They guessed the subject would be something to do with Saudi Arabia, since for several days the newspapers had been filled with the repercussions of the military coup in Riyadh. And this afternoon there had been yet another precipitous fall in the Dow and the Nasdaq, and news from the international stock markets was, if anything, worse. Gasoline continued at an all-time high at the pumps, especially in the Midwest.
Suddenly, however, the door behind the dais opened and the President himself walked through, accompanied only by the scowling figure of Admiral Morgan, who glared across the room, as if spoiling for a fight if anyone stepped out of line.
His reputation was enormous. He rarely, if ever, deigned to speak to any member of the media, and he was quick to bite off the head of any offending journalist. And he did not give a damn what they wrote or said about him. President Bedford had insisted Morgan accompany him into the Briefing Room, from where he would broadcast tonight live.
He had been briefed by Morgan, and Morgan alone. And his instructions were clear: You will say only what’s on these sheets of paper. You will answer nothing from the floor. There will be no questions afterward.
As Admiral Morgan had himself put it, “I just want to avoid someone yelling out, DO YOU THINK THE PRESIDENT OF FRANCE IS A FAT-ASSED COMMUNIST? And you reply jokingly, ‘I don’t entirely disagree with that sentiment.’ And the headline screams, PRESIDENT CALLS FRENCH LEADER A FAT-ASSED COMMUNIST.”
At this point the President conferred briefly with the Admiral, and then he stepped up to the dais, and the cameras whirred. He faced a phalanx of microphones and a sea of eager but cynical faces, belonging to men and women who were ready to pounce, however limited their knowledge of the subject.
Lions are like that. If they’re hungry enough, they’ll go for any kill, even if the odds are stacked against them. Members of their breed call it courage with high moral intent. Arnold Morgan had a more graphic, profane description meaning…well, not terribly smart.
“Good evening,” said the President. “I expect many of you will have guessed I am speaking tonight on a matter of national emergency. I refer of course to the recent events in Saudi Arabia, which have been responsible for such far-reaching economic issues for most of the Free World.
“Now, the Saudi royal family has for many years operated a system of government that was not our idea of democracy. But that burning desert land is situated far away from our own, and has deep tribal traditions and cultures that we cannot hope to understand.
“They are a kingdom, and a Muslim one at that, and they are not so many generations away from their ancient Bedouin roots. Their ways are not our ways, but they deserve our respect, and I can only say that in various times of international strife, the Saudis have been the first to come to our aid.
“Nonetheless, we were aware that all was not well domestically for them, and it was not really a great surprise to students of the region when an armed uprising broke out, the royal family as we knew it was swept from power, and a new King installed.
“For them the issue was a fairer system of government, with a fairer share of the wealth beneath the desert going to the people, rather than just to one family. The revolution that many of us expected has finally happened. In the long run, I for one believe it might very well be for the best.
“But tonight I am here to discuss the short run, and the crisis each and every one of us faces at the gas pumps, the severe inflation that is already happening here, in terms of air fares and all forms of travel, and the spiraling costs in electricity.
“I assure you this government is doing everything possible to get that under control. And in the coming weeks we will have it under control, as I promised you last week. However, tonight my talk to you has another purpose.
“I wish to inform not just citizens of the United States but citizens all over the world that the Saudi rebellion could not possibly have happened without the compliance of a heavily armed, militarily savvy Western country. And right here, right now, I point the finger at the Republic of France, which has acted in a way many of you may find unforgivable.
“The Saudi Arabian uprising was masterminded by France, executed by France, and led by France. The new King was backed by France. The old King was murdered by France. And all to seize an advantage in the international oil markets when Saudi oil came back on stream.
“I look at France, and I say again, I ACCUSE! Or, if they understand it better, J’ACCUSE!
“My fellow Americans, France did this. And you will no doubt have heard the new King Nasir of Saudi Arabia, in his opening speech, announce that France would receive all of the billion-dollar rebuilding contracts for the Saudi oil installations.”
President Bedford hesitated, and took a sip of water. He stared out at the furiously scribbling journalists, knowing that many of them were dying to get through to their offices—but they were forbidden under White House protocol from moving or speaking until his address to the nation was over.
“In order that everyone understand thoroughly how we arrived at our conclusions, I will take you through the sequence of events that led irrevocably to the culprit.
“And the first thing I would like to mention is the level of the Saudi defenses around their oil fields and refining complexes. It’s heavy. Military. Highly trained. Essentially, the Saudis have one principal asset, and that’s oil. And they are far from stupid, and they know how to protect that asset.
“The only weapon that could hit those installations is a cruise missile, and it would need to be fired from a submerged submarine, not from the surface or from an aircraft. They would have spotted those. But they would not have spotted a submerged launch. And that’s what happened. And the Saudis do not own one.
“Whenever anything is hit by a missile apparently fired from nowhere, you always seek an underwater launch. And it always turns out to be the case. No exceptions.
“And the United States Navy has a handle on every single submarine in this world—where it is, what it’s doing, who owns it, and where it’s been.
