Bjjonesmylife. Book 2

Friday morning was another early morning breakfast with the Emir Bello. The Secret Service brought him to White House at 0600. I was sitting at my desk in the Oval Office discussing the Saudi agreement with General Ingram.
An advance team from the Air Force would arrive in a few days from our airbase in Ad Dammam. At one look the map at the base at Ad Dammam made one question the necessity of adding another base in the area. But to have armor and infantry so close to Iran made a lot of sense. Plus to be able to land thousands of troops in C17s and C5s that close was an ace in the hole for operations – if and when it came to that.
I closed my folders, placed them in the pile on my desk and walked the Emir Bello back to the map room. On the wall was a map of Africa that had all the publicly known US bases in Africa marked. The secret were missing as were the ones that were conditional use or temporary.
The reasoning for this direction was to gain another Doppler radar site and listening post in the eastern central Africa to close a gap. If our sales pitch was successful, it would complete the circle to give the DOD total surveillance of the entire Atlantic Ocean from the Arctic to the Antarctica.
The Doppler radar system coupled with submerged ocean listening buoys would box in the Russians in the Atlantic – in the air, on the sea and underwater. If they moved, we would know it. It was the same thing they were trying to do to the US with Cuba, Venezuela and in the Arctic Ocean.
It was lunch when we finished – not only had I negotiated for the Doppler radar but the deep water port of Lagos was now approved as a port of call for the US Navy and for Naval support services when necessary. The International Airport was now open for Air Force transport planes – that was normally always a touchy subject with many countries.
Lunch was a state dinner, the last for Emir Bello with invited guests. After lunch there was a news conference and then the Emir was flying home. He had arrived on a commercial flight but was going to be carried back on a private flight.
I offered to have one of the Air Force executive jets but he was afraid that it would create political problems. One of the JBG business jets was arriving at Andrews to make the flight to Nigeria. It was one more conflict of interest in the eyes of some. The Emir and his group were happy and thankful.
The week was gone and there were so many thing I had put on the back burner, so many meetings I put off by being in Europe and then devoting so much time working on Nigeria contracts.
I was going home for the weekend. The rock fish – the Maryland State fish – also known as the striped bass were making their early run in the bay. Marine One had us on the island in thirty minutes.
The new family fishing boat that we had designed and had built at a Baltimore boat yard was picked up by Dad, Jason and Jake while we were in Europe.
It was bigger than most party boats that worked out of the commercial dock at the narrows. A party boat took dozens of fishermen and fishing parties for a daily fee. The commercial captains used a variety of tools to follow the schools of fish and the hot spots to keep customers happy and coming back.
Our boat was seventy feet long and sixteen feet wide. It had an enclosed half cabin with a full potty. It wouldn’t look very good for us to hang our butt off the side and take a leak – easy for men, not so much for us. There were three small beds to rest on and for the kids to nap on forward. There were two small refrigerators, a small stove, a beer cooler and a table for meals.
The top bow section of the cabin was flat with all kinds of railings so we could sunbath it on if we wanted. It had built in bait boxes in the back with rod pipes across the stern and down the port and starboard sides.
With twin seven hundred horsepower Cats to push it thirty knots, radar and an enclosed cockpit, it was an all-weather family boat.
We had the channel dredged behind the house and a dock built for it last year after we ordered it. We had steel sheeting driven along our property and around the pond that was at the end and our neighbor’s property to end the erosion requiring it to be dredged every few years.
There was no more waiting at the boat launch in line on good fishing days. Jason, Dad, Jake and we could just throw the lines, start the engines and go. No more excuses not to go fishing or out on the bay just for a relaxing pleasure cruise.
Dad, Jake and Jason had done the outfitting after it was docked behind the house with life jackets, floatable devices, two inflatable life boats, flares, beer, rods and supplies. Friday night they brought more beer and coolers, ice, and snacks. They also brought the boat licenses and all the required papers to keep us legal.
I told the senior agent at 2200 that we were going fishing tomorrow morning at 0500; I didn’t want them to have too much time to complain. I also told the chef I wanted breakfast sandwiches ready to go at 0500 and gave him a list for cold subs for lunch.
At 0515 the engines were running and warming up as we climbed aboard. We had us six girls and two boys with Dad, Jason, Jake, Mindy, six agents, Ziva and Abra plus the two White House photographers and the two with the suitcase. It took twenty minutes to run the creek to get into the waters of the bay.
In the bay, Jason headed south down the bay. The marine radio traffic from the commercial guys were saying the hot spot was off Cambridge and was producing a lot of fish today.
It was thirty miles – an hour’s run in this boat – as Jason pushed the engines to full throttle.
Just past St Michaels Jason pulled the throttles back and headed to the south west.
”There is a hole in about a mile that is usually good when the fish are moving north. The commercial guys save it for when nothing else works for their paying customers,” Jason said as he slowed more and turned on the fish finders and fine tuned the depth finder to its most sensitive settings.
The rest of us followed Dad’s lead and began cutting bait and rigging hooks on the boat rods. The engines went to idle and the transmission disengaged.
”We are going to drift over the spot – lines in the water,” Jason said.
A few minutes later the first fish was brought aboard. Maryland required that in order to keep them, they had to be between twenty eight and thirty eight inches or over forty four with a limit of two fish each. The first fish was pulled in by an agent and measured fifty inches – a whopper!
Jenny helped RJ and I worked with JJ – there was no way they could do it by themselves – but with extra hands on the rod to help, they could enjoy the thrill.
The first drift across the hole produced twenty fish that met the rules. Ten more had to be thrown back. The second drift produced fifteen with five thrown back.
RJ hooked a whopper and with Jenny’s help landed a forty six inch rock fish; much taller than and as heavy as he was. A few minutes JJ had his big fish; nearly as big but lacking only half an inch.
It took four drifts over the hole and moving to follow the school before we had the limit. Everyone had their two fish limit – family, agents, photographers and the ball carriers – including me with one forty six and one forty eight.
Make no mistake, reeling in big fish is work – real work – plus keeping the lines from getting tangled with other ones on the boat. With the rods and hooks secured it was time for the food we had brought and of course a beer.
We headed back to the narrows as a leisurely clip of ten knots. Eating, talking and having a good time – the subs we had from the kitchen were just right. Jason and Dad were both on the bridge piloting the course.
We were within sight of Kent Point – the most southern tip of Kent Island – when a when a Coast Guard MR-B medium response boat that was headed south at good speed made a turn and powered up to fall in behind us and turning on the lights and siren.
Jason was cussing under his breath, ”First fishing trip on the bay and the Coast Guard shows for an inspection.”
The Secret Service agents shuffled me into the cabin as we slowed to a stop and began drifting with the tide. They pulled the MR-B alongside and cast it a line since we were the bigger of the two boats.
They checked the boat paperwork, the licenses to make sure Jason had a captain license to be able pilot a boat with all the people aboard and the boat fishing licenses. Then they checked all the safety equipment and the condition of all the life preservers and their expiration dates, the fire extinguishers, and the flares. Yes, they still required a flare gun and a throwable flotation device.
They wanted to see the engine room to inspect for oil or fuel leaks that could foul the bay. They could write citations if they found any and depending on the severity, it could be a serious fine.
The access to the engine room was a hatch near the cabin. After inspecting the engine room the inspecting officer opened the door to the cabin, looked around and closed the door. I was sitting at the table facing the officer. He nodded and went about his task.
They gave Jason an inspection sticker to place in the window, tossed the line and left. It was supposed to prevent you from being stopped and inspected again unless there was obvious trouble. It was so small another boat was unlikely see it until after they had cast the line to you. Once that happened you were going to get inspected again no matter what.
We had a good laugh about it as they pulled away. They would get a good ass chewing on Monday. First, for not telling their superiors they had stopped and inspected the President’s boat with her on board. Then for not recognizing the President and saluting – the Coast Guard had the same rules as the Navy.
Their bosses would find out in a few hours as soon as the media filed the reports about today’s clandestine fishing trip. The Coast Guard inspection was sure to make the news cast.
The media would demand a copy of the inspection report from the brass to see if any favors or shortcuts had been extended.
We continued on to the commercial dock to get fuel while the fish were cleaned. We could do it ourselves but why bother for a few dollars. Besides, the waste would be used for bait or ground up in chum; another form of bait for shark fishing.
Back at the house it was resting time. The boys conked out on the couch as soon as they were on it. Salt air and fishing will do that to you.
While the girls were showering, the Secret Service agents gave me today’s agency top secret reports.
The first one on top today was on Russia; it was twenty pages long. China was a runner up with ten pages and then the rest.
Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.

