"Gregory, you would have made a great Pope if you had listened to Father O'Brien. You and Ronald both forgot that man does best when he serves his Higher Self, not when he attempts to bend that Higher Self to the will of the lower self."
"I'm not sure it's that simple, Anthony. You always saw things in simple terms. I just never could look at things like that."
"Still feel that way?"
MacArthur smiled wryly. “I wouldn't exactly call all of this ‘simple,’ Anthony."
"Well, actually, it is."
The Pope sighed yet again. “I'm too tired to argue with you over this again, Anthony. Let's just agree to disagree."
Angelino smiled.
* * * *
EUGENE CROWLEY FELT trapped. If what Angelino had revealed to him about Jesus was true—and Jesus had essentially confirmed it was by his little speech about mankind's evil—he had forged an alliance with the devil. There was nothing he could do now. Was it really all that bad? he rationalized. He realized ironically that he and Jesus shared much in common. Both cared about power above all else and understood the key to power was found in the wholesale purchase of the gratitude of the people.
He had always been suspicious of philosophies that encouraged one to be kind to those who would do you harm. That had always struck Crowley as naive. Turning the other cheek only offered someone the opportunity to strike it. It did not deter someone intent on doing harm to another. Only force was a true deterrent against one who had the intention to harm you.
As Crowley contemplated the events of the past months, he convinced himself that profiting from the ignorance of the masses was not the worst thing a person could do. If one provided what the masses wanted, where was the injustice of reaping a reward for that?
On the other hand, gnawing doubt ate away at him. He was no match for Jesus, and the only way to profit from an association with him was to maintain a posture of supplication. If Jesus was truly who—what—he had been revealed to be, what choice did he have? Crowley was not used to taking the subordinate role, yet there was no other option for him. With reluctance tempered by pragmatism, Crowley decided to make the best of this alliance. He seriously doubted Angelino and the others could ever seriously challenge the combined forces of the United States government, Jesus, and the Council of Most Highs. He was not going to reveal the truth to his staff or other members of his administration. Crowley wanted to be on the winning side. If that side was the side of the devil himself, so be it.
With that crisis of faith settled in his mind, President Crowley convened the meeting of the Joint Chiefs of Staff that Jesus had requested. It had been postponed by Hatcher's death.
"Gentlemen, we have a clear military threat forming in the Middle East,” Jesus said.
Murmurs of surprise rippled through the group.
Four star General Corby Musgrave responded. “Our satellite data indicates nothing of any military significance in the region, Jesus. What is the source of your information?"
"My source is the highest authority, General,” Jesus said casually. “Your satellite data is wrong."
Musgrave swung his gaze from Jesus to Crowley, who looked a bit in over his head, and back to Jesus before replying. “Forgive me, Jesus but the satellite data is most certainly not wrong, I assure you."
"I do not like being contradicted, General,” Jesus said coldly. “I do not care what your satellite data says, Israel is amassing to attack Syria, Lebanon, and Jordan, and I have reason to believe Iran after that, and maybe Iraq as well."
"That makes no sense,” Crowley said. “Why would Israel attack Iran? Iran is no threat to it."
"The reasons do not concern me, Mr. President,” Jesus said.
"But Israel is our ally. She would not make such a move without consulting us. She is too heavily dependent upon the money we provide her to jeopardize that for some foolish military adventure. Besides, Israel knows her international support is marginal. She has angered much of the world with her actions against the Palestinians in recent months. It simply does not make any sense for Israel to move on Syria, or any other neighboring country for that matter."
"I have to concur with the Commander In Chief on that, Jesus,” said Navy Secretary Admiral Ralston. There have always been elements within the Israeli army who would like nothing better than to strike out at those who oppose Israel's right to exist. But the government itself is aware of the need to keep its head and adhere to the treaties it has committed itself to. This is especially true while the question of the disputed lands won in the 1967 war is being negotiated."
