“There are many critics of the United States, in Europe and elsewhere, who say that America has it easy and that Americans are naive. Let me put the record straight. They’re wrong. Over the course of American history thousands of our citizens have shed their blood in the name of freedom and peace on foreign soil, defending the freedoms of others. Americans aren’t naive. We know that peace is a better option than war. And it’s not an option for any country to bury its head in the sand and hope for peace while tyrants and terrorists kill innocent people out of hatred and greed. No. We will do whatever it takes to bring about lasting peace to the world.”
The television screen switched to a live picture of the American flag waving over ground zero in New York City, then returned to the Oval Office. “With the decisions I have just announced the United States is not running away from a fight with the terrorists and the bullies who want war for their own political and financial gain. On the contrary we are stepping up the fight with weapons more effective than bombs or bullets. The economic power of self-reliance and accountability.”
“Peace in the Middle East cannot be imposed from without. We’ve seen that policy fail for the past 50 years. Peaceful coexistence must be a result of mutual commitments from within. That is why we have made these decisions to drastically reduce the amount of foreign aid. By stopping the handouts we are urging the nations of the Middle East to take control of their own destiny, an intertwined destiny of mutual interdependence. I am asking all nations in the Middle East to once and for all make peace their highest priority.”
President Pierce picked up the tin cup that had been with him through POW camp, on the campaign trail and into the Oval Office. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have work to do for the American people and the world.” Slowly he tapped his cup on his desk, making a metallic sound, “Good Night, God Bless America, and may all the citizens of the globe live in peace and prosperity for many years to come.”
As the picture of the President slowly faded away, replaced by a waving American flag, the sound of the little tin cup could still be heard.
***
CNN Headline News
“What you and I have just witnessed, ladies and gentlemen, is one of the most extraordinary speeches from any world leader in recent memory,” said the senior CNN newscaster. “If what he has told us really comes about then President Roswell Clayton Pierce, in a selfless act of personal and political courage, has not only made the decisions everyone else has been avoiding but has also gotten the leaders of the Middle East, especially Israel, to agree to them. What went on behind the scenes to bring about this unprecedented level of international cooperation we may never know. But on this my colleagues and I all agree. It must have been an extraordinary and heroic act of diplomacy.”
The veteran newscaster cocked his head, intently listening to his earpiece. After a few moments of silence, a broad smile crossed his face. He looked directly into the camera. “I have just received word that in various cities and towns across the US as well as in Europe and the Middle East people everywhere are spilling out of their homes and banging on pots and pans in support of the President’s new policy. I probably don’t have to tell you, you can hear it for yourself. Just open your windows.”
Scenes from cities across the United States began flashing onto the screen as people collected in parks, town squares, restaurants, baseball stadiums, anywhere they could gather and celebrate a new day with the sound of metal banging on metal. As the crowds swelled the noise grew; a veritable symphony of homemade cymbals.
The newscaster came back on again. “I wonder if anyone, anywhere, is listening to this broadcast anymore?” he said with a wry smile. “It appears the whole world is out in the streets banging pots and pans in support of an unprecedented bid for lasting peace.”
Chapter Sixteen
The Oval Office
“What’s your name, young man?” said the President of the United States to the young black man standing before him, wearing a suit and tie, his shoes polished to a high shine.
“William Jefferson Clinton, sir, but the guys just call me Jeff.”
“Well,” said President Pierce, laughing. “Would you mind if I called you Jeff as well? One Bill Clinton around here is enough for me.”
“No, sir.”
“Now Jeff, I want you to know that I appreciate very much what you did to help Dr. Richards here the other night, even though it got you in a lot of trouble with the Secret Service, the Metro Police, and more importantly, your mother.”
“Yeah, she was mad as a-”
“Hush, boy,” the heavyset woman whispered, knuckling him in the backside. Then she flashed her host a smile. “I was just acting like any concerned mother, Mr. President.”
“Mrs. Clinton, I want you to know that your son is a true patriot and that because of his courage and commitment the world is a much safer place. You should be proud of your son.”
“Oh, he’s a great boy, Mr. President and he works hard as a waiter at the Key Bridge Marriott Hotel. I only wish he could get into a trade school or something where he’d have a chance to earn a decent living and make something of himself.”
“What trade are you interested in, Jeff?”
“Believe it or not I’ve always wanted to work on the railroad, maybe as a conductor or even drive the trains someday.”
“I’ll see what we can do.” President Pierce thanked the young man and his mother. After the photographer took several pictures of young William Jefferson Clinton and the President and before the marine guard escorted them out of the Oval Office and on to their private tour of the White House Jeff looked at Matt. “Sure wish my girlfriend could have seen this.”
“The one you know so well?” Matt said, straight faced. He was rewarded with a street smile from Jeff and a frown from Mrs. Clinton.
President Pierce sat down behind his desk. He picked up his battered tin cup then looked at Matt, Nicole and Elijah.
“I know this would make the story of a lifetime, Ms. Delacluse. But I’m going to ask you to sign an affidavit swearing that you’ll never reveal the events of the past several days. By the way I’ve just been in communication with your former boss at the International Herald Tribune. He says you’re a royal pain in the ass. That’s a direct quote by the way. But he’ll hire you back as soon as you’re ready and able.”