“My fellow Americans, there were only two submarines anywhere near the Saudi shores at the crucial time. And they were both French. We have their hull numbers. We logged ’em both through the Suez Canal, and we saw them go deep in the Red Sea. But we never saw them again—not till they turned up in the French base right on time, having fired their missiles at the Saudi oilfields. WE KNOW WHAT THEY DID.
“And we watched the French buying oil futures last November. We watched them getting out of their Saudi contracts. WE KNOW WHAT THEY DID.
“And we took photographs of the French Special Forces Commander who led the attack on the royal palace in Riyadh. We’ve been to his home in France. We know his name. WE KNOW WHAT HE DID.
“We know the French Government harbored and then hired the most dangerous military commander in the Arab terrorist world. We know the date and the French city where they hired him to lead the land attack on the big Saudi military bases at Khamis Mushayt. We know his name. WE KNOW WHAT HE DID.
“We heard the last military signal from the Riyadh commander to his French base; our good friends in the British Army intercepted it and passed it to us within a half hour. We know what it said. And we know who said it. WE KNOW WHAT HE DID.”
The President paused to let his jackhammer words, drafted and honed by Arnold Morgan, ring around the room, and indeed around the world.
“As many of you know, this is not the first time the French have stepped out of line with the rest of mankind. Not so long ago they tried everything they knew to stop a United States President remove from power one of the most villainous tyrants of our time from Iraq.
“This was a man whose hands dripped with blood, the blood of his own people. He was a man who started off as some kind of a tribal murderer and who ended up a full-fledged psychopath, who slaughtered an estimated three hundred thousand of his own people, some with chemical weapons. He was a man who had fired guided missiles at innocent Israeli fa
milies, tried to conquer Kuwait. And the French tried to protect him because of their commercial ties to Iraq.
“Perhaps it’s because we saved them in World War Two, perhaps it’s because their pride has never recovered from their government’s cowardice and their army’s lack of leadership. But it seems there are no lengths to which they will not go to remain solidly anti-American. And this time they have gone too far. They have brought the Western world to its knees financially. But only temporarily. We’ll get up.
“Meanwhile my advisers are considering our position with regard to the French action. Right now we are about ready to declare Saudi oil a global asset. It may be that we, and our principal allies, consider the Saudis no longer competent to act as custodians of that asset. But we expect no cooperation from the French in any form.
“My fellow Americans, I am certain of our ground. I am certain of the very great wrong that has been perpetrated upon the nations of the earth. And I make no apologies for any sentence I have uttered tonight.
“I will take no questions. But I say again to the President and the government of the Republic of France, WE KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE. AND I ACCUSE…I ACCUSE…I ACCUSE.”
And with that, the Virginian Democrat, Paul Bedford, the forty-fifth President of the United States of America, turned on his heel and walked from the dais, leaving Admiral Morgan to answer any questions there might be.
However, the room was in such total uproar there was nothing that could have been heard, never mind asked and answered. The wire service reporters had stampeded to the back of the room, and within seconds were yelling down their cell phones. The time was 7:20 P.M., a critical time in many newspaper offices. The network television reporters were dying to fire in a question that would portray them on air as focused, wise, and farsighted political observers.
Trouble was they all went for immortality at the same time, and the result was absurd. Nothing short of bedlam. Admiral Morgan shook his head and growled into one of the microphones, “Either you guys get your goddamn act together and stop behaving like children, or I am leaving.”
That statement was not broadcast on any network. And finally the din subsided and someone called out, “Sir, does the French President know what our President has just said?”
Admiral Morgan said, “For all I know the French President is in the sack, since it’s after midnight in Paris. But if he’s sitting up in bed watching CNN or something, I guess he’s heard. We announced President Bedford’s prime-time address several hours ago.”
“Sir, do you expect to hear from the French President either tonight or tomorrow?”
“No. Not directly. But I expect the Prime Minister of France to make a statement on behalf of his government, denying any and all involvement in the recent events in Saudi Arabia. I expect him to denounce the United States as perpetrators of a gigantic lie against the French Republic, and to call upon the United Nations to reprimand our UN Ambassador in the strongest possible terms.”
“What do we do then?”
“Shut up, Tommy, will ya? Haven’t you got enough of a great story without standing there saying, ‘And then what?’ over and over. Jesus, do you guys actually get paid to go through this bullshit?”
That part was not broadcast either, on any network. But it made the reporters laugh, and no one much minded when the Admiral shook his head and said, “I’m outta this zoo. Go write your stuff.”
Admiral Morgan left the West Wing immediately. Kathy was waiting at the wheel of his beloved Hummer, and they made the journey back to Chevy Chase together.
The fire in the study had been prepared, and all Morgan needed to do was light it and turn on the television. Mrs. Newgate, their new housekeeper, employed as soon as the Morgans returned to the White House, announced that dinner would be ready at 8:45, and would the Admiral like her to open a bottle of wine.
Morgan replied that the way he felt, a case would probably be more appropriate, but he would settle for a bottle of Château de l’Hospital 2000, a pricey red Bordeaux. “And you’d better pour it into a decanter,” said Morgan. “Might as well drink it in style. Alan Dickson and I just decided not to blow the place up.”
