The Last Jihad

by Rosenberg, Joel C.

  That didn’t mean she got to avoid the night shift, of course. It was, after all, the busiest and most productive time of day for the Magic Lantern team. But what did it matter? Despite her striking good looks, dazzling blue eyes, and feisty, infectious laugh, she hadn’t been out on a date since she’d first joined the @Home team. Working twelve to fourteen hours a day might have something to do with that, her roommates kept telling her. But the lack of a social life was getting old, and it just made her work all the more.

  But Carrie Downing now froze. Any trace of fatigue or self-pity suddenly and instantly evaporated. She stared at the freshly intercepted email, but had no idea what to do with it. She knew who’d received it. The target—Stuart Iverson, the U.S. Treasury Secretary, and his private AOL account—was one of sixty-three email accounts of top administration officials personally authorized by the FBI Director himself to be monitored. But it wasn’t Iverson per se that caught her attention. Not at the moment. It was the sender’s name that made her blood run cold.

  She quickly ran a trace and a systems check, then triple-checked her results. An involuntary shudder rippled through Downing’s body. Everything she’d been doing for the FBI had been fun and cool and clandestine—until now. This was different, and she knew it. She could feel her heart racing and the beads of perspiration forming on her upper lip. She quickly picked up the phone in front of her and speed-dialed the watch commander in the Counter-Terrorism Op Center downstairs.

  This one was hot—and way above her pay grade.

  The president lifted his head again and began to speak calmly and confidently.

  “All right. Hear me out. I’m not saying this is what we’re going to do. But try this on for size for a moment.”

  Bennett glanced at the monitor trained on Tucker Paine. He couldn’t help but feel for him. The man looked stricken. The president gathered his thoughts, and then continued.

  “Let’s say I call Prime Minister Doron back again when we’re done with this meeting. I refuse to acknowledge his request. I simply say that I’m calling to inform him that I am launching a massive air strike against Iraq immediately. Moreover, I tell him that based on rapidly developing and very disturbing new intelligence, the United States is immediately declaring war on Iraq. We will be unleashing the full fury of our military might on Saddam Hussein’s regime. And I tell him that in the course of the next few days, we may—I repeat, ‘may’—be forced to use one or more weapons of mass destruction against Iraq. Would his government and country support the United States if such a series of actions were to ensue?”

  Now Bob Corsetti broke in for the first time.

  “Right. Pledge war, but hedge on 100-percent commitment to going nuclear. Start an air campaign immediately. Bomb the hell out of Baghdad and Tikrit and send the 82nd into the western deserts of Iraq to hunt for any mobile Scud missile launchers. That will buy us time. If you need to go all the way, you can make that decision. Hopefully, that won’t be necessary. But in no way can we acknowledge that we’ve been asked by Israel to do this. If we do this, we’ll need to do it without Israeli fingerprints.”

  “Absolutely,” echoed Kirkpatrick. “But you have Jack or Burt or me—probably Jack—call Defense Minister Modine back immediately after the president’s call to the Israeli prime minister and personally insist that the Israelis neither strike first nor ever allow word of their commando action to leak out. And he can tell them we need the warhead in our possession in Washington by seven o’clock Eastern tonight.”

  Now the vice president jumped in.

  “Exactly. You address the nation at nine tonight. You explain that the United States has just foiled an Iraqi effort to launch a nuclear missile at the State of Israel. You announce that you consider such an act an attack against the United States of America. You explain that our actions to date have wiped out most of the world’s terrorist cells. But you help people understand that this has moved beyond a war on terrorists, that the government of Iraq has declared war on us and put us in existential danger. You tell the world our forces—no, ‘American-made Apaches’—went in and took out an Iraqi Scud team and captured this warhead. You show photographs to the world, explain the Iraqi biological, chemical, and nuclear threat, and explain that if decisive action is not taken immediately, no one will be safe from Saddam Hussein’s weapons of mass destruction.”