The Beast carried us to Blair House where they were getting ready to start. Vice President Harrison was just giving the opening toast. I stood in the door and waited until he was finished before I took my place and offered another toast.
”We lift our glasses to welcome our friend Emir Akram Bello to our great nation, to build a relationship that will last an eternity. A relationship built on trust, commerce between our two countries, enduring prosperity and good will and to work for mutual security.”
The evening was a relaxed social event. Everyone seemed to enjoy the evening. I talked with the Emir over an hour. He wanted an early start because of the time change. I invited him to join me for an early breakfast.
The real work would start tomorrow. It was 2100 when the affair closed down for the night.
I went to my desk in the Oval Office; the girls and the boys had turned in as soon as we landed as the jet lag had proven just too much. My desk was neat and orderly with piles tagged with their importance. I took the most important pile and read for an hour, adding questions and thoughts in the margins. I crawled into bed with Jenny and Marcy. Lorrie had Sara in the bed with her tonight; she must have been fussy.
I was up at 0500 – the Emir was to be here at 0600 for the early breakfast.
The breakfast was a working breakfast. Over coffee I was filled in on the present day Nigeria’s problems and its problems with its neighbors. Then there was the growing problems with Boko-Haram. I had gained a lot of knowledge about the area.
I learned even more about the relationship with China and its foreign aid package to Nigeria. As usual with China, it was a leveraged package. China – with nearly slave rates for Chinese labor – but billed at western rates would do infrastructure improvements in exchange for raw materials.
As time went on the only infrastructure projects that were completed were those that benefited exporting the raw materials. The Logos marine terminal was updated to handle mining, mineral ore containing rare earth minerals and shipping container traffic.
A bridge on the main highway and highway repairs to the ore fields and oilfields were quickly completed. Other promised projects in the package were started but quickly stalled. Chinese workers disappeared, equipment was moved from the projects to the ore and oil fields and only returned after much pressure – or not at all.
The relationship soured with the Chinese officials, with excuses flowing like the oil and minerals to the docks. If that wasn’t bad enough, records stopped or came up short.
It is not rocket science to figure out how much oil and ore were loaded on tankers and freighters. Their capacity is public record with Lloyds of London and the International Shipping Agency. The ISA tracks ships on the ocean to be able to schedule port stops and ships that go missing in storm. Ships positions at sea are reported daily. It was easy work to get the numbers complied without Chinese help.
The contracts were expiring and Emir Bello was refusing to renew them even after pressure, promises and threats from China. It was the Chinese that had insisted on an initial short term contract and not an open ended one – for whatever reason no one knew – but it worked to Nigeria’s advantage.
At 0800 we met the rest of the Emir’s group in the lobby on our way to the Oval Office, but first I directed the group to the office that I had converted into the map room.
Today in it was an eight foot by ten foot table with a map of Nigeria with all the important places marked out. The projects that had been finished or started by the Chinese construction company were marked. The path of Boko-Haram was also mapped.
There was a box of map markers I had borrowed from the DOD; they were large thimbles with different colored flags on them. They could be placed on the map to indicate bridges and other projects Emir Bello wanted to talk about.
With a couple of breaks it was 1100 when we got down to the serious things. There were several small bridges and miles of roadway that were immediate concerns.
”The day after the Chinese leave, the Army Corps of Engineers will be there to do site preparation and geological surveys necessary for sound construction and dependable roadbeds,” I said.
”Equipment will start arriving immediately after and trainers to train your work force. We will provide the equipment, training, supervision and engineering,” I said.
”As we agreed earlier, your men will supply the labor and your country will supply the materials. You and we get more of everything for the money that is being invested,” I added.
”Also we will pay going market rates for any minerals or oil that are extracted – with correct accounting,” I said.
”Why do you need to bring new equipment and not use the Chinese supplied equipment?” the Emir asked.
”I fully expect it to be destroyed or sabotaged beyond repair,” I said.
”Yes, you are probably right,” he said.
By then it was time for another photo session and a fancy lunch. I ate light – a salad and soup – and entered into light conversation with the new group that was going to oversee my new foreign aid programs.
After lunch we started on the security end of our discussion. Vicky and Andy along with Frank Love had the first meetings With Emir Bello to discuss the future role the CIA and JBG would play in fighting Boko-Haram. This was done at the CIA head quarters at Langley Virginia. I could not be part of that meeting although I would get a report in a couple days.
When the Emir came back, General Ingram and I discussed whether there would be a US military presence in Nigeria. The General wanted one but I was unsure how the discussion would go.
At 1700 we ended the discussions for the day. At 1900 it was my turn to host the State dinner for the Emir, his group and selected VIPs. My invitees were the State Department, a few select Senators, Representatives, their wives and a few other guests.
At 2000 the night ended with the Emit going back to Blair House. My evening was not over; I needed to go back to my desk to handle several issues.
One was to put the agreement with King Eluad into the works. It needed to go to the DOD first, to the joint chiefs who needed to approve the war games. I had a big sell ahead of me – a lot of people would need convincing. Then on to the planners and schedulers for cargo ships to carry the trucks and tanks that needed to be sent.
Then plan for what to do with the air base; we had access to it again. A team needed to be flown in to evaluate it. The Air Force used the base during the Kuwait-Iraq war. It had been placed into a reserve status by the Saudi’s at the end of the war.
It was temporarily reopened as an emergency field for B52 bombers in the Afghan war. As trouble began to escalate between Saudi Arabia and the Somalia rebels, the Saudi’s had spruced up, repaired runways and rebuilt hangars for their own use, all before the price of oil plummeted – reducing their discretionary cash supplies .
The next thing in the agreement was that King Eluad had agreed to allow a US destroyer to make a port call on July the forth to the port of Manama. Manama was above the imaginary line of ‘No American military ships allowed in the Persian Gulf’ by Iran.
This was one of the demands that Iran required to be met to release the hostages taken during the Carter administration. Carter agreed to it and withdrew the ships only to see the demands increase and get laughed at.
No President since had sent ships that far up the gulf since with one exception, and that was during the Kuwait war. Iran agreed to allow an amphibious force to sail to the shores of Kuwait as a diversion. Several of the battleships refurbished under Reagan’s three hundred and fifty ship goal were part of the force.
It was the last hurrah for the old battleships as the Navy immediately took them out of service with plans to scrap them so they would never come back again. They did end up as museum ships.
To further make sure they would never come back, all the tooling to produce replacement barrels for them was sold for scrap in the mid-2010s and in 2017 the thousands of shells for the big guns were destroyed, deleting them from the reserve weapons depot. The Navy cut ten feet off the barrels of the museum ships – with the exception of the Missouri and the New Jersey.
They didn’t fit the Admiral’s vision of the modern Navy, even though the Marines wanted to keep them in reserve for amphibious operations. It was carrier’s planes or expensive missiles if we ever had to make amphibious landings.
The heavy guns were being eliminated off all new ships being built. Instead of being able to send nearly a thousand five inch shells to the target, the new destroyers could launch a hundred missiles.
The Zumwalt class was the last destroyer to have a heavy gun. It was designed to fire a sabot round that had an extended range at a heavy cost of a million dollars a round. It was so expensive the navy stopped all gunnery training and tried to develop conventional rounds for the 155 mm caliber. They finally gave up on finding a use for the ship. At seven billion a copy, it was a big lemon.
I had visions of several destroyers sailing into Manama with flags and pennants flowing in the wing to piss off the Iranians even more. Hopefully it would be enough to cause them to rush their plans and get them off stride.
Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.

