Lethal Trajectories - Michael Conley [144]
The media frenzy had already reached unbelievable levels. Some pundits had predicted that viewership would exceed even that of Burkmeister’s tragic press conference, with billions of people watching it either live or in replay. And yet, here he was, less than an hour away from showtime, reflecting on the day and praying for the strength to pull it off. Just then he heard a tapping on the door, and his secretary softly said, “Mr. President, your limo is ready to take you to the Capitol.”
Clayton, Maggie, her mother, and their two young daughters boarded the limo for the short drive down Pennsylvania Avenue for his 8:00 p.m. address to the nation. As they drove, Melissa told a riddle she had heard in school, and Clayton appreciated the distraction and reassurance of time with his family. Upon arriving at the Capitol, his family headed for their seats in the gallery, and Clayton walked over to the staging area outside the House of Representatives chamber to await the call that would catapult him into the arena.
The wait was interminable. He tried a few deep breaths to quiet the butterflies in his stomach, then laughed quietly. Same old nerves, just like giving his first speech in the high school auditorium, though his audience of two billion or more world citizens was a bit larger than usual. He managed a few more deep breaths before the familiar call of the sergeant at arms rang out: “Mr. Speaker, the President of the United States.”
As he made his slow walk to the speaker’s rostrum, pausing often to shake hands and listen to well-wishers amidst a thundering round of applause, he remembered the advice Burkmeister had given him: “Take your time, Clayton; smile often, and act as though you’re in complete control, no matter how anxious you feel.” It took him several minutes to get to the rostrum and quiet the audience. Judging by the level of quiet chatter, they’re almost as nervous as I am, he thought.
He looked around at the overflowing chamber and then slowly, in a firm and confident voice, began a speech that would ignite the world in a multitude of ways.
“Mr. Speaker, members of Congress, distinguished guests, my fellow Americans, and citizens of the world …”
52
Riyadh, Saudi Arabia
17 October 2017
“Greetings my brothers!” Mustafa proclaimed to his assembled team. “Today we meet in anticipation of the next phase of our war against the infidels. Phase I has gone well, but we are not getting the reaction I had hoped for from the international community and OPEC. Perhaps that will come, but for now I want to leave nothing to chance.”
The group, having become wary of Mustafa’s volatile mood swings, waited for him to clarify his position before commenting.
“We knew that Iran and Iraq would remain neutral,” Mustafa said angrily, “but frankly I expected more from our Middle Eastern and African neighbors. Still, with Kuwait, Qatar, and the UAE at least partially honoring our embargo, we’ve reduced the supply of oil to the global market by over 20 percent. Unfortunately, I don’t know how long they’ll stick with us.”
Sensing Mustafa’s direction, Prince Ali Abdullah Bawarzi jumped in, saying, “We’ll soon be in a position to invade them, King Mustafa, if that is your wish.”
“Thank you, Prince Bawarzi. The ground and air preparations that you and General Ali Jabar have made will no doubt ensure our success. Militarily, I know we can take them out, but the thought of Arab fighting Arab and the message it sends is appalling to me.”
“I quite agree with you, King Mustafa, but what do you wish us to do?” asked the obsequious General Ali Jabar.
“For now, nothing, General, but let me tell you of a new development. If you will recall, I advised you last week that I would meet with emissaries of Kuwait, Qatar, and the UAE to discuss the necessity of them entering into a protectorate alliance with Saudi Arabia. Over the last few hours, each has called to confirm their