Casing the Colors © Week 24

Casing the Colors © Week 24 • • • CHAPTER 41 • • The next morning, the group ate breakfast in the same courtyard pavilion. Fresh dates, melons, cheeses and tea, all beautifully served, countered the already hot morning, reducing somewhat Kate Gordon's anxiety and giving her cause, however inapt, to hope for a more decisive meeting than the prior evening had produced. The king offered the opinion that the Alliance could be an oasis, sheltering those who were already in its shade and extending cool relief to those struggling in the desert of poverty and alienation. General Julien watched Kate, wanting to see her successfully pass this test of patience. He steeled himself for at least another hour of cordial platitudes. "Katharine," the king continued, obviously pleased with his metaphor and basking in his pivotal role, "Saadi al-Hafiz will speak for us, but first we propose a toast to you and your husband." The three Arab leaders raised their tea glasses and spoke in Arabic as Maurice Julien translated. "May Allah bless you with many children to comfort you in your old age," he repeated, smiling. "That, my dear, is their way of saying they approve." Saadi put down his tea and began to give a formal speech. "Miss Gordon, I asked to be allowed to give you our response because your government has expressed doubts about the Syrian position following my election last year. But I have served the Syrian people, as all Arab people, who are exhausted with the brutality of the fundamentalists. They misrepresent our religion and they terrorize our citizens as well as yours. When I began to try to live in peace with our Israeli neighbors, I abandoned violence as a policy tool. Our governments seek peace and a better life for our people." The Syrian president shifted slightly in his chair and paused, guardedly regarding his colleagues, who returned his look impassively. "We have in the past," he continued, taking up the line of their collective message, "perhaps from fear and the hope that the terrorists would leave us alone, given Raqqa money. It was more backshish than an indication of support for his goals. He has expressed his gratitude by killing our brother, al-Mektari. It could have been any one of us. We are ready to help you eliminate him." President Saadi leaned back, his part in the morning's agenda obviously finished. "We discussed our position with President Katerinov last night," President Hassan said. "He will arrive today to participate in settling our place in the Alliance. You must be prepared to speak officially for the United States. If we can agree on the role of the Arab world, we will deliver Raqqa." The finality of his statement left little room for further debate so the group ate their breakfast and engaged in pleasantries while the sun erased the shadows from the far courtyard wall. After breakfast, Kate Gordon arranged a conference call with Bill Stevens, her father and Stu Wellford, who was still being monitored but had more freedom after promising to steel himself to continue to give his full support for the goals of American Agenda. The conversation was animated, with Bill Stevens demanding a test to prove the good faith of Saadi al-Hafiz. "He has lied to us for most of his political life," Bill said, "why should we believe him now?" "Because he is afraid of Raqqa," Kate answered. "They all are. Raqqa's devastation of Sicily and the African attacks during the American evacuation was not lost on Arab leaders. Combined with al-Mektari's assassination, the message was clear and they now understand that Raqqa must be eliminated. President Fayoum told me they need us as much as we need them." "Do we have another choice?" Stu Wellford asked. "Without Syria and the countries of North Africa, we would need to be very lucky to catch Raqqa." "Kate," General Gordon said, "ask Katerinov to push Saadi hard. I know the son of a bitch has given money and support to Raqqa. We need to know why he is willing to abandon Raqqa and we need to know quickly." "I'll do my best," Kate responded, "and Alexei will see what he can learn about Raqqa." "Okay," Bill Stevens said. "We'll wait to hear from you. Everything is ready on our end." "When you talk to Dave Browning, tell him the tacos in Rabat are terrific," Kate said to Bill. "It's a private joke to calm his nerves. And for God's sake, don't even think about what we're really doing. It's my neck if the wrong people find out." "Kate, we're watching over for you," her father answered. The telephone conversation petered out in generalities, but while they had been talking, the Moroccan finance minister had started to build the trap to catch Raqqa and his White House informers. • • • CHAPTER 42 • • Maurice Julien waited with Kate for Alexei Katerinov's arrival. During the long morning, he talked about his experience in Morocco. "Because my family knew the Moroccan royal family, I was assigned to Rabat. When my father was killed in a hunting accident, I had to return to France to help with his affairs. But, I came back to Rabat as quickly as I could. You see, I was in love with a Moroccan woman." "Did you marry her?" Kate asked, wondering what had happened to her. "No, for the best of reasons," Maurice replied. "She was the wife of one of the king's ministers. She risked much to be with me whenever possible, but she couldn't find the courage to break free of her tradition, and finally I was recalled to France and had to leave her in Rabat. My mother remarried and gave me the family chateau, but I stayed