“Did you just threaten me?” Al-Hassani had asked.
“Of course not, Mr. President,” Lucente lied. “You know how much we have done to rebuild your country. I have no doubt you will now help us in our time of need.”
“Or else?”
“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way,” Lucente replied.
Al-Hassani wasn’t convinced. “But didn’t you just?”
Al-Hassani could still recall Lucente pausing, processing, and then leaning forward and saying in no uncertain terms, “Look, Mr. President, there is no question you have a formidable military. You now have two hundred thousand troops, armed with the latest weaponry. I know this full well. After all, NATO and the Americans recruited them, trained them, equipped them, and helped them gain valuable combat experience in crushing the insurgency, did we not? But do not deceive yourself, Mr. President. Your forces are not yet ready to face the combined forces of a unified Western alliance that is determined to achieve energy security at all costs. I urge you, my friend, do not miscalculate, as Iraqi leaders historically are wont to do. Your country cannot afford a misstep, not in this current global environment.”
To which Al-Hassani had countered, “We want Russia’s seat at the U.N. Security Council.”
“So does Israel,” Lucente replied.
“Nevertheless,” the Iraqi leader explained, “if you want our oil, we want a permanent seat on the Security Council. It can be Russia’s. It can be new. It does not matter to me, but it is nonnegotiable. And we want assurances that neither the E.U. nor the U.S. nor the U.N. will interfere with our efforts to unify the region’s political and economic structures.”
“You mean you want carte blanche to rebuild the Babylonian Empire?” Lucente had asked. The man had a penchant for stating the obvious.
“My dear friend,” Al-Hassani explained, “my people have the same right to reorganize our part of the world as you had to reorganize Europe in a fashion that suited your interests. But let me be clear. We are not asking for permission. We are looking for assurances that no one will interfere.”
“Assurances?” Lucente asked. “What kind of assurances?”
“Withdrawal of foreign troops from the region,” Al-Hassani said. “Coordination of all relief and reconstruction efforts through my office, not through the U.N. Guaranteed accession to the WTO. And a guarantee on Jerusalem.”
Al-Hassani recalled most clearly the feigned look of surprise on Lucente’s face at that moment. It was all an act. Lucente was a congenital liar, the Iraqi had concluded. But it didn’t really matter. For the moment, at least, Al-Hassani had all the leverage he needed to get what he wanted. And he had no hesitation to use it.
“And just what kind of guarantee on Jerusalem are you looking for?” Lucente had asked.
“The U.N. must internationalize the holy sites,” Al-Hassani replied. “They must seize control of the Temple Mount in particular. The Jews must not be allowed to build anything there — not a Temple, not a visitor center, not a falafel stand. Nothing. Ever. Period. End of story.”
“Or else?” Lucente asked.
“Oh, my friend, I wouldn’t put it that way,” Al-Hassani had replied, a twinkle in his eye.
Lucente forced a smile. “But didn’t you just?”
At that moment, the deal seemed done. Or so Al-Hassani had thought. Since that day, he had, in fact, been granted the permanent seat on the U.N. Security Council, instead of Israel. He now had his WTO membership, and nearly all foreign troops had been removed from the region, except those assisting humanitarian relief and reconstruction efforts, all of which were now being coordinated through his office, just as he had demanded.
On Jerusalem, however, Lucente had balked, saying he simply couldn’t get it done. Lucente claimed the U.S. had too much leverage, that while the MacPherson administration was not formally backing Israeli prime minister David Doron’s decision to build the Third Jewish Temple, the White House wasn’t opposing it either. Doron was taking this as a green light and was proceeding with all haste.
Al-Hassani’s provincial governors were furious, as was Tariq. They insisted that Al-Hassani force Lucente — who was now the U.N. secretary-general, after all — to stop the Israelis or each of them would break away from the Eurasian empire and declare their own independence. The Kurds were already making good on their threats. The rest of the Eurasian governors were calculating that Al-Hassani couldn’t risk a further breakup of the alliance he had so carefully constructed over the past year.
Unfortunately, they were right. Al-Hassani had to find a way to force Lucente’s hand. He had to find a way to stop the Temple from being built. He had tried Operation Black Box, but that had failed disastrously. He had been able to seize the treasures of neither the Copper Scroll nor the Ark of the Covenant. Now the Jews had both, and with them an unprecedented zeal to finish the Temple as quickly as possible.
But now, it seemed, fate had handed the Iraqi leader a gift.
25
Prime Minister Liu Xing Zhao stepped to the podium.
Only forty-nine, he was the seventh premier of the modern People’s Republic of China and by far the youngest. Widely perceived by his countrymen to be the most physically and intellectually vigorous of the nation’s recent leaders, he had a well-known passion for afternoon tennis and a legendary photographic memory. He had a penchant for finely tailored black silk suits, like the one he was wearing today, and a great command of China’s rapidly growing economy, carefully cultivated during his tenure as finance minister before rising to foreign minister and then being confirmed by the National People’s Congress to be prime minister just three years earlier.
Amid a dizzying array of flashbulbs and the sounds of hundreds of autoadvancers, Premier Zhao cleared his throat and addressed not only the throng of reporters but a worldwide television audience to whom he was now speaking live.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it with a deep sense of concern that I have asked you to gather on such short notice. As you know, there are more than two thousand journalists from China and abroad covering the current session of the National People’s Congress. Allow me to say to all of you here that on behalf of my entire nation, I unequivocally condemn these dastardly terrorist attacks on the United States. I offer the American people any and all assistance they will need in the coming days and months. And my government and I stand ready to work with the American people and their government to hunt down those responsible for these atrocities and bring them to justice.”
The premier paused for a moment to let his translators catch up.
“Furthermore, I want to say in no uncertain terms that the People’s Republic of China was not in any way responsible for these attacks. Let me repeat: the People’s Republic of China played absolutely no role in these attacks, nor would we.”
A murmur spread through the press corps.
“Based on the latest available information, my generals tell me that these were not attacks from intercontinental ballistic missiles. Nor were these attacks launched from submarines. They appear to be the work of short-range missiles launched from container ships operating near the Atlantic and Pacific coastlines of the United States, and I can assure you that not a single ship owned or operated by the PRC is currently — or has been in the last twenty-four hours — within eight hundred miles of the American homeland. What’s more, the container ships that we do currently have on the high seas, headed for the U.S., have all been ordered to turn around and come back to Chinese ports to be reinspected. We have also ordered all Chinese submarines and other naval vessels to return to our ports to make absolutely clear to the American authorities that we have no hostile intent toward the American people whatsoever.”