“Calm yourself!” His Majesty demanded. “Yes, we have done well by Allah, the almighty and all merciful, but it is never a great thing to have killed so many of his children at once, even if they are infidels! It is a sad day for mankind! Sad that it had to come to this. It will be even sadder when our next step is activated.”
He took a deep breath and continued, “I want numbers! I want to know what the West feels the impact of this will be on them economically. I also want to know if our mission coordinator survived. Now go and find these things out and act civilized!” he ordered curtly.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the man said as His Majesty hung up the phone. Yes, it was very good news. The attack was far more successful than he had hoped. He only hoped that it was not so successful that the Western world declared an all-out war on the Muslim world.
He would have to make sure the Brotherhood sent appropriate instructions to their emissary in Washington, so that the United States would spend months debating the issue and then respond only through diplomatic channels—in other words, no response at all. By the time they made an actual decision, they would be facing another tragedy in their own country, draining the country’s resolve and financial strength!
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
“Jesus Christ Almighty! How did this happen?” President Starks screamed at the National Security Council members. “How does a handful of uneducated sand niggers infiltrate a country like Germany and then completely incinerate one of its major cities? How?” Several of the council members looked away when Starks described the terrorists so colorfully. Their sense of political correctness was such that even here, behind closed doors and in the most secret of spaces, they were still uncomfortable with racial slurs.
“The Germans only have preliminary information at this time. But it appears that the terrorists may have been long-time legal immigrants and had planned this attack over several years,” the National Security chairman, Benjamin Klinghoffer, explained. “The terrorists knew all of the shipping schedules, the loading and unloading procedures. They had access to the security plans for the terminal, and they were trained in how to navigate a ship that large up the river to the city center.” He neglected to mention that they had done the same thing to the United States just seven months previous.
“So what does this mean? Are the Islamic extremists going all out now? Can we expect that we will have more attacks on our soil?” the president asked, even though earlier today, he’d had the briefing about the possible attack scheduled for Chicago on the upcoming July Fourth holiday.
“I think it means that they are getting smarter and targeting infrastructure and not just random places where large civilian casualties are possible,” Bascome stated the obvious.
“This attack has almost completely destroyed Germany’s ability to conduct business. It was their main port and rail facility. Oil and natural gas was shipped through there across northern Europe, and one hundred percent of Germany’s consumer goods were shipped through there, as well,” Secretary of the Treasury Hobart explained. “It will take Germany years to recover! It just may sink the European Union.”
“The attack also affects Poland, the Czech Republic, Austria, Hungary, Luxembourg and France. They will also take a big hit, economically. Hamburg was the distribution point for their consumables, as well. France lost a huge Airbus plant in Hamburg, which will delay airline orders the world over,” the Secretary of State, Rhonda Wilkes, stated.
“Do we know if these guys were working alone or with a group who’ll take credit, or maybe for someone else we haven’t even thought of?” the president inquired.
“Typically, these terrorist groups work independently but with some support from groups like Al-Qaeda or Hamas, Iran or Libya. Hell, even the Saudis are suspected of financing some these radicals,” John Massey, the Secretary for Homeland Security spoke up.
“What about someone like Russia or China? Could they have been behind this?” President Starks asked, though he didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “After all, Russia needs oil prices to be above seventy dollars a barrel to survive, and what better way to force prices up than to create a huge international crisis?” the president suggested.
“I suppose that could be a possibility,” Bascome interjected following the president’s lead. “Germany and the rest of Europe will now have to depend on Russia to supply them with natural gas until they can rebuild or create a new port and distribution center. I doubt Germany can even begin to do it within the next five years, and completion will be decades away. This is a gold mine for the Russians. I’d bet they were behind it, because they’ve made no secret of the fact that they hate the Germans for their betrayal during World War Two. What better way to get back at them?”
“As of this morning, the Euro has completely collapsed,” Secretary Hobart mentioned. “The G7 are calling for emergency meetings and are offering to buy paper currency from Germany and supply them with gold, which is about the only stable commodity of value at the moment!
“Most of the major currencies have also tanked this morning, but the good news is that the dollar actually increased slightly in value in the wake of this disaster, though the Chinese Yuan is outpacing the dollar by more than two to one,” Hobart finished with his so-called good news.
“Roger may have a point there,” President Starks stated, ignoring the Treasury Secretary and his comments.
“Other than a security camera picture of one man at a harbor master’s office, they have no proof that it even was the radical Islamists. John, I want you and the FBI, NSA and CIA to look into this angle. Don’t bother looking for the usual suspects because I firmly believe that Putin and his pals could and would do this type of thing. It is far too sophisticated for the Arabs, in my opinion!” the president said, then asked, “General Hatcher, I’d like to offer assistance to Germany in the cleanup effort and with peacekeeping if needed. How quickly can we mobilize a couple of brigades in Iraq and move them over to Germany?”
