Carrabolla turned white as a ghost.
“This is insane; this is not Islam,” the president muttered.
“It certainly is Islam according to the Fatwas put out by their mullahs,” Mertzl commented brutally. “Their opinion of Islam matters more than ours.”
FBI director MacCloud, agreed. “Sir, this is what the Islamists call ‘Conquest by the Right Hand.’ It is how they subjugate societies: taking their women, making them pay the jizya tax, restricting their rights, outlawing worship of other religions. It is documented to be taking place in Europe as we speak and we have seen traffic on the internet describing the same thing here in the United States since 2005. There are no doubt small rings of jihadists that have practiced this here already, albeit on a small scale.”
“That cannot be true,” the president said emphatically.
“It is true Mr. President,” MacCloud said in a tone that clearly unnerved the president. “In Dearborn, Michigan the Islamists are allowed to demonstrate but the Christian community is not. In New York City Muslim prayers block the streets every Friday — let the Catholic Church try and get away with that — and yet nothing is done.”
“They are showing their faith,” the president protested.
“Director Gann is absolutely right. If the Jews, Catholics, Protestants, anyone but the Muslims showed the same faith the media would be all over them,” Mertzl objected. “It’s a damn double standard.”
“There is no double standard,” the president insisted.
MacCloud insisted, “There is a double standard Mr. President and it’s getting dangerous. Mr. President, your attorney general has issued orders to me banning the terms “Islamic terrorist,” “honor killings,” and “jihadist.” He has interfered with investigations, with your blessing, to classify obvious terrorist acts as workplace violence to desensitize them.
“Mr. President, the beheading of a fifty-three year old grandmother in a bakery by a man yelling Allahu Akbar is no more workplace violence than the massacre at Fort Hood. Mr. President — let me be blunt — we do not need to be protecting people who by their own admission are trying to kill us.”
“Enough!” Oetari snapped. “There is no domestic terrorism problem! There is no Muslim terrorist problem — period! I’ll have no more discussion along those lines. Such talk is bigotry and I will not have that in my administration!”
“Then what would you like to do about the ISIS fighters and their — expressions of faith — Mr. President?” Mertzl asked frigidly.
The president glowered silently, muttering to himself.
Mertzl took a step forward and scowled. “Mr. President, you agreed that we could not allow ISIS free reign to expand their terrorist state. Thousands upon thousands of lives are at stake. Remember the civilian casualty figures from Fallujah and Mosul. Hundreds of thousands of civilians have been murdered, enslaved or become refugees. We have a responsibility to stop this.”
“History teaches us that adventures like this only inflame the Muslim population,” Oetari replied in an equally blunt tone of voice, but he would not meet Mertzl’s gaze. He retreated to the window, looking out over the White House lawn. “The world is a messy place. These kinds of things have been happening for years; Al Qaeda beheaded dozens of people on video after we invaded and occupied Iraq!
“I’m not sure why there’s such a hue and cry now, but the polls don’t lie, the American people want blood. With the Mid-term elections coming up in a few months I had to give them something; now I regret it. This is what happens when you seek a military solution.”
“Mr. President, with all due respects, it only takes one side to require a military solution,” General Mertzl insisted. “ISIS does not give us any other choice. You can’t negotiate with terrorists!”
Oetari turned on the chairman. “So you favor escalation; after this fiasco? The nephew of the Turkish President is dead at the hands of American forces!”
“Sir, he was consorting with terrorists and murderers,” Gann reminded the president. He added carefully, “This incident highlights a possible connection between a trusted NATO ally and the growing terrorist state in the Middle East. That is highly disturbing.”
General Mertzl piggy backed on the director’s comments, insisting, “We need to do more. The Iraqi’s are wholly incapable of meeting this threat, the Kurds are barely hanging on, and the Turks are simply watching ISIS slaughter innocent men, women and children. If we do not intervene ISIS will expand its so-called caliphate to encompass Syria and Iraq, maybe south-eastern Turkey.”
The general furrowed his heavy brows, adding gruffly, “If left unchecked, they will pursue their goal of absorbing Jordan and the Arabian Peninsula as well. Thousands more will die and millions will be persecuted.”
“A Caliphate is their heritage, and as long as it doesn’t cause war with Israel or NATO I don’t see why it’s any of our business. Violence only begets violence.” Oetari reminded General Mertzl, glancing up at the block of a man with clear dislike. “I agreed to this operation because of the Iranian connection. I agree that we don’t want these people working together. However, that’s as far as I go!”
“Our profiles of the ISIS players,” Gann began, but that’s as far as he got before the president interrupted him.
“Profiles? Are you kidding? Profiles!” Oetari barked with disdain. “I grew up with these people in Indonesia, I understand them. Their entire lives, indeed for almost fifteen hundred years they’ve been held down by the West. Why don’t they deserve a caliphate, their own ‘Rome’ if you will? A united Muslim world is a dream of every Muslim, and why not?
“Certainly Christians have the same wish. Why should Muslims be treated with less legitimacy? I think it would be easier for us, the West, to deal with a proud Muslim world instead of an angry Muslim world.” He shook his head vehemently, adding under his breath, “You people simply don’t understand how the West has infuriated people all over the world!”
“How so Mr. President?” the general asked, seemingly genuinely mystified and miffed, but then the general was always angry at something.
“Desert Storm?” the president remarked hotly. “You do remember the invasion and occupation of Iraq don’t you?”
“I certainly do Mr. President,” the general replied.
“Where were the weapons of mass destruction?”
“Mr. President, you know very well that there were weapons of mass destruction: over five thousand chemical munitions were found!”
“Chemical munitions!” Oetari said with disdain.
“Chemical munitions are classified as weapons of mass destruction by the United Nation and for good reason,” Mertzl reminded the president. “Saddam Hussein used poison gas on the Kurds, his fellow Muslims, killing thousands. He not only had weapons of mass destruction, he used them,” the general replied with a partial dry laugh. “He was working on nukes. The United Nations decided that was too big a risk for the Middle East and approved Desert Storm.”
“On false data supplied by this country,” Oetari pronounced with particular vitriol on the word country. “We’re always throwing our weight around, meddling in the affairs of others. We, the United States, always know best. It’s been the same since Rome; only the West knows the meaning of civilization. People in other parts of the world know nothing!”
The three members of the military/intelligence community exchanged glances. They knew what they were up against — that was their job. President Oetari’s obvious bitterness over the West could be understood by his upbringing.
The president made no secret of it. He boasted being the product of a hippie, communist, counter-culture, activist mother who fled the United States after a stint in the domestic terrorist group ‘The Motorcycle Men.’ His mother was famous for lauding the Manson murders, writing that the rich pigs got what they deserved.