“I would agree, Mr. President. I was going to suggest that very idea, but I see you sense the gravity of protecting the Russian tankers. The returning tankers are as important as the loaded tankers. The loss of thirty-four tankers to the world economy is staggering enough and it will take several years to construct more. I would suggest that deliveries be highly regular as allowing other countries to engage their services for the shortest of time could eventually cause interruptions that could upset our fragile economy. In short, the tankers and the regular deliveries are as important as the oil.”
“You are trying to tell me something?”
“Do not haggle over the price. In the end we would suffer. The Russians do not set the price as you know. It is set by traders in the oil pits. If the oil companies complain that they are receiving too much oil, plan to rebuild the Strategic Reserve with the excess. You should pass along the idea that they should purchase the oil regardless of need as they can always resell it to other countries. If you consider that Russia was not able to supply this oil, the world economy would collapse.”
“You’ll want to talk to your FED people about how you are going to trade with Russian rubles. The dollar is very weak and my understanding is something will need to be done. I’m not the expert on that.”
“The world is held together by bubblegum and string then.”
“That is one way to describe it.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Do I dare ask?
Robinson had spent two days with General Dimochka in Beledweyne and had come to the conclusion that he was an amazing man in every way. It was little wonder his troops performed so well. So many times he had overheard the soldiers talking among themselves, “We do it for Dimochka.” They would give each other hi-fives and set out on their hair-raising missions of taming the wild western plains of Somalia. He estimated the body count ran several thousand a day as he witnessed it all first hand in the OC listening to the progress with the missions. It was unfortunate there were so many malcontents as the local radio and TV stations made it clear that food, shelter, medical care and a meaningful job awaited every citizen. Amnesty was offered to all — it was a clean slate and all transgressions were forgiven.
While thousands joined in rebuilding the country, others resisted and roamed the streets determined to fight to the death. And they did. Tanks and choppers perpetually roamed the city killing them as fast as they cared to show themselves. The streets ran red with blood, but Robinson could see that it was the only way to retain order and set up an orderly society. Everything considered, it was the only way to do it.
He imagined his own country tackling the same job being so careful to be politically correct. Every kill would be carefully analyzed by the press, and cameras and news reporters would be in the way and criticizing every move. Everything would come to a grinding halt in a morass of bureaucracy.
He spent much of his time with Spencer and Wagner. They worked tirelessly caring for the wounded, mostly gang members who had survived the initial onslaught of the Russians. Some remained belligerent and were hauled off to prison while others came to see the light and many elected to work in the hospital and join up with the new order. He was seeing the transformation of an entire nation before his eyes. It was truly an inspiration and he wished there was some way the Americans could see it as it served as positive proof that there was more than one way to accomplish a goal.
Turner and Wagner were patching up a bullet wound to the leg of an Asu. A doctor had removed the bullet five minutes earlier and had moved on to the next patient. He received a call from VP Prottenger a half hour earlier. “The president needs you here.”
“It is nice to feel needed.”
“He does not know that I am calling. When you see him, do not let him know that I called you. He is becoming depressed and needs you to be at his side in order to bring him back to his usual self. He puts on a nice facade; however he is not fooling any of the Cabinet members. He can’t make a simple decision. His confidence is gone. We are all afraid for him. We think he is considering resigning from office. I have Melissa Farnsworth here and she wants to talk to you.”
“Hello Watchdogg!” She was always upbeat. “You must simply get yourself back here pronto. Some of us are trying to get Landenberger turned around and we are getting nowhere. He spends hours in his Oval Office refusing to talk to anyone and God only knows what he is doing in there.”
“That does not sound like him at all.”
“This Operation OMAN debacle has him over the edge. Have you been following the events in the last couple of days? The press is tearing him to pieces. His popularity rating has dropped to nine percent. I am telling you we are in trouble.”
“I’ll be in the air in less than an hour. Let my secretary arrange for a ride from BWI-Marshall directly to the White House and let Landenberger know I’m coming. Maybe that will cheer him up.”
“Thanks, Watchdogg. You are a lifesaver.”
Turner gave the Asu a shot in the arm.” This will help you sleep. When you wake up you’ll be as good as new.” She smiled and dabbed his arm with a piece of cotton.
“I received a call from the White House. They want me back there ASAP. I must leave immediately.”
“Well Sugar,” Turner called him “Sugar” all the time now. When he inquired, she said she did not understand why she called him that. She never called anyone “Sugar” in her life and had always felt insulted when strangers called her “sweetie.”
“I dunno, it feels right. I’ll try to stop myself from saying it if it bothers you.”
“No; call me ‘Sugar’ if it feels right to you. It feels odd anyone calling me that. I’ll get used to it. The formality of being in the White House is a part of it.”
“We are a long way from the White House and formality has no place here.”
Tanisha and Wagner moved on to another patient who had a blood soaked towel wrapped around his head.
Robinson had no time to think about his proposal. It could be out of line to suggest it. He blurted it out as diplomatically as he could. “It is only a thought. I see the two of you working so hard here and you both look like you could use a break.”
Wagner said, “We are like the Duracell bunny. We just keep on going and going.”
Turner unwrapped the towel and tossed it away. She called a doctor over who began threading a needle. “We are kind of busy right now….”
The clock was ticking. “I think you both could use a vacation. Perhaps a ride back to the States to visit your family….”
Turner contemplated, “Well that would be a real break, would it not?”
“Not me gal.’ muttered Wagner. “I ain’t got no family, no home, nutt’n. There’s nutt’n there for me.”
He laid it out. “You could come back with me right now and I would escort you to Petoskey to visit your family. My mother would go with us as she enjoys the memories. We still own the house. We could all stay there for a day. I’d see you off for a return trip.”
Turner stopped her work and looked at him.
Will she go? This is a big leap to even ask this. I feel like a fool. I should have kept my big mouth shut. Oh God why did I even say anything? I know she likes me, but this is asking too much.
“This is so sudden. I must decide this moment?” She appeared to be thinking out loud. “There is so much to do here. Our work is important…. No…. no. I am flattered that you would make this offer. You are so sweet to offer a ride, but my work is here.”