“I appreciate your support and assistance, Mr. President,” Nicole said, reaching out and taking Matt’s hand, “but I think I’ve got a better offer.”
“Okay, I get the picture. But what about you Dr. Richards? As you know I need a new personal physician, at least for the next two years that I’m in office. Interested?”
“Under normal circumstances, Mr. President, it would be an honor. But I must respectfully decline. First I’ve got a little trip to take to Nassau and then I’d like to get rid of this face. It’s not so bad, but sharing features with an international assassin is definitely a liability. Dr. Weissman has agreed to perform the operation. In a few months’ time I hope to look like someone vaguely resembling the old Matt Richards. But as a result of what I’ve learned these past few weeks I will never be the same. Someone once said looks can be deceiving and in this case they will be absolutely right.”
President Pierce watched him. “I know about your little trip to the Bahamas. I’ll have the FBI escort you personally there and back, just in case. After you get your old identity back where will you be headed?”
“We’re both going to join Esperanca,” Matt said. “The medical group that runs a surgical boat on the Amazon River. I spoke with my father at length the other night and he’s going to join us as well. My roommate in Beirut, Samir Hussein, used to say, ‘The purpose of man is to be of service to mankind.’ There’s plenty of need for a good surgeon, make that two good surgeons, on the Amazon.” Matt paused. “Can I ask you a question, Mr. President?”
“Fire away.”
“What happened to Kelly Stevens? Is she all right?”
/> “Ms. Stevens and her mother have moved to London where she’ll begin her new career at the U.S. embassy as an assistant in the publications department. With the love and support of her mother I’d say she’ll be just fine.”
“And who killed Brian Walker, Dr. Martin Thomas and Anne-Marie Khoury?”
“We have evidence, strictly off the record, that it was a person working directly for Mohammed al Nagib by the name of Demetrie Antonopolis. He was ordered to eliminate people from your Beirut days who might be able to place al Nagib and William Fisher together.”
“I knew him from my Beirut days. He was always smoking hashish and living a fast life,” said Matt.
“His days of fast living are definitely over,” said the President. “He was found dead in a market near Union Station. Something else off the record. We used a little creativity and convinced the Israelis that their ambassador to the United States was using an international assassin to kill people here in the United States. As a result I was able to put, shall we say, a considerable amount of pressure on the government of Israel to support my peace initiatives.”
“Did you say a well-known international assassin?” Matt’s eyes widened. “You blackmailed the Israelis? They wanted to use me, with my new face, to hunt down the terrorist cell and you made it look as if they were running an assassination plot on U.S. soil…”
“The fact that they bribed Senator Stevens, spied on my council meetings, and were in cahoots with al Nagib gave me additional leverage,” the President said dryly. “At any rate an assassin did infiltrate the White House-so it wasn’t a complete lie.”
“And what about Mohammed al Nagib?” asked Eli.
President Pierce crossed over to the window to admire the roses as the buds were breaking. “All I can tell you is the world will never again have to be concerned about Mr. Nagib or his three partners.” He looked back at Matt. “I trust that is all we need to say.”
“Word among the community is that several focused ‘wet jobs’ took place on the families of recent suicide bombers,” Elijah said, looking at Dr. Finch.
“A few of our actions had an extraordinary affect on helping to reduce the threat of terrorism around the globe,” said the President. The director of the CIA nodded.
***
CNN Headline News
“As tight-lipped as ever, President Roswell Clayton Pierce is giving no hints as to how he was able to orchestrate the extraordinary events that have culminated in his dramatic bid for a lasting peace in the Middle East and an end to terrorism. The remarkable concessions on the part of Israel and the Arab countries in the Middle East have brought about a completely different dynamic in the region. Peace is definitely in the air, with Jews and Muslims working together to make certain that peace endures.”
The senior newscaster smiled into the camera then continued with the major news stories of the day. “Citing ill health and depression following the death of his only child U.S. Senator Mason T. Stevens of Virginia, chairman of the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, has announced his retirement, effective immediately. Upon learning of Senator Stevens’ retirement President Pierce described him as ‘a man of strong character and a tenacious supporter of the American dream.’
“In a related story, we have also learned that Mrs. Stevens has just filed divorce papers citing irreconcilable differences between herself and her husband. Mrs. Stevens has left the United States and is now living in London.
“On the international front CNN correspondents in South America have just received word that suspected Hezbollah terrorist training camps in the tri-border region of Brazil, Paraguay and Argentina have been devastated by forest fires of unknown origin. The camps, rumored to be one of the main spawning grounds for international terrorists and suicide bombers have until recently been hidden away in a remote section of the dense Amazon jungle. Sketchy reports from that remote region confirm that over seven major terrorist training camps, as well as mining and logging camps owned by the Brazilian millionaire Jorge Molinas have been destroyed, reportedly by natural fires set off by unseasonably dry weather conditions and violent lightning storms.