My family wanted to go out for supper to the inn, although I would have rather have had the time at home with them. But they had talked about this all week for this time together.
As usual we were well protected. The Beast number two was on hand – it was now a fixture in the parking garage. The Secret Service had commandeered four bays and had block walls and garage doors installed. A dozen Secret Service Suburbans were in the line.
The griping and complaining from the Secret Service had ended after our first visit to the inn, when they found out they were to eat steak, crab and lobster with us. It was just an East shore thing; I treated them as family.
Marcy had rented the largest room at the inn. My family and I were seated at one table near the wall while agents were at tables away from us and at the door. We were able to carry out reasonably private conversations.
At home I sent the agents to their respective places – out of our living quarters. Contractors had finished expanding the kitchen out the west wall of the house over objections of the county planning and zoning.
It took a visit from a senior DHS official and two federal marshals to convince them they had the authority to make changes to our house for security, without the delay of permits and inspections.
Not only did the agents have fresh hot coffee, there were chefs on duty twenty-four seven to fix meals for them and us when we wanted. That required a big walk-in freezer and walk-in refrigerator; no wonder planning had a fit.
Bob’s Construction did the emergency work. I made sure that Marcy paid for all the work and equipment. The last thing I needed was the liberal media bloodhounds on the trail of – in their eyes – questionable expenses. The pundits would make days of prime time rubbish every chance they could.
The hot tub, cold drinks and family was a fantastic stress reliever. We had no plans to be separated this weekend. All of them were going to with me to Saturday night’s fund raiser at Topeka Kansas.
On Monday Lorrie, Sara, Jenny, the boys and Marcy were coming over with me. I was not coming back for home until Monday morning. Then on Wednesday they were swapping with Ching Lee, Takeo and Vicky who were staying until Friday when all of them would join me again.
The night was fun, affectionate and loving. All my mates joined in – it was in the wee hours of the morning before we went to sleep.
Two little boys crawling on the bed were my alarm clock. They were hungry and then wanted to go to Fort Smith to find some more brass shell casings. Truthfully, I wanted to go there to make sure things were being kept up.
Hot coffee was waiting and breakfast was soon on our plates. I read the updates handed to me by agents between coffee and food.
Iran was still conducting their massive military exercises; all US installations and troops in the Middle East were up one alert level. The Generals and State Department thought that was all that was necessary. The CIA satellites were trying to watch everything in close-up living color to see what we could learn.
Frank Love and Art Cummins wanted a MTAC ASAP. I walked through the tunnel to the command center with a couple agents. I wondered how past Presidents handled these types of communications without a communications center and a wide screen? I would hate to think I would be left to do it with only a phone.
The Boko-Haram was on the move towards the villages in the direction we thought they would go. The CIA wanted authorization to hit the group with drone strikes.
The Predator and Reaper drones had been replaced with the Gladiator and Maximus – shortened to Max. They were more of everything.
The plan they decided on was to coordinate with the JBG team, hit the terrorists with the drones and then allow the JBG team to conduct cleanup operations with JBG aviation support. I called Andy and Vicky on a conference call before I approved the clandestine mission.
Many would die today on my orders, it was not the first time nor would it be the last. I pushed the thought from my mind and went to rejoin my family and start with our plans for the day.
With Ziva, Abra and a couple agents we spent two hours at Fort Smith. The boys were running around the live fire designated areas picking up casings; by now they should have had a bucket full.
While they did that I walked and checked out things. When they were finished we walked together to the jail and interrogation rooms behind it. By looking at the equipment I could see it had been used often since I was there last.
Vicky, Ching Lee and possibly Andy were continuing interrogations, if they were necessary. I wondered if they were using the chipper or the Doc Burns crematorium. I hoped it was the crematorium; there was a lot less chance of any usable DNA left. The cells where the Iranians had been kept were cleaned and unused.
Back at the house I did something I had not done in weeks; I helped the girls clean the house.
Air Force One was already waiting at Morton when the Beast drove through the gate. All my family was going; Mom, Dad, my mates and my two little men. Takeo and Sara were too little to attend the fundraiser but were staying on Air Force One with a sitter while we were there.
The fund raiser was another barn burner. Excited people filled the place. They were looking for a leader for the next eight years to continue the prosperity. I could see the hopes in their faces and hear it in the voices of the big donors.
We were back at Morton at 2400; it had been a long day, but overall a fun day.
A few more days and April would be in the history books. The G20 conference would finish it out.
Sunday was laid back. I read the intelligence reports before breakfast. Breakfast was nice – in my own dining room with my immediate family.
The White House camera people and the clerks who logged every word I said were out of luck unless they were called in to document something in particular. My entire house and JBG offices were off limits to them. That was until someone in Congress decided I wasn’t complying with the Records Preservation Act enough to suit them.
We worked at getting things ready for the trip to Amsterdam late Sunday afternoon. I had to make sure I had enough high end pant suit outfits to attend all the fancy affairs.
There were meetings and photo ops at every turn. Then there were the lavish meals that were photo ops again.
The State Department people had spent days arguing about the agenda for the various committees. My place on them had already been fixed; I was to replace President Thomas. Part of my reading materials had been his position on matters before the G20 members. I needed to make sure any decision I made was in line somewhat with previous agreements and not a radical departure, other than the funding cuts to the world agencies.
All that was nothing compared to the fiasco with the seating order for the photo ops, and heaven forbid – the seating order for the fancy meals. I didn’t know seating at the meal table could start international conflicts.
My staff and the State Department people were on Air Force One when it landed at Morton to pick Lorrie, Jenny, Marcy, the boys, Sara and me with my security detail. It only took a few minutes to load up the baggage and fill the fuel tanks for the long flight.
The 747 can take off with full tanks but cannot land with nearly full tanks. Should an emergency occur there are provisions to dump a lot of fuel quickly. Altitude is important when this happens so the fuel can evaporate before it hits the ground and cause damage.
It was a long flight to the Netherlands; thirty eight hundred miles in seven hours. We had left at four and landed at midnight Eastern, but with the time change it was 2000. It took another hour to get checked into the five star Waldorf Astoria for the evening.
The Secret Service had a complete floor for my group. My mates and I had adjoining rooms with a walk-through door between them. The two boys could each have a bed and there was a crib for Sara. The other room had two king beds that my mates and I could share.
The breakfast was at 0700 and the first meeting was at 0900. Getting to the meeting venue was a fiasco, demonstrators were everywhere. Thousands of police lined the routes to keep them from blocking the roads. There were burning tires on the sidewalks and destroyed barricades in piles.
Thousands of the demonstrators were hiding behind masks and parkas, afraid to be seen, so they could commit crimes without fear of being identified. They were left- wing and Anarchist groups.
The G20 was nineteen countries plus the EU. The EU was represented by the European commission and the European Central Bank. There were invitees who were permanent guests; the UN, the World Bank, the World Trade Organization, the African Union, the Association of South East Asian Nations, International Monetary Fund and International Labor and Financial Stability Board.
The President’s term lasted one year and he could invite one or two guests from his region.
`The meetings started off cordial enough with a welcoming speech by the G20 President and then statements by the charter members. The guests gave no opening speeches.
Many of the main topics on growth and free trade were already hammered out by flunkies from all the departments from each country.
The arguments came in voting funding for the UN. It hit a brick wall when I announced that the US was reducing funding for the UN and a list of groups, including the financial aid to multiple agencies associated with it. The arguments lasted until lunch.
Lunch was another photo op and musical chairs – everybody wanted to sit beside me for the pictures and bend my ear about the cuts. I held my own, countering every argument every time.
World problem discussions took up the afternoon. There was an extended break then another photo op with a lavish meal for supper, complete with an orchestra to sooth shattered nerves from the day’s discussions.
Back in the motel room I did a VCATS with home and then an MTAC with Washington. The CIA had a lengthy report from the Nigeria operation that took place today in cooperation with the JBG forces there.
The messengers that were captured confirmed our suspicions that Iran was funding the Boko-Haram in the area. Not only funding but sending trainers and technical people. Iran had just lost some more people – another bad day for them.
Tiam and the General confirmed through repeated radio requests and then through open channel attempts to contact their people.
The General was pissed again when the word came that JBG was responsible for the demise of his trainers and experts in Nigeria – again. Tiam posted a two page letter the next day from the General. It was fire and brimstone, urging the followers to take up arms against all JBG personnel with special purpose worldwide.
He raised the bounty on my mates – this time adding our children.
The third morning after breakfast – the final day – there was social time before adjournment and a final photo op. Saudi King El Damon Elaud made his way over to my table. He was the king who broke all the traditions when I signed the contracts for the fast ships for the OPEC group.
The waiters had just cleared away the dishes. I was working on the daily intelligence reports with a couple aides.
He waived off his accompanying detail as I stood to shake his hand. I waved mine away as well and then we sat at the table.
”I see that you have upset our mutual enemies – again,” he said with a broad smile. Evidently his intelligence was working – as I suspected it would be.
”Every chance I get, I rub more salt into the wound,” I said.
”To irritate the wound a little more and prepare for the eventual issue, I would like to pre-position several hundred tanks and trucks in your country.”
”We can announce that we are preparing to hold joint desert armor and infantry in the sand war games training – say in August,” I said.
I knew that ever since Kuwait and the beginning salvos in the Iraq war, Iran had been adamant that there be no infantry or armor from any nation other than token amounts based on pre-Kuwait agreements and no military ships in the upper Persian Gulf.
”That sounds like an old mixture my father’s men used in the dungeon – salt, sand, acid and a wire brush. I think it will have the same result. I like it a lot,” he said.
”I think we should write the agreement now so that there is no mistake in our intentions, before the pencil pushers distort our intent,” I said.
”I agree,” he said.
Thirty minutes later there were two copies – one in English and one in Arabic – both signed.
Four hundred M2A2A battle tanks and two hundred fourth generation MRAPs along with two hundred JLTV – Joint Light Tactical Vehicle – would arrive in June at a new temporary US military base at Al Qaysumah, just five miles from the Kuwait border and less than one hundred miles from Iran. They were going to be pissed!
Al Qaysumah was home to a Saudi armored division and a now little used Saudi airbase – they were going to train with the US armored division. The air base was built for American bombers during the Cold War.
The hour we were talking and writing was closely watched. Security kept anyone from getting too close and they were all trying. They were all curious what the hell was taking place – especially Russian President Orbatch. Putin had mysteriously died in his sleep two years ago.
Orbatch was struggling to keep Russia together after the death of Putin. The member states had had enough of being plundered with thousands disappearing in the dark of the night. Their oil and gas production had collapsed from no maintenance – the same was true with their mining industry. Equipment was abandoned all over Siberia.
Putin had tried to build new aircraft carriers – at least for show – to counter the influence and prestige of the Chinese. Four new nuclear carriers were ordered. To prove the productivity of the Russian ship yards they tried to copy the Newport News Ship Building model. Two new carriers went to sea trials together.
Four months into the trials one carrier disappeared in a massive nuclear explosion, its sister a mile away was all but obliterated in the blast but did stay afloat – on fire – for a month while drifting helplessly towards Norway,
After removing the sailors who were left alive, it took Russian destroyers a week to sink it with torpedoes.
With no answers as to the explosion, the work on the other two carriers was halted. They lost two one hundred thousand ton carriers that were estimated to cost twenty billion each. Twelve thousand sailors, and over two hundred of the latest planes plus six escorting frigates and destroyers destroyed or sunk was just too much.
Russian morale plummeted and head hunters were out in force. While they tried to investigate, there was nothing left of the carrier to find but molten metal and the bow and stern sections of the keel.
Our nuclear experts believed that Russian nuclear weapons had the same problems as some of our older weapons. The insulating material separating the components had deteriorated. The rocking of the bombs on the ship in rough water caused the materials to mix and in the process triggered the implosion that started fission.
The photo op ended and an hour later the wheels of Air Force One left the runway and we flew west. The wind was against us; it was going to take an hour longer to get home.
Instead of landing at Morton we needed to land at Andrews or I was not going to make the state dinner for the Emir of Nigeria in time.
Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.

