The Lynx

By Victor Nickolich

"As the Russian-built Lada sedan sped towards Havana, the man known as Lince felt a sudden chill running down his spine. Could it be possible that the same people he sought help from had double-crossed him? The likelihood that someone at the US State Department had cozied up to the Cubans and leaked his intentions to defect suddenly became

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shreiber Press
• Release date: Nov 15, 2017
• ISBN: 9780997979961

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Book Reviews

The Lynx is a powerful and inspirational story of courage and commitment to freedom. It is also a fascinating view of the story of Cuba during the Cold War. I highly recommend it!

—Admiral James Stavridis, USN (Ret.) Commander,

U.S. Southern Command 2006-2009. Supreme Allied Commander, NATO 2009-2011. Author of The Accidental Admiral and Destroyer Captain.

The Lynx is the harrowing account of a man’s extraordinary quest for freedom in the face of heart-pounding, life threatening odds. Exciting, inspirational, and replete with international intrigue, Nick’s unforgettable story has all the ingredients of a John LeCarre novel, except for one critical aspect: all the action, all the people, and all the circumstances are real. Through his own patience, innovation, and sheer competence, Nick manages single-handedly to turn all other Cold War defection stories on their head. If you want to truly appreciate your freedom-or just need to be reminded from time to time. The Lynx is a very, very good place to start.

—John Fenzel, The Sterling Forest (Breathe Press, 2016), The Lazarus Covenant (Breathe Press, 2009).

John Fenzel is a retired Senior Special Forces officer who served on our nation’s battlefields throughout Europe and the Middle East. He served on the personal staffs of the Secretary of Defense, Army Chief of Staff, and the Vice President of the United States. Following the Cold War, he led the first U.S. deployments to the Baltic States.

I first met the author and protagonist at the Pan American Parachute Games in Peru, 1975. In The Lynx, Nick paints his amazing story with the authority of a personal witness to one of the most critical stages of Cuban communism, and of his extraordinary struggle for freedom. Against all odds, Nick became a world-class parachutist with the sole purpose of escaping from the prison island—a mighty demonstration of the unbreakable spirit of human survival. It is a real and exciting story. A must read.

—Tomás Dánil Berriolo, President of the Pan American Parachuting Federation, 1972-1980. Recipient of the highly distinguished Paul Tissandier Diploma by the Fédération Aéronautique Internationale.

VICTOR NICK NICKOLICH

The LYNX

A TRUE STORY OF INTRIGUE, DECEIT, AND TRIUMPH IN THE MIDST OF THE COLD WAR

Shreiber Press

The Lynx

Copyright © 2016 by Victor Nickolich.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without permission in writing by the author.

This is a nonfiction novel based on a true story and historical facts. Some of the names and circumstances appearing herein have been changed to protect the innocent.

Book design copyright © 2016 Shreiber Press.

Cover design by Victor Nickolich

Published in the United States of America ISBN: 978-0-9979799-0-9

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016914392 The Lynx—Nickolich, Victor —Ed. I. Title

Biography & Autobiography / Personal Memoirs

Biography & Autobiography / Political

History / Cuba-20th Century Third Edition

Special thanks to Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice, who made possible the declassification and release of the secret communications between the U.S. State Department and the U.S. Embassy in Mexico City that appear at the end of this book.

For my wonderful children, Stana and Lucas,

whom I love and admire more than they will ever know.

And, for my wife, Loes,

who makes everything possible.

Prologue

A thick haze had engulfed the airfield overnight. Despite the near zero visibility, the runner managed to keep a steady pace on the two kilometers stretch of uneven ground that bordered the paved runway. He had run on that footpath many times before and knew every dip and bump of the terrain.

Jogging alone at dawn offered him great comfort. It was the quietest time of the day and the only sounds heard were his rhythmic breathing, and his running shoes crushing the moist grass. The open spaces brought clarity to his thoughts and allowed him to daydream undisturbed.

