Havana Crossroads

Havana, 1962. The Cuban Revolution is three years old, and the island has become the most dangerous flashpoint in the Cold War. Soviet military advisors are arriving in increasing numbers. The CIA is running covert operations from safe houses in Vedado. And the diplomatic community — what remains of it — operates in a twilight zone where every cocktail party is an intelligence-gathering operation and every handshake could be a trap.

You have been sent to Havana under diplomatic cover as a cultural attaché to the Swiss embassy — a neutral position that grants you access to all sides. Your true mission, known only to a handful of officials in Washington, is to establish a back-channel communication line with a senior figure in the Cuban government who has signaled, through intermediaries, a willingness to discuss de-escalation. If this channel can be established and maintained, it could prevent the looming crisis that intelligence analysts fear is only weeks away.

But Havana is a city of mirrors. The KGB is watching the Americans. The Americans are watching the Cubans. The Cubans are watching everyone. Your Swiss cover gives you room to maneuver, but it also makes you a target of opportunity for every intelligence service operating on the island. One wrong meeting, one intercepted communication, one moment of misplaced trust, and you could trigger the very escalation you were sent to prevent. The tropical heat is oppressive, the mojitos are excellent, and the stakes could not possibly be higher.