Mrs. Newgate’s somewhat bewildered reply was lost in the thunder of Morgan’s next words. “JESUS H. CHRIST! THAT WAS FAST!”
At which point, Mrs. Newgate, who hardly knew the Admiral personally, had not moved, and for a split second she thought he was being sarcastic. But then she noticed he was riveted to the television screen, where a man in a dark suit and a maroon striped tie was speaking in rapid French while a CNN interpreter turned his words into English.
“…and France cannot understand the accusations of the American President…our government is completely unaware of any of the actions he attributes to us…we know of no French commanders in Saudi Arabia, our submarines make the Suez Canal transit every month…there is no mystery…we conduct exercises in the Arabian Sea and the Indian Ocean, as they do…our base is at La Réunion, theirs is at Diego Garcia…there’s no difference.
“And what is this crazy signal from Riyadh they speak of? What signal? Was it in French? Who says so? And where are these photographs they claim to have? We have never been shown…it is absolutely preposterous that the President of the United States should level against us accusations of this nature.
“And I assure every citizen of this nation we shall take this matter before the United Nations in New York, and we will demand satisfaction. We will demand an apology. These charges are unfounded, and we deny them most vigorously. I am sure the Americans, with their innate jealousy of France and its civilized standards, would like them to be true. But I am afraid not, Mr. President. They are lies. And I end my address as President Bedford ended his. With a repetition, n’est-ce pas? NON! NON! And NON! again.”
“You go for it, pal,” muttered Arnold Morgan. “You lying frogeating bastard.”
At this point, Kathy came into the study bearing a weak, tall Scotch-and-soda for her husband, the way he liked it. No ice. She glanced at the television and heard the commentator saying: “And so, the United States stands accused tonight of slandering the Republic of France, and will probably have to face the censure of the Security Council of the United Nations.
“A UN spokesman said a few minutes ago that President Bedford had made many allegations that would be difficult to prove. He added that the Secretary-General was most surprised that as a Permanent Member of the Security Council, the United States would choose to abuse another Permanent Member in this way.”
At this point, the anchorman began to turn the newscast over to CNN’s United Nations correspondent, who was standing outside the great building with the myriad national flags fluttering behind him in the rain.
“Thank you, Joe.”
“You’re very welcome, Fred. Perhaps you’d give an outline of the procedures we may expect against the United States…”
“Be happy to, Joe…and I should start by saying these are very grave accusations, and I understand France has already filed a request for an emergency meeting of the Security Council, which, under the charter, must now meet inside the next twenty-four hours.
“The Security Council is the most powerful body within the United Nations and contains five permanent members—China, France, the Russian Federation, the United Kingdom, and the United States of America. There are also ten nonpermanent members, and for a censure motion to go through, I am advised that a straight majority of nine votes would be required. We may assume that the United States and Great Britain will vote no to the French motion, and we may have one or two other supporters.
“However, informed opinion here at UN Headquarters suggests the United States will lose the vote and very probably will be hauled before the General Assembly, and be very publicly censured for making unsubstantiated allegations against a founding Member State.”
“How about we substantiate them, asshole?” muttered Arnold Morgan.
Kathy made her biannual objection to his
language, saying, “I do wish you would not use that disgusting word so often…”
“What word? France?” asked the Admiral.
“No.”
“Well, what word?”
“I will not repeat it.”
“Well, how am I to repent and promise to be better if I am kept in the dark about the entire basis of my crime?”
“You are, of course, impossible…” began Kathy.
“Hold it, darling .. just for a moment…please…I want to hear what this asshole is trying to say.”
Kathy, as ever, could not help laughing at him, and she walked back to the kitchen with the words of an apparent asshole in her ears. “…Make no mistake…this is very serious trouble for this administration.”
THE FOLLOWING MORNING
THE PENTAGON
ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA
They were gathered in the fourth-floor office of Admiral Alan Dickson—Arnold Morgan, Admiral Frank Doran (C-in-C Atlantic Fleet), who had flown up from the Norfolk Naval Yards, and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, General Tim Scannell, who had accepted an invitation to sit in on the meeting, even though this was, at present, strictly a Navy issue. In the opinion of Admiral Morgan, the least number of people who knew about this the better. As Supreme Commander of Operation Tanker, he took the seat at the head of the table. “Now I guess we’ve all seen the newspapers and listened to the television broadcasts, and understand that the U.S.A. is about to come under worldwide attack inside the United Nations. I should tell you that I planned that, because what we are about to do has a good chance of being judged so shocking that no one would dream we were the culprits, since we’re in so much trouble already.”
General Scannell and Admiral Doran both tried to suppress chuckles. But failed.
Morgan proceeded. “Gentlemen, we’re not in any trouble. France, whatever that Prime Minister says, did take down the Saudi King and it did plunge the world economy into crisis. And we are going to do something about it.”
He outlined the plan that Admiral Dickson had masterminded. The quick hit on the first tanker carrying French crude oil to come out of the Gulf. Then another hit on the first French tanker to enter the Red Sea through the Bab el Mandeb.
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