Dawn of Tears - 27. The Opening Act

Note to Readers: The art of international diplomacy is just that...an art. Sometimes the artist is able to complete the work quickly, other times it takes forever. Often the most beautifully crafted treaties aren't worth the paper they are written on by the time they are completed. I was determined to make sure that the negotiations with the UIC did not fall into the category of 'failure'.

Of course, a successful treaty in this case was not what many would consider 'successful' or even 'fair'. That fact mattered little to me, or to those who had sent me. The time for equality in the international community was long since past.

"We've got permission for use of Jordanian airspace." Paul said as Mary set a fresh cup of coffee in front of me. It had been six hours since the bombing and it was now dark outside. The conference room table was filled with all three pilots, and most of my actual support staff.

"We've talked with Basra Command." Lt. Colonel Snelling took up as Paul finished. "They will be launching a tactical wing within the hour. Two sniffers will be up as well, and they have SAM suppression aircraft as well as interceptors. A refueling wing will join up with them to make sure their tanks are topped off as well. Everyone's running heavy on drop tanks so they'll be fine when we meet up with them. We'll take off just after midnight local time and arrive in Basra about six hours later."

"Sounds like no one is getting any sleep tonight." I stated and he nodded.

"Best take a nap right after dinner." Colonel Snelling comments. "Seat belt lights won't be coming off and I'll need one of the enlisted men in the cockpit with Captain Harrington on the electronic warfare console. We've sealed over the few cracks we found from bomb damage and no windows suffered any damage from the concussion wave."

"What about while we're over Jordan?" Paul asked as that really was our weak point.

"The clearance gave a twenty-four hour window and had no flight corridor or other restrictions." Snelling answered with a smile. "This bird's got damn good look-down radar that was designed for bombers doing low-level operations. We'll be about two hundred feet above ground level, avoiding all towns and cities the entire way. We'll be going full throttle all the way."

"Colonel, isn't that a little dangerous?" Martha asked in a weak voice. "It doesn't matter if Jordan sends up planes after us if we crash into the side of a mountain. This isn't a military plane, it's an airliner."

"It's an airliner better reinforced than any bomber I ever flew." He told her. "I did some test runs when I first got command of her. Took her to the Grand Canyon, and really tried her out. She won't beat a fighter for speed or maneuverability, but she's as good as any bomber I've ever flown. If she were smaller, I'd fly her at 100 feet above ground level. Two hundred is our safety margin. Ground-based radar will stand a bigger chance of picking her up, but we'll be running our jamming system as well and they've never seen this package before. I'll be surprised if our own guys see us before we pop up out of the ground clutter and jamming mess."

"Do it." I said simply and he nodded. The argument was over, and now it was time to talk about the other important message we'd received.

"So, the Ayatollah wants us to fly to Bahrain." I said slowly and everyone nodded. "What does everyone think?"

"It's a good choice." Nadine said. She'd spent the most time in this region of everyone on board. "It's officially a part of the UIC, but it's also the Las Vegas of the region. It's always been friendly to the US, and is all but dependent on the Saudis since their own oil fields dried up. That combination didn't do them much good over the last few years, but the Saudi government uses it as a 'pressure relief valve' for their population, as does most of the UIC. People can go there and drink, gamble, and play with prostitutes before going back home. The Emir misses the good old days when American ships would dock here for shore leave and re-supply, and boost the local economy when the sailors got their liberty. I remember paying thirty bucks for a long island ice tea last time I was there."

"There's still a fairly strong sentiment for Americans there, but it is buried under the UIC attitude." Paul added. "There haven't been any anti-American demonstrations like the other UIC countries so it makes sense he talk to us there without getting the people he's been riling up all pissed off at him."

"We'll re-fuel and re-stock all of our provisions in Basra before making the flight to Bahrain." Lt. Colonel Snelling stated. "They've sent parking arrangements for us while we're there, including a hangar. Outside temperatures are still over one-oh-five Fahrenheit with about seventy percent humidity. We'll have full power in the hangar and plane, although the only air conditioning will be on the plane. They're offering you the use of a local hotel for quartering if you wish. You might want to do that, it's going to average over ninety degrees on the plane."

"What's the advance team situation?" I asked Paul.

"None." Paul stated with a frown. "They'll loan us two vehicles if we want them, but the only advance we can get is a few squads of troops from Basra and they won't allow bringing vehicles. They've offered to meet at the airport if we stay on the plane. They're not pushing us either way."

"What does that make you think?" I asked him and he shrugged.

"They're awful confident." He said. "I think the bombing here was a test, and while you might be safer in the plane, it won't be much. We pretty much either use the hangar or stay on the tarmac and roast like pigs in the oven. If we use the hangar, we'll need a ground tow in order to leave; you'll only be slightly safer on board than in a hotel room. The margins are so slim on this one the choice is more diplomatic than security."

"Hotel room for diplomatic reasons." Martha declared and Paul nodded with a frown.

"We'll use the Utah boys for drivers." Paul stated. "They actually completed the driving program with higher scores than the rest of us and I don't want to trust their people driving. There'll be bomb and bug sweeps of all vehicles and rooms, and we are still to treat them as unsecured locations."

"Very well, tell the Presidio that we'll be on our way at midnight." I ordered and everyone relaxed slightly. The pilots left at that, in order to begin preparations for the upcoming flight and to get some rest. Paul stayed while Martha headed for the communications shack to send out the necessary messages.

