groaned and tried to look around.

“I’m on the floor,” she moaned.

“We converted the stadium into a triage area once the people were moved to the north end. There are around a thousand here.”

Cheryl shook her head before it dawned on her.

“You are American...”

“Been here a month now,” the woman said. “Came over from Florida to lend a hand.”

“I’m Cheryl by the way.”

“Pauline...Nice to meet you.”

Cheryl finally managed to see straight and realised that she lay upon an old camp bed like those around her.

“Any news from the outside world?”

Pauline cheered up.

“We heard on the short wave radio that the Brits have found some kind of cure for the firebox. Though how they intend to use it is anyone’s guess.”

“At least it’s good news,” the painful cop muttered.

“We also heard the President has returned to Washington in order to supervise some kind of plan.”

“A plan?”

Pauline shook her head.

“That’s all we know I’m afraid. Now you rest eh.”

A tall, well-dressed man walked toward her and the cop thought that she recognised him.

“Sorry to see you here,” he said politely.

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

The gent nodded.

“I’m Nefonza. We met at the farm.”

“The government official of course. I’m surprised that anyone found me.”

Nefonza sat upon the tiled floor and explained.

“After the hurricane we organised rescue teams and of course the farms got top priority.”

“We were hit pretty badly,” the cop explained.

Nefonza nodded grimly.

“The farm has been scratched. Just soil and debris now. It cannot be salvaged.”

“Pauline said my friend is missing.”

He nodded.

“There was no trace of her I’m afraid.”

Cheryl shook her painful head.

“So what do I do now?”

The official smiled.

“What are you best at?”

The woman grinned.

“I used to be a Washington cop.”

This news surprised him greatly.

“I am suitably impressed. Maria is picking an armed team as we
speak.”

“An armed team?”

“Ms Castro has a few problems here. We have moved the surviving
populace to the north, but a small clique have decided to resist this.”

“So the leader intends to use force.”

The official nodded grimly.

“They have set themselves up at the Gulf of Batanbano to the south of here, and Ms Castro suspects that arm shipments are coming in from Mexico.”

“With all this going on,” the cop said. “A war is the last thing that we need.”

“I tend to agree but negotiations were simply ignored. Maria took down a small party and was fired upon. Now you see why they have to be crushed.”

Cheryl nodded sadly.

“I’ll have a word with Pauline and see when you are fit for action.”

“What about the language barrier?”

The official smiled.

“A few mercenaries arrived a few days ago from Florida, so we shall put you with those.”

Cheryl smiled at the historic irony.

“Maria must be pleased at the twist.”

The official laughed.

“She told me that a dozen yanks armed with weapons could take on anyone and still win through.”

“I hope we don’t let her down.”

The official walked off as Cheryl lay down once more.

Elsewhere on Cuba, a lucky woman was counting her blessings. After losing her friend in the wretched storm, she had wandered south until a truck had picked her up. Now at the Gulf to the south of Havana, she was listening to the group that ran things here.

“Trying to murder Castro’s cousin was pretty stupid,” the tall bloke
was saying loudly.

“We only fired into the air. You wanted to set up this enclave.”

“As a new state yes. How do you think she will do next? Go to church
perhaps?”

Mitre had seen action before but he certainly feared what was coming. His number two was shorter than he, but had no idea what the word diplomacy meant.

“She’ll accept it with some good grace.”

“I doubt that Bellova. She will assemble fighters like the old days and try to storm us.”

“Let her come on then.”

Mitre pointed to the young woman.

“How about you Mandy?”

The woman had not understood a word of the lingo and raised her arms.
Mitre shook his head sadly.

“We need some allies to talk to her.”

“We are all Cubans here,” Bellova said. “Apart from her of course.”

“She can handle a gun so she stays,” Mitre insisted.

Mandy listened as the argument continued.

“Why not launch a raid first then?”

To Mitre that was rank heresy.

“You must be joking. That would walk right into whatever she is
planning. Perhaps that American can be a bit more useful.”

He raised a hand and ushered her over. When Mandy arrived, he tried sign language. As she watched, the nurse gradually got the gist.

“You want me to talk to Maria?”

Mitre nodded hopefully.

“I can do that but I’ll need a vehicle.”

Mitre called a fighter over and said something. The chap took her arm and led her outside, toward the small truck that had brought her here.

“Will that old thing make it so far?”

The fighter ignored her and waited for Mandy to climb inside. As the truck moved off, she suddenly realised that they had no white flag.

When she attempted to explain this, he simply shook his head. The nurse shook her head and muttered, “I have a bad feeling about this.”