That tranquility, however, would be temporary. Soon enough, the airfield would bustle once again with the sights and sounds of an active crop duster base, which doubled as a training center for the national parachute team. Shortly after dawn, several Russian-built AN-2 crop dusters began to take off to work the nearby sugar cane fields. By the time the last duster got off the ground, another AN-2 plane, this one outfitted with bucket seats to carry jumpers, had moved to the tarmac to pick- up the first load of skydivers.

Nick sprinted the last fifty yards and made it to the barracks. With only a few minutes left to make it to the boarding area, the man took a quick shower, put on a warm-up suit, grabbed his parachute and made a dash for the AN-2. The sunlight he had seen filtering through the fog on the horizon promised another perfect day ahead.

But sometimes life takes unexpected turns. While the skydiver was ready for a full day of training, destiny had reserved a much different story for him.

Part I

THE ENIGMA

Chapter 1

In native American mythology, the Lynx symbolizes the knower of secrets, in terms of what we hide from ourselves as well as from others. — Mark Lee

In the summer of 1977, an elite group of skydivers convened at the San Nicolas airfield near Havana to train for the Pan American Parachuting Championships. Their designated coach would be Anatoli Tolia Yurenkov, a former U.S.S.R. champion and a member of a Spetsnaz airborne unit in the Soviet Republic of Ukraine. Tolia was six-foot three, burly, rough around the edges and hardly spoke Spanish, but proved to be a talented instructor. Now near the end of the four-month training camp, the Ukrainian had qualified the Cuban team as one of the favorites to win the gold medal in Mexico.

A light westerly breeze helped dissipate the fog shortly after dawn, unveiling clear blue skies. Before noon, all four team members had scored five perfect landings on the target placed at the center of a large sand pit—a pattern that had repeated itself almost daily for several weeks. With only six days left for the Pan American event, the team appeared to be ready for a smashing victory. In retrospect, the weeks spent at the training camp away from home, the grueling physical workouts under the scorching sun, the constant push to perform the freefall maneuvers faster than the others, and the consistent precision landings on the four-inch target had yielded unprecedented results.

This would be Cuba’s second appearance at the Pan American competition, an event that was held every two years. Both military and civilian parachute teams from the continent would convene once again to test their skill against one another. And again, the team to beat at the event would be the U.S. Army Golden Knights, the undefeated Pan American champions.

The clock was ticking for the day the United States and Cuba’s teams would face off again, this time in the skies near the city of Tequesquitengo. Two years earlier, in Peru, the USA team defeated Cuba in the team accuracy event by a small margin of points. The Cubans would now have an opportunity to challenge the Golden Knights once again and reverse the results from Peru.

Nick repacked his Russian UT-15 parachute, grabbed a sandwich at the cafeteria and headed for the barracks to take his routine midday nap. Once again, his thoughts started to drift to a distant past. Seven years had gone by since the day he set out to become a skydiver with the sole purpose of escaping from the prison island. Now an accomplished competitor and three-time member of the Cuban national team, he had not wavered one iota from his determination to regain his freedom.

Seven years later, he thought. According to the bible, seven was indeed the number representing fulfilment. For him, it would be now or never.

--

The skydiver was about to doze off when he noticed Tolia storming into the barracks. The instructor halted momentarily to adjust his vision to the darkness, then headed straight towards Nick’s bunk. Thick drops of sweat were dripping down the Ukrainian’s chiseled face. Nick, pochemu ti niet Mexico—why are you not going to Mexico? Are you a hooligan?

A hooligan? Only on weekends, Nick joked. Toliaʹs impromptu foray has taken him totally by surprise.

Nick, Tolia is dead serious, said Kymbe, one of his teammates.

Tolia stood in place sweating profusely. Melo just told me that you are in trouble with the police and that you are no longer part of the national team. What have you done?

Tolia, I’m in shock. Someone made a terrible mistake.