“What?” The general, now chairman of the Joint Chiefs after General Clarett retired and a career army man, almost choked on the question.
“You heard me, General. I want two brigades moved to Germany from Iraq, ASAP.”
“Sir, with all due respect, I’d highly recommend not doing anything like that, sir.”
“What is the problem? Everybody keeps telling me we’re winning in Iraq, so move the troops!” the president stated emphatically.
“Sir, in my estimation that would be foolish. The Iraqi theater of operations is slowly stabilizing, but suddenly yanking out that many of our troops would cause a power vacuum. The different factions would attempt to fill the void by attacking each other, and all the money, work and lives that have gone into the war thus far would be for nothing,” the general stated equally emphatically.
“If the country falls into disarray, it leaves it open to subversion by the Islamic radicals. Hell, Iran might even invade Iraq if we leave before the Iraqi government is ready.” General Hatcher tried once again to explain why the troops needed to stay in Iraq. He’d had this conversation with President Starks on five occasions already, and he’d only been the chairman of the Joint Chiefs for six months. The man just kept on trying to force him to remove the troops regardless of the consequences.
“General, the American public doesn’t want our troops in Iraq, and I for one don’t want to disappoint our wonderful citizens. Tell the Iraqis that we’re pulling those troops out, and they need to sink or swim on their own. It’s been almost a year since I took office, and I ran on a platform of ending the war, and I’m damn well going to do it! Now, move those troops, or I’ll get me a general who will! Is that understood?” the president spat.
“Yes, sir,” the general replied without making eye contact as he seethed.
“What about the troops in Afghanistan?” Bascome asked, causing the general to turn towards him and stare daggers at the man.
“I still expect those troops to mov
e out at the end of July, as well, General.”
“Yes, sir,” the general acknowledged curtly, his rage boiling just under the surface.
“A thought just occurred to me Mr. President,” the Secretary for Homeland Security, John Massey, spoke up. “Could the attack on us last fall be related to the attack in Hamburg? Both of the attacks were directed at oil and gas facilities, and both attacks destroyed a city. I wonder if they’ll attack a German shopping mall tomorrow.”
“You could be right,” the president stated, surprise showing on his face at the man’s suggestion. It was almost as if Massey had been briefed on the direction that Starks and Bascome had wanted the discussion to take. Perhaps Massey was finally catching on and wasn’t quite the dumbass Starks had figured him for.
“I want the CIA and the State Department to contact their counterparts in Germany,” Starks quickly picked up on the idea and ran with it. “Warn them that the two attacks could be related and that we feel they need to be on guard for another attack today. I also want our tragedy in Houston looked at with new eyes for any Russian involvement, John.” Starks addressed Massy by his first name as an “atta boy” for his suggestion.
“It could be tied to the Hamburg blast,” the president mumbled as he looked at the wall clock, and then blurted out, “Damn, it’s already tomorrow over there, so let’s get on it, ladies and gentlemen!” Starks then rose and left the room. Bascome and Combs followed him out as the Secretary of State made notes on her PDA and the new directors of the FBI and the CIA (both of whom were supposed to be close friends of the president’s) stepped into the corner and talked in whispers. After a few minutes, they called over John Massey, another supposed close friend and confidante of the president’s, and they spoke with him in hushed tones as well.
General Hatcher sat quietly, making some notes while the room emptied. He finally looked up and found General Nathan Gilum, the Marine Corps Commandant and Admiral Arthur Twilling of the Navy standing by the door and looking at him.
“Gentlemen?” the general asked.
“We’d like you to take a ride with us, General, if you have the time. We need to talk,” Admiral Twilling spoke quietly once he was sure the rest of the NSC was out of earshot.
“I’ve got a mess to deal with, gentlemen,” General Hatcher replied unenthusiastically as a way to pass on their offer.
“That’s what we need to talk about, General,” General Gilum stated.
After looking at his watch, General Hatcher replied, “I guess I could use a ride back to the Pentagon.” He then picked up his papers and followed his two co-workers and friends out of the Situation Room to the waiting limousine.
Once they had driven away from the White House, General Hatcher asked, “All right then, what’s on your mind?”
“Jack, the president has no right to change policy on a whim like that. The man completely ignored your opinion and refuses to accept that there are some things he’s got to see through whether he likes the policy or not. Hell, he voted for the expansion of the war when it was before Congress. He was the vice chairman of the Senate Committee on Intelligence, and his was the loudest voice chastising the previous administration when he didn’t want to continue the war. His committee claimed that the weapons of mass destruction were there, just like the Bush administration had claimed at the start of the war,” Admiral Twilling stated curtly.