"Any results from our searches?" I asked Paul once we were relatively alone.

"Not even a hint of any other controlled or bonded people out there." Paul stated and I had to sigh. I even sent Jennifer and Alan out there to sniff around. As gifted, they could do more than feel for an echo by actively searching for markers in the people they touched. They'd turned up empty handed as well, but at least they'd helped us figure out that the outrage amongst the Israelis was real. That one of their own had attacked my plane had them worried the US might pull its support from them. That worried them enough that the Prime Minister had asked the Presidio if he could come apologize to me in person. Instead, we'd talked briefly by radio and I'd accepted his apologies and condolences for the loss of two of my men. I'd given him my own condolences on the fifteen dead and twelve injured Israeli soldiers.

Dinner was a solemn occasion as we dealt with the loss of Jones and Halpern and the near disaster we'd had earlier in the day. Neither man had been popular amongst the circle, but they had been a part of us, and were now gone. They reminded us that we were mortal, we could be killed, and that what we did was dangerous.

After dinner, it was time for interviews with our press members on board. While we were getting ready for some rest before our late night flight, the United States was eating lunch or getting to work, listening and watching the news stations that were providing constant commentary now on the bombing, and occasionally mentioning Henry's mission in Mexico.

The Red House (as the new Presidential Office/Residence was called) had authorized brief interviews with me in order to show that I was perfectlyfine. I'd taken a quick shower and changed into a fresh dress shirt and slacks while the conference room was set up. We'd be using the videoconference camera on the television screen and the television itself instead of setting up cameras. This was in part because we were broadcasting to two networks in a short period of time and because Paul was only willing to let the reporters themselves come forward, not their crew. Daro Fo was being given the first five-minute broadcast, followed by Genevieve. The print reporters were allowed to watch both, and would each get a five-minute exclusive interview after the television shots were done.

As I entered the conference room from my cabin, Fo was talking animatedly to a studio person before the signals were synchronized. He stopped when he saw me enter and shook my hand before I sat down next to him.

"I can't believe you let me be the first one to interview." He told me as we both sat down.

"I think Martha picked it alphabetically." I said and he smiled at the polite fiction.

"Okay, Daro, are you getting the picture yet?" The voice of the studio technician asked and Daro told him we weren't. A few minutes later, though, everything was working properly.

"Daro, this is Tom in the studio, we can see both you and Mr. Jacobs, can you hear and see us as well?" Tom, the announcer on screen asked and Daro told him we could. The sound had been turned down from the screen to prevent feedback and we were both wearing headsets that transmitted the studio's sound to us. "Okay, Daro, it's good to see you."

"Believe me Tom, it's good to be here still." Daro said with a smile towards the screen and camera. "They told me Mr. Jacobs here can attract danger and I'd better be careful, but this was nothing like what I expected. I'm sitting here on the plane everyone now calls Air Force 3 with Dylan Jacobs, special advisor to the President and currently on a mission to discuss the impending Oil Crisis with the UIC. As you know, several hours ago a suicide bombing was attempted here at the airport where we're sitting in Israel. The car bomb killed two members of the Secret Service detail and several Israeli soldiers. We all felt it on the plane, but no one was injured. Mr. Jacobs, what can you tell us?"

"Please, call me Dylan." I answered, smiling at him, and then looking towards the camera. "First of all, let me say that the mission I'm on isn't because of another Oil Crisis existing, but rather to keep one from happening. It's nothing as serious as what we faced two years ago and I'm hoping it will be swiftly resolved. As for what happened today - the Israeli security around the plane, and our own Secret Service detail, did their job and stopped any harm from coming to this aircraft or its occupants. The occupants of the vehicle were confirmed to include an Israeli Major. His home was checked and they found his family murdered, likely after the bombing failed. I have spoken to the Israeli Prime Minister, and he has given me an apology that was not needed. Israel is, has been, and will always be a friend to the American people. They have helped us time and again, and I grieve for the loss of their men, including the Major and his family, as well as the loss of Halpern and Jones from my security detail. You might not know this Daro, but those two men have been with my team since the beginning and they were an important part of my life. They'll be missed."

"My condolences on their loss as well." Daro said in an honest tone. "So, it is your opinion that this was an attempt to blame the Israelis?"

"The evidence does appear that way, yes." I affirmed. "I also do not think it's linked to the upcoming talks. Rather, as you know, Israel is facing an increase in terrorism in recent months and I think this attempt might have been directed at getting the United States to intervene in Israel's domestic policy. We won't do that, of course."

"Has there been any word on how long we'll be here?" Daro asked and I nodded.

"Yes, we'll be leaving sometime within the next twenty-four hours." My answer was given with a smile. "For security concerns, I won't be specific, but within the next two days we should begin our negotiations with the UIC leadership at a location of their choosing."

"Earlier, you admitted that the United States had once threatened to use nuclear weapons against the UIC." Daro Fo asked, and I almost frowned, but realized his tone was expressly neutral, with no hint of accusations in it. "How do you think that action will affect the upcoming talks?"

"Hopefully, not at all." I answered, surprised at how…fair the question was. It was a totally legitimate question given the circumstances. "The situation then and the situation now are two totally different things. We've been waiting months for an opportunity to discuss some exciting opportunities for new partnerships with the UIC. There are new things that we're bringing to the table and not one of them concerns potential military conflict, much less the use of nuclear weapons against the UIC. I hope they'll be pleasantly surprised by what we have to discuss. I know I am."

