“I agree, Mr. President,” the Secretary of State replied, looking over at her aide who was scribbling notes. “Get that to the people authorized to discuss this issue.”
“That’s not many people outside this room,” the SecDef pointed out. “Us, Pierson, who else?”
“Not me,” the Chairman said, chuckling. He’d been watching the TV with half an eye during the discussion and now tried not to swear. “What the fu… Sorry, sir.” The news had tuned back to “Special Bulletin: Battle for Chechnya” but this was a room preparing for a news conference.
“I’ve heard the word before,” the president said, turning the sound up.
“… the Minister of Defense for the country of Georgia,” the announcer was saying, “on the subject of the battle going on in Guerrmo Pass where an elite group of Georgian mountain infantry have been trapped and are about to be overrun by Chechen freedom-fighters… ”
“Why doesn’t the guy just get a job with Al-Jazeera?” the Secretary of Defense said.
“Doesn’t want to get hit by a .50 cal?” the Chairman asked, rhetorically.
“Thank you so much for bringing that up, General,” the president said, turning slightly green.
“Sorry, sir.”
“Minister for Defense, Vakhtang Gelovani,” the Georgian spokesperson said, backing away from the podium.
Gelovani was a short, broad man who fit his suit like a stuffed sausage. He was also sweating under all the camera lights and whoever had done his makeup had given him racoon eyes and lip gloss that was too bright.
“I wish to read a brief statement,” Gelovani said in thickly accented English. “Then I will take questions.
“The current battle is taking place on territory which is internationally recognized as belonging to the country of Georgia. The Chechen terrorists who use this area are criminals who are to be dealt with as criminals should. The local militia currently operating in the area were on a mission without the support of the Georgian government when they were detected. At this time, the Georgian government has no plans to come to their aid. That concludes my statement. I will now take questions.”
“The bastard is hanging them out to dry!” the Chairman snapped.
“So are we,” the president pointed out. “Otherwise those B-1s would have another mission.”
“Minister Gelovani, are you saying that this is a rogue operation?” The reporter was a Brit, probably print since he was taking notes on a laptop.
Gelovani leaned down for his aide to whisper in his ear and then straightened.
“No. The militia were authorized to operate in this region but were not specifically ordered to do so. The regular Georgian military was planning on a major offensive in the area this spring, after the passes were clear. By stirring up the nest they may have compromised this offensive.”
“Oh my God,” the Chairman said, shaking his head. “Is he nuts? You don’t give away stuff like that on TV!”
“He wasn’t planning it, anyway,” the Secretary of State said. “We’d know if he was. I think he just made it up on the fly.”
“Minister, the group currently fighting, these are the militia called the Keldara, yes?” The reporter was probably Russian from the accent and obviously had been doing his homework.
“That is correct,” Gelovani answered, starting to point to another reporter.
“Minister!” the Russian shouted. “On redirect. The Keldara, they are called the Tigers of the Mountains, yes? Is it true that they have an American commander? Is this an American operation?”
“NO!” Gelovani shouted, slamming his fist into the podium. “The commander of the Keldara is an American, yes. That is legal under an old law that is currently under review and will probably be changed. But this is not an American operation! We are not backside kissers of the Americans!”
“Hey, Minister!” one of the reporters shouted and caught his attention. “These Kaldara people, are they the guys who make the beer?” The reporter had a pad of paper in his hand and a look that was somehow “former military.” Since that was really unusual for the mainstream media, he was probably an independent, a stringer, blogger or both.
“Oh my God,” the Secretary of Defense said, shaking his head as the Defense Minister bent over for another conversation with his aide. “This is getting into Twilight Zone. When is this guy going to just shut up and call it a day?”
“Yes,” Gelovani answered. “The Keldara do make beer… ”
“The Mountain Tiger stuff?” the reporter asked the clearly confused minister. “They’re distributing it in the States and there was a little AP item on it where they said that part of the proceeds went to supporting the war on terror. Buddy of mine said it’s pretty popular around military bases… Is that the same stuff?”
The minister bent down again and then came up, clearly trying to make sense of how things had gone so wrong.
“I think so,” Gelovani replied. “I wasn’t aware they sold their beer. But they are called the Tigers of the Mountains and they make beer. It is probably the same.” He carefully picked his questioner this time.
“Minister Gelovani, you say that you are not sending any forces in support?” The reporter was European, probably German. “Then you are going to allow your own force to be overrun?”
“The Keldara are not members of Georgia’s National Guard,” Gelovani stated, emphatically.
“But you they are from Georgia, ja?” the reporter pressed. “So you are going to let the Chechens kill a hundred of your people. Why?”
“They are not my people!” Gelovani shouted, pounding the podium. “They are Keldara! They live in Georgia but they are not Georgians! They have no business being in this country!”
“So are they immigrants? Are they Turks?” the reporter asked as other reporters jumped to their feet and started yelling their own questions. There was nothing a roomful of reporters love more than a senior minister who is clearly bleeding and just begging to be finished off. All of them had questions that were perfect to do that.
“Who are the Keldara?”
“Who is this American that is leading them? Do you feel it takes an American to fight the Chechens?”
“Do you think they are going to win? Is that why you’re not sending forces, because they can win where ‘Georgian’ troops cannot?”
“Minister Gelovani, is it true to say that you’re prejudiced against the Keldara?!”
“Minister, are you afraid to commit your troops to a battle with the Chechens?!”
“Do you think that you can ever recapture the Pansiki Gorge?!”
“Minister, is this a political move against General Umarov, the Chief of Staff? You’re reported to be considering a run for the presidency; are the Keldara part of your opposition?! Are you trying to deliberately kill them off?”
“Would you say that the Keldara are trying to do your job for you?”
“NO FURTHER QUESTIONS!” Gelovani screamed, storming off the dais. There was not a side exit to the room so the cameras followed him in full retreat, at one point having to push a female reporter out of his way. The girl, who had been shouting questions while not actually looking at him, went over backwards with a scream of fear and landed on the lap of one of the male Russian TV reporters.
“Minuet,” the President said, tears streaming down his face from laughing. He paused to catch his breath. “Minuet. Call the President of Georgia and ask him if he’d like any help from the American military. Of course, if he feels that that is backside-kissing.”