“And we have additional news from the Middle East this evening,” the newscaster went on. “The Israeli ambassador to the United States, General Ibrahim Barak, was found dead earlier today in his home in Tel Aviv. After he was recalled to Israel following President Pierce’s peace initiative announcements the ambassador’s wife said he had been complaining of headaches and dizziness for the past several days. According to the ambulance crew who arrived on the scene General Barak accidentally tripped down a flight of stairs in his home and broke his neck. He was pronounced dead at the scene.”
***
The Tonight Show
The music had stopped, the clapping subsided, and the venerable host walked out to face the live audience. It was time for the opening monologue where nothing was off limits. For the next fifteen minutes, every public figure, politician, movie star and world leader was fair game. As usual, the live audience was well primed.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the host began, “as you know I usually use this segment to poke fun at our elected officials, especially the President of the United States. What can I say? I have an irreverent streak.
“But this evening I don’t have a prepared monologue. The times are too extraordinary and the mood of the world is for the first time that I can remember in my lifetime, optimistic. I sat in my office all day thinking about what to say this evening. And, if you can believe this, for the first time in my life I couldn’t find the right words. There are times when words fail to describe the significance of an event. One such time was December 7, 1941. Another was November, 22, 1963, the day John F. Kennedy was assassinated. And another, September 11.
“Then there was the other night. As I watched the speech by President Roswell Pierce I knew that day would rank right up there as one of the most important days in the history of the United States and the world.
“I have made fun of President Pierce for the past two years not because I dislike the man but because it’s my job. But tonight I’m not going to poke fun at anyone.
“As you know it was easy to get Bill Clinton on the show. But President Roswell Clayton Pierce has proven much more elusive. Since I can’t get the man himself I’ve got his alter ego instead.” Reaching into his suit coat pocket the famous host of the Tonight Show pulled out a small tin cup and held it up for the audience and the nation to see.
Slowly he walked over to his desk and began to gently tap the little tin cup up and down. As if on cue the audience clapped, keeping measured time with the sounds coming from the tin cup ringing out from the desk up on the stage.
Looking into the camera his words rang out clearly. “Well done, Mr. President. Well done.”
***
Beirut, two weeks later
Rue Bliss, once ravaged by decades of civil war, was once again paved smooth and brightly lit. Boisterous crowds made their way towards the many restaurants, dodging the taxis and shiny new cars.
“It’s lovely to see this ancient city booming again, isn’t it Helmut?”
“I only wish our coffers were as robust and full of life. I fear we won’t see the robust sales of weapons and explosives we had hoped for since our plan was discovered.” Helmut Hofer stepped up onto the sidewalk, quickly following his friend and lifelong partner.
“Then it is good that we have many plans.” Mohammed al Nagib, his large girth draped in a long white kaftan walked leisurely down the street. His long black cane tapped rhythmically. Amber worry beads clicked as his fingers moved them back and forth. He nodded as several elderly men greeted him in passing.
“But why come back here to Beirut?” Herr Hofer looked around nervously. “I’m a little uncomfortable being out in the open like this. Especially after what happened to Jorge in Brazil.”
“We are perfectly safe in this city, my friend. I’m not normally one to brag but I practically own this town.
At least all the important and most expensive properties. Not to mention influential government officials.”
“And we do own a bank here as well.” His Swiss companion relaxed a little. “So what’s the big surprise? What have you got planned?”
They continued down the street. Ten thirty and another night of vibrant social activity was about to begin in the city once known as the Paris of the Middle East. At the bottom of the street, the cliffs of Ras Beirut overlooked the dark Mediterranean. A small restaurant stood at the very edge. Red and yellow bougainvillea flowers covered a rooftop terrace.
“The place looks empty. Are you sure it’s open?”
“Of course it’s open. For us that is. I own this little gem. Some of the best mezzas and seafood in all of Beirut. I bought it in the late 60’s. There was an unexplained explosion that destroyed the former cafe and the old man who owned it didn’t have the heart or the money to rebuild. It’s been an excellent investment as well as a very private meeting place.” Mohammad al Nagib laughed. “And the irony is so perfect.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Just a private moment. Now to quench your curiosity we are having dinner tonight with one of my best placed informers. A top person in the NSA. I’ve done numerous favors for him over the years. And of course he has reciprocated.”
“I never cease to be amazed at your capabilities, my friend.” The Swiss banker began to feel more confident with each step. “I assume you have another plan that will continue to increase our profits?”
“The best and boldest yet. Now I am starving and since we have the entire restaurant and staff to ourselves tonight I suggest we quicken the pace. Our guest is undoubtedly waiting inside. And we are right on time.”
Parked cars lined both sides of the busy street. Traffic honked at numerous groups of people crossing and entering the many upscale restaurants lining Rue Bliss. Several new Mercedes taxis stopped to let off diners for the evening. Mohammad al Nagib and Helmut Hofer negotiated a break in the traffic and briskly stepped up onto the sidewalk in front of the quiet, brilliantly lit restaurant. A blue neon sign glowed over the large double doors. Restaurant Bliss.
The Beirut Conspiracy Page 28