"Thank you, Dylan." Fo said, turning to the television. "Tom, any questions from the studio?"

"Yes, Daro." Tom, the anchor said immediately. "Dylan, have you been following the reports of your brother's mission to Mexico?"

"I have been following that, yes." I said with a smile.

"Any thoughts so far on what your brother's been doing?" Tom asked from back in Atlanta.

"Only that I think I have the easier job." I said with a chuckle. "Poor Henry's stuck in a tight spot and I wouldn't trade with him. I think he can handle it though, and better than I could."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate your confidence in him." Tom said. "We'll be right back after this commercial break."

"Thanks again." Daro said softly as he stood up, taking off the headset as he did.

"No problem, Daro." I informed him earnestly. "I enjoyed it as well."

The rest of the interviews went well, with only mild variations and more questions about my thoughts on Henry's mission. I imagined he'd been getting similar questions when he did an interview and I really hoped he was doing okay. The potential dangers for him were just as great as for me.

Shortly before take-off, I had a satellite conversation with dad, and we discussed the true nature of how the Major had been controlled into making his suicide bombing. He agreed with me that it needed to be investigated, and we discussed possible ways of that being done. The only thing we did decide on though was that I'd be coming back to Israel before heading home. He wanted to talk with Senator Crawley some more about things (Admiral Fullard was on a site inspection at the new San Francisco Naval Base).

The flight over Jordan was one of the most interesting flights I ever experienced on that plane. We climbed, we dove, we made sharp turns and if I hadn't had my seat belt tightly buckled, I'd have been severely bruised. All loose items had been locked down, and as it was, several items fell out, causing some minor bumps and bruises when they hit people. Still, we made it through the country without being spotted, only rising when we were directly under our escorts, and even they only detected us at the last minute.

The flight to Basra was fast, and trouble free. We landed in the early morning hours and most of us immediately went to sleep while American military crews serviced the plane under the watchful eyes of those still awake. A few hours later everyone but the plane crew was driven to a nearby headquarters where those who hadn't showered since we left the States got to do so, and I had a private brunch with the American and British Generals in charge of the area.

The two men were quite well aware of the items dad had given to me for discussion with the Ayatollah, and had in fact been the origin for some of them. They were both quite familiar with the region and its people and had presented some radical thinking that was quite needed for these negotiations. The UIC leadership had long used our country as the 'devil' for their people while enjoying a crippling grip on the western world with their supplies of oil. Those days were coming to an end though, especially with the changes caused by the Great Oil Crisis.

The world wasn't going to shift out of its oil-dependency anytime soon, but it was moving toward less usage that made the role of the Middle East less dominant. Within two years, the new Russian trans-Siberian pipeline would be complete, and oil would be more readily available to Europe from them than the tankers leaving Persian ports. The northern Iraq pipeline to Turkey was so damaged that the Russian pipeline would be completed before the new Iraq/UIC regime could make repairs and pump oil to Europe through Turkey.

Instead of fighting each other over the oil reserves found under the ocean floor in the Southeastern Asia sphere, the major countries in the area were now cooperating on funding five oil platforms to be manufactured and moved to the area. They would be sharing the proceeds in levels equal to their contribution, and the navies of all those countries would guard the platforms. When the second platform went operational in four years, they would deliver the death blow to the mid-East's chokehold on oil supplies. Instead of dictating terms for oil production, their oil would compete on a much more challenging global market.

We knew that, and they knew that. The State Department strongly suspected that this wasn't a move just to accomplish the more traditional goals that we expected, but rather to also secure their position economically through the next few years. These Generals were invaluable in giving me some insights into rumors from the local population, and when we took off into the air, I had even more confidence in how my negotiations would turn out.

Peter Tapers, the member of my detail who was perhaps the most deadly of them all at hand-to-hand combat and had an uncanny ability to melt into any crowd was also very fluent in the local languages. When we landed, he would be my 'translator' and would also be a bodyguard that wasn't expected, if things went wrong.

My body was so confused it had no idea if I should be asleep or awake, so I stayed awake going over and over the documents that had been prepared for this meeting. Knight and Darby had been working hard at getting the necessary binders together and the last minute confirmation meant that there was a lot of work to be done. Instead of the small, direct meeting I had been expecting, this was going to be a big one, with half the members of the UIC leadership, the Ayatollah, and the government leaders of several of the local countries attending.

There was another problem in that the culture had no respect for women, and in recent years had become even more fanatical about that aspect. Therefore, Jennifer, Martha and Nadine would be wearing head scarves and would not sit at the table. They would still be in the room and would have microphones under the scarves covering their faces, ready to give any advice into the earpiece I would be wearing. Instead, I would have Paul, Darby, Knight, Cyrus, and Botha, my support staff sitting in suits with me.

The news crews would be set up inside the outer rooms of the hotel ballroom where the meeting would take place, but it would be quite obvious that the six of us would be sitting across a table from nearly forty people, one more sign of the mentality they were approaching us with. It was the same mentality that was common to the schoolyard bully who surrounded himself with hangers-on, not only as sycophants who boosted his ego, but for the intimidation of those who might fight back instead of being intimidated. It was also something for their cameras to record, saying to their people 'see, we have brought the great Satan to his knees and now he cowers before us as we give him our terms.'

I had no problem with giving them that, so long as we walked away with what we wanted and what we needed.