  “Then, Mr. President,” added Kirkpatrick, “you declare war. You say that the ‘full and courageous forces of freedom will prevail against the cowardly forces of evil’ and that Americans and ‘all freedom-loving people the world over must now prepare for the darkest moment in our history as a civilization.’ You prepare people for what we’re going to do, and why, and you ask them to pray with you and for our armed forces during this moment of grave national peril.”

  “Then you end,” Corsetti added, “by telling the Iraqis, ‘May God have mercy on your souls. For we will have none.’”

  “No,” said the president, raising his hand in opposition to Corsetti’s remark. “We’re not going to end on a note of vengeance, however well deserved.”

  “Mr. President, I…”

  “No, Bob, I know what you mean. But the answer is no. Look, I need to lay out the case against Iraq. It will be clear and concise and convincing. But we also need to start talking about a new case, a case for peace and prosperity, beginning in the Middle East. Not in the speech tonight. But among ourselves, and with the Israelis and Palestinians.”

  “Sir, what are you talking about?” asked Secretary Paine.

  “I’m talking about a post-Saddam world. I’m talking about ending the threat of war and violence in the Middle East once and for all. I’m talking about bringing the Israelis and Palestinians together here at the White House. I’m talking about a peace treaty and the oil deal Bennett’s been working on. Why? To allow every single Jew and every single Arab to personally profit and prosper if they agree to live together in peace. To offer the world a future and a hope, plans for good and not for evil.”

  A wave of intense anxiety mixed with gnawing curiosity washed over everyone, including Secretary Paine. They were fast running out of time, and they didn’t quite know where the president was headed.

  “OK, I know time is limited—but follow me here for a few moments,” the president continued. “We need an endgame, right? OK. So think about it. If the world is about to live through a nightmare, let’s be ready to offer it a dream as well. The dream of true Arab-Israeli peace—not because they all will love each other but because the price of war is too high, and the profits of peace are too lucrative.”

  “What would that mean, sir?” pressed Paine.

  “Well, here’s what I’m thinking…”

  The president paused a moment to sip some water and clarify his thoughts.

  “The moment the war with Iraq is over, we immediately begin working with the Israelis and Palestinians to turn Medexco into a publicly traded company. Officers of the company will be rich beyond their wildest dreams. But we basically insist that every Israeli and Palestinian be given shares in the company from the beginning, from the IPO.”

  “The way Thatcher did in Britain,” Bennett interjected, fortunately without being shot down by Kirkpatrick or anyone else.

  “Sort of,” replied the president. “Every Israeli and Palestinian would own shares of the company. The Joshua Fund would supply the billion dollars in venture capital. That deal’s already done. All the Joshua Fund investors retain their shares—but by going public, Israelis and Palestinians could become instantly, miraculously wealthy.”

  “You’re really talking about coopting Bennett’s deal?” asked Kirkpatrick.

  “Absolutely,” said the president. “You’ve all been briefed on the basic details, right?”

  “We have, sir,” responded Kirkpatrick. “But I’m not sure how it applies here, sir.”

  Bennett’s heart was racing and his mind was whirling. But he felt clearer than ever in his life. The president glance
d at him and smiled, then continued.

  “Most people have no idea what the Israelis and Palestinians are sitting on in terms of oil and gas. That may include some of you, even if you’ve read the file. But it’s unreal, almost unimaginable. At first we thought it was just natural gas. But last year they discovered oil. Unbelievable amounts of oil. To put it in context, you need to compare it with Saudi Arabia, which of course is the world’s largest oil producer, with about a quarter of the world’s known petroleum reserves. The Saudis pump about eight and half million barrels a day, right? So when oil is between twenty-five and thirty dollars a barrel, they gross well over two hundred million dollars a day—nearly eighty to ninety billion dollars a year, at current prices. Now Bennett and McCoy and their team believe that once all the drilling and refinery equipment is in place and everything is running at full speed, Medexco could rapidly become one of the largest petroleum companies in the world. It could eventually pump between five and six million barrels a day, grossing—conservatively—about fifty to sixty billion dollars a year, just from raw oil and gas sales alone, to say nothing of all the other refined products and retail sales they could have.”

