Lethal Trajectories (15 page)

“Thank you, my brother.” said Prince Mustafa, with gratitude for the mullah’s comment. “You are an inspiration to us all; you speak with Allah in your heart.”

Prince Hahad ibn Saud rose to his feet and stated, “My men will eliminate the commanding officer of the royal guard along with his top loyalist officers and replace them with our own. Once the apostate officers have been eliminated, my troops will do what they are ordered to do. We’ll be ready, and if the key Saudi leaders are all in Riyadh at the same time, our job will be that much easier.”

Prince Mustafa rose again to report that his Commando Unit 22 was already staging near the location of Prince Bawarzi’s 15th Armored Brigade.

“Unit 22 will move fast to plant the dirty bombs in Saudi oil fields throughout the kingdom. They will then regroup and be made available later, if needed, to infiltrate and destroy the oil fields of any potentially antagonistic members of OPEC. Unit 22 hit teams will, as I mentioned, take out key leaders of major Saudi military units and thereby create discontinuity in the command structure of loyalist military units in the early hours of the coup. This will be of critical importance.”

Prince Bawari smiled and said, “The 15th Armored Brigade is prepared to occupy the major crossroads, airports, and communication centers around Riyadh. In addition, we have brother military units in other parts of the country—specifically in Jeddah, Mekkah, Madinah, and other locales—that stand ready to take over important roadways, communication centers, airports, and local police forces. There will be shooting between loyalists and our forces, but the losses will be acceptable. To the extent Unit 22 can take out key military commanders, our chances for a less violent takeover will be greater.”

General Aakif Abu Ali Jabar, a ruthless, arrogant man, smugly reported, “In essence, I
am
the commanding officer of our air forces and will be for at least another month, as the commanding general is now recuperating from open-heart surgery. I will immediately arrest a leading echelon of about a dozen officers and have them shot on the spot as traitors. Dealing with their subordinates—who will be quaking in their boots—will be easy; I will demand their full loyalty. I will shut down all airports and air services not friendly to us and provide our ground forces with transport planes and fighter cover as needed. We’ll secure the special air-force units and missile sites capable of delivering nuclear weapons, should that option be needed, and we’ll also be ready to support our forces in maneuvers against shipping or port facilities.”

Ali Jabar glowed with delight as he envisioned the next phase of his involvement.

“Last, we will detonate an atomic bomb to demonstrate our nuclear capabilities. We will warn the infidels that we can use them in a variety of ways including an EMP attack, which is truly our ultimate weapon of mass destruction.”

“My brothers,” said Prince Mustafa with sincere affection, “I am deeply grateful for your commitment and judicious planning. I only hope my many visits to the GCC Gulf countries over the years will bear fruit, and that they will join us in the jihad you have so masterfully planned. The world’s preoccupation with the Chunxiao event will continue for a while, and the departure of the American naval forces will open the window of opportunity for our plan. While jihad is imminent, we must wait for the most opportune time to launch it. Once we start, there is no turning back.”

Indeed, he mused,
we can not maintain a high state of readiness for long without being detected.
Silently, he vowed that they would not be disappointed.

H
ugo Bromfield could easily have won the Most Despised Senate Staffer in Washington award, if ever such an award were to be given out, and he was tremendously proud of his carefully cultivated take-no-prisoners persona. He couldn’t care less what others thought of him, as long as they feared him.

Sitting behind his oversized desk in the office next to the senator’s, he snarled at a young assistant to fetch him a coffee and several files. He was preparing for a conference call with his boss and Wellington Crane, a man he deeply admired. His boss, Senator Tom Collingsworth, though a lightweight, had connections that were important to Hugo’s career.

When he had first met Senator Tom Collingsworth a few years back, Hugo knew he hit pay dirt. Collingsworth was his kind of guy—far more interested in results than the methods used to get them. He had been thrilled when Collingsworth offered him a job as his chief of staff and absolutely ecstatic when Collingsworth was named chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee in 2017. He now had a position that transcended the mundane duties of representing the people of Texas. He despised the daily stream of ten-gallon hats and cowboy boots that flowed through the Collingsworth office, but he welcomed the bigger challenges of foreign policy. He quickly discovered his boss was an intellectual featherweight who could be easily swayed. And, like the hapless Colonel Klink in the old
Hogan’s Heroes
sitcom, he could also be easily manipulated.

