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The Cuban economy was hurting from both the natural weakness of socialist control and the artificial suffering caused by the American-led economic blockade. The CIA would attempt through selective sabotage to drive the Cubans further into economic despair. Beyond its own operations, the CIA would consider helping Cuban exiles and other Latin governments in running their own operations against Castro.

In the first week of February 1962, Aleksei Adzhubei, the editor-in-chief of Izvestiya, arrived at the White House. To the Soviets, journalism was an adjunct to government, and Adzhubei brought with him the Soviet agent Georgi Bolshakov, who was also editor-in-chief of USSR magazine. Even if Adzhubei had not been Khrushchev’s son-in-law, his discussion with the president would have been far more important than simply an interview with the most important Soviet journalist.

Adzhubei had just returned from spending six hours talking with Castro, and inevitably the discussion turned to Cuba. For the most part, according to the American account of the lengthy meeting, the two men discussed the situation like acquaintances talking about a troublesome neighbor. The Soviet official “wondered whether the United States realized that by its unfriendly attitude toward Castro it was pushing Cuba farther and farther away.” The president, for his part, tried to make Adzhubei understand the American perspective. The United States had never had such an enemy so close to its borders, and when Castro yelled his disdain within shouting distance, Americans were bound to be upset.

Kennedy compared the situation to Hungary, where the Soviets had put down the Hungarian revolution. The president may only have been trying to make a casual analogy, but if Cuba was America’s Hungary, then Castro would soon see American tanks in the streets. Kennedy later recalled that in the meeting after lunch, at which the American interpreter was not present, Adzhubei “wondered whether the U.S. would prefer Cuba to develop into a state like Yugoslavia or have it drift in the direction of China.” That was a startling analogy for the Russian to make, since Tito’s independent socialism was anathema to the Soviets. It suggested that the Soviets might not have wanted the burden of a quasi-satellite six thousand miles from Moscow. Adzhubei went on to complain to the president about all the money the Soviets were pouring into Cuba and all the unnecessary sugar they were buying, primarily because of their fears of an American invasion. The Russian asked the president whether he was planning to invade, and Kennedy said no, he was not.

In diplomacy, words must be used with mathematical precision, their meanings universally understood. Khrushchev, for his part, often sounded like an intemperate blusterer, but a careful look at his words reveals that he usually said precisely what he wanted to say, making the Soviet position indisputably clear. Kennedy, despite his immense rhetorical gifts, sometimes said less or more than he meant to, sending signals he did not mean to send.

Men could die for a word not said, or a message misunderstood. During a meeting in Moscow Salinger was told that the Soviets gave the English text to five interpreters. When the Russian text of the meeting was translated back into English by five other translators, they had five different interviews. Adzhubei’s own personal take on the meeting was the most important of all, and it was given directly to Khrushchev, his father-in-law. Life is in the nuances, and it was Adzhubei’s recollection of the tone of the meeting more than the words that mattered.

“Have you changed your opinion that the April 1961 invasion was an American mistake?” Adzhubei said that he asked Kennedy. The president did not like having his nose rubbed in that odorous mess any longer, not by Americans and certainly not by Soviets.

“At the time I called Allen Dulles into my office and dressed him down,” the president said, pounding his fist on the table.