“So why don’t you tell us what the real problem is, Madame President?” President Thom asked. “Why is the president of Libya, this King Idris, threatening you?”
“The real issue is, Mr. President, that Zuwayy of Libya wants Salimah—and he’s willing to kill everyone there with more neutron weapons if he doesn’t get what he wants.”
“What makes Zuwayy think he can have Salimah?” Robert Goff asked.
“You would have to ask Zuwayy that, Mr. Secretary.”
“We’re asking you, Mrs. Salaam.”
“I’m sure I don’t know, sir, except for the obvious reasons—money, power, influence.”
“Is it possible that perhaps Zuwayy was promised a piece of Salimah?” the President asked.
“Salimah belongs to Egypt, Mr. President,” Susan responded.
Thomas Thom lowered his head briefly and tightened his interlaced fingers together. “Mrs. Salaam, I feel as if we’re dancing around the issue here,” he said with more than a hint of exasperation in his voice. “You requested this videoconference with us, Madame—why don’t you just tell us what’s happening here?”
“Sir?”
“What the President is saying, Mrs. Salaam,” Kercheval interjected angrily, “is we think you promised Zuwayy something, and for some reason you can’t or won’t fulfill that promise, so he’s threatening to attack Salimah. Why don’t you just fill in the blanks for us, ma’am?”
Susan Bailey Salaam hesitated, lowered her head, then nodded. “You’re right, Mr. Kercheval. I promised Zuwayy that I would grant him twenty percent of the ownership of the partnership that’s developing Salimah.”
“Very generous of you,” Thom said.
“However, Zuwayy was supposed to purchase ten percent of the outstanding shares from the Central African Petroleum Partners for nine hundred million dollars. Naturally, he reneged,” Salaam went on. “He wanted the payments taken out of his royalties. I refused, and he got angry.”
“Will you agree to do so now?”
“I don’t know. It depends on what you say, Mr. President.”
“Why should it matter what I say?” Thom asked. “The United States is not part of this.”
“Because Egypt is powerless to stop Zuwayy,” Salaam said. “I believe he will use neutron weapons against Egypt, certainly against Salimah and most likely against a major Egyptian city or another military base, as he did against Mersa Matruh.”
“Do you have evidence that Libya was behind that attack, and that he used neutron weapons?” Goff asked. “I know he’s the main suspect, and he would have the most to gain by slaughtering all those people at Mersa Matruh, but as far as I know, there’s no direct evidence that Libya did it.”
“I know he did it. He’s crazy.”
“Certifiable, I’d say,” Goff said. “But that still doesn’t mean he did it.”
“If I got you your evidence, Mr. Secretary, then would you help me?” Salaam asked. “Would you send your stealth bombers and armored commandos in against him and shatter his military, destroy his weapons of mass destruction, and kill Zuwayy if possible so he won’t threaten to do this again? What’s your price to assure peace in Africa? Whatever it is, I’ll pay it.”
“President Salaam, first of all: If you were briefed anything about this administration by General Baris or your intelligence staff, you’d know that the President will not order U.S. forces to get involved in squabbles between sovereign nations,” Edward Kercheval said. “The United States’s position has been that we will not interfere militarily with such matters unless it directly threatens the national security or vital national interests of the United States. That has been our policy since the beginning of this administration, and it has not changed. We will be happy to act as a disinterested third party in negotiations, but we will not commit American troops to help.”
“Second, we have no idea what bombers or armored commandos you’re talking about,” Robert Goff added. “The United States has bombers, of course, but they have not been deployed or sent on any missions anywhere. And we have no armored commandos. None.”
“What about Patrick McLanahan?”
There was a slight uncomfortable rustle of hands and shoulders; but, as if he were reading the words from a cue card, Robert Goff responded, “We have heard of Mr. McLanahan, and we know he has been linked with various organizations, none of which have any connection whatsoever with the U.S. government. Mr. McLanahan is under indictment in the United States for a variety of charges, the specifications of which are sealed by the Justice and Defense Departments. He is currently free on bond and awaiting a court hearing.”
