Expedite.
United Nations Special Envoy Vavra Bey was living proof that beauty is not something reserved solely for the young. Her graduation picture from the University of Istanbul showed a rather plain, dark-haired young woman, stocky in build and sober in demeanor. For her, beauty had not come until the onset of silver hair, crow’s-feet, and a double chin — the beauty born out of poise and experience, courage and confidence. Humor had come as well, but she could hold that well concealed behind her dark eyes. She was the iron-willed grandmother figure who could effortlessly invoke either adoration or stark fear as she desired. This applied not only to her children and grandchildren, but equally to the statesmen and dignitaries she confronted on the diplomatic battlegrounds of the world.
Now, seated at the end of the scarred conference table, she frowned to herself.
“What do you think, Madam Envoy?” The very formal and very young Norwegian who served as her assistant blotted at his face with a sweat-dampened handkerchief. The air-conditioning of the Mamba Point Hotel had yet to be put back in order, and the meeting room sweltered despite the windows opened to the sea breeze.
“I’m not sure, Lars. We can only hope for reason.”
In her heart, Vavra Bey already knew what the answer was going to be.
Voices murmured in the corridor beyond the meeting room and the two pistol-armed sentries flanking the door snapped to attention. The envoy and the other members of the small U.N. delegation rose to their feet as Premier General Belewa returned to the room.
He was not alone. His chief of staff, Brigadier Atiba, followed him in, taking a step aside and coming to a smart parade rest near the door. A second man also followed, but he stayed close at Belewa’s shoulder, as if seeking to garner an enhanced presence from the tall black warrior.
Dasheel Umamgi, the ambassador-at-large of the Algerian Revolutionary Council, wore the robes and headdress of a Muslim imam. However, Vavra Bey suspected that he had no right to the title either by education or true belief. It was just that a proclaimed religious fanaticism had been one of the better ways to achieve power in the howling chaos that had engulfed Algeria during the first years of the new century. Revolutionary Algeria had taken the place of Libya as the premier troublemaker of North Africa, and it was no surprise to find them active here.
Gray bearded and dark eyed, the mock holy man leveled a long and cold stare at Vavra. He hated her, because she too was Muslim and yet was not a true believer — in him, at any rate. She was pleased to say he had other reasons to hate her as well.
General Belewa gave an acknowledging nod to the U.N. emissaries and resumed his seat at his end of the table. Bey sank into her own chair, not speaking, allowing the General the first word.
“Madam Envoy,” Belewa began slowly, “I have been in consultation with my staff and advisers and I do not know what more we can say on this matter. We flatly deny the charges leveled against us by the government of Guinea. Above and beyond our stated policy and desire for friendship with all nations, the West African Union is far too concerned with its own internal affairs to undertake this kind of… adventurism with its neighboring states. If Guinea is suffering from an internal rebellion, as we believe to be the case, have them look to making things right with their own discontented population. That is where the solution lies, not with accusing us of aggression.”
“And yet,” Bey replied, “even you must admit, General Belewa, that one of the major causes of discontent within Guinea currently stems from the massive influx of Union refugees into that nation. There are over a hundred and eighty thousand listed in the U.N. aid camps alone. We have no idea how many others are wandering and starving in the countryside.”
Belewa shrugged and leaned back into his chair. “Nor do we, Madam Envoy. We have no control over this state of affairs either. These individuals have left Union territory illegally and without proper documentation. They have entered Guinea the same way. This is a criminal matter for the Guinean authorities to deal with. We have no responsibility in this matter. There is nothing we can do.”
“There is, General. You can open your borders and permit these refugees to return to their homes within the Union, thus ending this crisis for both your nation and Guinea.”
The tall black man shook his head decisively. “That will be impossible. As I said, there is no documentation on these individuals. How are we to know who is a true citizen of the Union and who is not? And we suspect that there may be many criminals, terrorists, and malcontents numbered among these so-called refugees. We are no better able to deal with this problem than Guinea is.”
“General Belewa.” Vavra Bey’s voice lowered a tone. “These are citizens of the Union. The interviews we have conducted in the refugee camps all indicate the same thing, that these people were driven across the border by Union troops we believe acting under your orders.”
“We deny these charges categorically,” Belewa replied flatly. “As I said, there are many malcontents among these individuals — revolutionaries, criminals, and members of the old regimes fleeing justice. People with reason to lie about the true state of affairs in the West African Union. Our borders will remain closed to these disruptive elements, and any attempt to return them to Union territory will be met by armed force.”
“I see.” Vavra Bey’s words hung isolated in the air for a moment. “And do you also still deny that the armed forces of the West African Union have been performing acts of aggression against the nation of Guinea in preparation for an invasion and military takeover?”
“We do. The government of Guinea is seeking to shift the blame for its own failings onto the West African Union.”
“The intelligence reports turned over to the United Nations by a number of major world powers indicate something quite different, General.”
“Then the United Nations should look to the self-serving agendas of these world powers to learn why they wish to defame my nation!”
Vavra Bey paused for a long moment, her face immobile, her eyes lowered to the scratched tabletop, her mind seeking for any diplomatic possibility or potential not yet explored. Decades of diplomatic instinct told her they were at the point of decision and commitment. When she looked up to speak again, it would be to start them all down a precarious and potentially bloody path.
She lifted her eyes.
“General Belewa, as you are fully aware, the intent of this commission was a final effort to find a diplomatic solution to a situation that threatens to disrupt the entirety of West Africa. That solution has not been found. The West African Union stands accused of engaging in a campaign of aggression and conquest against a neighboring state. That aggression stands self-evident. Likewise self-evident is the abuse by the West African Union of its own citizens in the face of all accepted standards of human rights and justice. Such actions are no longer acceptable to the world community.”
The U.N. envoy rose to her feet, her erectness giving the impression that she was taller then she was. “A vote of censure against the West African Union, United Nations Resolution 26867, has been passed by the Security Council. A second resolution, 26868, calling for a U.N. embargo of all armaments, petroleum, and other militarily-related materials, has also been passed but placed in abeyance pending the outcome of these talks. In the meantime, U.N. forces have been moved into position to both enforce this mandate, if necessary, and to assist the government of Guinea in maintaining the security of its national borders.