The drive north was quite a pleasant affair despite the fallen trees. The truck managed to dodge around these as the roads became a little more solid.

Just outside Havana, the truck came up against a badly parked school bus.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Mandy shouted as the driver decided to check it out. Moments later, machine gun fire tore him down and armed men ran into view.

“I’m surrendering!” the woman yelled as the government troops pointed their carbines.

The officer barked something and she was hustled past the bus and thrown inside an armoured vehicle. As it rattled and bumped its way onward, Mandy became increasingly concerned.

“I just hope they don’t shoot me out of hand.”

When the rear door was thrown open, she was hustled inside the old colonial headquarters and pushed in front of Maria Castro.

“Americano,” Mandy said quickly.

The leader recognised the word and grinned.

“I do speak English you know.”

A soldier spoke and the leader listened intently.

“You were with the rebels I see. Helping them are we?”

Mandy shook her head violently.

“After that hurricane destroyed the farm, I made my way south until
those bozos picked me up.”

“You had a farm here?” Maria asked.

“Certainly did. We were even visited by one of your committee
members.”

“Can you remember who?”

Mandy thought back and said, “Nefonza was his name.”

Maria said something and the trooper popped out again.

“If you are lying, I’ll see to it that your **** are cut off with a blunt blade.”

“Sounds painful.”

“It is my dear. Ah Nefonza.”

The tall official entered the room, beaming when he saw Mandy.

“You will be happy to know that Cheryl is very much alive.”

“You know this woman?”

The official nodded.

“What is the problem here?”

“I was caught with the rebels,” Mandy explained.

“Obviously not by choice,” the official said.

Maria thought this over.

“How long were you with them?”

“Around six days I suppose.”

“Then you got to know them pretty well,” Maria said.

“I don’t speak Spanish so I listened but...”

“How many are there,” Nefonza asked charmingly.

“Not more than forty I’d say.”

Maria smiled.

“The fools have no chance.”

The official then said something and after the reply took Mandy outside.

“Your friend has recovered and is now with our mercenaries.”

“You eh, drafted her?”

The official laughed.

“Believe it or not your friend volunteered.”

He led her outside and toward a small compound. As they entered a familiar face shouted out, “Good grief Mandy!”

Mandy ran forward and threw her arms around her.

“I thought that you were a goner.”

“I have thick skin Mandy.”

“What’s with the kakis and carbine?”

Cheryl smiled.

“I joined up with the American contingent. The commander is a Gulf
vet.”

“You would like to join up?” the official asked.

“Okay mate. I want to keep an eye upon my friend.”

When the official spoke to the commander, he marched up.

“I hope you are not just cannon fodder.”

Cheryl glared at him.

“She can handle herself.”

The commander nodded and took her across to a large wall cupboard.

“Try these on.”

Mandy selected the army top and trousers but drew the line at the clumsy boots. When the ammo belt and carbine was handed over, she examined it carefully.

“These are old Soviet weapons.”

The commander grinned.

“All they have I’m afraid.”

Mandy returned to her friend and asked casually, “So we are off to war I hear.”

“Maria certainly has a bee in her bonnet about being shot at.”

“I was actually with them you know.”

The commander overheard and marched over.

“What do you know about them?”

“They are heavily armed with carbines and have only forty fighters.”

“No artillery or armour?”

“No commander,” Mandy replied. “They seem pretty amateur to me.”

“That could be a good thing,” the commander said. “The less killing done the better.”

“How many mercenaries have you got?”

“Fourteen including you two but Castro has promised us army help.”

“This should be a walk over then,” Cheryl suggested.

“Don’t get too cocky,” the commander nodded. “No enemy is a walk over now a days.”

Mandy nodded as he marched away.

“He seems pretty confidant,” Mandy said.

“He personally recruited his men. We are simply hangers on.”

“That explains it then,” Mandy said.

The official then returned and spoke to the commander. As the conversation neared its end, Mandy joined them.

“I forgot to say earlier that the rebel leader wants to talk.”

The official shook his head sadly.

“You cannot speak to an armed gang miss.”

He turned and walked away as the commander called the mercenaries together.

“Ms Castro has decided to strike after sunset. So conserve your energy and get some rest.”

“The rebels want to talk?”

Mandy glanced at her old friend.

At least their leader wants to.”

She paused and added, “I wonder how many of us will still be around on the morrow?”

It was just after midnight when the army trucks pulled out of the proud Cuban capital. The mercenaries were backed up by the remnants of the army, just as Maria had promised.

