Read Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 10 Online

Authors: Wings of Fire (v1.1)

Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 10 (62 page)

BOOK: Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 10
10.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

 
          
The
United Arab Republic
foundered for a variety of reasons: The
nations involved were too diverse, too wrapped up in their own domestic
difficulties, and too dependent on non-Arab nations, mostly the
Soviet Union
, for their military strength. But
assembling a new
United
Arab Republic
was
a dream of almost every Arab leader since the fall of the first—if
Europe
could establish a European Union, as
different as they all were in language, geography, wealth, and history, why
couldn’t the Arab world do so as well?

           
Susan Bailey Salaam’s speech did not
last longer than a few minutes—but the crowd cheered and applauded her for
almost fifteen. It was truly an awe-inspiring demonstration of trust, loyalty,
love, and respect for the American-born non-Muslim wife of a slain politician .
..

 
          
...
for everyone except Jadallah Zuwayy. “There she goes again—calling for a United
Arab Republic!” he shouted at the television set in his office at the
Royal
Palace
in
Tripoli
,
United Kingdom
of
Libya
. “How dare she? Who does she think she is—
Nasser
? Kennedy? Cleopatra?” Zuwayy got up out of
his seat and started stalking the room. “I thought we had a deal to get a piece
of Salimah, Juma,” he said to his Minister of Arab Unity, Juma Mahmud Hijazi.
“What happened?”

 
          
“The
deal was that we got twenty percent from Salaam once we paid for ten percent to
the cartel,” Hijazi replied. “About nine hundred million American dollars.”

 
          
“Nine hundred million dollars?
That’s
insane! I’m not going to pay any bunch of European bastards or anyone else
almost a billion dollars!”

 
          
“They
insisted on their money up front—we couldn’t get them to agree to take the fee
out of our royalties,” Hijazi went on.

 
          
“Jadallah,
let’s just pitch in and buy the damned shares so Salaam will release her shares
and we can start taking in some cash,” Tahir Fazani, the Minister of Defense,
said. “In exchange for this investment to the cartel, we’ll be receiving one
point eight billion dollars
U.S.
worth of value in the organization.”

 
          
“What
good is that to me?” Zuwayy thundered. “I don’t have a billion dollars to
spend!”

 
          
“We’ll
earn that investment back in less than three years if the cartel increases
production as planned,” Fazani added. “With an additional investment, we can
enlarge the size of the new pipeline and—”

 
          
“Now
you want me to pay
more!
” Zuwayy
thundered. “Did you hear what I said? I don’t have a billion dollars to invest
now—how do you expect me to invest more? And just breaking even in three years
doesn’t exactly appeal to me either—while I’m waiting for my money, Salaam and
the fat cats in
Europe
and
America
are raking in money hand over fist. It’s
not right, and I won’t stand for it!”

 
          
“Jadallah,
if the project is expanded, we can all stand to make an enormous profit in
coming years,” Hijazi said. “And in the meantime, the cartel is providing
employment for thousands of Libyans.”

 
          
“That’s
another question we’re going to tackle—taxing Libyans working in
Egypt
!” Zuwayy said. “Why should our people pay
Egyptian taxes?” He slapped his desktop. “I want Salimah destroyed, Fazani. I
want it nuked, then I want to send in a ground force and take the entire
complex. We’ve got the troops in place, lined up in
Libya
and
Sudan
—let’s do it.”

 
          
“Don’t
be crazy, Jadallah. We’ll think of something else.”

 
          
“I
want all Libyan workers to return to this country or they’ll be considered
traitors and enemies of the state,” Zuwayy said hotly.

 
          
“We’ve
got over twenty thousand workers in
Egypt
right now,” Hijazi said. “It’ll take weeks
to get them back.”

 
          
“And
I want Salimah shut down,” Zuwayy went on. “Use those neutron weapons
again—that’ll work. We kill all the foreigners and Egyptians, and then we can
just march right in and take over.”

