Page 67 of Enemy of My Enemy
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Mixed Reactions on Both Sides of Atlantic to President Spiers’s Russian Investment Plan
President Spiers and President Puchkov’s joint announcement of a US-led investment plan to help the struggling Russian economy was met with mixed reactions from both nations. Some were quick to praise the two world leaders for working together and finding a solution that promises immediate results for both the Russian worker and the global economy. Others slammed President Spiers, saying that his friendship with the Russian president has gone too far.
“President Spiers has really shown his true colors here,” Senator Stephen Allen said in an interview with TNN. “He’s in bed with the Russians, and I say that figuratively, but maybe literally too. Who knows with this president? President Puchkov is certainly his political boyfriend. It’s the biggest case of a Manchurian Candidate I have ever seen. He’s pouring American interests into Russia, in exchange for nothing.”
Russian media was more favorable, with most Russians eager for stability in their economy. However, a large contingent of anti-Puchkov demonstrators continue to gain support from all areas of the Russian public. General Moroshkin, Commander of the Russian Armed Forces, loudly objected to the investment plan, stating that Russian problems could not be solved by American interference, but only through Russian innovation and determination. His comments garnered immense support among the Russian military and the hardline political establishments.
And, at the state dinner for President Puchkov hosted by the White House, President Spiers and President Puchkov made history by being the first same-sex world leaders to dance together.
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Chapter 25
White House
“Mr. President,we need you to come with us.”
He and Sergey were several hours into the strategy meeting with the investing business leaders and their CEOs when Irwin smoothly interrupted, crossing into the room and speaking privately in Jack’s ear. Looking up, Jack spotted Ethan at the door, looking grim.
He rose, making his excuses with a smile. Sergey didn’t buy it and cut off from his humorous retelling of a bear hunt in Siberia mid-word as he stared at Jack.
Ethan pulled him aside as he stepped out of the Roosevelt Room.
“What’s going on?”
“Rogue Islamic extremists have fired on two tankers in the Persian Gulf. They boarded one and took the crew hostage. The other is on fire. The attackers evaded capture and dumped mines into the water at the Strait of Hormuz.”
Jack closed his eyes as he propped his hands on his hips. In the list of terrible things that could happen to a president, anything affecting the Strait of Hormuz, the chokepoint for the Gulf in between Iran and Oman, was up near the top. Forty percent of the world’s oil transited the strait each day.
“Everyone is gathering in the Situation Room. Elizabeth is getting inundated with frantic calls from the Gulf countries. These terrorists are holding every nation there hostage.”
“Son of a bitch.” He glanced back inside the Roosevelt Room and met Sergey’s fierce stare. The meeting had ground to a halt with his departure, and Sergey wasn’t doing a damn thing to keep it going. “Damn it. I’m bringing Sergey down, too. The Russians are operating in the Gulf with us. He’ll have something to say about this.”
Ethan’s eyebrows rose. “People downstairs are going to shit.”
Jack chuffed out a tiny laugh. “Yeah, I’m good at getting that reaction out of people.” He waved to Sergey, drawing him out of the Roosevelt Room. As Sergey stood, Jack poked his head back in and apologized for having to cut the meeting short. Already, one of Jack’s aides was sweeping in, smoothly asking the CEOs if they’d like a private tour before a cocktail in one of the reception rooms. A soothing balm to being ditched by two presidents.
Sergey didn’t ask questions; he followed behind Jack and Ethan through the West Wing and down to the lower levels. Ethan waved off the Secret Service agents who stared at them with wide eyes and made moves to their microphones. Scott stood outside the Situation Room, and he looked Sergey up and down before stepping aside and holding the door open.
All conversation within the Situation Room stuttered to a stop when Jack entered with Sergey on his heels. He moved to the head of the table and stood behind his chair, gripping the headrest. Ethan took up his customary position on his right, sitting in the seat normally used by the vice president. Sergey stood on his left, and he whistled as he surveyed the room, taking in the array of flat-screens showing real-time satellite footage, live feeds from naval vessels in the Persian Gulf, news streams from all corners of the globe, and tracking updates of forces deployed around the world.
General Bradford, chairman of the joint chiefs, made the kill signal to the watch officers in the back, and the screen showing worldwide forces went dark.
Jack fixed General Bradford with a pointed glare. “Everyone, please welcome President Puchkov to the Situation Room. I’ve invited him down here since his forces are operating in tandem with ours in the Gulf. So, let’s hear it. Hit me.”
Eyeballs bounced around the room, the silence stretching on for a long, uncomfortable moment. Irwin finally broke the deadlock, clearing his throat first. “This statement was read aloud by the captain of the captured freighter a few minutes ago: ‘The Russian Federation and the United States have committed countless sins and must be punished. America’s disgusting president is a disgrace in the eyes of Allah. The unholy union between the Russian Federation and the United States of America must be stopped, and both nations must be destroyed. Their nations run on the blood of our lands, our precious oil. We will no longer allow any of our resources to service The Great Satan and her unholy partner, the Russian Federation. Any attempt to stop us will be met with deadly retribution.’”
Sergey dramatically rolled his eyes to the ceiling as Jack took over, steepling his fingers and leaning his forearms on the back of his chair. “Is this the Caliphate? Reprisal for our forces in the region?”
Bradford shook his head. “If they’re doing this in the Caliphate’s name, they haven’t said so yet. We broke their naval capabilities months ago and the Caliphate doesn’t have any good access to the Gulf at the moment.”
“So who are these guys?” Jack frowned.
“Still working on that, Mr. President. Our best guess at this time is rogue agents.”
“Or someone who wants us tobelievethis is the work of the Caliphate.” Ethan’s eyes caught Jack’s.