  “There’s really that much oil and gas there?” asked the vice president.

  “There is,” said the president. “In fact, when you factor in all the other potential products and sources of revenue for which we—well, not me anymore—for which GSX and the Joshua Fund have developed a detailed business plan, Medexco could, before too long, do gross annual sales of somewhere on the order of $180 billion to $220 billion a year.”

  “That’s more than Israel’s entire GDP right now,” noted the VP.

  “That’s right. That’s the magnitude we’re talking about. Israel’s GDP is about $120 billion a year at the moment. This oil deal would absolutely change everything. And that’s not all. All this would make Medexco one of the largest oil companies in the world, on the order of, say, ExxonMobil, which does about a quarter of a trillion dollars a year in gross sales.”

  “The company will be worth a bloody fortune,” Secretary Paine gasped, previously unclear about what Bennett had been cooking up.

  “Now, of course,” continued MacPherson, “all of these figures were best-case scenarios based on low-intensity violence in the region, but no war. Obviously, these massive oil and gas drilling platforms and refinery facilities would be incredibly vulnerable to attack, making the investment practically worthless to most investors if the region were to see continually aggressive terrorism or plunge into a war.”

  “That’s how Bennett got in so cheap?” asked the VP.

  Bennett looked back at the president, who nodded assent for him to speak.

  “That’s true, sir,” said Bennett. “Remember John D. Rockefeller’s little investment in Standard Oil back in 1862? He invested just $4,000 at the time. But seven years later…”

  “…he owned about ninety percent of the company,” finished the VP, “and was sitting on a gold mine.”

  “Exactly,” said Bennett. “And the rest is history. That’s why GSX so strongly recommended that the Joshua Fund invest a billion dollars in this project immediately. Because few others would take the risk in such an environment. Now, of course, if we had peace…”

  “You mean if Iraq was essentially eliminated from the face of the planet,” Secretary Paine corrected.

  Bennett refused to take the bait.

  “…if we had peace—real peace, lasting peace of some sort—all these calculations become moot, or conservative at best. The real value of the company could be many times higher, virtually overnight.”

  “Where would you go from there?” asked the VP.

  Bennett looked back for guidance, but the president didn’t stop him.

  “My sense is that we’d be able to leverage our initial investment into an IPO and raise hundreds of billions of dollars in capital to complete all the necessary facilities much faster than expected. We’d see the creation of huge shipping ports in Gaza. We’d see the Egyptians involved very quickly. I imagine they’d be interested in building huge refineries in the Sinai desert.”

  “What about Jordan?” asked Paine.

  “I think Jordan’s going to absolutely love this,” said Bennett, smiling. “Erin?”

  “Absolutely,” McCoy jumped in. “Jon and I war-gamed this out. We believe the Jordanians could either invest in Medexco directly—or build refinery facilities and the like on their own land—or, Jon and I think more likely, they’d move quickly to develop high-end housing communities, resorts, golf courses. Their competitive advantage is they’ve got land and space and a good workforce. You put some serious capital in that country and look out. Our projection is that Gaza, the West Bank, and the Sinai would likely become the new Saudi Arabias, focusing on the actual drilling, refining, and industrial development of the petroleum. We believe Israel would become the new Silicon Valley and Switzerland of the region, emerging as one of the world’s great high-tech, banking, financial services and health-care capitals. Jordan, we suspect, could become the Palm Springs or Phoenix of the region—you know, tourists, trade, resorts, luxury spas…”

  “A world of Biltmores and Ritz-Carltons?” asked the VP.

  “Something like that,” McCoy agreed.

  Now MacPherson stepped back into the conversation.