Jesus paced back and forth, deep in thought, his hands behind his back. Finally he said, “I suggest you call the Israeli ambassador here at once. Let us get to the bottom of this. We will be able to find out the truth."
"Jesus, that would be a serious breach of protocol. To merely summon Ambassador Gerash like that would be a serious insult to him and his country."
"Then tell him the matter is urgent. Do not summon him. Request his presence. Tell him you require his advice. That should smooth things."
Crowley hesitated. Something was not right about all of this. He knew he was assessing the situation correctly. Jesus was obviously attempting to force a confrontation with Israel. But why?
Jesus said, “Mr. President?"
Crowley avoided meeting his eye. He turned to Harvey Thatcher and said, “Harv, get the Ambassador here."
Thatcher, realizing to protest would be fruitless, left the room to make the call.
* * * *
"WE'RE SHUTTING DOWN the entire division, Steven,” Warrenger said. “It's nothing personal. Your work has been deeply appreciated."
Steven's face flushed a deep purple as he struggled to contain his rage. “Why, David? Why are you doing this?"
"I told you. It's purely a business decision. We lost a lot of money on this project and the stockholders are getting nervous."
"What are you talking about? This project is funded by a government grant. It's a profit center for you. We've even been operating under budget."
"I know it seems hard to understand. INTELINC has a complex business structure. One department affects another and another—it's very complex. That's why I have an entire law firm on retainer."
"Don't talk to me like I'm a child, David. This isn't about money. I don't know what's going on here but I know that much. You were all fired up about the project, like the rest of us. This was more than just a profit making venture for you."
Warrenger remained silent, apparently not feeling compelled to tell Steven the purpose of his work was finished and he had no more need for his or John's talents. Steven stared him down for a moment and then said, “Well?"
"My decision is final. I've written you and John letters of recommendation. You'll have no problem finding work."
"For Christ's sake, David,” he exploded, “This isn't about job security. John and I have poured out lifeblood into this project.” He added softly, “It's the only thing we have."
Warrenger tapped his pen on the desk a few times as if in thought, but his face betrayed otherwise.
"My decision is final. I'm sorry.” He lifted his head to meet Steven's gaze. Steven could only glare back at him without speaking.
At that moment, John came bursting in. “What the hell is this about shutting down the project?” he bellowed. He saw Steven's aggressive stance and the anger in his eyes and said, “So it's true."
"Thank you for your time, Steven,” Warrenger said dismissively.
"You talk to him, John. I'm getting out of here. The smell is bothering me.” He whirled and stormed out of the room, slamming the door against the wall as he opened it on his way out.
* * * *
SAUL GERASH did not particularly appreciate being summoned at this hour of the evening. So he was in a sour mood when he entered the cabinet room. He was surprised to see the entire Joint Chief Of Staff present. What was going on here? Then he thought with horror, Israel must be under at
tack.
Crowley rose to greet the ambassador.
"Mr. Ambassador, thank you for coming. I apologize for the lateness of the hour and the suddenness of my call."
Gerash nodded. “What can I do for you, Mr. President?"
"Mr. Ambassador, I don't believe you have met Jesus yet."
Gerash and Jesus exchanged a formal greeting. So this was the famous Jesus. Gerash saw that he was a commanding presence, indeed. A bit colder than he might have expected, though.
"Is this a war council?” Gerash asked.
"Oh, heavens, no, Mr. Ambassador,” Crowley said lightly. “There are some things that concern us, however, and we thought perhaps you could help us sort through them."
Jesus said forcefully, “Are you or are you not amassing for a full scale attack against Syria, Mr. Gerash?"
The Israeli diplomat's eyes blinked in shock. The rest of those in the room squirmed uncomfortably at the rude directness of Jesus’ question. An interminable silence hung over the room. Harvey Thatcher, who had a good relationship with the ambassador—he considered him a good friend, in fact—winced.
"What?” he finally managed to sputter. “This is outrageous,” he seethed.
