Lethal Trajectories (47 page)

The Department of Energy, Transportation, and Climate-change successfully introduced a gasoline rationing plan. In many respects, the combination of sky-high gasoline prices and the economic depression dampened the demand for gas; where needed, the gas rationing plan exceeded all expectations.

The ETCC department also introduced a two-phase program to address the climate challenge. Phase I was a domestic effort to discourage the use of carbon fuels and encourage the use of cleaner, renewable-energy systems. The additional tax on carbon fuels and warning to polluters to clean up their act or face stiff fines had its desired effect. Utility companies were strongly encouraged to shift their profit incentives from energy
used
to energy
saved,
and the local regulatory hurdles and red tape that had prevented such actions were quickly bulldozed by federal preemptions under the EEFA-18 Act.

Phase II was scheduled to begin with an international conference slated for May 2018. Both China and the United States pledged to use their influence and economic muscle to mandate sharp reductions in greenhouse gas emissions and offer a system of credits and financial supports for infrastructure development in poorer countries. Clayton McCarty and Lin Cheng recognized early on that their respective countries would have to “walk the talk” if they were to expect other nations to follow, and McCarty used this imperative as an effective lever to push for domestic climate-change initiatives in the United States.

The relationship between China and the United States continued to improve as both sides found new opportunities to work together. Lin Cheng addressed a joint session of Congress shortly after the death of President Burkmeister, helping McCarty to garner support for their collaborative effort and softening the criticism of those accusing McCarty of sleeping with the enemy. True to his word, Lin Cheng invited McCarty to address the Politburo and speak to the people of China in an uncensored presentation—an invitation he gladly accepted and carried out in late November.

Lin Cheng also had his hands full as the Politburo members felt the increasing effect of economic disorder in their districts. China’s inability to export goods to a floundering global market was taking its toll. For the first time in the century, China’s economy was contracting, and party leaders panicked as jobs disappeared and populations grew restless. Civil disobedience was immediately quelled, but the trajectories they portended were ominous.

Lin Cheng knew that even if China had all the oil it needed, it would find little relief until the global economy was restored and nations could once again afford to buy Chinese exports. Lin knew that affordability of oil was the dragon in the canary cage, and until it was remedied, there would be no easy solutions.

King Mustafa’s regime was also cracking at the seams. His hardline reforms did not sit well with sectors of the Saudi population that had enjoyed a more moderate culture and government, and the economic impact of withholding large amounts of oil from foreign markets was being felt throughout the kingdom. Irreparable geologic damage was done to a number of Saudi oil fields where production was curtailed too abruptly, and oil storage became a major problem for the Mustafa regime. Mustafa started to sell a couple of million barrels of oil a day through surrogates in Kuwait, Qatar, and the UAE to ease the economic pain, but he also had to look the other way as they started selling more of their own oil. It weakened the effect of the embargo, but what else could he do? The additional supply, coupled with the reduction in demand due to the global economic meltdown, created a slight drop in oil prices, but the irreparable damage to the global economy had been done.

The protectorate alliance Mustafa had with his Gulf neighbors was also weakening. They were unwilling or unable to expel all Western military forces from their countries, and Mustafa was in no mood to engage those forces with his thinly spread armored brigades. He prudently withdrew his forces to the edges of their borders and relied more on his dirty-bomb deterrents than on land-based buffer zones to prevent an attack on Saudi territory.

Israel remained in the highest state of alert, but the prolonged effect of their full mobilization was taking its toll on the economy and psyche of the country. The insurrections in Gaza and the West Bank were eventually silenced, with great loss of lives and property. Israel had secured its borders with an iron fist after intercepting two dirty-bomb terrorist plots that would most assuredly have led to an all-out air assault on Saudi Arabia, had not President McCarty put his foot down. If it happened again, Israel proclaimed its intention to attack, regardless of American sentiment.

Prince Khalid ibn Saud had been granted asylum in the United States and used his time to build a cadre of military forces and political allies to help him reclaim Saudi Arabia. He pursued his contacts with OPEC and other Arab leaders and had a fair amount of success building an underground network in Saudi Arabia. His vision was clear: he would lead a force that would oust the Mustafa regime and restore Saudi Arabia to the responsible and stable nation it once was.

The Persian Gulf and surrounding countries became an armed camp. The allied forces crammed their combined air, sea, and land power into a relatively small area to enable massive strikes on short notice. The only thing standing in the way was the dirty-bomb shields lacing Saudi Arabian oil fields and threatening its Gulf neighbors. Without the dirty bombs, Mustafa’s regime, while formidable, was all but defenseless against the combined might of the allied coalition led by the United States and China.

As but one example of the military buildup, the Americans had bolstered their Fifth Fleet, headquartered in Bahrain, with three additional aircraft carrier battle groups. A large proportion of America’s air and ground forces, in fact, were within striking distance of Saudi Arabia and alert at all times for trouble. The allies joined in with strong matching forces.

Life for Clayton and Maggie McCarty was also challenging. For security and other reasons, they had combined two bedrooms on the second floor of the White House into a private apartment for Jack McCarty. While only a temporary arrangement, it made life easier for both brothers during the tumultuous winter. Maggie McCarty found a new niche promoting the EEFA-18 and was by far the most effective spokesperson for it in the McCarty administration.