It’s over, your replacement has already been named. The aeroclub decided that Raul will take your slot in the team and Enrique will travel as an alternate. The problem is that neither of those two men have the skills to win in Mexico. Cuba now has zero chances to get on the podium at the Pan Americans.

It took a few seconds for Toliaʹs words to sink in. The only police agency that could have ordered his removal from the team was the State security apparatus—the feared DSE. Did the DSE suspect that he intended to defect in Mexico? If that was true, how did they find out?

Three days earlier, the skydivers had a closed-door meeting with Lieutenant Tony Angulo, the Cuban intelligence officer in charge of the airport’s internal security. On that day, Angulo had dispensed them the compulsive political lecture that had preceded their previous overseas trips. And as usual, the officer had made them sign a document with the rules of engagement— everything the regime had decided they should or should not do or say during their stay in Mexico. Angulo made it clear that he would use that signed paper against them if any of the rules were violated.

However, nothing during that meeting indicated that he could be in trouble with the DSE. Whatever was that prompted his sudden separation from the team must have taken place within the past twenty-four to forty-eight hours.

The skydiver excused himself and stepped out of the barracks. He needed to collect his thoughts and find Melo, the political commissar at the airfield. The man who broke the news to the Ukrainian should be able to shed some light on the problem that had just turned his life upside down.

--

Nick found the door to Melo’s office ajar and stepped inside without bothering to knock. The political commissar and airport manager at San Nicolas was a former crop duster pilot who had been grounded a few years earlier after nearly losing his leg in a crash.

Melo, whatʹs going on? Tolia just told me that I am no longer part of the team. I didn’t appreciate hearing the news secondhand.

It was not up to me, Nick. I got a call from Luciano earlier today with orders to replace you with Raul, and to inform the Ukrainian right away. Your coach got overly excited when I told him. For a second, I thought he was going to punch me in the face. He seems to be very fond of you. Personally, I feel awful about your predicament.

Somebody screwed-up big time, Melo. This means the end for the team this year. Cuba will not win a single medal in Mexico. Is the State security apparatus behind this?

Melo nodded. It probably originated there, but I don’t have any details. Luciano wants you to pack your stuff and meet him at the club headquarters in Havana this afternoon. Once you arrive there you should learn what happened.

"Our shuttle bus doesn’t leave until later this evening.

How am I supposed to get there on time?"

No worries. I will talk to an inspector from the Civil Aeronautics Institute who is leaving for Havana in the next half hour or so. I’m sure he will give you a ride.

I’ll be ready in ten minutes. Hey, maybe we’ll have a beer together when I get out of the slammer.

Ha, good luck to you. Let me know if you get a new address. I’ll send you cigarettes, Melo joked.

Nick returned to the barracks and quickly emptied his locker into a duffle bag under the baffled stare of his teammates.

Itʹs the state security apparatus, Nick told them. I don’t know what they have on me now, but I’m not going down without a fight. Don’t count me out yet.

Give them hell, partner. We need you in Mexico, stammered Kymbe.

The implication that the State security was indeed involved made Kymbe quiver. The DSE was the most powerful authority in the land, second only to the Castro brothers and a handful of people in the communist party. With Nick now in their sights, their dreams of defeating the Golden Knights in Mexico had just gone up in smoke, Kymbe thought to himself.

--

It did not take long for Nick to spot the red Lada sedan parked in front of the airport offices with the engine running. As he neared the car, he observed the driver reaching over to unlock the passenger door.

Nick, my name is Marcos, said the man behind the wheel. I’ll give you a ride to the city.

Thank you.

Melo told him that his impromptu driver worked for the Civil Aeronautics Institute. However, the bulge on the man’s waist under his shirt revealed he was carrying a gun. In Cuba, the only people allowed to carry concealed weapons were high-ranking military officers and undercover agents from the Ministry of Interior.