  “The opportunities would be extraordinary,” said the president. “Israel and any Palestinian entity or state that emerged from a final peace negotiation could both potentially become wealthier and more powerful economically than most of the other OPEC countries—combined.”

  Bennett noticed the Secretary of State, among others, was clearly intrigued by what he was hearing.

  “And a publicly traded Medexco,” Bennett interjected, “with the vast majority of shares held, at least initially, by Israeli and Palestinian citizens—unless they chose to sell off—would be a godsend to the people there, particularly Arab families, many of whom are absolutely destitute and poverty-stricken.

  “Best guess, Jon?” asked the president.

  Bennett turned to McCoy.

  “Erin?”

  “Mr. President, our projections suggest that every Israeli and Palestinian could, one year from an IPO, be holding stock worth somewhere between a half a million and a million dollars per family.”

  “Are you serious?” asked the vice president.

  “A couple of years from now,” McCoy added, “if things stay peaceful and on track—and if people keep their stocks rather than sell out after the IPO and the subsequent holding period—they could very well be sitting on several multiples of that.”

  “Just to put it in perspective,” Bennett added, “the average Palestinian family today earns less than $1,500 a year. We’d be turning most of them into multimillionaires essentially overnight.”

  “Unbelievable,” remarked Kirkpatrick, rapidly calculating the cost-benefit analysis as well. “The incentives for peace—real peace, lasting peace, a secure peace—would be extraordinary.”

  “What are the implications for the U.S. in your estimation, Jon?” asked the VP.

  “Well, sir, I think I’d better defer to the president on that,” Bennett said, turning to MacPherson.

  “Thanks, Jon,” said the president, already formulating his reply. “I guess, Bill, what I’d say is that this could seriously jump-start the global economy and avoid the total collapse in consumer and investor confidence we could see soon if we don’t move decisively on a series of fronts. I’d say that the pure psychic shock of neutralizing the planet’s greatest evil, and then—in fairly short order—announcing the discovery and development of oil and gas in the Holy Land, followed by a major peace treaty ceremony on the South Lawn of the White House, would absolutely electrify investors and consumers all over the world. Suddenly, anything and everything would seem possible. Peace and prosperity would be seen as the defining charter of the new millennium. I think consumer confidence would come roaring back instantly. It could be u
nlike anything we’ve ever seen before.”

  “Or not,” added Mitchell.

  “Right,” agreed the president. “Or not. We have one opportunity to make all this work. If we get it right, the rest of the world will have a chance to get it right. But if we blow it, we and the rest of the world will be in very, very serious trouble.”

  Everyone now contemplated the enormity of the decisions about to be made. But clearly the mood and momentum were changing dramatically.

  “Now, obviously, I could be totally wrong about this,” the president added. “But, you know, my gut instincts have served me well over the years.”

  “So they have, Mr. President,” said the VP.

  “But, sir,” interrupted Secretary Paine. “We are still talking about having to use nuclear weapons to achieve all this.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Then, Mr. President, I must repeat once again that it is not worth it. I beg you. I implore you. Please don’t do this.”

  “Mr. Secretary, I hear what you’re saying. I do.”

  “How can you even begin to consider incinerating several million souls with the push of a button, in the blink of an eye? We cannot become the barbarians we’ve been forced to fight. The end never justifies the means. Never. That was the lesson of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. That was the lesson of Vietnam. And that was the lesson of the Soviet experience in Afghanistan. My God, how can you…”

  “Mr. Secretary, that’s absolutely not true,” the president shot back, firmly but fiercely. “That is not true. It just isn’t. The lesson of Vietnam was never fight a just war—a war against an Evil Empire and its proxies who seek to enslave mankind—unless you intend to win. The lesson of Afghanistan was don’t fight a war you have no business winning. And the lesson of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Mr. Secretary, was that a president must never—never—flinch from using any and all means necessary to prevent the wholesale slaughter of American citizens and our allies.”