Jesus walked slowly over to him. He towered over the shorter Gerash. He was using his height to intimidate the smaller man. It had the opposite affect on the ambassador, however, who had long ago learned not to let that tactic work.
"How dare you make such an accusation. What evidence do you have to support this charge?"
All eyes were now on Jesus. How was he going to make this stick?
"Is it true?” he said coldly.
Gerash moved away from Jesus and directed himself to the president. “Mr. President, what have I done which compels you to allow this person to slander me like this? Have I ever been anything less than totally candid with you about our military movements?"
Crowley lowered his eyes. The ambassador had, indeed, been an honest man to deal with.
Gerash struggled to make sense of the situation. He was in the presence of the most powerful men in the world and they were all cowering before this Jesus. It was not out of deference or respect. It was more like surrender. No one in the room was going to speak up in his defense.
Why was Jesus making this accusation when he must have known it was preposterous? Then he was hit with a sudden shocking thought. What if it was true and he was being kept in the dark, much as Andre Gromyko had been kept in the dark by his superiors in Moscow when the Soviets had deployed offensive nuclear weapons to Cuba in 1962? His mind raced rapidly, formulating a plausible explanation if one proved to be necessary. What did Jesus and the Americans know that he didn't? He forced himself to respond calmly, although he could not entirely mask the anger he was feeling.
"I deny your charges, Jesus and again ask you what evidence you have to support them."
"You deny it?” Jesus said, smiling slyly.
Jesus walked back to the head of the conference table and picked up the pile of satellite photos they had been studying earlier. He walked back over to Gerash and threw the photos on the table directly in front of him, scattering them so everyone could see them. A collective gasp emanated from everyone at the long table.
"Then how do you explain these, Mr. Ambassador?” Jesus said with triumph.
"I don't understand,” Musgrave said. “That wasn't there before."
Jesus shot Musgrave a hard glance to silence him.
Crowley looked incredulously at Jesus, whose face carried a triumphant smile. The photos now showed troop deployments and activity at the Israeli air bases. It was a clear mobilization for war.
Gerash picked up a handful of the photos and studied them with disbelief and horror. What were they thinking back in Tel Aviv?
"How do you explain those, Mr. Gerash?"
"These must be faked,” Gerash said lamely.
Jesus turned toward General Musgrave. “General, are these photos authentic?"
Musgrave picked up a large magnifying glass and peered intently at one of the photos. His face bore an expression of confusion, but he conceded, “This is authentic, Mr. Ambassador. I'm not sure how, but it's no fake."
"What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Ambassador?” Jesus said.
"I don't like your tone, sir,” Gerash flared.
"My tone is not the issue here, Ambassador."
Gerash found himself lowering into the nearest chair. This was too much to absorb. Should he admit his ignorance or attempt a bluff? It didn't make any sense. Israel was much too weak to embark on such a military adventure. The balance of power had changed since earlier wars. But if Israel were to begin a campaign of aggression, she would surely find herself isolated. There would be no allies and, more importantly, no American financial assistance. He wondered if his old friend Prime Minister Ishmael Sahrat had possibly gone mad. Had the hawks in the Knesset finally won the argument? Or worse, had some sort of quiet coup taken hold?
He finally decided the best course was to admit his ignorance, but would they believe him?
"I have to confess to you in all candor I knew nothing of this."
"Come now, Ambassador,” Jesus said, is voice dripping with condescension. “Do you mean to tell us a movement as sweeping as this was kept from you?"
Gerash could only shrug and say, “I'm afraid that is the case, Jesus. I am as perplexed as the rest of you are."
"I see.” Jesus decided not to press the matter. He had made his main point, convincing the men in this room the charge was true. Gerash was of no importance to his plan beyond being conduit of information between him and his country.
"Mr. President,” Gerash finally said after a long, tense silence. “What do you plan to do?"
