“The other issue is control of the Mediterranean Sea. When you control the Mediterranean, you control the West. I sometimes wonder if America knows this. Eventually, we can expect them to try to wrest back that control. Separately, those Arab countries have little influence in the Mediterranean, not even sufficient to control events along their own coasts. In the past few minutes, that whole picture has changed.
History has shown that the country that controls the Mediterranean wields exponential world influence and power. When the Americans drew back to their own shores at the turn of this century, they left a vacuum in the Mediterranean. So goes the control of the Mediterranean, so goes world influence, and I state here that influence will go to the new republic and that we, the People’s Republic, will enjoy the fruits of their labor. We showed the new nation that you don’t need a strong military to control a sea. All you need are mines, stealth, information technology, and the balls to do it.” He reached under the table and weakly grabbed his crotch.
Everyone clapped as the chairman finished. Just as the chairman appeared to be dozing off, he raised his head and added, “The Americans are checkmated and don’t even know it. They have no reason to go after the Libyans, because the country that attacked them no longer exists.
Those responsible for the attacks have been executed; at least, the ones the Americans believe ordered the attacks are dead. And finally, the American citizens in Algiers are being evacuated. When that is finished, they will have no reason for military action, and only military action can stop this new country from rising like a phoenix from the ashes of Arab history. No, the West will pontificate — talk — wring their hands in an attempt to try to stop it, but they will keep their military caged.”
He leaned forward. “We will obtain significant prestige in the eyes of the world as Korea stands down. At the end of the day on the world stage, we will be the winners.”
The chairman turned to the four stewards who stood at attention near the cart. “Please,” he said to them, waving his hand at the members around the table.
The stewards hurried to break out the French wine, providing each member with his own bottle.
The general forced himself to look pleased. He hated the drinking binges the chairman enjoyed, but when the chairman drank, everyone drank. And when the chairman eventually napped, everyone waited.
The door opened. A colonel flanked by two soldiers entered.
The chairman raised his eyebrows at the intrusion, his aged lips pressed thinly together. Patience was not a virtue that ripened with old age and power. His bodyguards placed their hands on the weapons beneath their coats.
The colonel bowed to the chairman. “My apologies, Mr. Chairman. It is urgent that I speak to the general.”
The chairman reluctantly gave a curt nod.
General Xing rose and walked to the door, where the taller colonel bent down to whisper in the general’s ear. Their muted conversation took several minutes. Minutes in which the chairman waited impatiently for the intruders to depart so the celebration could start. General Xing gave the colonel his orders and dismissed him. Sweat broke out on the general’s forehead. After several nods from the colonel to ensure he understood his directions, General Xing marched to where the chairman sat. The door shut behind the messenger.
“Mr. Chairman, I have grave news to report and then I must leave,” he said, his face pale.
“What is it?” Dao asked impatiently. He knew the general never enjoyed his celebrations, but had never expected him to employ a ruse to avoid one.
General Xing took a deep breath. “Mr. Chairman, the North Koreans have refused to stand down. In fact, about thirty minutes ago, they crossed the border at three different points. They are about five miles into South Korean territory.” He paused, his face growing whiter. “And, sir, they have overrun the American positions. There have been heavy American casualties.” He bowed his head.
The chairman’s reaction belied his frail health. He stood and slapped the general. “You said they were drawing back! You said that they would-demobilize! You said that they would do all of this for food!
For food, damn you! Why didn’t the Americans stop them? Where were the South Korean allies? You have failed China, General!” His eyes blazed with anger. Even with bad arteries, both of the chairman’s cheeks turned red.
General Xing stood with his head bowed, fury boiling inside over the public humiliation under the hands of this pompous and senile old man.
“Request to be excused, Mr. Chairman, to try to turn them back before it is too late?” General Xing asked in a whisper.
“Too late! You don’t know the Americans, General Xing,” the chairman said sarcastically. “What is winging its way east is a wave of fury that will wash over the American public like a monsoon storm. A tidal wave of hate and determination will erupt. They will rise to the attack as they have always risen through history. They may never pay attention to the lessons that history offers, but one thing that history shows is that if you provoke the Americans’ are, they fight to win.”
The chairman sat back down, and one of his guards helped him place another nitroglycerin tablet under his tongue. “You have little time to convince your ‘lackeys’ in Korea to return to the border before the Americans bring every facet of their economic and military might against this unprovoked attack. When that happens, China will be in an untenable situation. Stupid! Why make war when patience, economic moves, and political power can achieve world domination and influence.
Let America sleep as it is doing, and it will follow the Soviet Union into oblivion. The Koreans have once again woken the sleeping giant.
Go! Get out of my sight!” He reached up, ripped the medal from around General Xing’s neck, and slung it across the room, where it bounced against the wall. “Get out!”
General Xing, his cheeks red and eyes moist from anger, strolled briskly to the door and departed. He wiped the sweat from his forehead as he left.
Chairman Dao downed the first glass of wine and collapsed against the chair. The doctor in the back of the room hurried forward, taking his stethoscope out of his pocket. The steward immediately filled the glass again as everyone silently watched.
The doctor put the stethoscope against the aged chairman’s chest. The chairman pushed him away. The doctor moved aside as Dao Chu Shai pulled himself upright.
“Gentlemen, while we contemplate this unforeseen event, let’s celebrate our new comrade in the West, the Islamic Republic of North Africa and Barbary.”
Then he mumbled, “And Jet’s contemplate General Xing’s future.”
CHAPTER 12
“What the hell is taking them so long?” Doucan asked. A bullet whistled by his ear. He instinctively crouched lower.
“Damn, that was close!”
The wall of flour bags behind Duncan and Beau absorbed a torrent of shots. Flour rained on them. Every time a bullet hit the flour bags, the sound reminded Duncan of a baseball player slamming his fist in his glove. So many bullets had been fired that a metallic tang filled the air, overriding the harsh fish smell of the surrounding harbor. How could Beau look so calm?
“Shit! I hope it’s not much longer.” Beau leaned around the edge of the flour bags and fired a short burst at the warehouses across the road from the pier.