“The guy is a total asshole, if you ask me,” General Gilum added. “He thinks the two attacks might be related. Of course they are. The goddamn Islamic fanatics have declared war on whole Western world, and he’s too stupid to see it or is flat out afraid to see it!” General Gilum expounded, his disdain clear in his voice.
“Well, you heard him. I’m to move the troops or resign, or he’ll charge me with insubordination and fire me,” General Hatcher complained. “I completely understand Chip’s retirement now!”
“There has got to be something we can do about his reckless behavior,” Admiral Twilling lamented.
“Short of staging a coup, I haven’t any idea how to get rid of the asshole and his friends. Did I hear Bascome right? He wants the troops out of Afghanistan, too?” General Hatcher nodded. “Hell, the guy has never been in combat or worked undercover overseas. He’s a political hack who’s been hanging around the Democrats for years. He’s never even worked security for Wal-Mart,” General Gilum bitched and wished that Chip Clarett was still serving because he’d have a few ideas about how to get around these guys.
“I believe that Bascome has forced one of my administrative staff to spy on me for him. Everything I do, he seems to know about. The guy is dirty, and I’d love to prove it,” Hatcher suddenly shared with his friends.
“Do you know who it is?” asked Twilling.
“No, but I’d like to have a couple of your intelligence guys look into it for me.”
“I’ll see to it,” Twilling replied and made himself a note on his memo pad.
“Do we know how the other members of the Joint Chiefs feel about the situation?” General Gilum asked.
“I know General Marsh over at Air Force is fit to be tied since they cut his budget and ordered him to mothball half of our strategic bombers. They also told him to shelve the Space Plane, because it was making diplomacy with Russia difficult,” Admiral Twilling shared. “Maybe we can get together with him and Rogers from the Coast Guard and see what they think we ought to do?”
“We have to do something before that man and his cronies run the country so far into the ground, it can never get up again. Our enemies are drooling at the chance to run right over us. I’m afraid that if we wait for elections to stop his guy, it’ll be too late,” General Hatcher added. “Just look at how much damage he’s done in only a year. Three more years and we’ll be throwing rocks.”
“We swore to honor and uphold the Constitution, but it’s becoming impossible to keep that oath when this clown is doing everything he can to stack the deck against it and against this country. Just look at the judges he’s appointed—they are all radicals, and three of the seven don’t even have law degrees or any law school credits, even. They’re all Socialists and Communists, for Christ’s sake!” Admiral Twilling explained.
“They were community organizers before they were appointed. That sure qualifies them to be judges,” General Gilum said dryly.
“I’ll set up a meeting and see where Marsh and Rogers sit. In the meantime, get your intelligence geeks on my staff. Follow them night and day, and find out who the mole is. I’d suggest that the two of you do the same. Do either of you know where Clarett has disappeared to?” General Hatcher asked.
“I don’t know where he went, but I know who he went to work for. Steven Howard. I think I can get Steven to talk with me, and I’ll try to find out,” General Gilum offered as they pulled into the Pentagon.
“Whatever happened to peace through strength?” Admiral Twilling lamented as they exited the car.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
The call came in right as the Saudi interior minister had begun his busy day after morning prayers and his usual breakfast meeting with his household staff. It was eleven o’clock, and a large crowd waited in his outer office to come before him and request all manner of things, from settling water disputes, to seeking better terms in the contracts that they were bidding on, to arranging the proper dowry for an upcoming wedding. These used to be the things handled by the king, but he had tired of the tediousness of it all and forced his cousin, the interior minister, to handle it now. Heyman was already impatient and in a foul mood this morning, having fought with his wives over the vacation plans they preferred. Who would have thought that four women would be able to agree on anything?
“Yes?”
“Your Majesty, I have bad news!” It was his cousin, Prince Heyman al-Ahmed al-Fazad, who was the minister of naval affairs.
“What has happened?” The interior minister himself shared his cousin’s first name, Heyman, but that was where the similarities ended. T
he interior minister was ten years older and his full name was Heyman al-Ghazi ibn Fahd. The interior minister was of the direct royal bloodline, which flows through the House of Fahd. People familiar with the interior minister called him Al-Ghazi.
“Our Los Angeles-class attack submarine has gone missing!” Al-Fazad stated with more than a touch of sadness in his voice. “Admiral Adulmalik was on board, Al-Ghazi.”
“Allah be merciful!” Al-Ghazi spoke quietly. “Do we know where the ship went down?”
“The boat was escorting a commercial freighter through the Arabian Sea en route to Somalia. Neither the King Fahd nor the freighter, the Emperor of the Sands, has made port. The last known location was when they were passing Salalah, Oman heading into the Gulf of Aden.
Reprisal!- The Eagle's Sorrow Page 23