{"id":264865,"date":"2026-07-15T02:30:24","date_gmt":"2026-07-14T23:30:24","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/killing-che-chuck-pfarrer-1\/"},"modified":"2026-07-15T02:30:24","modified_gmt":"2026-07-14T23:30:24","slug":"killing-che-chuck-pfarrer-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/killing-che-chuck-pfarrer-1\/","title":{"rendered":"Killing Che – Chuck Pfarrer (1)"},"content":{"rendered":"
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\u201cAs do you. That is why I propose a trade.\u201d Diminov exhaled though his nose. \u201cArquero is your stooge, is he not? Pay him money and have Fr\u00e4ulein V\u00fcnke released.\u201d \u201cWhat\u2019s in it for me?\u201d \u201cChe Guevara, as you say, on a platter.\u201d \u201cWhat makes you think we don\u2019t already know where he is?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause he\u2019s alive. You know some of the places he has been. And you suspect some of the places he may go in the future. But you have not located him. If you had, it would be a simple thing to drop napalm on him.\u201d \u201cYou want this woman released, I get more than a circle drawn on a map.\u201d \u201cWhat else do you need, Mr. Hoyle?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI want his radio frequencies and his communication plan with Havana.\u201d Diminov put down the fruit. \u201cHow do you expect me\u2014\u201d \u201cI\u2019m not done. We know there\u2019s going to be a rendezvous. Two more men are being sent to the guerrillas. I get this fr\u00e4ulein of yours released, and she guides them in direct to the main camp.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoyle stood. Sergev kept the pistol aimed. \u201cThat\u2019s preposterous.\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s the deal. Take it or leave it.\u201d \u201cShe is released\u2014alive\u2014and we will continue our discussion.\u201d Diminov wiped his hands on the tablecloth. \u201cSince it is I who have found you, if you wish contact, place an ad in the classified section of La Paz Tiempo. Perhaps asking Saint Jude to help you find lost love.\u201d The religious allusion made Diminov smile. \u201cI will contact you here at this hotel.<\/p>\n

You seem to like this place.\u201d Diminov nodded, and Sergev and the man with the truncheon walked out. \u201cYou burn me, and I\u2019ll make sure she disappears.\u201d \u201cDon\u2019t do anything rash, Mr. Hoyle,\u201d Diminov said. \u201cWe don\u2019t have to be enemies on this one.\u201d The fat man pulled the door closed behind him. OceanofPDF.com LIGHT SLANTED THROUGH the windows in Colonel Arquero\u2019s grand office. The clock ticked slowly, and Lieutenant Casta\u00f1eda stood by the door, as immobile and unthinking as a piece of furniture. Hoyle and Smith watched the colonel frown over the folder placed before him.<\/p>\n

He examined each of the three photographic prints, holding them close to his shiny pince- nez spectacles, then checking each photograph against a typed transcript of the microdot. This he did with deliberate and self-conscious care, and the clock ticked through diligence to insolence and finally to absurdity. It was a blessing when Arquero\u2019s small hands pushed the photos and papers back into the folder and he squinted up from the blotter. \u201cThis is obviously a ruse,\u201d he said. \u201cA provocation.<\/p>\n

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What follows is a novel. Some of its characters are real, and some are not. As a courtesy to the living, a few names have been altered; the names of others I have not changed, out of respect for their heroism. I have drawn liberally from Che Guevara\u2019s own campaign diary, as well as the notes, letters, and accounts of the comrades who lived, fought, and perished along with him and his dream.<\/p>\n

They alone know what really happened. The rest of us are left to marvel. OceanofPDF.com OceanofPDF.com OceanofPDF.com 1 THE PLACE WAS not perfect. This was not where he\u2019d wanted to fight, not on this road, and not on this hillside, which was mostly barren and lit fully by the afternoon sun. Che Guevara had not wished to ambush the truck in the first place, but the soldiers in it had seen the forward element as they were drawing water from the stream next to the road, and the engagement was sharp and fast.<\/p>\n

Guevara had cursed when the lead column blundered close to the road, and he was furious when he heard the pop pop pop of rifles firing ahead of him. Guevara trotted past the burning truck, and the reek of flaming tires wafted over him, sharp and acrid. Some of the smoke was white, but most of it was black and rising in a dense, greasy pillar above the mountain road and into a vividly cloudless sky. By the time Guevara reached the place where the stream cut under the road, he guessed that perhaps a hundred bullets had been fired into the cab alone\u2014a quarter blasted through the windshield\u2014and as the driver lost control, the truck had lurched off the turn, smashing over a low guardrail but somehow remaining upright.<\/p>\n

Guevara had splashed out of the culvert in time to see the bodies of the driver and the passenger dragged from the cab. Their heads lolled, and the heels of their boots made white marks across the road as the corpses were hidden next to the stream.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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