"We have a problem, Aaron. President Frank-Silverman is basically ignoring me, and all my attempts to intervene on Saladin's behalf have been met with silence. Heck, even Gordon Harris isn't able to get through to her, and he's the damn Chairman of the joint Chiefs of staff!" said Michael DuPont, as he sat across from Aaron in his office.
"I had thought that she would be more reasonable than this. This is bad, Michael," said Aaron.
"Tell me about it! I never thought I'd see the day when the US customs would actually turn back a tanker full of Libyan oil. We buy oil from basically everyone!" said Michael.
The office door hissed open, and Vikram walked in, holding a tablet in his hand.
"You've got the numbers Vikram?" asked Aaron.
"Yeah, boss. This is bad. This damn blockade is making it harder to schedule the lunar titanium launches. Saladin doesn't have the cash to finish the Libya launch site, and getting the ingots out of Vladivostok is a nightmare. We need at least four more Composer class nuclear cargo ships to establish a full supply chain between the Sirius Zone, Libya and Russia, but that's only part of the problem. The other part is getting the Navy to let our shipments through. Right now, the Bach is risking every voyage by running through the blockade, and causing NATO a mild panic every time it blows through the radar at 35 knots. Our margins have reduced to 2% at this point. We get squeezed any further, and we're losing money every time we ship a load of products," said Vikram.
"What about our energy and construction sectors? I've made a deal with Saladin to provide the nuclear power to him at cost, but what about the rest of our power grid and construction projects?" asked Aaron.
"Well, we're basically just powering the Sirius Zone at this point. The rest of Massachusetts is back on natural gas, with a smattering of wind and solar on top to keep the greenies happy. The same goes with everything else. We're a pariah state within the US economy. At this point we're breaking even, so the closed loop economy we've got going is working, but we can't afford to build out the Sirius Zone lunar launch site, and we can't afford to build out the nuclear cargo fleet," said Vikram.
"All right, Vikram. Dismissed," said Aaron, as Vikram left the office.
Aaron launched a secure video call to Saladin, and waited for him to answer.
"Saladin, I think we'll need to move forward with your operation. At this point, we cannot complete our lunar supply chain," he said, as Saladin's face appeared on the screen.
"As much as I hate to admit it, I agree with you, Aaron. I don't want to have to do this, but I don't see any other options at this point," said Saladin.
"We'll get Gordon Harris to try one more time to get through to that bitch in the White House, and if that fails, then no more Mr. Nice Guy," said Aaron grimly.
"I'll await your response," said Saladin.
---
"Status report!" commanded Saladin, to his assembled military commanders.
"512 HellVortex helicopters, all fully armed and fueled, Premier," reported the air force commander.
"64 Devastator tanks, all armed and ready to roll, Premier," reported the army commander.
"Aristotle and Machiavelli fully armed and operational, Premier," reported the navy commander.
"Very well. Have all forces on standby and on high alert. Send 16 HellVortex choppers and 4 Devastator tanks to NATO base Alpha, and inform General Malkovich that he and his forces have 24 hours to get off Libyan soil before they are considered a hostile invasion force," ordered Saladin.
"Yes, Premier," replied the commanders in unison.
"That should shake up the status quo a bit," mused Saladin, as his commanders saluted and left the room to carry out their orders.
---
"General, there are 4 tanks and 16 choppers approaching the base from the south," reported a NATO soldier on the perimeter wall of NATO base Alpha.
"Sir, incoming radio message from the lead chopper," reported another soldier, handing the readout message to General Malkovich.
"We have 24 hours to evacuate the base, and leave Libya, or we will be considered an invading force, and will be met with a military response. What the hell?" exclaimed General Malkovich, as he read the message.
"Sir, the Libyan forces are fanning out around the base. We are being surrounded," reported the perimeter soldiers.
"Get me Premier Saladin on the radio! This isn't like him at all!" demanded General Malkovich.
"Radio contact established, sir," said the radio operator, handing the headset to General Malkovich.
"Saladin, this is General Malkovich. What the hell is going on? Why are you surrounding our base and giving us an ultimatum?" asked General Malkovich.
"General Malkovich, this is Libya ground command. Your request for an audience with Premier Saladin has been acknowledged. You are hereby instructed to approach HellVortex Alpha One, unarmed and under a white flag, and prepare to be transported to the Premier's palace. Any deviation from these instructions will be considered an act of war, and will be met with a military response," said a calm voice over the radio, before the line went dead.
"What the hell just happened?" thought General Malkovich, as he looked at his officers in confusion and disbelief.