Nick guessed that Marcos was a DSE agent dispatched to San Nicolas to drive him back to Havana. He made a mental note not to say a word about his predicament unless Marcos asked him. Marcos never did. The man kept his cover and spent the entire ride talking about the ongoing baseball season and switching stations on the Lada’s scratchy radio. If Nick’s assumptions were correct, Marcos would be taking a mental note of every word he said and watch his body language. There could also be a voice recorder hidden somewhere inside the vehicle.

The veil of secrecy surrounding his hasty removal from training camp was frightening. Nick needed some time to think and try to find an answer. He dug inside his duffle bag, grabbed his logbook and a pen, then went on to write the details of the jumps he made that morning. However, his mind was virtually racing at the speed of sound. He needed just one clue that could help him prepare for his defense before facing Luciano.

His thoughts transported him back to the fall of 1976, the fateful day when two Canadian skydivers showed up unannounced in Cuba. Since Nick was fluent in English, the club director had asked him to accompany the unexpected visitors to go skydiving at the drop zone in San Nicolas.

On their way back from San Nicolas, Nick had invited the Canadians for dinner at his home in Havana. Gabriel and Derek had expressed their interest in meeting Nickʹs parents when they learned that his father, Victor Daniels Nickolich, was an expat American engineer who had been living on the island for forty-some years.

That night at his home, Nick opened his heart to the Canadians and revealed to them his dissent with Castroʹs totalitarian regime. He also told them of his intentions to escape during Cuba’s participation in the next competition abroad. He hoped that his new friends might give him some ideas on how to accomplish that dangerous feat.

Nickʹs frankness prompted Gabriel to make a surprising revelation of his own. Gabriel had recently met an American jumper who worked as an aide to Henry Kissinger, the outgoing U.S. Secretary of State. He said that he could phone his friend in D.C. upon his return to Canada and talk to him about Nickʹs dilemma. The men concurred that if the American government was aware of his intentions ahead of time, they might help him break through the Cuban security in Mexico and ultimately help him get to freedom. They all concurred that the U.S. State Department would never turn their back on one of their own.

However, if the secret leaked and the Cubans were to find out, he would be arrested and sent to rot in prison for the rest of his life. Despite the risks involved, Nick gave the green light to Gabriel to contact his friend in Washington. He thought that he might not have such an opportunity ever again. That night, Nick scribbled a quick letter to his sister in the United States and gave it to Derek, who promised to mail it upon his return to his home in Vancouver Island.

--

Six months later, an unexpected change of events took place ninety miles north of Cuba. Shortly after getting elected as the 39th President of the United States, Jimmy Carter ordered the U.S. government to restore the long broken diplomatic ties with the regime of Fidel Castro.

While the news came as a shock to many freedom-loving people in Cuba, they were particularly disturbing to Nick. He wondered if he had made a mistake by sharing his secret with his Canadian friends ahead of time. In hindsight, it would have been wiser to wait until after his arrival in Mexico to contact a U.S. official. Nonetheless, it was already too late to undo the mistake.

Are you okay? asked Marcos. The man seemed to have noticed his deep state of introspection. Nick was still holding a pen in his hand but was no longer writing.

Iʹm fine. Just a little tired from todayʹs jumps.

Marcos glanced back at him from the corner of his eye and gave him a nod. His face reminded Nick of a hawk.

As the Russian-built sedan sped toward Havana, Nick felt a sudden chill running down his spine. Had the same people he sought help from double-crossed him? The likelihood that someone at the U.S. State Department had cozied up to the Cubans and leaked his intentions to defect became a daunting possibility. He braced himself for the worst.

Chapter 2

The first duty of a man is to think for himself.

José Martí

Nick was a quiet man of medium height and athletic build who loved sports, rock music and literature. When he was two years old, his family moved to a new home in the suburb called Biltmore, an upscale neighborhood in west Havana which Fidel Castro renamed Siboney after the revolution. It was a pleasant, densely wooded area not too far from the coast and cooled by a perennial ocean breeze.