The flight to Bahrain was relatively short, compared to the flight that had brought us to this point. The landing was rough, not because of poor flying skills, but because the runway itself was pitted, cracked, and all but unfit for air traffic. As we taxied into the hangar that had been provided, it was abundantly clear that this once-active airport was neglected, and had seen its better days many years ago. Still, it was functional and when I exited the plane an hour later, the fading heat of the day reminded me that the shade would be merciful to the crew who were staying with the plane.

A flotilla of vehicles arrived, all of them older black Mercedes-Benz 2004 luxury vehicles with tinted windows. Tapers met the drivers as they exited the cars. He spoke to them quickly in their native language as they handed him several sets of keys before leaving. One man did remain behind, the 'guide' that had been referenced in the arrangements. We didn't have to look around to know that soldiers were around, but they back were far enough to not be immediately obvious.

The security detail was dressed in desert fatigues now, and every single one of them looked far more comfortable than they did in Secret Service suits. They all carried the new M-21 assault weapons, much smaller than the M-16 and perfect for the operations likely to occur if things went wrong. While a team swept the vehicles for explosives and listening or recording devices, another team began to load them with baggage (and a few heavier weapons hidden in cases). Finally, we were ready to go and we got into the vehicles, heading into the city itself.

For this evening, we were staying at a large hotel that had once been a Sheraton. I'd been in hotels now all across the United States, and several hotels in countries around the world, but nothing was like this hotel. On the outside, it matched the drab, beige exteriors I'd seen as we drove through town, but inside it was sparkling and richly adorned. Thick woven carpets covered the floors and glass barriers lined the stairways, topped by gold handrails (that Nadine informed me were real gold). A swarm of porters began loading our baggage on golden-railed luggage carts and the hotel manager himself met Paul at the door, handing us several card-keys for our rooms.

Two sweeps of the rooms, twenty-six listening devices, four hard-wired cameras in various lighting equipments, and fourteen interruptions from apparently well-meaning hotel staff members later, we realized it would have been easier to stay on the plane. Paul stopped at that point, leaving the small camera Davies noticed as he was looking at a painting and a few others that had not been detected by the equipment we'd brought. We hadn't planned on giving them anything to use anyway, discussing Henry's mission mostly, and a few references to our routines for the next day.

A couple of things were very obvious from the behavior of our hosts. They were going out of their way to both intimidate, and not threaten us. Two years ago, bugging the hotel rooms like this just wasn't done! Sure, laser targeting of windows to overhear conversations, signals intercepts to listen in on phone and radio calls , but actually putting listening devices in was considered…rude. From the way they had been layered, and the conditions of the ones removed, they weren't meant to operate, just to let us know how serious they really took these talks.

It was the more subtle devices that were the serious efforts to find out what we were going to offer. Only a fool would have skipped the broadcasts and ignored the statements we'd released to the public. They had heard teasers of the wonderful offers we might make and the stick of military force that lay within the comments to the press. It had worked apparently, and I couldn't help but smile up at the camera still in the painting of my well-appointed room. I did have problems sleeping, no longer being use to sleeping alone, but having someone with me was just not possible here. However, Richardson came in after two hours of my tossing and turning, sitting himself in one of the chairs and leaning back before dozing off. For a moment, I had a flashback to that time in Idaho, when he was the only one of my detail I'd bonded, and I let out a relieved sigh, falling asleep within moments.

Time is subjective, a lesson that was brought home the next morning when, over what I would call a very interesting interpretation of the classic American breakfast, I watched a riot taking place in the darkness of Mexico City's night. It had begun while I was still asleep and, for the peopleinvolved, was taking place in what was my late yesterday evening. It was something to make the head spin if you thought too hard on it, but I was mostly worried about Henry. The riot was from about a million people protesting American involvement and demanding that we leave. It had turned violent when millions more who had protested FOR American involvement but had gone home after Henry's arrival, returned to the streets and the two groups clashed with each other.

The Mexican police and army were all but helpless to restore order, and Henry was urging calm, in both English and Spanish, while I was quite sure he was calling dad for more help. We were actually watching the BBC, not an American station and I was tempted to head back to the plane and get what direct information I could. I was worried about my brother, but there was nothing I could do. Our first meeting was scheduled for early today, and we had many things left to get ready.

Since the inclusion of women in active roles of the deliberations would be 'unseemly' for our hosts, Martha, Nadine, and Jennifer all had to dress in headgear that covered most of their faces and while not wearing the full robes like locals, they were all dressed in rather conservative dresses. Alan and Jimmy were busy making sure they had the appropriate binders and other items ready. Paul was giving quiet reminders to the security detail of each step along the way. Since Paul was needed at the table with me, Hollings would be in command of the detail outside the room.

At precisely 0815, we left the suite of rooms we'd been provided and headed down to the ballroom through the glittering, empty corridors and elevators of the hotel. On the ground floor, we were met by two men in suits and headscarves that bowed before speaking in fluent English that we were to follow them. There were many more soldiers visible here and a ring of soldiers and armored vehicles could be seen through the hotel's front entrance . Still, there was no feeling of imminent action, and I stayed fairly relaxed as we entered one of the grand ballrooms of the hotel.

This one had obviously been set up as a refreshment area for the negotiation teams. Several tables filled with coffee, juices, and refreshments were spread around the room, and several soldiers stood guard along the four walls. Hollings deployed the security detail among them, taking up similar positions as the protocols allowed. Already in the room were twenty-five men, dressed in clerical robes, business suits with headscarves, and several more in military uniforms of various countries in the UIC. I recognized the oldest man, with a long, white beard and very sharp eyes. He recognized me as well, and I approached with my retinue behind me. When I stood a polite distance from him, I bowed my head and greeted him in his own language. It was all I had time to learn, but it brought a small smile to his face.

