[104-10164-10099.pdf — page 33]
# "I am going to declare war"It had been a long time since Dr. Orlando Bosch had talked to a reporter. He had been a fugitive for three years-ever since he boasted he was going "underground to direct the internationalization of the war" against his one-time comrade Fidel Castro. Sometimes, as he flew from one Latin American capital to another, he would forget what name he had decided to use and would begin fumbling among his four phony passports.He had once been a practicing pediatrician, first in Cuba, then in Miami, but for more than 20 years now the tools of his real trade had been instruments of death-plastic explosives, rifles and bazookas. He led a group of Cuban exiles Implicated in some 150 bombings and some 50 murders in the last two years (New Times, October 29, 1976). His group had been linked to the car-bomb assassination of Chilean exile leader. Orlando Latelier in Washington, D.C., last September, and now he was under arrest In Caracas, Venezuela, charged with ordering the bombing of a Cuban commer. cial airliner last October 6, which killed 73 people. He is one of the most famous terrorists in the world.A tall, heavy-set man with thick glasses, he was sitting in the sun in the Caracas prison when I walked up to him."Dr. Bosch?" I asked hesitantly."Yes?" he replied.I introduced myself as a reporter from New York. Ho squinted as ho carefully looked me over."How did you get in here?" he asked susplulously.I told him I had called his lawyer two weeks hefure and been told to vome down to Venestusta. Ily the time I arrived, his lawyer had gine on vacation and I couldn't reach him. I was in despair, I'd flown 3,000 miles for nothing.By Blake Fleetwood![photo of Orlando Bosch]Orlando Bosch is in a Venezuelan jail, charged with ordering the bombing of a Cuban plane in which 73 people died. In an exclusive interview, he talks about his years as a terrorist, his secret alliances with Latin American governments and his plans to get even with the "traitors" who put him in jallIt seemed that it would be impossible to see Bosch. I knew that Joanne Omang of the Washington Post had spent weeks in Caracas trying to see Bosch and hadn't been successful. In desperation I had called another lawyer, who surprised me with a simple suggestion. "Tomorrow is visiting day," he said. "Be there at 8 a.m. and maybe you can get in."At eight the next morning, I showed up at the prison gates and saw two lines of visitors waiting to enter the prison. On the left were about 300 women burdened down with baskets of fruit, pies, cakes and fresh linen for their imprisoned menfolk. To the right stood the four male visitors to the prison. In a tew minutes the line started to move and I followed along. I passed a table where someone asked me for my cédula. Although I understand some Spanish, this was not a word I knew. Everyone else! handed him what looked like an I.D. card, so I took out my passport. He took it and gave me a small plastic stub. One of the geards, who spoke a rough, courr try Spanish that was dificult to understand, told me to put down my briefcase and ushered me into email bathroom where I was frisked. Then my briefcase was quickly searched and headed back to me. I followed the other four men: through two barred gatea. And suddenly I realized I was in the prison-at liberty, to find Busch among the kalinging pilioners. I erxed one of the more respectabia looking prisoner's where I could finil Orlando Bosch."You're in the wrong place altogether. I'll take you to him." And he did-through endless corridors and ceil blocks, We ended up in a sundit courtyard in a coullon of the prison reserved: for special prisoners. He pointed to a man 20 fest away, as if he didn't want to