Thursday I spent some of the day in meetings, reviewing the California and Washington martial law orders and the progress. Progress was being made but entrenched liberals were doing everything they could to create roadblocks.
Planning and zoning rules that had been used to stop low income housing for decades were being purged along with the planners who were still digging in their heels.
The generals had purged four thousand administrators in California that had taken immovable positions for refusing to accept or implement the changes. The outcome was that thousands of new housing permits and permits for low income developments had been approved.
One well known tech billionaire pledged one billion dollars to the construction fund. He was also advocating other Silicon Valley billionaires do the same. The homeless battle was going to be won – one affordable housing development at a time.
Another result was criminal laws under martial law were being enforced to the letter. Shoplifting that had been rampant by and with organized gangs had stopped. Under the old system they had to steal over seven hundred and fifty dollars’ worth to be arrested. The new system – any amount was enough to go behind bars.
The military judges had no sympathy. When individuals were arrested now they were held instead of being released. The downside – the jails were filling up quickly.
But California was slowly being normalized. It was now safe to walk the streets in San Francisco without being accosted by drug addicts and the homeless. The rioted areas had been cleaned of debris and rebuilding had started.
As with all things it took loans, grants and property tax cuts to motivate the property owners. That was easy to understand after being burned out four times in the last four years. There was growing confidence that it wasn’t going to happen anymore. When there was confidence, banks and businesses were more willing to take a chance.
As expected the powerful unions were filing lawsuits to regain their control of the government. Those unions were going to get a wakeup call from the Justice Department very soon.
Investigators were nearly finished going through the state and politician financial records, plus the politicians in Gitmo had decided it was time to start singing like a canary if it would help reduce jail time. Union officials were soon going to get served with warrants containing hundreds of charges with bribes, payoffs, intimidation and threats against family – and those were only the beginning.
By lunchtime I was done listening, or at least I thought I was – only to be found by Dick James with a large folder.
The Emirs advance team had delivered the general topics they wanted to discuss during his visit starting on Thursday of next week. This was going to be a new area for me. Usually I followed some else’s lead with an outline to follow. Now I had to develop the outline for others to follow.
The result was an intense planning session with Secretary James, General Ingram and others in a full blown cabinet session. I was going outside precedent established boundaries on foreign aid and develop my own. In the process I was going to piss off the UN world soon enough. Ever since the Obama administration, foreign aid needed to be funneled through and coordinated with the UN.
When I signed the budget I ordered a freeze on all payments to the United Nations. Those payments were made through the State Department and part of the State Department budget. It wasn’t enough that we were paying the lion’s share of their operating budget – three times as much as China and twice as much as Russia.
But under the Obama administration during his great apology tours, he had agreed to fund many separate agencies through special grants and grants from the executive – for the lack of a better term – slush fund.
Every time the President promised money for some particular reason that was not coming from ‘say’ disaster relief funds or the agriculture department funds, it came from his discretionary budget. Billions of dollars were allocated in the budget for the fund – same as there were billions in the Congressional slush funds.
It was money that simply went under the table and over the dam to be spent with little public accountability. The Congress was never going to challenge the President’s money because their own fund ran the risk of being exposed. All state and federal agencies and departments ran a slush fund in their budgets. That is why the last month of the year they went on a spending spree – to make sure it was used so it would be replaced in next year’s budget.
Obama ordered funds from his slush fund to be given to the UN as well as money from the State Department, the USDA, NASA, NOAA, the transportation department, even the DOD was on the hook to give funds to the UN under all kinds of peace keeping agreements. Once started, that type of funding always continued.
According to my researchers it added up to seventy five billion above the public disclosed amount we gave to the operating budget.
Two days after I signed the budget, the UN treasurer called and asked when they could expect to receive the funds. He already knew I had frozen them including the operating funds. He also knew US laws regarding our budget and its dispersal as well as anyone.
We received no information on what or where the UN directed funds were spent even when we asked in writing. There was zero accountability from the UN, other than they were always short of money.
China – one of the largest economies in the world – had just received billions in no interest loans from the UN development agency for infrastructure improvements.
China had over a Trillion dollars in cash reserves – they never should have gotten any loans from the UN. It should have been reserved for countries that truly needed infrastructure funding.
When asked, the development agency refused to discuss the issue. There was no accountability and the UN was out of control.
But they did have money to hold massive meetings all over the world – France, Germany, Tokyo, Australia and Africa – with hundreds and sometimes thousands of UN employees as attendees, all expenses paid.
The US was always bashed for one thing or another, the list would take dozens of pages. There had always been anti-American countries in the UN but now they were organized to eliminate the power and influence of the US.
Organized into three groups: Russia and the bloc they controlled, China and the bloc they controlled and the Muslim bloc. Together they voted against anything the US tried to do and did, if all three were together on the issue.
The result was many committee chairs were from one of the three groups. Even violently oppressive countries delegates were in control of human rights, development, aid, health and many other committees.
When my cabinet meeting finished today, the die would be cast. Not only was the UN getting cut, so was the international monetary fund, payments to the world bank, payments to the international carbon fund eliminated and several more. Let the crying begin.
I was to go to the G20 meeting in Amsterdam during next week and I would inform the world in my speech. We would expand our own international aid program by direct programs where there would be accountability.
We could follow and track the progress of projects and keep their cost within budgets. I envisioned far better results with our foreign aid dollars.
The decision of our withdrawal from the UN in such a way would be like putting a penny on the railroad track. No longer recognizable but destroyed.
I felt sure that Russia and China would not pony up funding to cover the cuts.
Friday started out with a working breakfast with invited leaders of the House and Senate, both conservative and liberal. House and Senate party leaders, Foreign Affairs, House and Senate intelligence committees, House and Senate armed services, committees and finance committees. My staff was there as was General Ingram and State Department Secretary Dean.
The breakfast went fine and after the dished were cleared and hot coffee poured, I reminded them that the following conversation was now classified.
”I informed them of my decision to cut all funding for the UN to the level of an average of the China and Russian dues and the reasons why. I also delivered the message we were withdrawing from the IMF and the World Bank. Those three things consumed over three hundred billion dollars of our budget last year,” I said.
”There is no accountability and much of the funds we send them are sent to violent dictators and countries that counter decades of our foreign policy and our national interest. It is time for change in how we dole out foreign aid funds and international development funds. Our national interests are far better served by doing it ourselves,” I said.
”Many of you know that on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday I will be at the G20 meeting. What you don’t know is that the Emir of Nigeria Akram Bello will make a State visit next Wednesday evening, Thursday and Friday. ”
”The discussions will cover foreign aid for infrastructure development, industrial training and possible trade agreements and whatever else we can openly discuss, along with possibly expanding anti-terrorism agreements. As you know, Boko-Haram is getting active in the area.”
”This will be the first under the new aid programs and policy. I am looking to assemble an oversight and advisory committee – management team from select members of the House and Senate. Those of you that want to be on the board can submit your names or the names of other qualified individuals. It is a work in progress,” I said.
I had learned how to play the political game. Just making them think they had a part to play in the process added smiles across the room.
”Secretary Dean is putting together the state dinner for Wednesday evening. Some of you will be on the guest list. I plan to be back in time to make the opening toast,” I said.
”Nigeria will be our first foreign aid program under the new plan, changing twenty years of bad policy and failures,” I said.
The general conversation lasted until lunch. After lunch I had a meeting with the presidents of one hundred energy giants and utilities in the country.
I thought it would be a simple informative meeting but instead I got an earful and a verbal beating about the Federal Energy Commission, the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, the National Energy Cooperative Association and the Federal Utilities Regulatory Commission.
I wasn’t prepared nor apparently was my staff. I felt betrayed and like a fool. I didn’t know these agencies were so out of date, micro-managed, poorly run and also run with an immovable iron fist by their governing boards.
They had their presentation planned out with a spokesperson for each segment of the industry. They knew they had an opportunity to vent their frustrations to someone who just might make changes without worrying about political repercussions and had the balls to do so.
The meeting was filmed and recorded. That was a good thing as there was no way a clerk could take shorthand that fast.
Finally when they had finished and I had a chance to make a statement, ”Wow – is the best I can say. I didn’t know these agencies were run in such a fashion and so unresponsive to the needs of the public and producers.”
”I think the best way to sort all of this out is to meet with each group of you independently and get a better vision of the facts. I am assuming you have supporting documentation that I can drag someone’s ass into the fire with.”
”I have international meetings for the next two weeks. Troy can schedule a full day with each group after that before you leave here today. I will look into corrective solutions, especially if it is in the public interest. I look forward to getting results that are needed,” I said.
I was glad the day was nearly over! I was looking for a beer and stress relief in the gym at home.
The Secret Service was already packed and many had already left for Summers Road. I pulled my portable office to the step of Marine One, saluted the officers and climbed aboard.
Thirty minutes later I was giving my mates and the boys the first hugs in a week on the tarmac at Morton. The Secret Service refused to allow Marine One to land in the big over flow parking lot behind the office parking garage, even though President Thomas had done so several times.
Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read By Bob W.