---
General Malkovich slowly made his way to the waiting HellVortex Alpha One, a large white flag fluttering from a wooden pole in his hands.
He walked silently, his instinct telling him that this was no bluff, and that the Libyan forces were deadly serious about their ultimatum.
He reached the chopper, and the Libyan soldiers opened the doors for him, and escorted him inside.
Without a word, the soldiers grabbed his hands, and locked them in place with handcuffs, and his legs were locked in place with shackles.
They roughly pushed him into a jump seat, and strapped him in.
The chopper took off, and the flight to the Premier's palace was silent, except for the sound of the rotors and the wind.
After about an hour, the chopper landed, and he was pulled out by the soldiers, and marched into the palace, his hands and legs still shackled.
The guards led him into the main throne room, where Saladin was waiting for him, sitting on his throne, a sword and rifle resting against the armrest.
Malkovich opened his mouth to speak, but the soldiers roughly shoved him to his knees in front of Saladin.
With a gesture, Saladin dismissed the soldiers, and they left the room, leaving him alone with the general.
General Malkovich bit his tongue, and tried to maintain his composure, as he knelt in front of Saladin.
"I had assumed that we were friends, General Malkovich. But recent events have made me revise that assumption, and consider you and your forces hostile. Your answers and conduct in the next few minutes will determine your fate, and the fate of your forces. Have I made myself clear?" asked Saladin, his voice calm and cold.
"Yes, Premier," replied General Malkovich, trying and failing to stop himself from gritting his teeth.
"Are you aware that Libya has been placed under an effective no-fly zone by every major airline in the world? Not one of my citizens have been able to book a flight from Libya to anywhere but Russia over the past few months. And if that wasn't enough, Libyan aircraft are being denied entry to every international airport. Were you aware of this?" asked Saladin.
"No, Premier Saladin, I was not aware of that," replied General Malkovich.
"So, NATO has not issued any orders to divert flights away from Libya?" asked Saladin.
"Not to my knowledge, Premier," replied General Malkovich.
"I see. So, if I am to take you at your word, that means that NATO has not issued any new sanction or blockade orders against Libya, and it is just that everybody has decided to avoid doing business with Libya. I find that very hard to believe," said Saladin, picking up his rifle, and casually hefting it up and down in his hands.
"Premier Saladin, I give you my word as a soldier and an officer, that neither NATO nor I have received any new orders regarding Libya, except to maintain full vigil against the movements of the Aristotle and Machiavelli," said General Malkovich, staring into Saladin's eyes, despite kneeling in front of him.
"Very well. I'll take your word for it, but I stand by my earlier decree. NATO has overstayed its welcome, and has 24 hours to pull out of Libya. Any attempts to resist or defy that decree is an act of war, and will be met with a full military response. As incensed as I am with your superiors, I still consider you a friend and confidant, and I would like you to continue to serve in your current capacity as liaison between myself and NATO. Are you willing to accept those terms?" asked Saladin, strapping the rifle to his back, getting up from his throne, and unlocking Malkovich's handcuffs.
"Permission to speak freely, Premier Saladin?" asked General Malkovich, rubbing his wrists.
"Granted," said Saladin, as he unlocked the shackles on Malkovich's legs.
"You have some damn nerve dragging me in here like some POW, threatening me and my men with war, and then asking me to continue to be a friendly liaison!" growled Malkovich, gingerly getting to his feet.
"I've spent the last few months trying to figure out why everyone except Russia and Aaron's Sirius Software has stopped doing business with us, and that includes the usual oil clients who were perfectly happy to keep buying our oil back when the sanctions were first announced. To add insult to injury, I can't get a diplomatic channel to the US, or anybody else for that matter, so forgive me if I'm a little less cordial than I should be right now," said Saladin, his voice icy.
"So what? You're kicking NATO out of Libya, and then what? You think Israel will just sit back and let you be? Our presence in Libya is the only thing stopping them from trying to sink your little toy boats!" snarled Malkovich.
He raised his hands and started to back away, as Saladin unstrapped his rifle, and pointed it directly at Malkovich's head.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
"Your permission to speak freely has been revoked, General Malkovich. Now, let me explain something to you. I'm no longer a two-bit dictator with an oil well, and I'm more than tired of your American condescension and arrogance. Don't ever take that tone with me again. Are we clear on that?" asked Saladin, his voice calm but deadly.
"Y-yes, Premier Saladin," stammered Malkovich, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead.
Saladin lowered his rifle, and took a deep breath.