 
          
“But
what if Salaam calls up those American bombers again?” Fazani asked. “We’ll get
clobbered. We haven’t found a way to stop them—we don’t even know where they
came from or what they are!”

 
          
Zuwayy
turned angrily on Tahir Fazani. “You will do as I tell you, Fazani, or you can
turn in your uniform and get out.”

 
          
“Don’t
be an idiot, Jadallah—we’re all working together on this, remember?” Fazani
said. The two men stared at each other for several long moments—Zuwayy looked
almost psychotic, Fazani’s expression turning from angry to scared and back to
angry again.

           
“Do it, Fazani,” Zuwayy told him. “I
want the bombers airborne or the missiles on their way by tomorrow night. I’ll
give Salaam one more chance to conclude our deal— and if she doesn’t agree,
I’ll turn her precious oil fields into a
graveyard
.”

 

 
          
THE
WHITE HOUSE OVAL OFFICE
 
DAYS LATER

 

           
“President Salaam, this is Thomas
Thom. It is a pleasure to speak with you,” President Thomas Thom said. He was
on a secure videophone link from his study next to the Oval Office. “I’m here
in my study with Secretary of State Kercheval and Secretary of Defense Goff.”

 
          
“It’s
a pleasure to speak with you, Mr. President,” Susan Bailey Salaam replied.
“With me is my senior adviser and defense minister, General Ahmad Baris. Thank
you for speaking with me.”

 
          
“First,
Madame Salaam, I’d like to extend my sympathy and condolences for the terrible
tragedy that has occurred in
Egypt
,” Thom went on. “All of the relief, rescue
and recovery, and scientific resources of the
United States
are yours for the asking.”

 
          
“Thank
you, Mr. President. The
United States
has long been a strong ally of
Egypt
, and I hope this will continue.”

           
“You’re welcome, Madame President.
Let’s get down to business, shall we? Secretary Kercheval?”

           
“Thank you, Mr. President. Madame
President, I understand you have received a message direct from the king of
Libya,” Secretary Kercheval said without further preamble, “stating that a
situation has developed involving the safety of Libyan workers in Egypt, and
that the Libyan government sees this as a direct threat to its national
security and peace in Africa. King Idris has said that it is unsafe for Libyan
workers in Salimah and he has ordered all Libyan workers to leave
Egypt
immediately. He also warns
Egypt
to use every resource to protect Libyan
lives.”

           
“You are very well informed, Mr.
Kercheval,” Susan said.

 
          
“Our
intelligence agencies have examined the situation, and we’ve analyzed all of
the press reports coming in from
Egypt
from news agencies all over the world
covering the explosive growth of the Salimah complex, and we don’t see any
evidence of mistreatment,” Kercheval went on. “If anything, we see a very high
incidence of anti-Egyptian government sentiment rising in the settlements and
housing areas, but mostly from non-Arab countries that resent the sudden and
very large influx of Arab workers. That represents a slight danger for Arabs,
but not targeted specifically against Libyans, in our view.”

 
          
“That’s
correct, Mr. Kercheval.”

 
          
“But
despite this, you believe this threat to be credible? You actually believe that
Idris will attack Salimah, even if there are Libyans still working there?”

 
          
“I
do, sir.”

 
          
“Are
you considering military action of your own?” Secretary Goff asked. “Some kind
of preemptive strike?”

           
“Fully one-fifth of our military
forces were decimated at Mersa Matruh, including almost a third of our naval
forces,” Salaam said. “We redeployed troops to protect the capital; we have
only a token ground force in Salimah. General Baris informs me that it would
take several weeks at a minimum to recall the reserves and generate enough
forces to stage an effective attack. Besides, we don’t want to make war on
Libya
.”

 
          
“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.”

BOOK: Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 10
10.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

One Night by Eric Jerome Dickey
Something So Right by Natasha Madison
Spring Rain by Lizzy Ford
Taken With The Enemy by Tia Fanning
No Boundaries by Ronnie Irani