"Welcome young Mr. Jacobs." He answered in slightly accented voice. It was much less accented than I'd heard last time on the phone. "I wasn't aware you had bothered to learn any of our language."

"I felt it was only proper to be able to say hello in the language of our host at the very least." I replied in English as well. "I am afraid that my education has a few holes in it yet, and I plan to fix them as soon as I can. Your language will be among the first I learn when I return home."

"Learning the languages of others is appropriate for any who would lead in the world." Ayatollah Khulari said in a voice that I had long since come to associate with a teacher speaking to students, or a religious leader to his flock.

"The President of the United States sends his greetings and good wishes, sir." I said, beginning the formal process of these meetings, sticking my hand out in the American fashion. He smiled at me, almost patronizingly, and spoke right before shaking my hand.

"I trust that is all he sends, and not threats of nuclear weapons?" Khulari said in a dry tone, his smile slipping into a slight sneer as he took my hand and shook it. For two years, I'd been preparing for a moment like this, and this time I didn't need any encouragement from dad to do what I did, but at least I did have his permission this time. It was only the lightest flick of my power, not really a controlling touch, rather a light feather brush that would reinforce any belief he had that what I said was absolutely true, a fact beyond doubt. I felt it sink into him, and detected nothing out of the ordinary from him.

"We still have those nuclear weapons, and the conditions of their use remain the same, sir." I said in a tone that was as respectful as I could get it to be, "however, the things we bring to the table should provide you and your people enough for us to reach an agreement."

"We do not appreciate negotiating under threats." He said in what was almost an angry tone as he withdrew his hand from mine. The feather touch of power I had used would remain long enough for another statement before it dissipated, and there'd been no visible reaction from him that it had been felt by him.

"No more than do we, and the riots of recent days are viewed by us as such a threat." I replied cautiously. He just stared at me, obviously debating another denial of involvement in those riots, but finally just nodded his head.

"Let me introduce you to the leaders of the United Islamic Council." He said, sweeping his arm in a grand gesture to the men around him. It was a good thing I had a perfect head for matching names to faces and remembering them later as I was introduced to leaders of twelve nations, and we got our first surprise from the UIC in that four of the men were the political and military leaders of two former Soviet nations: Uzbekistan and Tajikistan. That gave me my first clue as to what may be waiting for us as it was suggested we formally begin our negotiations and we were led into another room that featured a long table with several dozen chairs on one side, and a handful of chairs on the other. The cameras from both their news teams and ours were left behind as the doors closed behind us. There were no soldiers, no guards in here, just the negotiating teams and a few assistants who would stand behind the table (including Martha, Nadine, and Jennifer).

"The United States has requested a meeting with the UIC, and we are here to listen to what your government has to say." A small man, wearing a business suit and seated next to the Ayatollah said when everyone had been seated and reintroduced. His name was Falim al-Saliyah, the official political head of the UIC.

"I am Dylan Jacobs, and on behalf of the President of the United States, I thank you for agreeing to this meeting." I said from a seat across the table as Jimmy and Alan began to hand around several blue leather binders to each of the men.

"Surely the American President would send a man, rather than a child if he were serious about these talks." A General from Egypt said with a snort as Alan handed him a binder. The man took another look at Alan and then snorted again. "Or is the United States now led by children?"

"Even children can be dangerous, sir." I replied with a toothsome smile of my own. "As it is, I am a senior advisor to the President, a graduate of Harvard University, and fully credentialed as you will see on the left side of the binder you have just been handed. On the right, you will see the authority of the United States in commencing these negotiations in accordance with the Reykjavik Accords. What is agreed to here, will be binding on all countries of those Accords, which remains in effect for another calendar year."

"Do you wish to see our credentials as well?" Khulari asked in an amused tone as he flipped open the binder briefly and scanned through the top pages.

"As we are the petitioner in this discussion, we have no need to ask." I answered politely, far more politely than I felt like being. "We know you have the authority to speak for those that we need to hear what we have to say. We are honored that men of your positions would take the time to listen to us directly instead of through your ministers, as would be common. The United States hopes that we will be able to make the time you spend here worth your presence."

"What is it that the United States wishes to discuss?" al-Saliyah asked with a slightly raised eyebrow. This was the part of negotiations that could take the longest, agreeing as to what the negotiation was about.

"Two years ago, the world nearly imploded on itself when disaster struck the ordered distribution of oil throughout the world." I began slowly. The wording was carefully done, laying no blame on anyone. "Oil from your countries helped the rest of the world to begin a recovery that continues today, and while you have received some compensation for that assistance, that compensation will not carry you into the future. As you are aware, we too realize that the changes in the world's infrastructure from that crisis will lead to eventual impoverishment for your nation. We are here to offer you involvement in new technologies and economic alliances that will see you past the days when your oil becomes less important to the world."

"Shouldn't there be discussion on the present, first?" Khulari asked in a chiding tone. "The future is all well and good, but there are important issues that we feel must be resolved, including the continued American support for Israeli outlaws, and their continued occupation of lands to which they have no right and the outrageously low prices for our oil."