“You’re lying,” Susan said. “He helped me. He has saved Egypt from Zuwayy’s attacks.”
“If that’s what he told you, I wouldn’t believe it,” Goff said.
“You’re all lying,” Susan repeated. “He’s a hero. He’s been here. He saved Egypt from a terrible assault from Libyan military forces.”
“We may ask you to testify to that, Mrs. President,” Kercheval said, “at McLanahan’s trial.”
“This is some kind of trick,” Salaam said, the anguish apparent in her voice. “He saved us. He has powers .. . weapons . . .”
“Any of which are either fabrications or stolen, ma’am,” Goff said. “I’m sorry if he’s bamboozled you. You may of course file charges against him in federal court, and the U.S. Attorney General will see to the matter personally. But I wouldn’t place my trust, or the safety of my nation, in his hands.”
“Why are you doing this to him?” Susan asked, almost pleading. “He’s a wonderful man. He cares about his wife and his men. He loves the United States and he fights for justice. Why won’t you support him?”
“We neither support nor try to hinder him, Mrs. Salaam,” Kercheval said. “He hasn’t violated any laws in the United States that we know of. He is under investigation, but I can’t discuss that. He’s a private citizen. If we have any knowledge or evidence of wrongdoing, we’ll prosecute him to the fullest extent of the law. Otherwise, he’s free to do whatever he wishes as a free man. But he is not part of the U.S. government, and his actions are not under the direction of or sanctioned by the United States government in any way.”
“Mr. President, gentlemen, I’m asking for your help in defending Egypt against probable attack from Libya,” Susan said. “I know you have two aircraft carrier battle groups sailing in the Mediterranean Sea right now; I would like to offer you unlimited use of Egyptian ports and air bases for your crews.”
“Frankly, Madame President, after the warning you just gave us, I don’t think it would be prudent to send any of our warships near an Egyptian port right now,” Robert Goff said.
“My warning is real enough so you won’t send your ships anywhere near Egypt, but not real enough to assist us?”
“Mrs. Salaam, I will discuss your situation with my advisers,” President Thom said. “But at this point, I don’t think we’ll be in a position to help. If the Libyan president’s threat is that great, perhaps you might be better served by letting him have what he wants.”
“You’re suggesting I give in to him?”
“I don’t see that you have much choice, Madame President,” Thom said earnestly. “If the attack is as credible as you say, and if Idris is as unstable as Secretary Goff seems to think he is, then the presence of American warships in Egypt won’t deter him—in fact, it might attract a heavier attack with an even larger loss of life. You can appeal to the United Nations or go in front of the world press, perhaps initiate an investigation on where Idris got those weapons and hope that exposing him and publicizing his threat will keep him from attacking—if you predict he’ll use neutron weapons on Egypt, he might be less likely to do so.”
“Perhaps an appeal before the Muslim Brotherhood might be the strongest deterrent,” Kercheval suggested. “You seem to have been very successful in bringing the diverse factions of the Muslim Brotherhood together in Tripoli—they were even looking to
you for leadership in a united Arab republic. You may be able to head him off.”
“But I cannot count on help from the United States?”
“Not military help, Mrs. Salaam.”
“No matter how many Americans are killed if Zuwayy attacks?”
“We’re concerned about any loss of life, American or not,” Thom said. “We have condemned any use of nuclear weapons anywhere in the world, and if there was a threat against the United States, we would take swift and deadly action.”
“Pretty brave words, Mr. President—how about putting them into action?”
Thom paused, letting the caustic remark wash over and past him; then: “But... the United States will not interfere militarily in the affairs of sovereign nations, Mrs. Salaam. We are not a police force—you can’t dial 911 and get an American aircraft carrier battle group to protect you because a deal you made goes south.
“We will discuss and analyze the situation there, Mrs. Salaam, and we’ll decide on a course of action,” Thom said. “But I suggest you give the man what he wants until you have the backing of your fellow Arab nations and can rally enough support to counteract his threats.”
