Dad drank a beer and sat on the couch and offered an opinion. “The world is coming apart at the seams son. We have let the politicians get us into this oil mess as they are all in bed with the oil companies. I thank God that I will not be around long enough to watch the next World War.”
“That will be my problem Dad. If I have anything to say about it, there will never be another major war.”
“I wish you the best son and know that you are doing what you can.” Dad turned off the TV and played his stereo system. He never liked “that new fangled stuff” and never went any further than vinyl albums. Cassettes were rejected thirty years previous and CD’s were from an alternate reality. Each time he played one of the 33 RPM’s he wiped it with a white cloth and carefully tucked it back into one of the dozen cabinets. His favorite records included Jimmy Swaggert and his bother Jerry Lee Lewis, Crazy Otto, The Dukes of Dixieland, and Jimmy Durante doing his nightclub act with Ethel Merman.
Dad played a baritone in the Salvation Army Band and Houston could remember sitting long hours in the practice room of the New Baptist church basement when he was about ten years old listening to military marches that were always played at a furious cadence. Whenever he listened to the Marines Marching Band at the presidential events, it seemed they were dragging a bit.
Mom finished washing the dishes and sat on the couch. “Carol called me the other day and asked me to say ‘hi’ to you. You two must have missed each other by a smidgen.”
“Somalia is a big country. It may be unimportant to most, but the chance of running across any one person is about zero. If she is with the Red Cross, she could be anywhere and probably moves from town to town regularly.”
“Do you think you are going to be assigned there again?”
“One never knows in my business. It could happen. If I do you can give me her number and I could possibly find time to see her. It has been many years.”
There were many summers on Lake Michigan when her family came to visit. Carol was always excited to see her Uncle Houston and the two often ended up taking a ferry to Mackinaw Island, visiting the funhouse, lounging on the porch of the Grand Hotel and bicycling around the island. He always purchased her a memento in one of the gift shops; sometimes a ceramic horse and other times a charm bracelet. Every time he thought of it, he would take a deep breath and recall the sweet and sour odor of fudge and horse manure that drifted over the island. There was no other place on earth quite like it. Those were some of the happiest moments of my life.
Landenberger picked up the red phone in the WHSR.
Robinson prepared to leave and Landenberger motioned for him to remain seated and turned on the speaker. “This is Harazi. How are you my friend?” The prime minister said that he and Dazdraperm were debating if they should send some navy patrol boats into the Indian Ocean as a token offering to the crisis.
“Robinson is here Mr. Prime Minister.”
“My good friend Robinson, you must come visit me soon. It has been awhile since we have broken bread together.”
“Too long, yes I will make a point of stopping by very soon.”
Landenberger said, “I would think it is best to stay out of it right now. Tensions are very high and you would not want your forces involved in a skirmish that could be twisted. You could announce that you intend to do this and then not mention a date. The goodwill would be there and the risk of something turning ugly would not be there. When the timing looks good to you, perhaps when the crisis is over, you might bring in a patrol boat or two. That’s my initial reaction.”
The prime minister agreed, “That appears to be excellent advice. The last thing we need is another crisis. Does that sound good to you Robinson?”
“It makes sense to me and of course the decision is yours to make. It is kind of your nation to offer assistance.”
“I will consider your advice, Mr. President.”
Robinson and Landenberger had moved to the Oval Office when the hot line signaled an incoming call.
The distinctive Russian voice of Kuznetsov greeted him. “I thought we should have a little chat.”
“It is good that you call. I have thought of calling you.”
“We should call each other more often. The cold war is over and we are not that far apart on many issues. I felt I must call as comments I make publically can be misinterpreted. If you remember I did tell you that Iranian ears listen very closely to what the two of us say.”
“I imagine they do.”
“Our many years of selling weapons and technology are being phased out. It is being done gradually as we want to remain as friendly appearing as possible. Anything too abrupt would make them suspicious.”
“I remember our day at the UN when you mentioned this.”
“I am sure you are aware that we have increased our oil production dramatically and only recently have completed several strategic pipelines.”
“I have heard that.”
“I want you to know that we are prepared to sell you as much as you can use. If your regular sources are cut off for any reason we can get emergency oil to you. Officially we are not discussing this. Do you understand?”
“Yes, of course.”
“It is a new alliance, a business arrangement for our mutual benefit. In time the world will know of it. It is best not to announce such a thing.”
“I understand.”
“You do not need to necessarily accept this offer. I am offering to sell you oil, to become a customer — that is all. I would not expect you to change your arrangements with other countries as it is not our intention to negatively affect others. The world is in the need of oil. Rather than sell weapons as we have done in the past, we are going to supply oil.”
“I will discuss this at my end and I don’t see any reason my people would not accept this offer. You have extended a friendly hand and we would be foolish not to accept it.”
“That is good. I will not press you on this. The ball, as your countrymen say, is in your court.”
Landenberger and Robinson sat for nearly a minute looking at one anther trying to digest the call. Robinson spoke first. “What do you think?”
“I have a feeling we may be buying Russian oil very soon. The Middle East is cut off and I’ve been advised that the Strategic Reserve cannot be utilized for more than another week. After that we need the oil for our military.”
Robinson sipped on a bottle of sparkling water. “I imagine that it will take some time to turn on the spigot. Probably the earlier you give him the word, the earlier we will be accepting deliveries.”
“We are truly in a new era. Kuznetsov has thrown the first pitch and it is up to us if we wish to take a swing.”
“He certainly knows we may need the extra oil soon and I would be surprised if his country is not already receiving orders from around the globe.”
“If that is true then his offer is a generous goodwill offering as not everyone will receive all the oil they need during the crisis.”
“Everyone is going to suffer and that reminds me that I must prepare our citizens for the likelihood that we will need to cut back consumption for a week or two.”
“Let’s hope it does not go on much longer.”
Chapter Fifteen
Sufyan Thawri said “Goodbye” to his wife and family at Tehran International not knowing the misfortune ahead of him. By all accounts it was one of many trips and there was no reason to believe anything could go wrong.
Not until terrorists took over the plane.
Now he calculated he would be dead before the day was over.