"Israel is an issue that is more appropriate for other discussions." I countered. "Rather, now is the time to discuss our future partnerships because if we do not begin now, it will be too late for you to take advantage of them in the future."

"Do you threaten us with your nuclear weapons already?" al-Saliyah demanded sharply and I smiled.

"I have made no mention of nuclear weapons or military actions, nor do I hope to do so while we are here." I retorted in a calm voice. "The use of force is the choice of last resort in relations between nations, and we believe that there is much more we have to offer than the violence of guns, bombs, or mobs."

"Let us hear more of these items you wish to discuss." Khulari said and, with those words, I could see the men around the table relax slightly, which served to confirm exactly who was in charge on their side of the table.

"Within five years, new sources of oil and reduced demand because of new technologies will see a forty-percent reduction in dependence on oil from your nations." I began in clear, concise tones. "During that time, your supply will diminish to a point that nearly one-half of all wells in the region will be economically unsuitable for continued operation. Your need for either increasing revenues now or finding some other source for revenue production is abundantly clear, and understandable. Currently, your primary source of income is oil production. It has been the basis of your economy for generations and you are the first leaders to face the possible loss of that revenue."

"Your figures are slightly inaccurate." Al-Saliyah said with a slight sneer.

"If they are in any way inaccurate, it is because they are too optimistic." I shot back with a slightly raised eyebrow. "The United States is not here to lie to you. We are here to reach a solution that will help all of us, equally. We know that even with the new oil supplies we are developing in Alaska, the Mexican oil fields, and other resources, America's needs as the leading manufacturer in the world will continue to outpace our production. We will need you, although not at a level that will continue to support your economies as we have in the past. Therefore, we are prepared to offer you new methods of generating revenue. The packets now being handed out to you detail the harnessing of one of our world's most plentiful sources of power, the sun, and also of the wind."

"These are not new technologies." The Syrian Prime Minister said in Arabic (translated by Tapers).

"The principles of these technologies are not new." I answered immediately. "Though what we are able to do with them is new. Research for new photovoltaic cells was underway at the time of the Great Crisis, and has been increased since then. The newest models we are testing in our Nevada and New Mexico desert regions are now producing the same amount of power as a 3 megawatt plant using the same amount of space as that plant. These tests were conducted during the winter months, and power production is expected to be higher during summer months. Wind production is slightly less effective, but also increasing. With these technologies, and new power transportations systems we are perfecting, you can turn your desert regions into power production facilities that will allow you to transfer power throughout much of Europe, Indochina, and to your own populations with pennies on the dollar for annual maintenance as compared to your oil production costs. In return we ask for continued output levels of oil at the current levels, moderate price caps with annual increases in ranges based on economic indicators as listed in your packets. We will also offer international manufacturing licenses on new products that require environments many of your countries possess. I ask that you read over these packets, and that we meet to discuss these ideas and come to an agreement wherever possible."

"Who cares about these techno-gadgets when Israel still exists?" The Syrian Prime Minister shouted and I looked at him calmly.

"Israel has existed now for over half a century." I said calmly. "It has survived several armed conflicts, and decades of terror bombings. We will not cease our support for them no matter what position you take. If you would rather see your people starve than live with the status quo, then that will be your choice and these negotiations can end before they have truly begun. If you wish to see your people destroyed, then we will oblige you. Israel is a small country, smaller than any of those represented here. They will not make any more advances into your territory; they will live their lives within their current boundaries. If you wish to discuss that situation further at some future time, I am sure something can be arranged. Now is not that time though. If you wish to end these talks by pushing for such a discussion now, I will be on my plane and leaving by nightfall."

"So we once again hear American ultimatums." Al-Saliyah sneered.

"Just as I once again hear your ultimatums regarding Israel." I retorted, allowing a hint of anger in my voice. "If you want to raise issues that you know will be show-stoppers, I will leave instead of waste our time. Then, we can meet again on the field of battle, if that is what you prefer."

"Ah, now we get to the threats of force." A General further down the table said with a long sigh.

"There is no threat of force." I answered. "I am not telling you to agree with what I'm putting before you. I do not say you have to agree, I do not say to accept what we offer off-hand. I ask you to look at it, I ask you to consider it. Most certainly, if after you look at it and you have questions or changes you want considered, we will listen and we will consider changes based on the merits of what you say. The reason why we are here, now, this day, is because you have slowed down the regular flow of oil. No, don't waste your breathe on denying any such calculated involvement. Everyone here knows the truth and it does us no good to deny it for diplomatic posturing. You could have had this offer on your table a month ago for your consideration, but you preferred conflict. You know as well as I do that our only interest is to make sure that we have enough oil to continue our recovery until we don't need you anymore."

"So the great America reveals its true nature at last." Khulari said with a pleased grin.

"Just as it does you no good to deny your involvement in the riots, it does us no good to deny our true purposes when you understand them as well as I do." I told him and saw him lean back in his chair, poising his hands before him thoughtfully. "The United States is changing, moving in a new direction, different from the past. Part of that is we wish to deal more honestly, more openly with our fellow nations. I will not hide that if these negotiations fail, it will mean war. American troops and ships will flood your oil fields, seizing them for our use. We will use every weapon at our disposal to continue meeting the needs of our people. In the past, we had nothing more to offer than we had at the time, and that was not enough for you.