“I don’t believe you would actually turn your back on Egypt, Mr. President,” Susan said. “You would actually stand back and watch as Libya destroys Africa’s largest oil field and kills tens of thousands of innocent workers, when all it would take is to sail a few ships through the Gulf of Sidra and show him that you disapprove of his threat? What kind of superpower leader are you?”
“A superpower that shouldn’t need to throw its military weight around to promote peace, Madame Salaam,” Thom said. “Peace comes in many different packages and for many different prices, Madame. You appear to be too proud to give in to Idris’s threats, but not proud enough to ask the United States to invade Libya and kill its leader. This is a situation I’d rather not have the United States involved in. Once we learn more about the situation and have had time to confer, we’ll contact you if we feel we can be of help.
“But again, I suggest you think about saving lives and give Idris or Zuwayy or whatever his real name is whatever he wants. From what you said, he’s still willing to pay for the shares of the partnership—you just need to take the money out of his earnings over a period of time. Why not agree to that for now? You all continue to pump oil and make money: Most importantly, everyone lives.”
“Thank you for your suggestion, Mr. President,” Salaam said sarcastically. “It must be a great comfort to you, giving sage advice from six thousand miles away, from the safety of your continent and your bombers and missile shield.”
“I wish you luck, Madame President,” Thom said. But the call had already been terminated by then.
Kercheval shook his head. “Ouch,” he said. “That had to hurt.” But Thomas Thom looked fairly unperturbed—he went back to his computer and started to make notes about the conversation. “You’re really not going to do anything, Mr. President?” he asked incredulously. “You’re not going to reposition the fleet?”
“I’m going to do what I said I’d do, Edward—I’m going to ask for an independent assessment of the situation, get some satellites repositioned over there to keep an eye on things, and when we have our own take on what’s really going on, I’ll make a decision,” Thom said as he typed. “But no, I’m not going to send any ships anywhere near there. Robert’s right—it’s too dangerous. They’re likely to be caught in the crossfire.”
“That ‘crossfire’ could be a nuclear war” Kercheval said. “If Salaam is correct, tens of thousands of lives could be lost.”
“I’m aware of that, Edward,” Thom said. “But my problem is not to go rushing in and risk American lives in a fight we didn’t start and one in which we don’t know what’s going on. I’ll direct CIA to brief me on the current political situation in Egypt and Libya; I’ll get Justice to brief me on the situation with that oil partnership; and I’ll get Robert to brief me on the military situation and the threat to our forces in the Med. Until then, I’ll direct all U.S. forces to stay away from the area, and I’m directing you to issue a warning to all American citizens not to travel to Egypt—in case there are any Americans still in Egypt, after what happened in Mersa Matruh.”
Edward Kercheval shook his head in undisguised disbelief. “I’ll get right on it, Mr. President,” he said, and he departed. There was no secret of their almost continual policy disagreements—their debates, sometimes emerging as outright contradictions, were legendary. But their disagreements served two purposes: One, that Thomas Thom didn’t hire yes-men to serve him in his Cabinet; and second, it showed that Thom was firmly in charge. Edward Kercheval was considered one of the world’s most respected political and foreign affairs experts—and for him to continue to serve under Thomas Thom, a relative foreign affairs rookie, was a sideways tribute to both Kercheval’s and the President’s personal integrity. No one understood how it worked, but it did.
After he departed, Goff looked at his longtime friend and waited for him to say something; when he didn’t, and the aggravation factor built up to the point he couldn’t contain it any longer, he asked, “So, what are you really going to do, Thomas?”
“I already said what I want done.”
“You’re really going to do nothing? What if Libya really does attack Egypt? Could we stand the political heat and world condemnation if we received a credible warning directly from the Egyptian president but did nothing?”
“I’m not doing ‘nothing.’ I’m going to independently assess the situation ...”
