Executive orders - Tom Clancy [363]
No, he would not be remembered as another Mohammad Pahlavi. If he did not covet the trappings of power, he lusted for the fact of it. Before his death he would lead all Islam. In a month he would have the oil of the Persian Gulf and the keys to Mecca, secular and spiritual power. From that his influence would expand in all directions. In but a few years his country would be a superpower in every way, and he would leave to his successors a legacy such as the world hadn't seen since Alexander, but with the added security that it was founded in the words of God. To achieve that end, to unite Islam, to fulfill the Will of Allah and the words of the Prophet Mohammed, he would do what was needed, and if that meant moving fast, then he would move fast. Overall, the process was a simple one, three simple steps, the third and most difficult of which was already established and nothing could stop, even if Badrayn's plans all failed completely.
Was he moving too fast? Daryaei asked himself for the last time. No, he was moving decisively, with surprise, with calculation, with boldness. That was what history would say.
FLYING AT NIGHT is a big deal? Jack asked.
Sure is, for them it is, Robby replied. He liked briefing the President this way, late evening in the Oval Office, with a drink. They've always been more parsimonious with equipment than they are with people. Helicopters-French ones in this case, same model the Coast Guard has a bunch of-cost money, and we haven't seen much in the way of night operations. The operation they're running is heavy on ASW. So maybe they're thinking about dealing with all those Dutch subs the Republic of China bought last year. We're also seeing a lot of combined operations with their air force.
Conclusion?
They're training up for something. The Pentagon's Director of Operations closed his briefing book. Sir, we-
Robby, Ryan said, looking over the new reading glasses Cathy had just gotten him, if you don't start calling me 'Jack' when we're alone, I'm going to break you back to ensign by executive order.
We're not alone, Admiral Jackson objected, nodding toward Agent Price.
Andrea doesn't count-oh, shit, I mean- Ryan blushed.
He's right, Admiral, I don't count, she said, with a barely contained laugh. Mr. President, I've been waiting weeks for you to say that.
Jack looked down at the table and shook his head. This is no way for a man to live. Now my best friend calls me 'sir,' and I'm being impolite to a lady.
Jack, you are my commander-in-chief, Robby pointed out, with a relaxed grin at his friend's discomfort. And I'm just a poor sailor man.
First things first, the President thought: Agent Price?
Yes, Mr. President?
Pour yourself a drink and sit down.
Sir, I'm on duty, and regulations-
Then make it a light one, but that's an order from your President. Do it!
She actually hesitated, but then decided that POTUS was trying to make some sort of point. Price poured a large thimbleful of whiskey into the Old Fashioned glass and added a lot of ice and Evian to it. Then she sat next to the J-3. His wife, Sissy, was upstairs in the House with the Ryan family.
As a practical matter, people, the President needs to relax, and it's easier for me to do that if I don't make ladies stand up, and my friends can call me by my name once in a while. Are we agreed on that?
Aye aye, Robby said, still smiling but seeing the logic and desperation of the moment. Yes, Jack, we are all relaxed now, and we will enjoy it. He looked over at Price. You're here to shoot me if I misbehave, right?
Right in the head, she confirmed.
I prefer missiles myself. Safer, he added.
You did okay with a shotgun one night, or so the