Lethal Trajectories - Michael Conley [161]
On the surface, the low points seemed to be stabilizing, but by early April the United States was about to face another major crisis: following the Saudi oil embargo in October, the United States had begun drawing down its strategic petroleum reserve to supplement part of its oil shortage. The SPR had, at the onset, 422 million barrels of oil in its inventory. Throughout the remainder of 2017, America drew down more than three million barrels per day of oil, consuming 225 million barrels of the reserve. In the first quarter of 2018, the SPR drawdown was reduced to two million barrels daily, resulting in the further reduction of 180 million barrels over ninety days. By April, the SPR was tapped out, and America would quickly feel the full catastrophic effect of the global oil crisis.
In this battle of attrition with Mustafa, America’s relative position would significantly weaken once its SPR oil reserve was totally depleted—an event scheduled to occur in early April. China was in a similar position. It was clear to Clayton that conditions would only worsen until Mustafa was ousted and oil markets restored. For the moment, he could see nothing to reverse this trend and had no idea when the suffering would end.
Thousands of miles away from the White House, in the northeastern tip of Saudi Arabia, an unexpected event was about to change the entire equation.
58
Hafar Al-Batan, Saudi Arabia
1 April 2018
Major General Aabid ibn Al Mishari stared out the window of his decrepit office at the air base, considering his next moves. Once he strapped himself into his F-15 SA two-seat fighter-bomber and departed the base, there would be no turning back. He thought hard about the events that had led him to this point as he waited for nightfall to cover his departure.
It didn’t have to be this way, he agonized, contemplating the irrevocable act he was about to commit. I have spent my entire adult life in the Royal Saudi Air Force. I would gladly have died for King Mustafa and the new order he brought to my country. How could everything go so wrong? Shaking his head sadly, he recalled that fateful meeting last November with his boss, General Aakif Abu Ali Jabar.
“General Ali Jabar,” he had said, “we have worked together for many years and I have never asked you for a personal favor, but I request permission to ask you one now, if I may.”
“Yes, Aabid, what is it?” Ali Jabar responded.
“I have a family problem, sir. My niece—a wonderful young woman of whom I am quite fond—is married to an evil man. He has accused her of infidelity, which I can assure you is not the case, but the religious police have taken her before the ulema. She has been pronounced guilty and will be stoned to death in two days unless, unless …” Desperate, he fumbled for the words.
“Unless what, Aabid?”
“Unless a higher authority pleads for her, General. I know you are close to Mullah Mohammed al-Hazari, and I wonder if you would speak to him and have my niece spared from this gruesome death.”
General Ali Jabar took his time responding to the request. “Why should I do this thing you are asking, Aabid?”
Hope rose in Al Mishari’s heart, and he carried on with an impassioned answer he thought might sway the general. But his hopes disintegrated when the general shot out of his chair, spittle spraying as Ali Jabar screamed out, only inches away from his subordinate’s face, “How dare you come in here with a request like that? I should have you shot. You disrespect our system of justice by even making this request. If your niece was condemned to death by stoning, then that’s what the little harlot must deserve. Now get out of my sight before I decide to shoot you myself.”