"I'm sorry that it has come to this, General, but I cannot abide any more disrespect from you, or your superiors. This audience is over. Go and evacuate your bases," said Saladin, pressing a button on his throne's armrest, which opened the doors to the throne room, and allowed Malkovich to leave.
---
"This is General Malkovich to all NATO forces in Libya, return to base and prepare for emergency evacuation. I repeat, return to base, and prepare for emergency evacuation. This is not a drill," announced General Malkovich over the radio, back at NATO base Alpha.
Helicopters from the Charles de Gaulle carrier strike group, and C-130 transport planes from NATO air bases in Europe, started to arrive at the 16 NATO bases across Libya, and started to evacuate the troops.
"Make sure we take as much of our equipment and supplies as we can, but prioritize the safety of our personnel," ordered General Malkovich, as he oversaw the evacuation of his forces.
"General, message from the Libyan central command," reported a soldier, handing the readout to Malkovich.
"Safety and peace, and farewell, General Malkovich. We hope to see you again in the future, under better circumstances," read the message from Saladin.
"Yeah, next time you better not have a damn gun pointed at my head," thought Malkovich, crumpling up the message.
"General, all personnel have been evacuated. We are ready to leave," reported his second in command.
"All right Rollins, let's get the hell out of here," said General Malkovich, as he boarded the last helicopter leaving NATO base Alpha.
The helicopter had barely cleared the perimeter of the base, when the Libyan forces launched a barrage of missiles at the base, razing it to the ground.
"Jeez!" exclaimed General Malkovich, as the helicopter just barely escaped the blasts and the shrapnel.
"Well, now we don't have to worry about Libya having a bunch of free guns and equipment," chuckled Rollins.
"You think that's funny Rollins? That was a damn parting message from Saladin. It said that he doesn't need any hand-me-downs from NATO, 'cause he's got his own stuff that he thinks is better," growled Malkovich, as he looked out the window at the burning wreckage of NATO base Alpha.
---
"Admiral, the Libyan warship Aristotle is approaching the US Eastern Seaboard at 35 knots. They will be in US territorial waters within 4 hours," reported the radar operator on the USS Gerald R. Ford.
"Admiral Winters to Ford Strike group, change course to intercept the Aristotle, and prepare to engage if necessary," ordered Admiral Winters.
The Ford Strike group ponderously changed course, moving in formation to intercept the Aristotle.
They were joined by the USS Abraham Lincoln strike group, creating a pincer formation to block the Aristotle's path to the US Eastern Seaboard.
The Aristotle slowed from its 35 knots, to 20 knots as it approached, and the two strike groups moved in to encircle it.
It slowed to a stop, just outside of US territorial waters, and the two strike groups closed into visual range in order to lock onto its stealth-optimized hull.
"Admiral, Aristotle is hailing us," reported the radio operator.
"Put it through," ordered Admiral Winters.
"This is Premier Saladin of Libya. I wish to speak to the President of the United States, face to face. Either allow safe passage for the Aristotle, or bring the president on board the Aristotle. If I have no response within the next hour, the Aristotle will raze sixteen US cities to the ground," said Saladin's voice over the radio, and the channel went dead.
"Relay that message to the White House, and prepare for DEFCON-1!" ordered Admiral Winters, as she stared at the massive black ship that was the Aristotle, idling off the Gerald R. Ford's port bow.
---
"Premier Saladin. This is Admiral Winters of the United States Navy. I have been authorized to negotiate with you on behalf of the President of the United States," said Admiral Winters, as she stood on the bridge of the USS Gerald R. Ford, staring at the Aristotle.
"I didn't come all this way to deal with filthy intermediaries. The clock is ticking. 45 minutes, Admiral," came Saladin's voice over the radio.
"Premier Saladin, will you please tell me your demands, so that I can relay them to the President?" asked Admiral Winters, as two F-35s launched from the Ford, and flew towards the Aristotle.
"That stunt just lost you 15 minutes, Admiral. You now have 30 minutes left, safe passage for the Aristotle, or the President on deck. Your choice," said Saladin, as the Aristotle's tungsten-tipped anti-aircraft missiles tore through the wings of the F-35s, sending them crashing into the Atlantic.
"Dammit!" growled Admiral Winters, as she relayed another emergency message to the White House.
---
Saladin stood on the bridge of the Aristotle, sipping a cup of tea, as he watched the nuclear tactical display that showed the target locks on the 16 US cities that were in range of his missiles, along with the countdown timer.
"Premier Saladin, diplomatic message from Russia," said Captain Siddig, the commander of the Aristotle.