“I heard what you said. But you’re not going to call Zuwayy? You don’t want to position a few more bombers over in the region, say, in England or Diego Garcia?”
“No.”
Goff nodded knowingly and smiled. “I get it. You want me to find out where McLanahan and his forces are— maybe give them a heads-up?”
“I especially don’t want you to do that,” Thom said firmly. “In fact, I’m going to direct the Justice Department to shut Sky Masters down. I want all their planes grounded. And if McLanahan and the Night Stalkers are in the country, which I believe they are right now, I want them detained.”
“You’re serious?” Goff asked incredulously. “You really don’t want to get involved in this thing at all, no matter how covertly we try or no matter how much it might cost you politically?”
“That’s right,” Thom said. “You know, Bob, I’m really impressed with McLanahan and his bunch. They got their teeth knocked in pretty good from what we can tell, and they still fought like badgers. Their aircraft acquitted themselves pretty well, if all the reports about attacked Libyan bases and destroyed airfields are all attributed to them.
“But that’s precisely the reason we need to put a muzzle on them: They’re too good. They did so well that Zuwayy of Libya might attack Egypt with nuclear weapons. That’s why we need to shut him down. Unless I can somehow bring him and his people under control again, he’s got to be shut down.”
“That’s easy,” Goff said with a wry smile. “Ask him to join your Cabinet. Make him your national security adviser. Make him defect from Martindale’s team and join yours.”
“You’re my national security adviser, Robert—I don’t need another one.”
“I’m not your national security adviser, Thomas—I’m your national security nudjen,” Goff said. “I haven’t told you a thing in twenty years. You need a guy like McLanahan to tell you when you’re wrong.”
“I want McLanahan in jail, Robert, not in the White House,” Thomas Thom said stonily. “He’s a loose cannon. I want him shut down and shut off.”
“O-kay,” Goff said. “So . . . that means you’re not going to ring him up on your little subcutaneous walkie-talkie, then?” Thom scowled at him, then turned back to his computer. Goff smiled and got up to leave.
“I’ll be very interested,” the President said as Goff was leaving, “to find out whom Susan Salaam calls next.”
Goff p
aused, then nodded. “Yeah ... me too,” he said. “Me too.”
AKRANES , ICELAND
A FEW HOURS LATER
“Well, well,” Pavel Kazakov said. His initial anger at being awakened in the middle of the night vanished in an instant.
“Madame Susan Bailey Salaam, the esteemed president of Egypt, calling me personally? I’m flattered.”
“Let’s cut to the chase, Kazakov,” Susan said angrily. “We all know you are the puppet master behind Jadallah Zuwayy. He got the neutron weapons from you; you’ve been arming him with hundreds of millions of dollars’ worth of weapons over the past several months; you talked him into blowing up Mersa Matruh. . . .”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Madame,” Kazakov said. “I’m a prisoner, a witness for the United Nations, not an arms dealer.”
“I said, let’s cut to the chase,” Susan said. “Zuwayy wants his filthy claws in Salimah—but so do you. You want back into the world oil game, and Salimah is your latest target. Fine. Help me stop Zuwayy, and you can have Salimah.” Pavel Kazakov was fully awake now. He buzzed for Ivana Vasilyeva, his aide. “I’m listening, Mrs. Salaam.”
“Shut down Zuwayy—I don’t care how,” Susan said. “Order him, bribe him, kill him—it doesn’t matter to me, just stop him from blowing up my oil fields and killing the workers. You take Zuwayy’s shares.”
“What will that give me? Thirty percent of a graveyard in the Sahara?”
“Not thirty—sixty percent of Salimah,” Susan said. “Because if you do this, I’ll buy out the Central African Petroleum Partners cartel and turn over their share of the partnership to you. I remind you, Mr. Kazakov, that Salimah represents the largest known oil reserves in all of Africa. Zuwayy only wants to rape it or destroy it, not develop it. You’re smarter than he is. Shut him down, and you can have a majority stake in the biggest known oil reserves in the world west of the Caspian.”
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