Along with artillery, a few tanks had been brought out of mothball for this odious occasion.

Cheryl and Mandy sat with the dozen Americans in the lead truck simply gazing around.

“Just stick to me and you two will be fine,” the commander said.

“Don’t worry about us,” Cheryl said. “Us two have been through far more than you could possibly imagine.”

The proud veteran smiled.

“I saw six of my lads blown to pieces just outside Baghdad by mines then three died when our APC was bombed by our own aircraft.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Mandy whispered.

“I’m trying to say in my own clumsy way that you should watch your
back, as well as the front line.”

Cheryl nodded.

“Thanks for the tip.”

The vehicle ploughed on through the night toward the rocky cove, unaware that the rebels were a little smarter than they had been given credit for.

As the lead truck turned a sharp bend, a terrible explosion blew it onto its side.

“You okay?” Cheryl asked as the vehicle filled with smoke.

“I’ll survive. We had better get out of here.”

As they clambered toward the rear exit, it became obvious that the commander and many of his men were dead.

The two women and four mercenaries crawled into the night, as the artillery pieces were lumbered into an aggressive posture.

One of the mercenaries scrambled forward and was blown to bits at once.

“Watch for land mines!” Cheryl called out as the three survivors huddled close by.

The tank shells rocketed overhead as the air was suddenly filled with small arms fire.

“What a place for a ruddy holiday,” Mandy muttered as the cop pointed to the nearby bushes.

“We had better get over there. Right follow me!”

She dashed over as the artillery unleashed a shell at long last. As it struck a target, the rebels opened up again.

“The enemy has laid a well planned trap for us,” the cop moaned.

Cheryl glanced back as the regular troops took up position along the other side of the road.

“Damn idiots,” she growled.

Mandy glanced ahead at the flashes and let rip with her carbine.

“What I would give for a ruddy grenade.”

Cheryl crawled forward as the three survivors of the yanks crawled beside her.

“Just follow us mam.”

“Where too?” the cop asked.

“See that old building?”

Cheryl could see it and groaned.

“It’s too ruddy far!”

“Just close your eyes then.”

They broke cover and dashed straight for it but a spasm of automatic
fire brought them down.

“As I expected,” Cheryl muttered. “An enemy strong point.”

Mandy was now deeply worried.

“What are we going to do? The regulars don’t speak English.”

Cheryl shook her head.

“We try and take care of ourselves. What we need is some heave
munitions upon that damn building.”

She glanced back and noted the heavy artillery piece that continued to launch shells across the copse.

“That’s damn useless!”

She suddenly started crawling back and when she reached the road, she hollered to the gunners and pointed.

“Hit the ruddy building!”

Despite the language barrier, they understood and levelled the barrel towards the correct angle.

The women watched as the next two shells reduced the building to rubble.

“Now move it!” the cop screamed before dashing forward to the top of the copse.

The tanks now came forward as the regulars broke across the mined road at last. The dark muzzles spraying shells into the bay, where the sporadic gunfire appeared to come from.

“Seems that we are winning,” Mandy muttered.

“Don’t count your chickens my dear,” the cop warned. “This battle ain’t over yet.”

Cheryl moved forward down the hill toward the distant ocean as the regulars sprayed bullets in all directions.

As the women reached a tree, a rebel popped his head out and Mandy took him out with a short burst.

“Let’s try this way,” she suggested moving ahead quickly.

Mandy crawled forward until she suddenly heard something.

“There may be someone there,” she hissed.

A quiet meow reached her ears and she smiled sweetly.

“It’s only a cat.”

Mandy stretched a hand out as a burst of fire exploded around them.
Cheryl rolled and let rip as shrieks of anguish rolled across that tortured bay.

“I think that I got them,” the cop whispered as the old Soviet armour rolled forward down the hill.

Cheryl suddenly realised that her friend was a little too quiet and crawled over. As she looked with the moonlight streaming down, the gaping wound was all too obvious.

“Oh no...Please...”

She ignored the bullets and rolled Mandy over. As the sad moon looked down, the cop saw the open but glazed eyes staring back at her.

“You basta...!”

The tanks fired together as Cheryl wept over her late friend and colleague. Shells exploded just in front of the beach line as the troops surged forward in a mighty charge.

Cheryl heard the screams of the wounded and dying as she lay over the silent body weeping.

A sudden silence fell across the battlefield, followed by a heavy hand upon her shoulder.

A Spanish voice said something that despite the language barrier the cop understood.

As she gazed up at the young Cuban trooper, she smiled and whispered one word.

“Thanks...”

Another great chapter thank you

Ta...