"Put it through," said Saladin, turning to the video conference screen, which lit up to reveal the face of Alexander Chekov, the Russian President.
"Premier Saladin, you have Russia's full support in this matter. I wish to enter a mutual defense and trade agreement with you. As a gesture of goodwill, I have deployed the Mediterranean fleet to reinforce Libya's naval defenses," he said, just as a readout came in from Libyan Naval command, confirming the arrival of the Russian fleet, which included two nuclear cruisers, and 8 Akula class nuclear attack submarines.
"I thank you, President Chekov. Please pass on my regards to your people, particularly Erik Gorbachev, who has been a staunch business partner and friend to me and Libya," said Saladin, inclining his head graciously.
President Chekov nodded, and the video conference ended.
"Premier Saladin, diplomatic message from Japan," said Captain Siddig.
The screen lit up again, revealing the slightly apprehensive face of Japanese Prime Minister Hideyoshi Tanaka.
"Premier Saladin, I understand the frustration and anger that you must be feeling, and the Japanese government is willing to enter a trade agreement for your oil and is willing to invest in Libya's infrastructure and economy. We implore yo to exercise restraint, and avoid any rash actions that could lead to a devastating conflict," said Prime Minister Tanaka.
"Prime Minister Hideyoshi, does the name Hajime Yamamoto ring any bells?" asked Saladin.
Hideyoshi's brow furrowed in confusion.
"He's the owner of Yamamoto Corp, isn't he?" he asked.
"Indeed, and he has since been forced to leave your country, his enterprise has suffered heavy losses, and the aircraft carrier he built for you has been decommissioned. If this is how you treat your own citizens and captains of industry, then your offer of a trade agreement is not worth the paper it's written on. I suggest you clean house first, and then we can talk about trade," said Saladin, his voice dripping with disdain.
Hideyoshi hung his head in shame.
"I will look into the matter, and contact you again, Premier Saladin," he said, before the video conference ended.
Saladin turned back to the tactical display, and took another sip of his tea.
"Um, Premier Saladin, we're now getting flooded with diplomatic messages. Pretty much every country is issuing apologies and appeals to avoid conflict. I've got reports that the Libyan chamber of commerce is also getting flooded with calls from even American energy companies wanting to resume their business ties and oil agreements," said Captain Siddig.
"So, now those filthy rats want to crawl back. I wonder what's changed their minds?" chuckled Saladin, as he pulled up reports that showed Wall Street in free-fall, which was causing a global economic panic, with Mexico and Canada even issuing emergency evacuations of all their citizens from the US.
---
"How dare that man threaten the United States like this! Why haven't you sent him to the bottom of the Atlantic?" demanded Anne Frank-Silverman, as she sat in the Oval Office, staring at the AWACS feed of the Aristotle encircled by the two carrier strike groups.
"Madam President, the Aristotle is a nuclear-powered stealth missile cruiser that eats F-35s for breakfast. Sure, we can sink it, but not before Saladin has a shot at nuking New York or DC. We can't afford to take that risk," said General Gordon Harris wearily.
"Saladin's bluffing, General. He has no nuclear weapons capabilities. Sure, he's got power plants, no-thanks to that serpent Zakhrov, but the worst he can do is napalm. Take him out," said Daniel Goldberg, who was also in the Oval Office.
"Mr. Secretary, with all due respect, we cannot afford to call that bluff. Those Earth Scorcher napalm missiles he used in his skirmish with Niger can still cause unacceptable civilian fatalities! We're dealing with a peer-level threat, not some crazed extremist with a hijacked plane!" protested General Harris.
"General Harris, this office does not negotiate with terrorists! Get that little shit off our front door!" snarled Anne.
"Oh yeah? I told you ignoring diplomatic cables from Libya was a bad idea, yet you did it anyway! And now look at the mess we're in! NATO has been kicked out of Libya, and he's parked on our doorstep demanding to speak with you! Just take a damn plane, meet him and get it over with!" shouted Harris.
"Don't you dare raise your voice at me soldier! Do that again, and I'll have you relieved of your post!" snarled Anne.
Daniel opened the communications radio and flicked it to the channel that had been set up to contact the Aristotle.
"Premier Saladin, this is Secretary of State Daniel Goldberg. I'm willing to discuss terms on neutral ground," he said into the radio.
"15 minutes before a city is turned to glass, Mr. Secretary," came Saladin's icy reply.
Anne grabbed the radio from Daniel.
"Premier Saladin, this is the President of the United States. I do not respond to threats from terrorists! If you wish to talk, you will use the appropriate diplomatic channels. Now you have 10 minutes to take that ship back to Libya, or I will unleash the full might of the US Navy on you!" she snarled into the radio, as Gordon rubbed his temples in frustration.
