Undeterred, Juliet Robbins shook her head and answered quickly. “I’m asking the question, Mr. President. Certainly you are aware of the criticism.”
“Of course I am.” He could hear cameras clicking as he organized his thoughts. “In all your travels over the world, Juliet, have you ever met a group of people who were completely pacifist?”
“I have, Mr. President. The Buddhists, for example, and with all due respect I don’t see the Islamic State blowing up hotels and city streets in Nepal.” Ryan could see her sense of superiority with her answer, and her chin rose slightly. If she had been holding a microphone, Ryan imagined she would have dropped it and walked out of the room.
Ryan nodded. “You’re right about that, but that has a lot to do with geographical separation, the secluded nature of Nepal, and the lack of live television cameras.”
“Your opinion, Mr. President. My opinion, and that of many learned academics, is that the Buddhists aren’t attacked like we are because they don’t meddle in other people’s affairs like we do.”
Ryan smiled. “Have you ever heard of the Yazidis?”
Now Juliet Robbins blinked hard. Ryan could see the wheels spinning in her brain as her face changed expression. “Of course, and I am not—”
“You talked, Juliet. You talked at length to set up your question, to establish your authority, and to make your opinions known. Now you will allow me to answer. Yes, the Yazidis are much like the Buddhists, aren’t they, in that they don’t have much, if any, real physical defense from the outside world? A passive community. I wonder why you didn’t think to mention them in a discussion of the Islamic State. After all, you are an expert, as you mentioned, on the region from which the Yazidis come. Are you also an expert on Nepal?”
“No, Mr. President, but your question—”
“Your question, Juliet, was, Why we don’t just leave the Islamic State alone so they will treat us better? Well, I’ll answer you by talking about the Yazidis. They lived on Sinjar Mountain, in a Kurdish-held area, and they’ve been there for hundreds of years, not bothering anyone. Even when the Islamic State moved into that territory four years ago, the Yazidis continued to stay for the most part on their mountain, though they were all but unarmed, all but unprotected.
“And then ISIS came up the mountain to root them out. The Yazidis were slaughtered, burned alive, killed ritualistically, sold into slavery. And this increased the flood of membership into the Islamic State. People all over the world joined ISIS when they saw what they did to the Yazidis, as well as others. So the group you think will behave with kindness if only met with kindness is, obviously, a death cult. Nothing more.”
Juliet Robbins started to speak again, but Ryan talked over her.
“So two questions for you, Juliet, and for all of those who agreed with her long preamble about turning the other cheek and simply allowing this scum to increase in size and scope. Do you think the United States of America, with friends and allies in the Middle East, with necessary business to do in the Middle East, should simply lay down all our guns and become pacifist like the Yazidis? And, if so, why do you think the Islamic State would treat us any better?
“I am not here to disrespect anyone’s religion. I am here to do my best to protect America and its allies, and if perversions of one particular religion endanger the men, women, children, and ideals I’ve sworn an oath to protect, then I will use every tool in my toolbox as President of the United States to defeat those responsible, and the ideas that give them strength and perpetuate their evil cause.
“I don’t believe, as you clearly do, in appeasing them. I agree with Winston Churchill, who said an appeaser is one who feeds a crocodile, hoping it will eat him last.
“If you want to say we could all be as gentle as a Buddhist to earn a repayment in kindness from those who slaughtered thousands of perfectly gentle Yazidis, then your credibility on the matter is called into question. I will go elsewhere for my advice. I’m sorry, Juliet, you have a worldview that is probably very well-meaning, and surely accurate on many issues, but on this… I’m going to think about the Yazidis I have met, and I’m going to think about all the Yazidis I was unable to meet, and I will use them to decide if pacifism is a reasonable response to terror.”
As Juliet Robbins tried to compose a suitable retort, Ryan looked elsewhere in the room. “Next question?”
After the press conference Ryan returned to the Oval to find Arnie Van Damm waiting for him. Ryan just said, “I know, Arnie. I was too hard on Robbins.”
Arnie said, “Screw it, Jack. Glad you gave her hell.”
Ryan said, “I’m glad you’re glad, but if I lose you as the good angel on my shoulder, then I’m in trouble.”
Arnie said, “We’ve both been up here too long. I wanted to resign on the spot, grab the mic from you, then tell Juliet she could fly to Raqqa and try turning the other cheek herself.”
Jack Ryan gave half a smile, his first laugh in days. “You are irreplaceable, but it would almost be worth it just to get a front-row seat to watch that.”
Arnie said, “You and me, two old guys talking about what we would do if given half a chance.”
“Right,” Ryan said. “Better we focus our time on what we can do to make a difference around here.”
66
Alex Dalca sat in the Jeep at the far end of the tarmac in the airport in Craiova, and he watched the Gulfstream land. He was surprised the Albanians had such a nice airplane, and it gave him hope his temporary conditions in Macedonia wouldn’t be so bad.
It was afternoon, but the airport wasn’t busy. He’d been here an hour and he’d seen only one turboprop domestic commercial flight and a couple smaller cargo jets from other European countries in all that time.
He imagined this luxury jet was orders of magnitude more posh than the average aircraft to land at this backwater airfield.
He climbed out of his vehicle, hefted the backpack onto his shoulder, and walked straight between the two outbuildings, directly up to the runway, as instructed by his Albanian contact that morning. In light of last night’s attack by the Chinese, he’d had to cancel meeting Luca Gabor at the prison and call his daughter instead, and he had some concerns Gabor would demand more money for the change in plans. But apparently the man was happy enough to be robbing him for the three million, and just relayed a phone number to call through to the girl.
According to what he’d learned on the phone from the Albanian, it was just as Gabor had promised. They ran a casino in Skopje behind the scenes, and they agreed they could use Dalca to harvest information on guests, either while they were on the premises gambling or before they came to the hotel. The Albanians would use the information to know how much money the guests had, and any valuables, vices, or other tidbits of information that would give the house even greater odds.
Dalca imagined nobody got out of that casino with money, and if they did, they stood odds of getting waylaid and robbed on the street massively disproportionate with crime statistics in the capital.
The Albanians were a tough bunch, it was obvious from the phone call, and Alexandru Dalca would be their newest secret weapon. He figured the work would be easy, and they would pay him fairly. And on top of that he’d be safe, because there were, easily, fifty armed security in the casino at all times.
Just as promised, the plane turned at the end of the runway, then taxied back in his direction. Three minutes later, it stopped, and the air stairs opened. A swarthy-looking short, stocky man in his forties with black hair flecked with gray stood in the doorway, and beckoned him forward.