Crowley considered the question for a moment and answered, “I want you to inform the Prime Minister the United States will not support such aggression in the region. We have many economic interests tied to our oil supply routes there. We cannot sit still while your country embarks on this course of action."
Gerash nodded his understanding. “Let me make some phone calls, Mr. President. If these photos are accurate,” he was looking directly at Jesus as he said that, “perhaps our mobilization is in response to Syrian or Jordanian mobilizations."
"As you can see, Mr. Gerash,” Jesus said, “there are no such movements by any of the bordering territories of Israel. It is clear this is a unilateral movement by your country."
Gerash seemed to ignore him as he said to Crowley, “May I go make those calls now, Mr. President?"
"Yes, certainly,” Crowley responded. “Harvey will make sure you get all the help you need. Please keep us advised."
"I will, Mr. President.” He and Thatcher left the cabinet meeting room.
"Mr. President,” General Musgrave said, once they had left. “We might have to intervene militarily if Israel makes this move. We cannot allow a full-scale war in that region. We've been sitting on a powder keg there for decades and all of Israel's enemies have been just waiting for just this kind of excuse to justify a surgical strike against her."
Crowley nodded. “I want a series of reconnaissance flights to commence immediately over the region. I want hourly reports."
"Yes, sir,” Musgrave agreed. “I'll get right on it."
"Alright, gentlemen. We have work to do. Let's reconvene here tonight at 6 PM."
The room emptied, leaving Jesus and Crowley alone.
Jesus took a seat at the head of the table. He studied Crowley intently. Would he remain loyal?
Crowley broke the silence. “What exactly is going on here, Jesus? We all saw those photos. There was nothing on them earlier. Then suddenly they were filled with troop movements."
"Do you deny the evidence of your own eyes, Mr. President?"
"In this case, I think I do. You altered those photos somehow, didn't you?"
A strange smile crossed Jesus’ lips. “Just for the sake of argument, Mr. President, let's assume I did. What difference
would it make?"
"What difference would it make?” Crowley asked incredulously. “It would just be the difference between war and peace, that's all."
Jesus nodded as if that were the answer he expected. He remained silent for a moment, apparently deep in thought. Then he said, “There are times when a cleansing war is necessary, Mr. President."
"A ‘cleansing’ war?"
Jesus nodded. “Yes. Look how much energy and resources are wasted on the Mideast just because of the threat of hostilities. The entire region spends billions of dollars that would better be spent on the things we have agreed need to be done in this world. This will continue until either war is fought, or peace—not the absence of hostilities, but a true peace of mutual cooperation—occurs. Peace is not likely, when you consider the thousands of years of history of hatred that has existed between the Jews and the Arabs. That leaves either the status quo, or war. It is better to release the pressure now than to allow it to build up even further. We cannot afford to wait for these things to happen. We have important work to do and we cannot afford to be distracted by having to monitor fire fights all over the globe."
Crowley wasn't sure whether to be impressed or horrified. On the one hand, there was something to what Jesus was saying about the drain on resources and the perpetual state of hostilities. On the other hand, he was cold-bloodedly speaking of genocide. Crowley had always believed war in the Mideast was inevitable. Perhaps Jesus was right. Manipulate events while you have the power to control them.
But did anyone have that kind of power? Could one truly control the dogs of war once they had been unleashed? America had made that error in Vietnam, much to its perpetual regret. He knew the one man who did have such power was opposite him.
"What happens now?” Crowley asked, knowing he was powerless to thwart Jesus’ plans.
"We wait to see what Israel does and we share these photos with Jordan and Syria."
Crowley nodded in resignation.
* * * *
JUST AS THE meeting of the Joint Chiefs had waited the appropriate period of time to convene, so had the filibuster of Harold Bennett resumed. Arnold Wills and Ray Cutler were both present in the Senate gallery to lend moral support. Ray resolved that even if no one else would report on the filibuster, he would. Whatever Angelino had done to ensure Stuart Hatcher's filibuster had been uncensored worldwide; it remained in place for Harold as well.
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