“General Eaglefield,” the courier said breathlessly. “It’s North Korea, sir. You’d better come.”
Colonel Aloahiray applauded as he jumped to his feet. The audience rose quickly.
“Bravo, bravo. We have done it, my fellow warriors. Today we have changed the world and we have done it without destroying ours to do it.” He clenched his fist.
“Go, and spread the news to everyone. As of now, this headquarters is the supreme military headquarters for the Islamic Republic of North Africa and Barbary. I am the supreme military commander for every military unit, Air Force element, and Navy ship between Morocco and Egypt. By this time next week, Sudan will have joined our new country. Well done!”
He reached across the seats and grabbed Walid. Pulling the man to him, the colonel hugged him and planted a kiss on his forehead and both cheeks before releasing him. “Can you feel the excitement in the air, Walid? The electricity? Can you feel the call of destiny to our people?” Alqahiray’s eyes sparkled with emotion, looking to Walid like small pools at the bottom of a dark canyon.
When Walid failed to reply, Colonel Alqahiray continued. “Well, I can.
I feel it in every fiber of my being. This is a glorious moment for us — a most glorious event!”
“Yes, Colonel,” Walid answered, his voice low. “Our new country is something that must be treated as a mother would care for her newborn infant. With tender care we must nurture it to adulthood.” His voice grew in strength. “We may spill some of the nourishment as we feed it, and we will clean the waste from its mistakes as we grow. It is time for politicians and not for the military to lead the way. It is a time for us to show the world that we are a civilized military responsible to a civilian authority. We must be an instrument to guard the government so they may determine in peace how we will be governed!”
The colonel stepped back and grinned. “Ah, Walid. Foolish words — profound, but foolish. Politicians are shit. They only argue and seek material gains for themselves. It is we, the new military, who will guide the politicians in how they form the new government. We will take a lesson from the Turkish General Staff. As they guide their government behind the scenes, so shall we.”
Colonel Alqahiray raised his arms, his hands outstretched. “Did you hear what Mintab said? That’s camel dung for the Western press! Do you think we can sit idly by and let such a radical government germinate? A government where the people are manipulated to whatever designs that a good orator desires? People need discipline.
Discipline that only we can give. We will tell the world what they want to hear, but we will do what is right for us. Do you think I intend to let the Palestinian trash into our country? That is more foolish political talk. Wherever Palestinian refugees have been accepted, there has been trouble. Look at Lebanon and Jordan.” He spat on the carpet. “That is what I think of that idea.”
Walid and Samir walked to the end of the row and approached the colonel. The other two intelligence officers stepped apart. The colonel’s cousin moved beside Alqahiray.
“Ah, Colonel,” said Walid. “I think I understand. What you intend is a military dynasty to drive the Arab world and build an empire.
Unfortunately, the majority of us believe this is an opportunity to build an Islamic nation dedicated to Mohammed and the Moslem faith. Are you not a Moslem, my colonel?” Walid stood directly in front of the Colonel.
Colonel Alqahiray’s eyes blazed in anger. Walid imagined the canyon pools bubbling with heat, and quickly looked away.
The colonel pushed Walid backward. Walid stumbled a couple of steps.
“What’s the matter with you?” Alqahiray demanded. “How dare you speak to me like this! I am your superior. I promoted you and I can disgrace you, like this.” He snapped his fingers at Walid.
“Everything you are is because of me and don’t forget it. I could have you shot, as quick as this.” He snapped his fingers again. This time six inches from Walid’s face. His anger grew, fueled by his arrogance.
The cousin reached for his pistol. Samir pulled his first and shot the man. The pistol clattered as it hit the floor and rolled across the tiles. The shot echoed in the small theater. The two operations officers reached for their pistols, but stopped and quickly raised their hands when the two Intelligence Officers swung their guns on them. Smoke curled from the barrel of Samir’s pistol, and the smell of cordite quickly filled the room. To one side, the two senior security guards trained their weapons on the two operations officers.
“Keep your hands raised, please,” Walid said firmly. “Don’t try anything and no one will get hurt.” His hands shook.
“Help me! I’ve been shot!” cried the cousin, holding both hands over a spurting stomach wound. Blood flowed between the man’s fingers, forming a spreading pool around him.
Colonel Alqahiray looked down at his cousin. “Sorry, Mah-mud. It’s a stomach wound, and a bad one, it seems. I think you should pray to Allah.” He turned back to Walid, ignoring the weapon pointed at him by Major Samir. He focused on Walid, oblivious to the continuing entreaties from his dying cousin for help.
The security guards herded the two operations officers against the far wall.
“Walid, what is the meaning of this?” the colonel asked in a dejected voice, hoping the change of tactic would work. “Why have you betrayed me? It was I who pulled you along with me wherever I have gone. Have you not been taken care of? Where is your loyalty?”
“Colonel, you have never taken me along with you!” Walid yelled. “You kept me with you because you needed someone to fawn over your every whim and desire. I met those qualifications. I foamed at the mouth like a panting dog. When we started on this path two years ago, your dedication to the cause and the sterling principles of Islam inspired me. They inspired all who followed you. Months ago some of us began to suspect that your dedication was rhetoric and little else. This realization was like the disappointment you feel when you first discover that your father is not omniscient, but has faults. You were that father to us. So, no, this was not an easy decision that brought us to this point.”
Walid leaned forward and removed the colonel’s pistol. “We cannot allow personal ambition to override the true purpose of the revolution.
You yourself two years ago would have agreed. Not so today. As our new nation tries to escape the pains of birth, it is time for you to step down. You will retire to the countryside as a founding father of the new nation. In short, my colonel, you are being retired.” Walid thought he detected a slight sag in the colonel’s shoulders.
“Colonel Alqahiray, you will be retired as a hero — to a position of honor. A position that requires twenty-four-hour protection against the enemies who would see your death as a strike against the Islamic Republic. Your advice will be asked and your thoughts will be promulgated to provide guidance and encouragement to our people. You will be seen as a fountainhead of Islamic thought. To help you with this effort, Samir will author those thoughts for you so that you will truly be seen as the father of this new nation.”
The colonel’s head snapped up, anger overriding his attempt to twist the moment. “You camel-dung beetle! Who else could have accomplished this? Tell me who, you piece of desert shit!” the colonel shouted, his face beet-red. “I’ll tell you who … no one! I am the only one in the Arab world who could have forged this magnificent creation. I am the father of the Islamic Republic of North Africa and Barbary. I am the designer of every event that led to this creation! And you stand there and tell me that now, when the country is born, that my services are no longer needed? Who the hell do you think you are?”