in the military. I never again thought of marriage. When I retired, I went back to the chateau. It became my hobby, or perhaps my hiding place. You, my dear Katharine, have made it possible for me to feed my spirit again on the beauty of Morocco." They were silent for a few seconds, and then he asked abruptly, "Why did you marry Katerinov and why are you involved in this mess? It surely isn't your father's wish." "In a way, I believe it is," she said. "He and President Harper asked me to help find a candidate for the US presidential election in 2024. We never expected things to unwind as they have. Sometimes I wonder if we're not all revolutionaries." The word pinched. She didn't feel as if they had betrayed America, but she knew it would be history's verdict if they failed to return America to its constitutional system. "But, why did you marry Alexei?" Maurice persisted, ignoring her political response. "Because he took possession of me. He gave me his passion. I'm constantly excited by his fervor for the cause he believes in." "I hope for Alexei's sake your passion lasts," Maurice said skeptically. "Do you think we'll be able to form an alliance that includes the Arab world?" she asked, moving away from the too personal conversation. "Of course," General Julien replied. "Alliances are made by governments for their own selfish needs and interests. But, if the poor and starving of the world ever have reason to celebrate this alliance as the beginning of their salvation, I will be very surprised." "Do you have a better solution?" she demanded, annoyed by his cynicism. "Unfortunately, no, and if the 21st century finishes anything like 20th century ended, all of us will have proved to lack solutions." "This morning, Secretary Stevens told me that Baltic refugees are crowding into north German ports. Stralsund, Wismar, Lybeck. Chancellor Gerhardt is preparing for a violent neo-nazi reaction. The refugees need homes and work and Germany's economy, good as it is, will be stretched by the task. Confrontation seems inevitable." "Wismar," Maurice repeated wistfully, seeming not to have heard the rest of her words. "The town where Britain met Russia in 1945. Events are driving us toward Wismar again. There is, after all, only so much earth to struggle over. I hope the Alliance can hold Ukraine and Belarus in place. We have enough suffering in the world without deliberately creating more. I think you were angry with me a few minutes ago, Katharine, but what we are permitting in the Baltics would make anyone who knew its details skeptical about the moral underpinnings of the Alliance." "When Raqqa has been eliminated, we can resolve the Baltic question," she said. "Right now, Russia needs to keep its western frontiers occupied while it reasserts authority along its southern and Asian borders." Maurice Julien laughed, relishing his moral high ground. "The little countries of the world are right to fear us," he said. "Do you believe we will eliminate our arrogance as easily as we eliminate a few terrorists?" The Berber woman interrupted their argument when she entered the room followed by Alexei. "My dear," he said, embracing Kate as Maurice looked away, with both discretion and disdain. "You are sensible to be in Rabat instead of Moscow in winter. Officially, I am at home suffering from a bout of flu," he continued, releasing her and turning to greet General Julien. "Welcome to Morocco," Maurice said, "the most beautiful country ever sacrificed in the name of independence. I look forward to talking with you at lunch," he added as he reached the door. He left the room so smoothly that the Berber woman was well behind him when he exited. Alexei showered and changed, all the while talking about the possibility of adding the Arab states to the Alliance as part of the plan to stop Raqqa. "It's very interesting to me," Kate said, "that so much of the world now appreciates the advantages of authority as well as good will. Perhaps we giants of the twentieth century weren't so bad after all." "Don't be too sure of that, Katharine, until you have lived in the shadow of the giants," Alexei answered, buttoning his fresh shirt as he spoke. "Replacing a dead geopolitical system is an immense problem, but do not be so mistaken as to believe that we are moving backward." He put on his jacket and took her hand to lead her out into the gardens. As they strolled slowly in the heat, he spoke of his difficulties in Moscow, where the hard-liners were becoming ever more vigorous in their defense of the idea of a Russian empire. "They do not want to believe," he said, "that we are no longer the mighty rulers of half the world and it makes them very dangerous because they cannot understand that the Baltics are only a tactic, not an end in themselves." The Berber woman appeared to lead them to the king's pavilion where the others were assembling for lunch. The conversation during the meal was rapid-fire, with the Russian president leading the way. "Mr. President," Alexei asked, turning to Saadi, "do you think that your country will be able to enforce an agreement that eliminates the possibility of Syria remaining a training ground for terrorists?" Saadi blinked as if he had been slapped but he responded quietly and firmly. "Syria is not now supporting terrorists," he replied. "You, President Katerinov, should know that better than anyone," he answered, regaining his composure. His tone implied complicity. "Our predecessors may have followed other policies, but we intend to cooperate fully and actively in