He finished his coffee and walked next door for the three-way 8:30 meeting just as the phone rang “Good morning, Senator Collingsworth,” came the familiar voice heard by twenty million Americans every day, “How are you this morning?”

“Just fine, Wellington,” the senator replied, “although the weather has turned cold and rainy here in Washington. I’d sure like to be down in Myrtle Beach with you, but that will have to wait.”
The senator certainly isn’t above shamelessly angling for an invitation,
Hugo mused.

“I hope it will be in the near future, Senator. You know how much I admire and respect you,” Crane responded. Was it Bromfield’s imagination, or did he detect a hint of bile in that resonant voice?

“Thank you, Wellington. That means a lot to me, and I think you know I feel the same way about you. I’m on the phone, by the way, with my chief of staff, Hugo Bromfield. You remember Hugo, don’t you Wellington?”

“Why of course,” said Crane, “How are you, Hugo?”

“Just fine, Mr. Crane, and thank you for asking,” Bromfield replied. He could play the part of obsequious fan even better than his boss.

“Hey, none of this ‘Mr. Crane’ stuff. We’re friends, Hugo, and I want you to call me Wellington. Okay?”

“Thank you, Wellington, I’ll remember that,” Hugo replied, pleased by the offer of intimacy with this great American icon. Hugo could take or leave the ideological drivel that Wellington dished out, but he sure admired his ability to manipulate public opinion.

“As you know, Senator, I’m as outraged as you by the shabby treatment the BM administration has given our loyal ally, Japan, throughout this whole Chunxiao affair. It is absolutely unconscionable, and what’s worse, it makes it look like we are cozying up to those no-good commies in China. It makes no sense, and my twenty million listeners are as outraged as you and I. It goes entirely against the philosophy of the Pax-Americana movement I am privileged to lead, and it has to stop.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, Wellington,” the senator replied in a self-righteous voice. “Burkmeister and I may technically be in the same party, but you know the utter disdain I have for him and his administration.”

“I certainly do, Senator, and that is precisely why I am talking to you today and not the other ninety-nine of your so-called colleagues. You were an absolute hit on my program last week. I’m telling you, I have never received more emails, phone calls, or letters after a show as I did when you were on. I wish I could tell you how many times you were described as ‘that great American’ or something to that effect.” Crane was smearing it on, but Hugo knew the senator was too obtuse to know the difference. There was no such thing as over flattering a man like Collingsworth.

“I’m truly humbled by your remarks, Wellington,” Collingsworth simpered. “What can I do for you today, sir?”

“That’s what I like about you, Senator—you’re a no-nonsense, right-to-the-point kind of guy. All right, here it is: I plan to launch a nationwide campaign against the BM boys, using my Pax-Americana program as a foil to show how morally and intellectually bankrupt the administration is. I want to expose them for the threat they are to American society and our standing in the world. I’m dead serious about this. I’ll take my show on the road, broadcasting from cities all over the country. It will be a constant theme on my show for weeks—months if necessary—however long it takes for America to wake up.” He paused for a moment.

“Keep talking, Wellington,” said the Senator. “I really like what you’re saying.”

“Here’s the deal, Senator. I want to anchor my entire campaign around a few great Americans. I have already lined up the Most Reverend Payton Eastwood to represent the religious angle, and the retired four-star Marine Corps General Michael Axman to give us the military slant. I’m now looking for an American statesman who represents the true values of Pax-Americanism and is not too shy to take a stand on them. Frankly, Senator, there’s no greater American statesman I know of today than you, and I would be mighty pleased and proud if you would join me in this effort.”

