The Last Crusade

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The Last Crusade Page 3

by Ira Tabankin


  “You can’t, our military strength is too great for you. Nothing can stand up to our military.”

  “Do you mean the one your great President Obama ran into the ground, the one that’s at its lowest levels since the First World War, the one that’s losing people every day. The proud military which is tired and using worn out equipment from years of war? Or the one where you and Obama lowered the standards to allow fags and whores to serve in? When we capture your fags we will burn them alive, your women soldiers will become our sex slaves. Had you not cut your defense budget you might have something to scare me with, now, you’re an empty pantsuit. Do you want your emails posted on your own website or are you ready to serve Allah?”

  “Let’s say, just for discussion that I agree, what is it you want me to do?”

  “First, I want you to withdraw every element of the American military from any country that surrounds the Caliphate. I want your troops out of Europe. I want all support for the bastard country of Israel stopped. I want to know everything you know about their missile defenses. You paid for them, so you should know how to defeat them. I’ll give you thirty days to comply with my demands.”

  “What you ask is impossible.”

  “Whore! You are not listening. I’m not asking, I’m demanding. Either I have your confirmation in forty-eight hours or I’ll start posting your emails, starting with the ones where you pee on your own media. I’ll follow it with images of us burning your agents alive, agents we learned about from your emails. How will your people react watching Americans burned alive, begging for mercy? I’ll sprinkle in emails between you and your lesbian lover, Huma. Does your daughter know the real reason you’re so close to your chief of staff? Can you imagine the look on her face when she reads about it online?”

  Click.

  Hillary looks at the speaker, “Hello, are you still there?”

  She’s greeted by static. Shit, I didn’t expect that. Is what he’s asking possible? I’ll ask Huma and Cheryl what they think. My hair! It’s only half done. “Hey bitch, get back in here and finish my hair. I have a couple of important meetings today. Hurry it up.”

  Hillary leans back in the chair as her hairdresser continues working on her hair. Maybe what he’s asking isn’t a bad thing. Pulling our military out will save us hundreds of millions, more money to spread around to ensure my re-election. Israel is a bigger problem, I promised the Jewish community I’d support Israel, I can’t turn my back on them this quickly. I’ll never be able to raise a penny from them again. Damn it, maybe I can bargain with him for a little more time. It’s not that I like the damn Jews, I just need their money. I’m sure we’ll be able to work out an agreement. He doesn’t want to sink me; he’d have to start all over again with a new President.

  @@@@@

  An hour later Huma informs the President the Russian Ambassador is here to see her.

  “Show him in. I can’t wait for this day to end, I’m so tired. I may postpone the meeting with the Chinese Ambassador until tomorrow, I do have my interview this evening. I gave them a wonderful topic, America’s first woman President’s first week in the Oval Office.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’ll hurry him along.”

  “Thank you, ten minutes after you show him in, barge in to tell me there’s an urgent matter that needs my attention.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The Russian Ambassador smiles like a snake entering the Oval Office “Madam President, congratulations on winning your election. I’ve been instructed to tell you; President Putin is looking forward to working with you. He asks me to give you this ‘reset’ button so our two nations can reset our special relationship.”

  “Please thank President Putin for me. I too look forward to working with him. I see he remembers I presented your Foreign Minister with a similar ‘reset’ button.”

  “How could we forget? You spelled the Russian word ‘reset’ incorrectly.”

  “Never mind, it was the thought that matters. What’s so urgent that you needed to see me right away?”

  “President Putin has instructed me to hand you this CD disk.”

  “Do you know what’s on it?”

  “Of course, so do you. They're your missing fifty-six thousand emails. We thought you might like to review them before we make them public. I assume the Chinese Ambassador will shortly arrive to give you a copy that his intelligence service downloaded from your server.”

  “How did you get these?”

  “Madam President, you had no firewall. Your server was an open window, I’m sure every intelligence organization in the world has copies. We all held on to them in case you managed to lie your way into the Oval Office. Now that you’re here, you are owned by all of us. I’d say you are going to be resetting a lot of relationships very quickly. To start with, we’d like you to cancel your ABM system and we’d like the blueprints for your laser weapons systems. Our Navy wants the plans for your new aircraft carrier electromagnetic catapult system, our Army wants samples of your new tank armor and our Air Force wants the plans on your new B-21 long-range bomber. I think that will suffice for our first meeting. I’ll send someone over to pick up the materials in…is three days satisfactory to you?”

  “You can’t be serious! There’s no way I can turn those secrets over to you, it will destroy our national security.”

  “Would you like to see the recordings of the agents we learned about from your emails and how they screamed as we slowly fed them feet first into a wood chipper? You didn’t care about your country’s security before, why now? Think of it like income equality, you’re going to help create military equality. Of course, maybe your media would like to read the sexy emails between you and your lover, Huma. President Putin expects the delivery to be made in three days. Good day, Madam President.”