Right out of the gate, Tuesday morning started off with a bang. The Boxer and the JBG ships had seized four fishing scows in the Indian Ocean near the Yemen Oman border. They were flying Pakistan flags while dragging fishing nets.
They were acting suspiciously and maneuvering too erratically to be fishing and also had no dingy in the water tending the nets.
All four were stopped after requiring shots to be fired over the bow. An inspection revealed that the holds were filled with Iranian weapons destined for Kismaayo Somalia. They were loaded at the Pakistani port at Karachi.
The captain and crews had been stopped before for transporting contraband and turned over to the Pakistani authorities. Apparently as soon as the smoke cleared the boats and crews were released, accomplishing nothing but wasting time and effort.
Thousands of rounds of ammo were destined for the ocean floor. There were new AK47s by the thousands and various machine guns, rocket propelled grenades by the hundreds and cases of IEDs of the same manufacture as those used in Iraq and Afghanistan against American soldiers. There were shoulder fired antiaircraft missiles by the hundreds. This was a major weapons bust.
The Boxer had called the Chief of Naval Operations for guidance. The Chief of Naval Operations forwarded the call to the joint chiefs.
General Ingram was standing in front of my desk wanting guidance. This was no man’s land; damn if you do and a damn if you don’t. I couldn’t order the Navy to do what needed to be done. Sending them back to Pakistan was useless.
I waved the General to close the door and take a seat next to me. I opened my JBG computer and loaded the three thumb drives and then opened a VCATS with Andy.
”Somehow I knew I would be getting a call from you today. I guess you have been updated on the four Pakistan fishing boats,” he said.
”Yes, unfortunately this is the second time for the boats and more for the crews carrying contraband. Pakistan is apparently using a version of the New York catch and release program. We need to do it differently this time,” I said.
”I assume you have some men there that can follow orders no matter how distasteful they are?” I asked.
”Absolutely,” Andy replied.
”I don’t trust this open channel from here. I’m going to send you encrypted orders. Stay on the line, I want to verify that you have received and understand them,” I said.
”Send your men to the four fishing boats. When they arrive the Boxer and the JBG boats assigned to the Boxer are going to get orders to leave the area at flank speed. Tie the crews of the fishing party securely to the boats. I do not want any bodies floating. Use explosive charges to sink the boats. A speedy operation is a must.”
I looked at the General, ”Any objections?” I asked.
”None what so ever,” he replied.
I clicked the encrypt key and send key. We then watched him open the orders.
”Orders are understood. They will be carried out immediately. I will also order executive protocol number one including the helmet cams, along with the Shultz and Clinton directives,” Andy replied.
”Excellent idea,” I said and closed the screen.
”May I ask what executive protocol number one is and about those other two?” the General asked.
”Executive protocol number one; no cameras, no cell phone pictures, the go pro cameras are to be removed and placed in the ammo box.”
”The Shultz directive is a quote from Sergeant Shultz of the Hogan Hero’s fame, ‘I see nothing, I saw nothing, I know nothing’.”
”The Clinton directive – I don’t remember. I don’t recall that, I can’t remember. It’s from her testimony before Congress,” I said.
”Are there more?” General Ingram asked.
”It is a small book with only a few pages,” I said.
”How do I get one?” he asked.
”When you retire and go to work for JBG,” I said.
”I don’t think I could take the pay cut,” he said.
”I doubt you would be taking a pay cut,” I replied.
”Starting pay for your experience and world knowledge would be ten thousand a week,” I said. I knew his pay was fifteen thousand a month. Trouble was, as a lobbyist for one of the military industrial complex companies they would pay ten times that amount just to get his inside connections.
My cell pinged, ”Orders have been sent ships departing in minutes,” Andy’s text said.
”I will personally call to the Commander of the Boxer to issue the orders to make sure they are understood,” the General said.
I was leaving in a couple hours for another fund raiser – this one in South Dakota. Adam had sent the speech earlier and after a run through and changes, I was satisfied. There was still snow on the ground; the boys would have liked it. But oh well, it was going to be extremely late when I got back.
As my staff were packing up the things I needed to take with me tonight, General Ingram came in and handed me a note.
”Your ships have returned to base,” he said.
”I received confirmation that the orders were carried out a while ago. Some new souls are sleeping with the fishes tonight. The only contraband they will transport from now on will be at Davy Jones locker,” I said.
Air Force One left Andrews at 1600 for the flight to Sioux Falls. Even with horrible weather, the college arena was packed. They were a lively crowd filled with energy and enthusiasm. I pumped them up with statistics and called for eight more years of conservative control.
The chants continued even after I stepped behind the curtain. Finally I stepped back to the podium – thumping on the podium. I had no speech to give so it was off the cuff.
I talked about the state of the economy and how the opposition party was wanting to destroy our great prosperity and growth with substantially higher taxes on everything and everyone. Their mode of operation was if you made more money, government deserved twice as much. If you had anything, government deserved it.
Government needed it to fund enormous social programs for illegal immigrants and people who wanted to attend college forever for free. They were people who were lazy and thought the government should support them forever.
I had an answer for all the politicians wanting to give free college. For every year you served in the active military forces, you get one year of earned college education at an average cost college for free. There would be a limit of eight years – the time it took to complete a medical degree.
Forty minutes later I walked off the stage – again – after rousing chants and a thunderous ovation.
Wednesday morning started off a lot better. The Senate was voting on the nomination of Clyde Barrow to replace the Secretary of Agriculture whom I had fired. The position had been empty long enough without a permanent Secretary.
So far all my nominees had been approved, including Caroline Brady for the Supreme Court. In the last few weeks I had nominated sixty names to fill lower federal judgeships that were vacant. I would see how the successful I was in the next few weeks.
At the security meeting the CIA had an update from their embedded agents with the JBG teams in Nigeria. The group had grown by fifty members and had started moving north west. There were two medium size villages in that direction.
The analyst theorized that they going to raid the villages one at a time to draft new recruits to replace dead fighters and collect all the valuables. They would also capture women and girls to sell as slaves to Iranian, Afghanistan, Saudi and Pakistan buyers for cash to buy Iranian weapons.
They were sending repeated radio messages that were unanswered. Finally they dispatched messengers towards the Chad border. The drones followed them for the four days it took them to make the journey.
The CIA with several teams from the JBG security group were shadowing the messengers. At the Chad border the messengers met ten apparently Boko-Haram fighters.
The following day the group continued on towards the Chad Sudan border. At the border they were met with a heavily protected convoy. The meeting lasted four hours before the groups separated.
After the meeting the convoy left in the direction of Khartoum. Khartoum had the largest airport in North Sudan. The CIA ordered another drone to follow the convoy from its secret base in South Sudan while the other kept the messengers in view as they started back in the beat-up Toyota trucks in the direction of Gusau.
Thirty miles from Gusau the messenger group met up with the group to deliver them to hell – the JBG group. It was an ambush of the kind Boko-Haram normally delivered to its enemies.
The Toyotas were the first to die, that left the fifteen occupants on foot – if they decided to run into machine gun fire. The intent was to scare the life out of them so they would spill their guts before it physically happened. The Toyotas were riddled with machine gun fire to get proper effect before they were given the opportunity to surrender.
Some of these men had to be leaders or at best trusted confidants. A couple of experts from the CIA Africa headquarters were flown in to interrogate them.
What I knew that the CIA briefer did not was about the direct orders I had sent to Andy carried special instructions. Andy sent three of his men to assist or get results if the CIA could not and then they were to kill all of them without mercy. It would be a deserving end to the men that had killed hundreds of villagers – including children and infants – in the most gruesome ways.
Fear, intimidation, bribes and kidnappings would ensure there would be no innocent verdict from any trial. Plenty of 5.56 rounds would solve the problem and there would be no repeat offenders.
With no family here I spent several hours in the fitness center and then time in the hot tub – all alone.
Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.

