“No, I admit that is not in my best interests.”
“Mr. President if ISIS is faced with muscle, real muscle like Iran and the threat of Iranian intervention, they’ll crawl right back into their foreskins.”
Aliaabaadi grimaced at the analogy, but he pursed his lips and nodded. “I agree that they must be reined in. Such brutality in the Prophet’s name does no one any good.” He paused, sipping at his tea before saying, “Perhaps you do not know this; I am also concerned with ISIS, so much so that I have directed my own chief of security, Colonel Nikahd to speak with the ISIS field commanders. He is in the Islamic State as we speak, and at great personal risk, I might add.”
“Do you think he will have any luck?” Freddy said with real frustration. “We are not opposed to the goals of an Islamic homeland to balance out Israel, but their brutality makes it impossible for Americans to buy the whole “Religion of Peace” line!”
“That is only half the problem,” Aliaabaadi sighed. “They are forming a government in competition with the Muslim world instead of in concert with us. They have a revenue stream through their Syrian oil wells on the black market. This is no longer a phantom menace Mr. Waters. President Oetari’s refusal to deal with ISIS when they were vulnerable has put us all in a difficult position.”
“We are not the world’s policeman,” Freddy Waters said firmly, as determined as Oetari that America should not flex its military muscle. “Those days are over.”
“Someone must fill the void Mr. Waters,” Aliaabaadi said with equal candor, spreading his long fingered hands out wide. “That is the reason ISIS exists. You did not create it but you allowed it to grow and become strong. If the United States will not do it then we must secure our own interests. We cannot allow a group of autonomous thugs who enjoy rape, murder and mayhem to become a nation much less the Caliphate.”
“You do not have any plans to engage them militarily?” Waters pressed.
“We are attempting to instruct them on the bigger picture of things to come,” Aliaabaadi assured him. “We want them to see a future and not just the pleasures of the present.”
“Pleasures?” Waters smirked unpleasantly.
“Mr. Waters when you are angry at the world nothing is more pleasurable than taking out your anger on others. These ISIS scum claim to be establishing the Caliphate but in reality they are simply using that as an excuse to feed their lust and their thirst for blood and revenge — against anyone and everyone, Muslim, Christian or Jew — they don’t care.”
“Whatever you can do to tone them down will help all of us,” Waters told Aliaabaadi. “Remember, we want you to succeed Mr. President. Your support will be vital for President Oetari’s political future.”
“Really? I thought President Oetari already won his second term; that is, unless he wishes to really discard the Constitution as his adversary’s claim,” Aliaabaadi said, standing up and indicating that the interview was over.
Waters stood as well, explaining, “He’d love to rewrite it himself, but that’s not in the cards. American’s love their mythological Constitution with its mythological Founding Fathers. Even Oetari can’t change that, so he’s not going to try.”
“What is he running for then?”
“Something far more meaningful to him and to you than his temporary post as President of the United States: the Secretary-General of the United Nations.”
Freddy followed Aliaabaadi’s lead to the door, espousing his own dreams if not the president’s. “After Oetari finishes tearing down the imperialist power in the US, he’ll go on to his true tasking and his ultimate goal of establishing a much more global hierarchy through the UN; a hierarchy where the old colonial powers are simply member countries in a greater more equal world.”
“Well that is ambitious,” Aliaabaadi smiled. “I must ask, however, why I should support such an ambitious man? What is in it for me?”
“Well, you know the affinity the president has for the work you are doing,” Freddy told him. “Previous presidents were just staunch supporters of Israel; they viewed the Persian and Arab states as second class — afterthoughts.”
“And this president has repeatedly told us that he understands our people; our struggle. That is good rhetoric Mr. Waters, but words are simply words,” Aliaabaadi stopped at the door, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully. “That is, unless President Oetari allows us entry into the most exclusive club in the world?”
“Of course,” Freddy assured him. “When your Caliphate is established it will bring stability to the Middle East. When that Caliphate is armed in such a way as to bring balance to all continents of the world then we can truly pursue our dream of world equality.”
It took a man who wanted to rule the world to recognize another man who wanted to rule the world. “Very good. Assure President Oetari that he shall have our support.”
“Thank you Mr. President,” Freddy said, shaking hands. The aides escorted him out.
When the door closed Aliaabaadi shook his head and said, “Poor President Oetari; he dreams of his happy worldwide utopia! Let him plan on his New World Order. In time his election to the UN, though he thinks it inevitable, will not matter. It will be his undoing. We shall take the international structure he has fabricated and use it to quickly establish the eternal Caliphate throughout the world.”
He turned to Feruud and asked sternly, “Will three tons of Uranium be enough?”
Feruud smiled and nodded.
Aliaabaadi grinned. “Excellent! ISIS will supply us with the diversion, Al Qaeda with the delivery vehicle and we will supply the means to destroy Zion. By the time the West figures this out Israel will be no more and the Mahdi will have established a new Caliphate. We will establish the New World Order; the final world order.”
CHAPTER 7: The Disappearance of Malaysia 666
Both Abdullereda and Muhammad looked at each other, sweat beading on their foreheads. The Al Qaeda terrorist reached inside his pocket.
The captain swallowed and asked, “What is it you think you know Jaren?”
The young man laughed and pointed his thumb back at Suri, who was bringing him coffee. “Suri told me all about your dinner plans in Beijing. I hate to be the one to ruin them but I found something on my walk around. We have what looks to be a bad tire,” he reported. He slid past the fuming Al Qaeda terrorist and slid into his seat, completely oblivious of the effect he had on the two terrorists.
“It is a split across the tread,” he explained, meaning the tire. “There are two red cords showing. I’ll write it up, but it will take some time to change it.” Jaren brought up the maintenance reports page in the ACARS.
“No, we’ll write it up in Beijing,” the captain replied firmly. When Jaren looked at him in surprise, he qualified the statement. “Operations already let me know about it. Maintenance caught that during the walk around but they don’t have a tire. We’ll get it in Beijing; they already know about it.”
“We don’t have a spare tire?” Jaren said incredulously.
Abdullereda stiffened with real anger, and bristled, “Are you questioning my authority as captain or as a Muslim?”
The first officer didn’t look satisfied, but he didn’t dare argue with the captain. In Asia that was simply not done. There was a strict caste system even amongst pilots. When Korean Air 007 flew into Russian airspace both first officers were well aware that their captain had erroneously programmed their Flight Management Computer, but neither of them had the courage to violate the cockpit protocol. They flew right into a Russian missile, fully aware of their captain’s mistake but too smothered by the caste system to violate tradition.