On the surface, the low points seemed to be stabilizing, but by early April the United States was about to face another major crisis: following the Saudi oil embargo in October, the United States had begun drawing down its strategic petroleum reserve to supplement part of its oil shortage. The SPR had, at the onset, 422 million barrels of oil in its inventory. Throughout the remainder of 2017, America drew down more than three million barrels per day of oil, consuming 225 million barrels of the reserve. In the first quarter of 2018, the SPR drawdown was reduced to two million barrels daily, resulting in the further reduction of 180 million barrels over ninety days. By April, the SPR was tapped out, and America would quickly feel the full catastrophic effect of the global oil crisis.

In this battle of attrition with Mustafa, America’s relative position would significantly weaken once its SPR oil reserve was totally depleted—an event scheduled to occur in early April. China was in a similar position. It was clear to Clayton that conditions would only worsen until Mustafa was ousted and oil markets restored. For the moment, he could see nothing to reverse this trend and had no idea when the suffering would end.

Thousands of miles away from the White House, in the northeastern tip of Saudi Arabia, an unexpected event was about to change the entire equation.

M
ajor General Aabid ibn Al Mishari stared out the window of his decrepit office at the air base, considering his next moves. Once he strapped himself into his F-15 SA two-seat fighter-bomber and departed the base, there would be no turning back. He thought hard about the events that had led him to this point as he waited for nightfall to cover his departure.

It didn’t have to be this way,
he agonized, contemplating the irrevocable act he was about to commit.
I have spent my entire adult life in the Royal Saudi Air Force. I would gladly have died for King Mustafa and the new order he brought to my country. How could everything go so wrong?
Shaking his head sadly, he recalled that fateful meeting last November with his boss, General Aakif Abu Ali Jabar.

“General Ali Jabar,” he had said, “we have worked together for many years and I have never asked you for a personal favor, but I request permission to ask you one now, if I may.”

“Yes, Aabid, what is it?” Ali Jabar responded.

“I have a family problem, sir. My niece—a wonderful young woman of whom I am quite fond—is married to an evil man. He has accused her of infidelity, which I can assure you is not the case, but the religious police have taken her before the ulema. She has been pronounced guilty and will be stoned to death in two days unless, unless …” Desperate, he fumbled for the words.

“Unless what, Aabid?”

“Unless a higher authority pleads for her, General. I know you are close to Mullah Mohammed al-Hazari, and I wonder if you would speak to him and have my niece spared from this gruesome death.”

General Ali Jabar took his time responding to the request. “Why should I do this thing you are asking, Aabid?”

Hope rose in Al Mishari’s heart, and he carried on with an impassioned answer he thought might sway the general. But his hopes disintegrated when the general shot out of his chair, spittle spraying as Ali Jabar screamed out, only inches away from his subordinate’s face, “How dare you come in here with a request like that? I should have you shot. You disrespect our system of justice by even making this request. If your niece was condemned to death by stoning, then that’s what the little harlot must deserve. Now get out of my sight before I decide to shoot you myself.”

Swallowing his horror, Al Mishari saluted respectfully and said, “Of course, General, and I apologize for my indiscretion. I let my emotions get the better of me. You were absolutely right to correct me.” He knew all the right buttons to push to calm the general’s wrath. But as he did, a thought rose from the depths of his heart:
You’ll pay for this with your life, you contemptible little worm.

“You are forgiven, Aabid, but don’t ever let this happen again.”

Al Mishari had left the room that day shattered by his failure to prevent the grisly event that would soon end his beautiful young niece’s life. As the law decreed, she would be buried up to her waist before a cackling crowd of bloodthirsty citizens. She would soon thereafter feel the sharp sting of rocks pelting her body. He hoped in his heart that an early sharp blow to the temple would render her unconscious, but few of the condemned were that lucky. He knew, as he left Ali Jabar’s office, that he would be better off not knowing.

His niece’s death two days later opened his eyes to the brutality of the Mustafa regime, and his hatred and disillusionment focused on Ali Jabar. In the months since her death, Al Mishari had led two lives. In public, he was General Ali Jabar’s loyal chief of intelligence and inspector general of the RSAF. Inside, he cherished his vow to punish Ali Jabar and the brutal regime he represented. He would avenge his niece’s death and at least make her life count for something.

A methodical person, Al Mishari plotted his course carefully. Through his intelligence rank (and Ali Jabar’s thoughtless boasting), he had access to the secrets of the regime. He was one of four people in the kingdom with precise knowledge of the dirty-bomb emplacements, their dismantling protocols, and the code frequencies needed to detonate the bombs out of the central command in Riyadh. Later, using the information supplied by his intelligence network, he had made contact with the underground, and through them he hatched his plan.

Now, as dusk fell, he called the flight line to order his F-15 SA gassed and ready to go in thirty minutes. He loved his plane, with its “Saudi Advanced” SA designation. The F-15 had been delivered by the Americans in 2015, and he had logged over seven hundred hours in it thus far. He used it for all of his inspection tours and, in the process, maintained his rating and prowess as a fighter pilot.

A knock on the door interrupted his fond reverie; his ride to the flight line was there to pick him up.

“Good evening, General,” said the flight line duty officer as he hefted Al Mishari’s personal kit bag and special-delivery “package.” “I understand you are on your way to Dhahran.”

“That’s right, Captain; the end of a long day. Out of Riyadh this morning, inspections in Taif and Jeddah wrapped up, and now here as well. Am I ready to go?”

“Yes, sir, you are, and tower knows you’ll not be filing a flight plan,” replied the alert young officer, aware that Al Mishari often made covert inspections.

Al Mishari carried out his routine preflight inspection with consummate precision. Satisfied that his aircraft was fit to fly, he climbed into the cockpit with the help of a husky sergeant. He carefully tucked away his special package in a stowage space next to his ejection seat, strapped in, and smartly saluted the sergeant before latching the canopy shut.