the Alliance. You will recall that for many years, Syria has had a hostile Israeli government and a disintegrating Lebanon on its borders. We understand the danger because we have been betrayed often, by the Turks, the British, and the French," he added, glancing at General Julien. "If our history makes us virile, if we have defended our religion and our culture, we have not been unlike others." Hassan, who had listened intently but with averted eyes, looked up and touched the table beside Saadi's arm. "We are not terrorists, President Katerinov," he said. "Not my brother, Saadi, nor our host, the king. None of us wants our sacred religion to be used as an excuse for political terrorism. Our Five Pillars do not include such actions. We are perhaps a religion more political than yours, at this time when Christianity has become less sure of itself. But, we do not condone these fanatics who would rob Islam of its belief in alms for the poor and Allah as the creator of all men." "The essential words," General Julien interjected. "Allah as the god of all men is Allah, the god of fundamentalism." "But, my friend, they do not represent our world, which would be at peace with yours. We do not seek jihad against the West. We only want to share its advantages with our people," Hassan said. The Moroccan king held out his upturned hands to encompass everyone. "If we were wrong to favor these men who have betrayed us, we will redress the wrong. You have our word." Katerinov moved forward in his seat, his wrists resting on the edge of the table. "The Arabs are a great people," he began, "but as with most great peoples, the Russians, the French, the Americans, they are not saints. All of us have at times been led, or driven, by men who have used our principles to violate our fundamental values. They have, all of them, lacked the spiritual understanding we require in the leaders of great cultures. Because of this, we have fought many times in the last century. Today, small men again threaten us by using our principles to manipulate and overwhelm us. We can stop them only if we join together, with the great powers once more in place to constrain political and religious outlaws. And, when we have agreed to act together, we will not tolerate deception. Do we understand one another?" The following silence reflected perhaps assent, perhaps shock, at the Russian president's forcefully frank words. "We do not expect blind compliance, nor will we use the psychological terrorism of the old superpower politics," President Katerinov continued. "We will not act without consultation and agreement, but there must be a time when individual agendas give way to universal needs. We will protect every Alliance member's traditions," he added, "but we will not continue to allow the world to destroy itself, enclave by enclave, while we watch, castrated by indecision." Hassan looked across the table at Alexei. He put his tea glass down and picked up an orange, and began to peel it. "We are not exactly the segments of this orange. We are more its skin, still slightly rough but worn almost smooth, holding together the segments. If that is what you mean by Alliance, we can agree. We have given you our word. You may depend on it. But, let us all remember that the world will not be better if the Alliance becomes a new tyranny of giants and for that, we need your word." "We have begun to work together to lay the trap for Raqqa. From this moment, Russia and America guarantee economic and technical assistance for Europe and Africa and the Middle East, as well as for the former Soviet Republics. In return, you must guarantee your opposition to all fundamentalist terrorism, unequivocally. No safe harbors, no excuses," Alexei said emphatically. "My country has learned through hard experience that human values cannot exist side by side with ruthless leaders who count success in material terms. You should have learned the same lesson by now. We must reassert our common human values while there is still time to defeat our common tormentors." Later in the same crucial day when Arabs and Christians had agreed to unite through their common interest, Kate and Alexei explained to General Gordon during a long telephone conversation the plan devised by the Moroccan king and his fellow Arab leaders. "When you go to Geneva tomorrow morning, Kate, evaluate the situation there and give us a report," her dad ordered. "A civil confrontation in western Europe isn't impossible." General Gordon's voice was tired and flat. Alexei offered to go to Geneva with Kate to announce the Alliance and its solutions in an effort to calm European nerves. "If we haven't trapped Raqqa before the Alliance announcement, we will leave the news about Arab participation out of the information," Alexei said. "Agreed," General Gordon answered, "get ready for an announcement in seventy-two hours. That ought to give us time to spring the trap around Raqqa. We can't let things go on as they are along the Mexican border for much longer if we expect to be able to control events. The terrorists just replace the dead bodies with live ones and stay ahead of us. I continue to be more worried about the long-range shelling from places twenty miles or more inside Mexico. They're hitting Brownsville and Laredo with 155's. We are destroying their artillery installations with missiles, to keep Miguel's engineers too busy to build tracks to support heavier artillery that would make it possible for Miguel to launch attacks on San Antonio and Houston and create a real war in