After seeing my family off, the first thing I did was read the details of all the intel intercepts for the last ten days. While on vacation I was receiving just the summaries.
I read part of them then went to the national security briefing on the second floor. There is where I had an unusual awakening. Iran was in worse shape than previously thought.
Their military was now getting paid with script and not cash, not even every week but every other week. The script could be deposited and then drawn against to buy food and fuel when it was available. Cash was rare except for the ruling class.
All payments to the surrogate terrorist groups were stopped. The Iranians were now demanding hard currency for weapons shipped to the groups.
That explained the four scows that the Navy and JBG security ships had seized in the ten days we had been vacationing. The decks were false. Underneath the deck, the hold was filled with weapons that were to be sold to combatants in Somalia, Yemen, Sudan and the rest of Africa.
The Iranians were having a fire sale. That’s why more modern weapons were turning up in Africa and the Middle East.
The Iranian weapon delivery system was falling into hard times and the revenue the arm sales produced was coming to an end. Every shipment that was seized was less money they were to receive.
After thirty years of embargoes and sanctions, the Mullahs were nearing an end. Instead of saying enough and coming into compliance with UN decree, they were going to go full out war in the Middle East.
It would be so easy for them to negotiate out of this mess but no. Europe was anxious for a solution itself, desperate to trade oil for any commodities.
The intercepts – when all placed together – for the last six months was like a road map. A sentence here, a paragraph there – when connected they told the story. The only thing lacking was their war plan and a date when it was to happen.
Were the massive Iranian military exercises the lead-in for their battle plan? I was willing to bet it was. Why else would they expend so much money when things were so desperate nationwide?
When the drills were over, whatever they had in mind would not happen in sixty to ninety days. They would need that long to resupply and rearm from their warehouses and correct any problems with their army that the drills revealed.
After lunch there was a meeting with the joint chiefs for updates on all the things I had raised issues in with the last few weeks.
I ate lunch quietly by myself and was still reading. When I finished, Troy and I discussed several things he was working on for me.
One of them was information on creating an investigating branch with subpoena power for the Executive Branch.
Congress had subpoena powers and the ability for forwarding cases to the judiciary for prosecution. The Justice Department had their own subpoena and prosecution powers.
The four constitutional experts that briefed me during the first few days I was in office said that there were no words in the Constitution forbidding such an agency within the executive branch. They also said that there were no words allowing such an agency.
The result was their suggestion to try it and see how it went with the courts. That was what Troy and I were discussing – the right way to continue. First thing was a news release to announce it and wait for reactions.
The joint chiefs were in the conference room waiting. When I walked in the Secretary of Navy started the discussion.
”The Bush and Eisenhower will leave for sea trials on Friday. Provisions and weapon are being loaded. They will leave for their duty station immediately after completion of the trials. The rest of the task force will be ready to go with them ”
That would be four carrier task forces at sea and a good start. The big question was would the other two be ready in time. It was also time to get the Pacific task forces engaged in the process.
”The engineers have figured out a way to refuel the Stennis quickly. The Stennis and Thomas may both be ready in three months or less,” he said.
I listened as the Air Force gave updates on plane readiness. It was a number calculated every day on how many planes could sortie if an order was given. The numbers were slowly moving up.
At the first meeting I had as CIC, the numbers were at forty percent – now they were fifty five percent. There was still room for considerable improvement and I let it be known.
The B21 numbers were disappointing; they were still in the low forties. We had a hundred of them and today only forty of them could be counted on to fly.
That didn’t count those that would have to scrub the mission at the line after preflight and engine run-up failures
The good news was the seventy old ancient B52H models that were now being flown by the grandchildren of the original pilots now had a ninety five percent availability rate.
They were forever upgraded for every conceivable new threat, time after time. They could carry every kind of bomb and missile in the arsenal, from a group of plain old dumb bombs to two of the newest MOAB (Mother of all bombs) and still carry a couple cruise missiles on the wing pods.
The eight original jet black smoking engines had been replaced by four new larger fuel efficient engines. The result was a twenty percent reduction in fuel consumption and a thirty percent increase in range.
Previous upgrades had replaced all the instruments with the latest liquid crystal design. All the avionics had been replaced multiple times and now had the latest radars, radios and multiplexing, multi-functional and were able to interface with any Air Force plane in the air for offensive and defensive measures.
The B1s and B2s had long ago gone to the boneyard, they were too costly to fly, parts impossible to find and some days none were able to handle the call – but the B52 flew on.
We spent an hour trying to analyze the Iranians intentions. The only thing we really had to go on was the intelligence intercepts. They were still following closely. The information we were getting from the Iranians agreed with the intelligence we were getting.
From the Army general the updates were on the California and Washington operations. He was wanting to reduce the number of troops involved. I agreed to a further draw down and we began planning the New York phase for a similar operation. The meeting ended on those discussions.
Secretary Dean was waiting when I returned to the Oval Office. The Emir of Nigeria was flying in Wednesday night for two days of talks on Thursday and Friday.
I looked over the outline of the talks, topics and projects for our one on one discussion. I wanted a large map of Nigeria placed on the meeting table in the map room. I wanted to be prepared for my meeting when he arrived at the White House.
Secretary Dean was going to take care of all the planning and attendees for the customary state dinner.
The meeting lasted an hour while we discussed all the various aid programs that I could offer to the Emir; outright grants to military aid, humanitarian grants, low cost loans, and international monetary fund grants for infrastructure and more.
I never knew there were so many ways for the President to influence foreign affairs and countries and give away US tax dollars in the process. But I was getting one fast education.
I gathered up Ziva and several Secret Service agents and went to the fitness center and then spent several hours working out. It was the only chance I was going to have for a few days. Tomorrow night there was a fundraiser in Des Moines Iowa.
This one I was going to without my mates. They were busy; things were hopping with JBG. First was the college contracts that needed to be reviewed for the next college year. One third were up for renewal this year.
Another issue for the security division was that in June we allowed all the embassy employees to rotate to another embassy if they wanted a change in duty assignment. There were always a few that wanted a change in scenery.
We allowed the policy because it helped morale. From a security standpoint, moving people around reduced the risk that someone was on the take feeding information to the potential enemy or the media. Vicky and Andy were continuing the policy.
After supper I spent an hour on VCATS talking with my mates and the boys. Then I had more reading in the recliner in family room before calling it a night. I was lonely not having someone to sleep with.
Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.