  Hillary is left with her mouth hanging open alone in the Oval Office. Damn it, now I know what the Chinese Ambassador is going to ask for, and the ambassador after that and the one after him. Damn it, I’m caught in my own lies. If I don’t follow their instructions, they’ll make the emails public, giving the right wing the excuse they need to impeach me. If I follow their instructions, it’s bound to come out, which will mean my impeachment and maybe even jail time. It’s time I call Bill and get his advice. First, I have to tell Huma, no more Ambassador meetings until further notice.

  @@@@@

  Bill’s enjoying his visit to New York City where he’s in the Waldorf’s Presidential Suite with two of the city’s most expensive escorts. He doesn’t know that one of them is secretly recording their every minute together. She received a call after being booked by Bill. The caller discussed what he wanted from her; they negotiated for five minutes before agreeing to five million dollars in cash for her recording her time with Bill Clayton. She laughs thinking even the torture of spending a night with Bill Clayton is worth it for five million in cash.

  The next morning, she smiles leaving Bill snoring in bed as she blows him a kiss. Closing the suite’s door, she laughs all the way to lobby humming the tune, ‘ain't no big thing.’

  Flagging down a cab she heads to the Palace Hotel where she’s met in the lobby by a man in a dark blue pinstripe suit holding a brown leather briefcase. They hug, he asks,

  “Good morning, would you like coffee? Breakfast? They make a wonderful, light and fluffy omelet here.”

  “Both, thank you. I have what you asked for. I assume the case is for me?”

  “If the recording is real, the case is yours. Let me see the memory chip.”

  Sliding the small memory chip into a handheld computer he laughs, pausing the playback he looks at her, “really?”

  “Really.”

  “In that case, I think you’re entitled to a bonus, You’ll never be able to work again, no one will ever trust you. My client has agreed to double his payment for the exclusive rights to the video.”

  “I could sell it many times over and yield more than double.”

  “My client will agree to
block your face so no one will know it’s you. Will anyone else promise you that?”

  “Agreed, breakfast and ten.”

  “Deal. Take the case when you leave. I’ll take care of the bill for breakfast. It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”

  “Most of my clients tell me it’s business doing pleasure with me.” She smiled as she continued eating her breakfast. Her left hand caresses the case sitting on the floor next to her stuffed with ten-million-dollars in cash.

  “By the way, I’d have that lip looked at.”

  “Yeah, the asshole bites.”

  Walking out of the Palace he smiles thinking, this little memory chip is going to destroy the great Bill Clayton. Hillary is next. One step at a time. Talk about a war on women. This may be what we need to finally put a crack in the Democrat Party.

  Chapter 3

  Ali Muhammad Tanvir convenes a meeting of the Caliphate’s military leaders to review their plans.

  “Officers of the Holy Caliphate, Allah has chosen us to unite the world under his flag. Very soon we will launch Allah’s war with our wayward brothers in Egypt. We will unleash Allah’s wrath on Egypt’s leadership. They publicly claim they’re followers of Allah, yet, their actions show them to be false believers. They signed a peace treaty with the Little Satan; more than just signing a treaty, they freely trade with the Jews. They’ve signed treaties with the Great Satan, even now, when we’re amassing on their borders, do they call on Allah for help? No! Do they call us to discuss avoiding their death? No, they call on the Great Satan for help. This is all the proof we need, their hearts aren’t pure, they aren’t true followers of the Quran, they are followers of Satan!

  We must save our brothers and sisters from their own leaders who are guiding them into hell. Allah has tasked us with the holy mission to bring the Egyptians back to his bosom. We will invade Egypt from all of her borders, including from the Mediterranean Sea, I want a landing at Alexandria and Port Said, which will enable us to control the Canal. We have three hundred fighters to support our invasion. The ground forces from Libya and the Sudan will open hostilities with ten thousand rounds of artillery and rockets. I want every square meter of their side of the border plastered with artillery before we send our tanks across. Pound the border for three hours, that alone should destroy their will to fight. The artillery barrage will be followed up with five thousand tanks crossing from the Libyan border and two thousand from the Sudan. I plan to give their President one chance to step down and turn power over to us. I’ve decided to change our timeline; I think it best if we publicly offer the Egyptians a chance to surrender. If their President refuses, we will openly show them that our forces are ready to strike for Allah. We will let them stew in their own fear for a week; zero hour will be one week from tomorrow. When the sun rises next Saturday, we launch our invasion, by dinner, we will be celebrating Egypt becoming part of the Holy Caliphate.”

  “Sir, that is Allah’s day of rest.”

  “Yes it is; we are going to give him our gift of Egypt.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Egypt’s President receives Ali Muhammad Tanvir’s messenger,

  “I understand you have a message for me from the Prime Minister of the Caliphate?”