Texas." "What about Stu?" Kate asked. "Has he come around?" "I suppose so," her father said. "He told me he couldn't stop making all the legal arguments against what we're doing. God knows, I understand. All of us have had bouts of nerves." Kate flushed, knowing she was just as guilty of misgivings as Stu. "I called us revolutionaries this morning when I was talking to General Julien, but the word traitor could just as easily have slipped out." "I've got a piece of advice for you and Stuart Wellford," Alexei said. "Don't think about anything but winning. If we win and if we really change the world, history will tell our story. If we lose, it won't matter what we thought about our effort." "President Katerinov, I could not agree more," General Gordon said. "Dad, let Pete Lowell write the Alliance announcement. He won't disappoint you. That way, I'll be able to concentrate on Europe and not worry about Stu's nerves." When the phone call ended, Alexei sat with his arm around Kate, stroking her hair. "You are not a traitor, my darling, not by any measure," he said. "We live in terrible times and the media makes it all visible, all the killing and suffering. Never forget that to try to lead the world away from viciousness isn't treachery. It is a grand battle, worthy of every talent we can bring to it. Don't let the form of law defeat you. Think of the morality of law as a tool to save us from ourselves. Trust yourself, Katharine." She lay her head on his shoulder and listened to his heart beating, a heart that had loved, suffered, endured meanness, and fought terrorism. Yet, with more reason to be cynical, he was the idealist, she thought. She, with her upper class extravagances and intellectual legal games, was more cynical. But, what laws would exist in the new world they were trying to create? This was the question that troubled her. What new law would save civilization from itself, as the old law had saved civilization for two thousand years. "Sweetheart," she said, trying to drive away the melancholy, "sometimes there are too many facets in the world's crystal and the light seems very diffused." He kissed her hand and covered it with his own, as he had done in the limousine on the snowy the afternoon when they left his dacha. "The world may be a crystal," he said, "but only men can give it light. Don't be defeated. Love me and help me to flood the world with light." • • The Alliance that had taken new shape at the table in the palace of the king of Morocco was woven of hope, frustration and common fear. The Arab world could not control its fanatic terrorists. America no longer believed it could end racism or live with its consequences. Russia feared the ethnic anarchy released after the death of the Soviet Union. Europe felt itself returning to the nightmare years. The allied air attack on Sicily had signaled the start of a flood of Italians moving north to avoid being caught in the confrontation with the Mafia and its terrorist partners, brought together by their common misuse of religion for money and power. Although the NATO air raids had served their purpose in a matter of hours, killing and scattering the African terrorists and halting their open debarcation in Sicily, Sicilian refugees continued to flood north toward Rome. The very idea of thousands of southern refugees descending on Rome destabilized the already fragile Italian government, sending its parliament into a frenzy of demands for aid, reparations and, most important, a reopening of Italy's northern borders to act as a pressure gauge to keep Italy from exploding. President DiCarlo returned to Rome to provide a command center in the crisis. The Pope was persuaded to stay in Paris, at least temporarily. If the terrorists retaliated, the Italian president was expendable. The Pope was not. The Italian demand for open borders frightened the rest of Europe, which was facing a simultaneous surge of refugees from the Baltics and other eastern European countries, fleeing to prevent being sandwiched between Europe and Russia in what they expected would be a violent confrontation. The taut nerves of Europe were coming unraveled and a headlong series of governmental border closings and roadblocks against refugees was thrown up in response to civilian demonstrations. Barricades and violent mobs halted refugee attempts to camp or put up shelters. Long-established foreigners were often routed along with refugees. Swiss, German and French airports were clogged with non-Europeans fleeing civilian violence directed against anyone who was not like them. At the prospect of being overrun by yet another wave of unwanted foreigners, the few years of European solidarity, represented by open borders and the concept of European citizenship, was concentrated into a common xenophobia of all that was not European. The United States experienced similar jolts. Southern Texas, New Mexico and Arizona were close to vigilante law. Mexican refugees walking north, most of them unarmed, were shot by gun-carrying bands openly encouraged by General Bennett and his Rangers, while lone marksmen roamed along dusty, isolated stretches of desert highway, shooting strangers from the windows of pick-up trucks. Miguel responded with intensified shelling of border towns. The American Army began picking off the terrorist sniper pockets one-by-one, but it was slow going and General Gordon felt central control slipping away, dissolving into the rough justice he had known would be the result of General Bennett's untethered response to Raqqa and Miguel.