We arrived back on the island in time for a barbeque and beer. On the way back I thought about Iran’s troop movements and drills. It was the biggest yet, involving the most troops.
Their people were in deep poverty and had been for a while after the decades of embargoes and sanctions. Gas and food were rationed as was electricity. We called them rolling blackouts. For the Iranians it had become a way of life – electricity for four hours a day – except for Teheran.
Nuclear accidents had been costly; thousands of acres were off limits for decades because of radiation from test failures and waste disposal. Yet they pushed on to develop weapons of mass destruction.
The intercepts indicated the strikes were going to be against American interests, allies and bases. All these troop movements made me think there could be much more.
I called Bob Smith and General Ingram back, ”I want increased surveillance of Iraq, Syria, and Jordan,” I said.
They had no method to get that many troops across the Strait into Saudi Arabia, Oman or United Arab Emirates so they must be planning on a land attack or one hell of a land defense. Either way it bore watching more closely.
I had time to get all my mates off to the side and talk more about our life as we wanted it to be and the changes we were going through.
There were the rough spots with me now being President but we were working through them. One thing was as much personal time with each of my mates as I could get. When we did have time we made the most of it and I made sure I spent equal time with all of them. I did the same with our kids.
It was the end of March; I had been President almost three months. We had a system worked out; at least two of my mates were with me every day, sometimes three of them. And with the kids whenever possible.
The office was still running smoothly, even though there still was a learning curve in a couple departments. We had good employees and trained them to make them better. The business was still making money – lots of money – and growing.
The Mexican contract which was thought to be only a couple years, had stretched into long term contracts. The same was happening with the pact country contracts. We thought several hundred employees would be the final numbers. Now Vicky was pushing a thousand – so many in fact, we were hiring local people in several countries to fill routine jobs.
The college security division was no different; what started as twenty colleges was now at seventy and thousands of employees.
What had started as a gamble was the Polokwane mines and the ghost town and it truly had turned into a gold mine. We had anticipated not seeing profits for a minimum of ten years. It turned profits immediately.
The C5s were bringing massive loads of gold and uncut diamonds to Morton each month. They were still digging up gold they had hidden from the prince and his henchmen and would be for at least another year. Only then would the miners move to the gold seams that had been found in the appraisal.
We were spending tons of money in the beginning hiring back the three thousand miners that would call the town theirs. Then we hired craftsmen to build four thousand decent houses for all to live in instead of shanty shacks without running water or sewage.
We moved an eighteenth century town into the twenty first century in three years. It was complete with food stores and a medical center, paved roads, clean water and sewage with a treatment plant and its own power plant and school.
We were still running heavy security for the town, mines and airport. While the townspeople of Polokwane were happy people, those outside of the district were not, especially with prodding by the rebels migrating south from Botswana, Zimbabwe and further north. There were limits that we were sticking to.
If we needed additional people and skills, a place was found for them but the town was not a charity town. If we didn’t need them they were sent on their way, sometimes forcefully.
The town had elected their own managers and government. What had been a company owned store was no more and dozens of other independent business were springing up. It had turned into a success story we could be proud of.
We started talking about the election and the fundraisers we had done. They admitted they had fun at the last ones. They were getting into the energy of the crowd and could not wait for Sunday’s fundraiser and rally at ATT stadium – formally known as Cowboys stadium – in Arlington Texas.
Off season, the stadium was used for concerts, Motorcross, RV shows, Ag equipment shows and more. When in the concert format the portable stage was moved back from the grand entrance to accommodate the crowd size. With the monster overhead HDTVs screens every seat was a good seat. I was told it was sold out but I had no numbers.
I finally broke down and asked my mates the big question, ”Should I officially run for President?”
We had talked about the possibility but never in depth. In the last two fundraisers I had made the mistake of implying I might. It was decision time.
In between each of the last three presidential election cycles there had been major changes to the caucus and delegate process for the political conventions.
Once upon a time Iowa and New Hampshire were known as early states, followed by Nevada and South Carolina. Then there was Super Tuesday followed by another Super Tuesday a month later, capping off the majority of the quest for delegates. Of course there were a few individual states along the way.
All this gave the candidates time to visit all the delegate rich states. Only one problem: the liberals of California, New York and New Jersey and a couple more larger states felt that the earlier voting in the smaller, possibly more conservative states diminished the power and influence of progressives, extreme liberals and Socialists to help set party policy and elect liberal presidential candidates.
All this set in motion a redo of the presidential election process, with more being done to the process between each election. The previously mentioned extremely liberal states grouped together to have the earliest possible caucuses.
The theory was they could chose the candidate for the national ticket because they were the delegate rich states. The candidate that won those states would be unstoppable.
The result was the rest of the nation – fly-over country – would be powerless to stop the liberal choice or even help a more moderate candidate.
The next thing they tried was a winner take all of the states delegates, regardless of party affiliation. It was an attempt to stifle all opposition to the liberal agenda.
The real goal was to eliminate any possibility of a moderate or conservative candidate getting any delegates.
Then two different approaches to eliminating the Electoral College were tried. One of them was a winner take all again. If a state had one hundred electoral votes, the candidate that won fifty one percent took all one hundred, not the fifty one for one and forty nine for the other.
The other was elimination of the Electoral College completely. Those six states could elect the President. In the other forty four there would be no need to vote. Our founders argued over this very problem before deciding on the Electoral College.
With global environmentalists demanding population consolidation to reduce transportation pollution it was conceivable that some point as few as two states could elect the President under the liberal plans.
There were twenty candidates still in the running and not one of them had more than ten percent of the delegates. The conservative party was in a fiasco – a doom and gloom fiasco. With the big caucuses now past, their problems were just beginning.
After a long talk I decided that a run for the presidency with the current state of events was out of the question and would only add to the confusion. Besides, after I finished with Iran and its terrorists no one would ever vote for me anyway. I would be political poison.
I would continue to do the fund raisers for the party but would be more careful about what I said.
The night was quiet and restful. We were up early with a big breakfast – the last one we would eat here. Then we were spending time on the beach again, after which we would be packing everything up.
We were leaving at 1400 for Texas; the rally and fundraiser started at 1800. After the rally we were returning to Andrews. All my family was spending the night at the White House for the first time. They would fly home from Andrews tomorrow.
We made the flight on time and landed at Dallas Fort Worth International at 1600. From there we had a motorcade to ATT Stadium for the standard meet and greet with wealthy donors and those seeking influence.
My mates and I did the usual politics, pictures and hand shaking. At 1800 I walked out onto the stage to a wall of people. The portable stage was at the forty yard line. People were seated in all three levels of bleachers from there around the end zone to the forty on the other side. The field itself was chairs from the goal line to the stage.
In front of the stage were handicap and special needs people and VIPs with special access. The speech was more data, facts and more positive motivation to continue the prosperity and growth, finishing out with the eight – more -years chant.
We landed back at Andrews at 2200. I slept well, we all did. I hated to see my family heading back to the Island. Everyone was needed there, they had been away ten days – there was a lot of work to catch up on. I had my share of things to do as well.
Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.

The USS Iwo Jima was close enough I could read the name and ship number LHD7 on the bow. It was an amphibious assault ship with a flight deck like a carrier for helicopters and a well in the stern that could be open and discharge air cushioned landing craft or traditional tracked landing craft.
It was a newer sister ship of the USS Boxer that was in the Arabian Sea. When ready to fight, it carried two thousand Marines and at times – special operations personnel.
There were three landing craft in the water headed our way as we picked up speed to the island. They matched our speed and kept up with us. The military officers in my staff were keeping everyone informed on our daily plans. There were four AH-1 Super Cobra/Viper helicopters flying towards the island.
Low Island was aimed north-east by south-west with one hundred and forty plus acres. The east side was the ocean side. It had a cliff with a steep drop off of several thousand feet – almost straight down – according to the ocean charts.

The lee or western side had a sloped sandy beach that stretched several hundred yards before reaching a depth of less than one hundred feet at its deepest before climbing to shallows waters on the south side of Deep water Cay.

We crossed the two miles in no time and were soon unloading the equipment on the beach. My security was on the ATVs because they could get around a lot faster. The Gators were larger, had more wheels and less likely to turn over – just safer for us with the boys.

The three Navy landing craft came ashore and unloaded men. I noticed they were heavy on officers as they came to introduce themselves. The helicopters were crossing the island in a search pattern.

”Madam President, I’m Brigadier General Oliver Stilwell. Washington asked us to do a security check on the island since it is unoccupied most of the time and we were in the area monitoring drug traffic as part of the anti-drug task force,” he said as I returned his salute.

”I will have to thank General Ingram for his concern for my safety,” I said.

The White House photographer and media were clicking away. No doubt those pictures would gather plenty of conversation. I was in a small bikini and a White House issue baseball cap with the seal of the President on it with my hair in a ponytail, wearing my favorite aviator sunglasses and tennis shoes. All my mates were dressed pretty much the same way. After all, we were on vacation and it was in the mid-80s

Access to the mansion and to the runway was from the sandy beach up a winding path. The Marines walked the path while the General and officers talked about the island. The General insisted that we wait until the other officers and Marines made it to the top and checked things out.

General Stillwell and my family talked while we were waiting. ”You have got the Navy scared with the threat of canceling those carriers. Admirals are jumping through hoops and they have Newport News Ship Building scrambling,” he said.

”I’m afraid we may need them sooner than we expect,” I said.

The Marines were at the top and signaled all clear. I knew it was by the camera and sensor system that Lorrie had installed after she bought the Island. She and Andy were worried about the isolation of the mansion on the island.

Andy had a full blown security system installed, the original solar field expanded and found out that the original reserve battery system was only capable of holding fifty percent of its reserve capacity. Age had taken its toll as with all batteries.

Andy replaced and expanded the standby system with the new lithium deep cycle batteries and a new converter/ inverter. The system was capable of supplying power to the security system for thirty days if the sun didn’t shine and all the power needs of the mansion if it did.

The windmill generator was worn out and not producing anything. Lorrie and Andy wanted a backup system so the windmill power was eliminated while the diesel generator was serviced, updated and load tested.

This was ‘Hurricane Ally’. Hurricane force winds and wind power generators were bitter enemies. Without advanced controls they would over speed and destroy the gearbox or the armature, rendering it useless. The wind power was removed and junked. The tower that it was mounted on was left and an antenna mounted on it.