A picture containing tree, grass, outdoor, plant Description automatically generated

Nickolich family residence, Havana Cuba.

By the end of 1960, the mass exodus that followed Castroʹs takeover had turned Siboney into a ghost town. For the next few years, the exclusive neighborhood remained mostly uninhabited until it was converted into an off-limits sanctuary for foreign embassies, diplomatic residences, and homes for Soviet bloc technical advisors working in Cuba. A handful of the top elitists in Castroʹs government—whom the people referred to as the Mayimbes—were also rewarded with beautiful homes in Siboney. Some of the larger residences were renovated as dormitories for a few hundred young women sent to study political indoctrination at a nearby school.

After practically forcing tens of thousands of people to leave the country, Fidel became the absolute landlord of every single inch of real estate on the island, including hundreds of lavish homes, mansions and ranches worth tens of millions of dollars.

Late in 1962, Nickʹs parents were one the few original proprietors still residing within two square miles south of the Fifth Avenue and the old University of Villanova campus. Most of their old neighbors had either left the country or were forced to relocate to less affluent neighborhoods throughout the city. Soon enough, the Nickolich family became a living relic of an era of prosperity cancelled by the Marxist regime.

In the years prior to Castro’s takeover, Nick attended St. Thomas Military Academy—a tough school that instilled stern discipline, moral values, and respect in the young cadets. The young man excelled in fencing and judo and became a competitive swimmer at the Comodoro Yacht Club. He also loved spending time in his home library. With dozens of books of every imaginable genre waiting to be explored, Nick immersed himself in a world of knowledge and exciting adventures. Over time, he developed a passion for the sciences and aspired to become an engineer like his father.

His dreams, however, vanished on the day Castro’s bearded rebels stomped into the streets of Havana. Soon enough, the impromptu government decided to shut down all private schools and replace them with a highly politicized public school system. Within months, the regime implemented a well-crafted Soviet-style indoctrination program that ran parallel to the academic curriculums. Political studies on Marxism and Leninism became mandatory subjects for all students from grade school to universities.

One of the first mandates of the new government was the shredding of all the history books printed before 1959. The new books covered only the years of Castroʹs armed insurgency, the advent of the new soviet-style regime, and a few censored recounts of the Cuban-Spanish war. With the stroke of his pen, Castro erased decades of historical facts from the country’s prolific past. Also, scores of relevant personalities and political leaders, those who had indeed forged the islandʹs identity and rich heritage, were wiped-out from Cuba’s recorded history.

The images and statues of Jesus Christ, the Virgin Mary and all catholic saints suffered a similar fate. They were replaced with portraits and busts of Marx, Engels, Stalin, Lenin and Mao Zedong, alien philosophers and dictators of whom most Cubans have never heard of before. Everyone on the island had no choice but to render homage to the new secular gods and to keep their personal faith and beliefs secret. Those who dared not to comply with the rules of idolatry became victims of verbal attacks and physical beatings by the mobs. Many were imprisoned without a trial.

Nick had no choice but to fake his submission to the new rules of the land. His survival in that toxic environment depended on keeping a low profile until he could find a way out. The family’s hope to leave Cuba, however, was shattered the day he turned fifteen years old and became of military age. They had waited too long hoping for Castro’s regime to either implode or be overthrown. This left them stuck on the prison island without a foreseeable way out.

Despite the relentless efforts by the school to make him a political activist, Nick managed to stay uncommitted. He never said yes or no to the communist recruiters, using lack of time as an excuse to avoid getting dragged into their scheme. The political commissars eventually gave up on him, but there would be consequences down the road. Compromised political activism was the very core of the Marxist society and those who stayed on the fence were marked as anti-social elements. People in Cuba had to either give their full support Castro, or they were out.

The widespread insanity that took over his country intrigued Nick from the beginning of Castro’s regime. Why had