“Wellington,” said the senator with a tear in his eye and quiver in his voice, “I would be deeply honored to join your team. I’ll do whatever I can in my own modest way to help the cause. I may even have some additional ammunition to bring to the battle in the next couple of weeks.”

“That’s great, Senator, you just made my day. I can’t tell you how pleased I am that we’ll be working together to save America. I thought you might be reluctant to go against the BM administration, what with your shared party affiliation.”
Crane surely knew that this subtle challenge to Collingsworth’s manhood would set him off, Hugo mused.
“But then, I know you are a man of principle, not party, and I shouldn’t be surprised. By the way, what’d you mean by ‘bringing in some additional ammunition'?”

“Let me say a couple of things, Wellington. First, I’m not at all reluctant to take on the Burkmeister administration. They don’t scare me a bit.” Collingsworth paused, obviously hoping his great act of political courage would not go unnoticed.

“Second, Hugo and I have been working overtime this past week to draft a resolution I’ll soon introduce to the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. I’m calling for official censure of the Burkmeister administration for its failure to honor our longstanding treaty agreements with Japan and for jeopardizing the national security of the United States of America. We hope to do this later next week. We may not have the political juice to get the resolution passed, but it’ll certainly call the media’s attention to the abominable policies of the Burkmeister clique. We’ll also be serving notice that we won’t sit back and let their flawed policies proceed unopposed.”

“That’s wonderful, Senator. I simply can’t tell you how much I admire your willingness to put America’s interests before that of your party.” Hugo resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Crane knew perfectly well that Collingsworth put his personal interests above all others, but he was quite comfortable working with that kind of guy.

“Will your senate or party leadership put up with this?” Crane continued, intentionally tweaking the senator’s pride, it seemed. “I mean it will be a huge slap in the face for the administration and cannon fodder for any senators tied to their coattails at the next election. This may be too much for even you to weather, Senator.”
This was masterful,
Hugo thought admiringly.
Wellington is playing the senator like a harp.

“I am my own man, Wellington, and I call ‘em like I see ‘em. My weak-kneed friends will just have to deal with it. I was against Burkmeister long before he received the Republican Party’s nomination and even more horrified when he picked that commie whacko Clayton McCarty to be his running mate. No, my true constituents are the real Americans in our party, and I believe they are all in lockstep with me.”

“You are a brave American, Senator, and you can count on my support in all that you do. I’ll make sure you get all the national airtime you need to tell it like it is, and I have some very rich and powerful backers who’ll be glad to align with a man like you.”

Hugo was ecstatic as he contemplated the power, money, and access that Crane could bring to the table.
Don’t blow it, Senator,
he kept thinking to himself.

“Glad to help out, Wellington,” the senator replied. “Now, how do we get started?”

“If it’s all right with you, I’ll have my production manager get in touch to work out the logistics. I know it’s last-minute stuff, but if either of you have the time for a quick visit and a little Southern hospitality, I could have my private jet pick you up. I’m free this weekend, as a matter of fact, if you folks are available.”

Hugo was bursting with excitement at the prospect:
A connection to Crane could prove useful once Collingsworth’s star stops climbing,
he thought as the senator gushed, “I think we could both clear our calendars for a Saturday visit, if that would work for you, Wellington.”

“That’s wonderful, Senator. Perhaps we can even talk about our first road show. I’d be glad to host it in a Texas city of your choice. I’d envision it as sort of a large-scale town-hall meeting in a facility that could hold at least five thousand people. We’d use a panel format, moderated by myself, and the three panelists would be General Axman, Reverend Eastwood, and you. It would be a live show, played out to over twenty million of my loyal listeners, and you, Senator, would be the headline speaker.”

“This is great, Wellington. Count me in!”

After saying their good-byes, Hugo and the senator stared at each other, almost disbelieving the good fortune that had suddenly fallen in their laps. What better way to expose the Burkmeister administration for the fraud it was than a powerful media partnership?
Who knows,
Hugo dreamily thought,
this might even be the catalyst that launches a presidential run for the boss.
He was almost measuring the drapes for his new office in the White House.