"When we looked at your situation, when we saw the unrest growing, and we knew that the current agreements were not truly fair to you, we put together this offer." I continued before anyone could react to my references to military strength. "We hoped to discuss this when there was no crisis facing us, when there was more time for thought and consideration, but you refused those requests for discussion. What you see here, now, is what we would want if we were in your situation. Here is a real plan to give you financial independence without oil. With this, you can potentially have more influence on your neighbors than you do now. We are not you, however, and there are things we may have missed, things which need adjustment. You may have ideas we haven't thought of and which you can now present.

"While you get these new technologies that will lead you into the future, we get the resources we need to also move into the future." I concluded. "Our goal is not to trick you, to lead you astray, or to prove ourselves superior. We are here to get what we need for now and the future, and in exchange for your giving us that, we will give you what you need for the future. For the present, you will now, and in the future continue to receive the cash you need to meet your needs as well. This is not an offer between an Empire and a Colony, or between a powerful nation and a weak nation, rather it is an offer from one nation that needs what another has; an offer between economic equals. If you wish to turn your back on this totally, if you would rather debate issues that our fathers and grandfathers debated, and likely our own grandchildren will still debate without resolution, then I will not waste our time any further. If you wish to take the time to look this over, to consider what we have offered, and if you wish to discuss how we can reach agreement on these principles, then I will be happy to meet with you again, soon."

"I believe tomorrow will suffice for an initial review." Khulari said with a nod of his head. "For now, why don't we enjoy some refreshments next door?"

"A good idea, sir." I agreed with a nod. Everyone stood, and Khulari's gesture as we moved down the table indicated he wanted me to walk by his side. I knew Paul bristled when, after the table no longer separated us, the elderly man moved to my side and put an arm around my shoulder; an almost fatherly gesture. We moved out of the room that way, and into the previous room with the refreshments. The cameras and lights were focused on us. I knew that the picture that was being sent out would look like an older, wiser man counseling a young student. Many Americans might not like it, but his people would and it was a bone I tossed willingly to him.

Pride is a delicate thing, and it can often be the downfall of great people if others knew how to use it carefully. This man and his people had pride, and seeing their religious leader in such a position with the young, brash American would beef up that pride, and tone down the hostility. The goal here was two-fold. We needed the oil and expending military resources was not the preferred solution. Further, something more was needed for the future plans dad had, and this would put that into place as well.

"You speak boldly, and openly for an American negotiator." The Ayatollah Khulari said as we moved towards a corner of the room where two seats waited, one a high-backed chain in which he sat and the other a lower chair obviously for me. Again it was the image of the wizened counselor and youthful supplicant being presented for the cameras. Two servants brought a wonderfully spiced coffee that I thought to myself would be a nice change on the plane, and he was silent, his posture waiting for an answer, but I didn't speak until there was no one near.

"If we wanted to give you honeyed words and tell you that things would continue as they had before the first Crisis, we would have sent a career diplomat." I answered. "The world cannot continue as if the past has not happened, and old ways will not work in the new world we face."

"You said we were economic equals in there, a qualification on equality." He said after another sip of the coffee. "Do you imply we are not otherwise equal?"

"We are men, as God created us." I answered after another sip of my own coffee. It really was quite tasty. "The United States is founded on the ideal that all men are created equal. That does not mean we are equal all of our lives. Placed side-by-side, and looked at as humans, one of your people and an American are both human, but place them in a car and watch them drive, their natural abilities and skills will make them different. As a government, it is our job to put the interests of our people first, but that does not mean everyone else is worthless. It only means that we will try to make sure that it is the American who gets the car first. Your person can still drive another car, or even get the same car after our American has one, or at the same time, but if there is only one car, we will do what we can to give it to our person."

"An interesting analogy." He nodded at me. "Continue."

"In the past, the approach has been to get the car for the American, and maybe even a second one, and if you get one as well, then you got lucky." I said and he nodded in agreement. "What they failed to see in the past was that when your person saw us with two cars and they had none, they got angry, they saw us as keeping them from having a car of their own, and in our pride we didn't care. Now, today, we see that in order to get our people what they need, we have something of value to offer you, and it does not hurt our people to give it to you. We cannot provide power to Europe the way you could with this plan, we could not profit from it, but this way, we can profit from it indirectly, and at the same time help you get a car for your people."

"Yet you still threaten us with violence if we do not agree." He pointed out and I grinned slightly.

"You already threaten us through violence with the withholding of what we need." I said with a slight shrug. "Economically we are equal, but militarily we are not. If we must, we can take what we need from you and you cannot stop us. In the past, the strong have always taken from those not as strong. A few years ago, my father and I took what we needed and paid only what we could afford at the time from you. That is the prerogative of the strong. With all due respect, you misjudged our desperation at the time. Now, we try to make amends in our way, and establish better relations. We are all men of faith, sir, and we understand each other better because of that."

"The United States is not the only nation with nuclear weapons." Khulari stated and I let a small smile creep onto my face. I wondered how long it would take for him to bring this up. We'd gotten the flash message on the flight, and it had proved to be useful.

"If you are referring to the Krasniyy Rabotaet, then I regret to inform you that it was sent to the bottom of the ocean by the time these talks began." I told him softly, still with that small smile. "The Russian fleet command worried when it lost contact with their nuclear-powered ballistic missile submarine. When it sank the attack boat that found her, they called us and one of our Seawolf submarines found her. She was ordered to sink the renegade boat at the time our meeting was to begin. I must say the Russians are quite interested in finding out how you convinced her captain to mutiny against their command."

"What makes you so sure we were responsible?" He asked me with his own small smile.

