Chapter 27
KHAMIS STARED at his reflection in the mirror as he adjusted his tie. Reflected in that same mirror he saw that the Intelligence Report bearing Alya’s name, that he’d carelessly left on his nightstand, was on the table by the sofa. He rushed over, removed the only remaining copy from where it lay and hurriedly locked it in the room’s safe while saying a quick prayer to Allah.
At least, Khamis thought, she did not try and hide the fact that she’d read it from him. After calming himself, he walked into the enormous closet that contained his clothing and where the White House Butler, Cecil, was waiting to give him a quick roller before his scheduled appearance in the Rose Garden. The Press had been gathered there and told to expect an important announcement.
His wife, Alya Bayat Mosaddegh, had been a very rich woman thanks to Iranian oil revenues. But, as she’d confessed, she had only the paltry sum of one million American dollars in her bank account. He’d had Betsy, his assistant check on the validity of her claim as soon as he’d gotten up this morning. The last time he’d checked, she had more than ten million dollars. He did not consider himself worth such a sacrifice; she had.
He walked into the closet where Cecil was waiting and extended his arms out to his sides. The adept butler slipped one of twenty similar black all-season wool jackets up onto his forearms and then shimmed it the rest of the way up onto his shoulders. Cecil quickly began rollering away any stray bits of lint that the forty plus cameras outside were sure to catch.
When Cecil was finished, making sure that the President looked presidential, he stepped back out of the way, and Khamis once again checked himself in the mirror. He gave Cecil the thumbs up before walking out of the closet and heading downstairs to the Oval Office.
Instead of taking the elevator that led to the secret door in the Oval Office, he opted to take the long way around and walk through the various hallways that led to his destination. That way, he could get a feel for how things were going. This morning, much to his dismay, there was a sense of nervous apprehension in the air. He shook it off and put a confident smile on his face. After all, he reminded himself, he was a ten million dollar man.
Waiting inside the Oval Office for him were Thomas Avery his Deputy National Security Advisor; Paul Moore, White House Press Secretary; Kent Smith, his Political Advisor; David Snyder, his Campaign Manager; and Alya. Everyone, except Alya rose when he entered.
“Are we ready,” Khamis asked to the grim faced attendees.
“We are, sir. But, as I advised you earlier this morning, Mr. President, you’re going to be a tough sell to a tough crowd,” added Kent Smith, his campaign manager.”
“If we’re all on the same page, and I hope we are, we can do this in spite of the hurdles.”
“Yes sir. We can and we will,” chimed in Paul Moore.
Khamis checked every face in the room for assurance that they were with him.
So, on a beautiful late fall afternoon Zakaria Khamis stepped through the bullet proof French doors leading from the Oval Office and made the short walk over to a podium that had been set up in the Rose Garden and began his announcement.
“Thank you. Thank you all for being here today. As you know, I’ve just returned from the International Peace Court where I put Russia and its allies – most of them Muslim countries – on trial for the January 3rd attack on this country. I know most of you feel that my being a Muslim is an insult to this country. But I hope that everything I’ve done since the January attacks have proven you wrong. And I will admit that even the Russian President, at those meetings, called me a traitor to Muslim causes, but I am an American first — as my birth certificate proves — and a Muslim second. And I want nothing but the best for this country. And I promise to work for the betterment and protection of this country.
Because of the extraordinary circumstances that landed me in the office of the President, it is necessary to hold an off year election. So, it is with a humble heart that I announce my candidacy for President of the United States of America.”
As Khamis spoke, the sparkling clear blue skies overhead grew dark. Giant gray nimbostratus clouds, heavy with rain rolled in from the east. Strong gusts of wind blew the words from Khamis’ mouth and toppled TV cameras that had been mounted high on blocks for better views. The angry gusts of wind snatched news briefs from the strong clutches of the TV reporters covering Khamis’ speech. Errant bit of paper swirled in the air and flipped end over end before landing amid the Helenium, Aster, and Iberis flowers of the Rose Garden.
Without regard for ceremony, the giant gray nimbostratus clouds opened up and released a deluge of cold rain and hail. The cold rain hit the hot camera lights and they immediately burst sending shards of glass spraying in all directions. The unprepared News reporters forgot about President Zhamis’ announcement and ran for whatever cover they could find.
Alya was completely morose as she watched the reporters scrambling for cover.
But Nobel Prize winner, Anatoly Bosov, watching Zhamis’ speech on Aljazeera TV, was absolutely delighted. The information he’d received from former President Daniels, via Youssef bin Caneer’s wife, had been on point. And his machine had worked as promised.
By
Eliza D. Ankum
Author of
Ruby Sanders – A Novel
Jared Anderson – The Ruby and Jared Saga Book 2
OneThreeThirteen – A Presidential Agent Novel Series
Dancing With The Fat Woman
Thou Shalt Eat Dust
A Woman’s Voice: Book of Poems
STALKED! By Voices
The Hunt For Red November 