  “Mr. President, that is correct. His Holiness Ali Muhammad Tanvir is Allah’s second messenger, he’s bringing the word of Allah to the entire planet, you must obey his instructions or suffer the wrath of Allah.”

  “Major, we have received your message.”

  “Mr. President, do you have a message for the Holy one?”

  “Yes,”

  Drawing his sword, he cuts off the messenger’s head. “Take his head back to Ali Muhammad Tanvir, that’s our answer. We won’t be bullied into joining the false Caliphate.”

  The President’s Chief of Staff and Field Marshal of the Egyptian military are shocked by the brutal attack on their President. The Field Marshal smiles,

  “Sir, I think you just declared war on the Caliphate. I’ll alert our forces.”

  “Yes, that sounds like a good idea.”

  “Sir, don’t ask what our chances are. They vastly outnumber us.”

  “I won’t, I already know the answer to the question; we don’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell, do we?”

  “Sir, the truth is, we’ll take some to hell with us, but in the end, we can’t win. They have the military power of twenty-four countries behind them.”

  “Field Marshal what do you suggest?”

  “Mr. President, I’d like permission to strike their forces on their side of the border. When they begin amassing for an attack, we hit them. We won’t win, but it will slow them down and lower their morale. We will screw up their timeline. If we can hit their supply chain, we’ll be able to slow down their attack, maybe long enough for us to receive some help.”

  “Permission granted. Have you contacted your counterpart up North? Has he been able to offer us anything interesting?”

  “Sir, we have received ten batteries of their Iron Dome anti-missile system, plus advisors and their Air Force is repainting some their fighters in our colors. The fighters are coming fully armed with some of their most advanced weapons.”

  “That should surprise the hell out of our friends.”

  “Yes, sir! If I may, I’ll be leaving to coordinate the defense of our motherland.”

  “Field Marshal, rabena ma'ak.”

  Smiling, because he knows what the Israeli’s are sending to help defend Egypt, the Field Marshal bows, leaving the President alone with his thoughts. Damn the Americans, they can never be counted on. Who would have thought the only ones who agreed to come to our aid would be the Jews? The very ones the Holy Quran says should be killed, are the ones who are coming to save us. Could there be a mistake in the Holy Quran? Could we have been mistaken all this time? I better call the Prime Minister and thank him for everything he’s doing for us.

  While the Caliphate prepares for war against Egypt, she and her sole ally prepare surprises for the invasion they know is coming. Israel and Egyptian factories work twenty-four hours a day building Iron Dome batteries, millions of mines are produced and laid along Egypt’s borders. Old weapons are taken out of storage, many are converted to remote control operation. Every man in Egypt is assigned a position in the country’s defense. Tens of thousands of RPGs are handed out. The Sinai becomes a superhighway transferring men and equipment between Egypt and Israel. Benjamin Netanyahu faces his toughest battles with his own government; his Finance Minister is angry that so much capital is being spent on Egypt.

  “Mr. Prime Minister, we are spending hundreds of millions on the defense of Egypt, surely we will need the defense material to protect our own people. I implore you to stop this unholy alliance, you are spending money we don’t have to protect a Muslim country, versus using the funds to protect us. Much of what we’re sending to Egypt can’t be quickly replaced.”

  “Mr. Minister, Egypt has been a good friend, she has lived up to her treaty obligations. We are the only country who has come to her aid. America, India, even China have turned her down. All are afraid of angering the Caliphate. We will honor our treaty and support our friend. We will because it’s the right thing to do and it will show us how the Caliphate will come after us. By helping defend Egypt, we’ll be hurting the Caliphate. Anything that hurts the Caliphate helps us. Every one of their tanks we destroy is one less they can send against us. Weakening them at the Egyptian border delays their attack on us.”

  “But sir, can we afford to give them all of the military aid we’re providing them?”

  “Most of what we’re giving them is our cast offs.”

  “Are we, at least, getting paid for it?”

  “Oh yes, in gold.”

  “In that case, I withdraw my objection.”

  “I thought you might. We’re going to get a ringside seat to watch how our enemy fights, we’ll get to test our weapons over Egypt’s land without putting our people at risk.”


  Smiling the Finance Minister nods his head, “When is the first payment arriving?”

  “It’s downstairs under guard, would you like to see what one billion dollars in gold looks like?”

  @@@@@

  After the Russian Ambassador leaves the Oval Office, the President of the United States of America sits behind the Resolute desk wondering what could possibly go wrong next. This isn’t how she was expecting her Presidency to go. Her phone buzzes,

  “WHAT?!”

  “Madam President, you have a caller on line one. I think you need to take this call.”

  “Why do you think ‘I need to take this call’ when I’ve already said NO calls!”

  “Because he claims to have a video of your husband and two of New York’s highest paid escorts which he’s going to release to the media if you don’t speak with him right now. He said to tell you, it’s no big thing.”

 

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