A missile from the Aristotle hit the AWACS plane, causing the feed to go dark. Another missile exploded over the Washington monument, causing people to run screaming in panic.
"You will come on board the Aristotle in 2 hours, Miss President, or the next firework will be a thermonuclear detonation," came Saladin's reply.
"What the hell are those strike groups doing? Why can't they sink him?" asked Anne, a tremble in her voice.
"Because, Madam President, you didn't give them the orders to engage! The last time we did the shoot first, ask questions later thing, we got ISIS, Al-Qaeda, and 911. Now congratulations, you just got us 911 version 2. Under these circumstances, I hereby tender my resignation, effective immediately," said Gordon, turning on his heel and walking out of the Oval Office in disgust.
Daniel seized Gordon's arm and dragged him back with surprising strength for a diplomat and politician.
"Sit your ass down, General Harris, and order a full retaliatory strike against the Aristotle, and Libya. I'm authorizing you to use every asset we have to send that madman to the depths of hell," he snarled.
Gordon's fist smashed into Daniel's face sending him reeling backwards. In a flash, Gordon leapt on top of Daniel, and slammed his head into the ground, knocking him unconscious.
"Get that asshole out of here," he ordered the stunned Secret Service agents, who stirred into action and called a paramedic.
Gordon then turned to Anne who was staring at him in shock, her face pale and eyes wide.
"P-please, don't hurt me," she stammered as he advanced on her.
Gordon gently pried the radio from her hands, and flicked it open.
"Premier Saladin, this is General Gordon Harris. By order of the Commander in Chief, you have safe passage to Boston Harbour, the President will meet you at Sirius Software Headquarters as neutral ground," he said into the radio.
He then switched channels.
"General Harris to Admiral Winters, prepare to escort the Aristotle to Boston Harbour, and prepare to engage if necessary. A ceasefire is in effect," he ordered.
He turned back to Anne.
"Come with me Anne. We need to find a way out of this mess," he said, as he gently took her arm and led her out of the Oval Office.
---
"Welcome, Premier Saladin, Miss President," said Aaron, as Saladin, Anne, and Gordon entered the main conference room of Sirius Software Headquarters, and took their seats around the large black glass table.
"All right, what do you pigs want?" growled Anne, glaring at Saladin. She had recovered from her earlier shock, and was now seething with rage.
"General Harris, these are my terms. Unrestricted passage of air and sea traffic between Libya, the Sirius Zone, and Russia. Lifting of all trade sanctions, embargoes, and blockades against Libya, and General Malkovich to be the formal liaison between myself and NATO. In return, Libya will enter a total non-aggression treaty with the United States, adopt a formal no-first-use nuclear weapons policy, and allow NATO to reinstate a limited military presence in Libya, including a nuclear arsenal as a mutually assured destruction insurance policy," said Saladin, ignoring Anne.
"How dare you! I'm right here you know! I'm the only one with the authority to negotiate those terms!" shouted Anne, springing to her feet.
"And given your conduct over the past 24 months, I would rather deal with your military leaders directly from now on, than waste my time with you," retorted Saladin.
He turned to Gordon.
"Do we have an agreement, General Harris?" he asked.
"No we don't have an agreement! I don't care how many missiles you have, you will not dictate terms to the United States!" shouted Anne.
"Excuse us, gentlemen," said Gordon, as he took Anne by the arm and steered her out of the conference room.
Outside the conference room, he slammed Anne against the wall, and glared into her eyes.
"Listen up, and listen good! We just narrowly avoided nuclear Armageddon! You can yell and scream at me all you want after Saladin leaves, but right now, just shut the hell up and let me do my damn job. Do you understand me, Miss President?" he said, his voice low and dangerous.
To his surprise, Anne blushed furiously, and looked at him through her eyelashes.
"Y-yes, sir," she whispered huskily.
He let her go, feeling a little confused by her reaction, but also relieved that she had finally shut up.
"Now come on, let's go back there and agree to Saladin's terms," he said, and guided her back into the conference room.
"Premier Saladin, I agree to your terms on behalf of the President of the United States. I ask that this standoff be put behind us," said Gordon, resuming his seat, with Anne sitting silently next to him, with her head bowed.
"Very well. I hereby formalize this new treaty between Libya and the United States," said Saladin, signing the treaty document that he had brought with him, and sliding it across the table.
Anne quickly pulled out her pen and signed the treaty, and Gordon followed suit, signing as a witness.
