“The fighting men and women of this country are doing their duty, just as the service people across the pond are doing theirs… whilst you mister, are not qualified, either professionally, personally or morally to use the collective term WE… in the context of any of the fighting and dying that is going on!” The senator was used to dealing with persons of a politically like mind, and those who wanted something from him. He was quite unaccustomed to being spoken to harshly by anyone, let alone someone in uniform, and therefore a menial.
“The forces deployed off the North Cape on that first day did not drop the ball, they were vaporised, burnt, blown up, shot down or sunk. We did not warn the Europeans that they could be coming again, the Europeans discovered that for themselves and told us, and it was European troops and intelligence sources infiltrating some of the most tightly defended real estate on the planet, who told us all that the aircraft and warships were heading west. That warning may not come again, because damn few of those men and women who went behind the lines are answering their radios anymore, the lucky ones are dead, the unlucky ones are having their fingernails pulled out about now. As for fumbling the ball, they sank nineteen missile and attack submarines, twenty-nine surface combat ships and shot down sixty-eight combat aircraft. They achieved all that without any help from us, or may I say from you either.” Henry Shaw picked up a thick sheaf of paper from before him and tossed it at the politician. “… that is the latest NATO casualty list. Ships, aircraft, ground personnel, aircrew and seamen, involved in that particular battle. Had it been US Navy ships on the line then the only difference would have been the addresses on the next-of-kin telegrams.”
The President had invited these people here, because he needed their support to quell the murmurs of dissent over the course of the war, high casualties and little successes. He had warned the senator about his tone and choice of words, around the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, that warning had not been able to pierce the armour of arrogance the politician cloaked about himself. He shot both the general and the politician a warning look, but the senator was on his feet, pulling his well-fed girth from out of the chair.
“You God damned glorified throw-back from the Middle Ages, just who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” He left his place at the table and came around to stand behind Henry, who remained seated and steadfastly looking to the front.
“I’m Walter S Rickham, I’m not some punk, white trash private… I could have your stars just by snapping my fingers, and The President would give them to me because he needs my lobby for re-election. This is the real world General, this is my world, and nothing about your world influences the big picture. I don’t give a crap about how many Frenchies, Limeys or pig-thick Poll-ack’s die, because they don’t pay American taxes or vote in our elections. For every inch of ground those yellow bastards give up that’s an inch less of influence we will have once this things over. You get your ass over there and make those Europeans fight, because when Americans die then it makes us look bad to the people who do count, the people who fund and back elections. You and your kind are a ten-a-penny… the trailer parks and ghettos of full of your kind, good for nothing but going where we tell you and fighting for American interests… but you can’t see that can you, you don’t have the intellect or the genes to see who the real Generals are!”
Henry Shaw did not respond, and Rickham realised the general was totally ignoring him. Walter S Rickham wasn’t used to being ignored by those he considered to be members of the ‘ruled classes’. He grabbed Henry by the collar, dragging him around to face him.
“Walter!” The President had risen from his chair and was looking daggers at his fellow politician. “That’s enough!”
Rickham let go of the general with a contemptuous flourish, and only then did Henry look at him. “You got that one for free.”
Rickham strode to the door of the conference room, stopping for the marine sentry to open it for him, which he did, after a very deliberate pause.
The briefing continued for another half an hour before breaking up and the President sent an aide off to find Rickham, whilst General Shaw returned to his own staff, and the matter that he had been dealing with before the briefing.
If the President had to choose between the general and the senator to be stranded on a life raft with, without hesitation he would have picked Henry Shaw, but he had goals he wanted to achieve whilst being the President, and for that he needed Rickham. Before he left the White House, he wanted decent education, literacy for all and one hell of a lot more people living above the poverty line. He wasn’t aiming for an instant zero unemployment Utopia, but full education for all would be the first step on that road. The bottom line was, he needed a second term in office if he hoped to achieve that, and for that he needed the Rickham’s and grubby money that the man represented. Henry Shaw had ruffled Rickham’s feathers, and the President needed to smooth them over, the best way he could think of doing that was to massage the man’s ego.
“Walt, I haven’t been able to have a face to face with the other allied leaders since the war started, and video conferencing lacks the personal touch.”
“You can’t smell the other guys fear.” Rickham nodded.
It wasn’t actually what the President had meant, but he gave a half smile that flicked on and then off.
“Walt I am sending one of the Presidential seven forty seven’s to Europe, and the other over to Australia and New Zealand to collect heads of state or their representatives, and bring them back here for a face to face summit. I’m shorthanded, we lost a lot of good people in Washington, and so I would take it as a big favour if you would accompany the flight to Europe as my personal representative?”
The President hid a smile as he saw Rickham’s reaction; it was subtle body language clues that gave him away, a glint in the eye and the subconscious squaring of the shoulders. The man was both flattered and calculating how this could be turned to its best advantage, what ‘spin’ to apply. The capital could be great, ‘At a time of global conflict, the President turned to me personally for assistance.’
“Mr President, in the crisis such we find ourselves in, it would be very small minded of me to refuse such a request.”
“Thank you Walter.” He replied with a gracious smile, and made a mental note to inform the leaders who would be on Air Force One, that absolutely nothing of any sensitivity was to be discussed or disclosed in this man’s presence.