"At exactly 1323 hours zulu two days ago, a burst transmission was sent from the submarine using a French satellite to contact your command in Tehran. A response was sent fifteen minutes later and the submarine has gone to periscope depth every two hours since the Seawolf assumed position behind her." I answered without changing my expression.

"We still have nuclear bombs from Pakistan." His smile was frozen on his face as well.

"They can hit nothing important." I answered with a shrug. "Israel's defenses will destroy any missile you launch against them. Any other country that you could fire at would respond in kind, and any naval vessel you approach will destroy the plane long before they get in range to drop their bomb. They are useless to you. Militarily, you are not a significant threat."

"Even if you invade, my people will resist." He said firmly, the smile gone now. "You learned a hard lesson with Iraq, and it will come even harder to you if you invade again."

"Nuclear weapons will take care of everything except where the oil fields are." I said in a very, very low voice, no longer smiling either. "We have enough bullets for the rest and plenty of eager people to take care of the work. When there is no more oil to be had, we can bring them home or install solar panels and sell electricity to Europe directly. The world will protest, we'll pay them in oil. Dad will be remembered as someone who murdered more people than Hitler, but America will thrive, and you will be dead. Your faith produces people willing to give their lives to blow up a few people. Dad is a man of faith as well, and being vilified by history is a small price to pay for doing God's work, don't you think?"

"Harsh words from a fair face." He stated as he sat back in his chair, a little paler than before. My slight touch earlier had reinforced his belief that we would use nuclear weapons, and it was coming home to roost now.

"We do not want that solution, sir." I told him in a voice that was still calm. "Militarily, we are not equals and in all likelihood we will never be equals. Economically, though, we have much to offer each other in equality. We do not bargain from a position of strength, because you have what we need now. Nor do we demand what we need and rob you for it because we are stronger. What I have said to you now is not to make you agree to our offer. It is not perfect, and there is room for change. If they are reasonable and fair, you will get those changes. We will walk away from these negotiations into the dawn of a new day, bright with the possibilities for us both. There are no demands for silly things like treating women in your countries differently. We do not care if you live by the laws of Islam or the modern laws of liberalism. Those are your affairs and we will not interfere."

"Your troops in Basra." He stated, and I now leaned back with a soft smile. This was one thing he could give his leaders as a clear victory.

"Our General promised the civilians there certain things to get their cooperation during the crisis time." I stated. "Those promises will be fully completed in three years, at which time we will depart forever. What happens after that is no longer our concern. Our commitments will have been fulfilled."

"I see." Khulari said softly, and we were both silent as we examined each other. His face was well-tanned, and lined from the desert environment. We sipped our coffee in that silence, both studying the other carefully. He finally nodded to himself and smiled gently towards me. "Tell me, how do you find Bahrain?"

"It is a city long past its prime." I answered honestly. "Since its oil has dried up, so has its spirit, its vitality. What is left is nothing but a shadow of what once was."

"But it still serves a purpose." Khulari said firmly and I nodded in agreement.

"A hive full of scum and villainy." I quoted from a movie I had loved as kid. "A place for the faithful to let out the excesses of their humanity, and return home purged of the vices, keeping the vices out of their home and family life."

"Without a place to go and indulge it would fester and take root in their homes." Khulari said in agreement. "Tell me, is the observation your own or fed to you?"

"A little of both." I answered without taking offense. "The reality of its importance is mine, and how it can be used in a strict society as a pressure valve, to keep things from exploding in revolution. Taken to extreme, you find the decadence that was common in America before the crisis, and will fester again soon."

"How will your father handle that in the days to come, as a man of God as well as a leader of your country?" Khulari asked and I was a little surprised at the question. I had not expected this for the course of our discussion.

"In the end, it will be the American people who must face the decision of how to handle their own future." I answered after a moment of thought. "They will be faced with a choice, and we can only pray they choose correctly. The horse can be led to water, but it must choose to drink."

"Or be made to believe that drinking is the only real choice it has." Khulari said, and I found myself chuckling softly. He actually did as well and nodded in approval.

"That is a point many people never consider." I replied after a few minutes.

"I believe it is one that you and your father both have considered." Khulari said and only smiled when I didn't answer. He finished his coffee and stared at me for another few minutes while I finished my own. The caffeine was really strong because I could feel a slight rush in my metabolism. "You will attend prayers tonight with me. Observe politely and we will speak afterwards of how one as young as you has grown so wise. Tomorrow, we will meet again, your small group and the inner circle of my leadership team. We will discuss the specifics of your plans. The riots will stop, oil will flow."

"I will be honored to attend." I said with a soft bow of my head and he smiled at me again.

"Tell me, if you may, what will become of your brother's mission to Mexico?" He asked me in a curious voice. "Do things proceed as you have hoped?"

"I believe they are proceeding well." I answered cautiously. "I believe every side will walk away feeling as if they earned something to be proud of in that situation."

"Are they your economic equals as well?" He asked with a predatory smile, a smile I returned.

"No, they are not." I answered him honestly and he laughed with a loud, belly laugh.

We rose from our chairs after that, and he made a short speech before the cameras, telling them that the negotiations were going well and would be recessed until tomorrow morning. His words were a clear message to his people that the need for rioting was over. I kept my words brief as well, mostly to the point that while many issues remained to be discussed, there would be no Second Great Oil Crisis.

All around the world, people let out their breath with a sigh of relief and set about their days with much more relaxed minds.