I sent the Gators on to the mansion and walked up the path with the General and the rest of the group that was with us. At the top of the hill after we rounded the dunes, the mansion was enormous.
Who-ever designed it must have designed castles in a previous life. The walls were of cut stone at least a foot thick. The windows had massive cedar shutters that could be closed to protect the glass from storms. There was a screened in porch that had large hinge pins on every supporting post. I assumed they were for storm shutters that were stored somewhere.
It was two stories with a second floor open porch that went completely around the house. The porch on the ground level was just on the ocean side. There was a big door that opened to the porch. From the porch to the ocean cliff was a hundred yards at least. There was a heavy duty double pipe rail to keep people from walking off the cliff and dropping into the ocean.
Inside, the place was extravagant with ten foot ceilings, a massive chandelier in the living room with a fireplace with sitting rooms and an entertainment room. Every room was accented with carved moldings and woodwork. The large kitchen had been modernized not long ago with big upright freezers and refrigerators. The dining area had fancy thickly padded walnut tables and chairs.
From the upstairs porch I could see for miles on the ocean to the east. To the west I could Deep Water Cay and the bay with the Iwo Jima sitting at anchor along with the surrounding islands.
There were eight bedrooms; three of them were master bedrooms with full baths. The other bedrooms shared several half baths. The master rooms had colonial style king-sized four poster beds built with exotic lumber; teak, walnut or cherry. It was the same with multiple dressers with fancy woodwork. Each had small walk-in closet.
This place cost a bloody fortune to build and maintain. If I had been asked about the purchase I would have said no. I was sure Lorrie and Marcy had ideas other than just our privacy. There was no doubt one could relax and have peace and quiet here.
When the girls asked me what I thought, ”Absolutely beautiful house and a great piece of property,” I responded – it was ours, I would just have to see what the plans were for it.
The helicopters radioed that everything was clear so we rode the island shoreline in the Gators and ATVs along the ocean side and returned on the bay side.
With the place locked and secure, it was time for us to head back to the Cay.
”Madam President – Captain McKay invites you and your group aboard for a tour of the Iwo Jima and coffee,” General Stilwell said.
I asked the girls if they wanted to go take a tour of the Iwo? I hadn’t hardly finished when the boys let us know they wanted to go.
It took a few minutes to sort out everything with the Secret Service and my JBG security to decide who was going and who was returning to the island. Obviously the two military officers with football were going. We had to use a Marine landing craft to be able to board the Iwo; they were afraid our aluminum ones weren’t built heavy enough.
Twenty minutes later we were going to through the well deck opening and being winched tight to the loading platform before they dropped the front gate. The other two landing crafts were beside us – one of them crowded with Marines who had made room for us in the others.
When the gate dropped, the General and I were piped aboard. The ship’s address system announced that the CIC was aboard. We were the first ones out and stepped out to the full VIP treatment. The ship’s commander and officers, the Marine officers, sailors in their whites and a Marine detachment in dress blues – all at attention along with an admiral. The admiral was one star Rear Admiral Clayton Perry.
We toured the main deck, the mess, the officers quarters, the hangar deck and listened to the operations people explain their mission and responsibilities. We were given a tour of the bridge with an explanation of all its functions and operational control.
We watched the radar sweeps of the area with the explanation of how it worked. The boys were fascinated – my mates had seen it before with the Doppler radar at Morton.
Secret Service Special Agent Donald Gardner was the senior agent and field supervisor of the agent detachment for my vacation. I trusted him with my 2 phones when I was in vacation attire – namely a bikini. There was no place to carry the phone.
I heard the phone ring, ”Madam President, it is your White House phone,” he said as he handed it to me.
”Hello,” and then I listened as General Ingram said a few words and then asked if I was in a position to converse by MTAC.
Turning to Admiral, ”I need to use your MTAC communications room.”
”Follow me,” General Stilwell said.
”Captain, will you show my group to the flight deck and show them the new helicopters you have?” I asked.
”Yes ma-am I would be glad to,” he said.
I followed the Admiral and General to the MTAC which was a room below the bridge on the main deck.
”Please page General Ingram,” I said.
After a few minutes, ”It says not authorized – the highest we can page is the Chief of Naval operations,” the controller said.
”Sign out and let me sign in,” I said as I waited for her to move from the terminal.
A couple minutes later I was looking at General Ingram, ”Good afternoon General, I take it we have problems. I am in the MTAC on the Iwo Jima, with General Stillwell and Admiral Perry and the two operators. Should I clear the room before we have a conversation?” I asked.
”Yes, clear everyone except the Admiral and General can stay,” he said. The two operators left the room.
”Next time you go on vacation I’m coming as the DOD representative. I can hand you a beer or tan lotion or something. You are killing the Secret Service and others with you with so much skin,” he said.
”You could have come this time – that is what happens when you don’t answer your phone,” I said.
”So that’s whose blocked number that was,” he said, ”Damn.”
”Iran is moving large numbers of troops,” he said and there were several maps on the screen he was standing beside with a pointer.
”Do you think they are part of the war games they are doing?” I asked.
”Could be possible. If it is, it is more than they have ever moved as part of any games before,” he said.
”What’s the CIA saying? They are supposed to be in the know,” I said.
”I have a call in for Frank Love as we speak. They are telling me he is in a classified meeting and will join us shortly,” he replied.
”What about Bob Smith – anything from the NSA intercepts?” I asked.
”No, he is several days behind on intercept translation. He has lost several people,” he said.
”Stay on the line, I will go a different route,” I said.
I moved over to the other terminal and opened the internet then JBG’s security site, then entered all the passwords and clicked to enter the command center main console. I then keyed the two screens together as one.
”Hello boss, been awhile since you have called in while I was manning the desk,” said Tom Folsom who usually worked the night shift.
”Hello Tom, whose arm did you break to get day work?” I asked.
”Jimmy is on vacation – I’m pulling a double today,” Tom replied.
”Helping each other out – nothing wrong with that,” I said.
”Tom, connect me with Robert, Andy and Gabriel in Oman and Ike Gardner at AD – Demand Saudi Arabia please,” I said.
Robert and Andy were the first on line; they were at the office.
”Robert, are you up to date on the intercepts from the listening post on the strait of Hormuz?” I asked.
”I’m sure the team has finished today’s intercepts, I can send you the summary if you like,” he said.
”Has there been anything intercepted about all the troop movements that Iran is doing? ” I asked.
”Yes! Quite a bit from Tiam and general communications. The orders are directing assembly at the Iranian army training area and live fire drills slated at Kashan. There are some other things in it I made Andy aware of,” Robert said.
”No orders directing any troops towards the Strait or any of the JBG assets?” I asked.
”No, none and it is scheduled to be a two week drill,” Robert replied.
”Sounds like they are prepping for war and that coincides with the other intel we have,” I said.
”Andy, what are your thoughts on your Middle Eastern sites?” I asked.
”I increased the awareness code level – as it stands we are good. I look at the intel every day and will change as necessary. I would like to have some additional weapons,” Andy said.
”Give a list to Vicky when we get home – she can get what you need,” I said.
”General Ingram, since the agencies are slow translating the intelligence, do you want the summary or the complete report from Robert?” I asked.
”The complete report would be good,” the General said.
”Robert, remove the things that could point to JBG and email it to me at my DC office, if you would please,” I said.
”Gentlemen is there anything else we need to discuss?” I asked.
They said ”no” and the windows starting closing one at a time.
”I need to take a quick tour, find my group and get back to Deep Water Cay,” I said.
”Before you go I have an Iwo Jima cap for you,” the Admiral said.
”Have you got a sharpie? I will trade for this one I am wearing,” I said.
With the sharpie I signed the presidential hat I was wearing, ”R. Jones 47th. President.”
After a quick walk-through of the upper decks and talking with a few sailors and Marines, we boarded a couple helicopters to carry us to Deep Water Cay. I was sitting behind the pilot and copilot.
I tapped the pilot on the shoulder, ”You do realize that when I am aboard, this helicopter becomes Marine One – use it as your aircraft ID. Don’t forget to enter in your log pilot in command time for Marine One. It may not mean much now but will be a great conversation piece with the children and grandchildren. The same goes for you as the copilot,” I said.
Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.

It was well after midnight when we turned in and 0600 when I was drinking the first cup of coffee while reading the reports.
The missile defense sites in Oman and Saudi Arabia had shot down fifteen more Iranian missiles at sunrise this morning that were destined for the anchorage.
Iran was livid, accusing the US of interfering with announced military exercises in international waters. They had demanded we cease all operations and were demanding the UN to censure the United States. Iran refused to accept the UN approval of the international anchorage and terminals in international waters.
The International Shipping and Waters Committee in the UN was demanding that Iran stop military activities in designated shipping channels, waterways and anchorages. The UN had approved the new anchorage in the Arabian Sea and the Saudi oil terminals off the coast of Oman months ago.
There was opposition when the voting took place but the most vocal was Iran vowing there would never be any oil shipped from them.
Oman’s fledgling government was looking forward to the royalties it was going to collect from the pipelines and support business for the tankers. There would also be a thriving port business associated with it. Tugs would be needed to position the ships along with food and sewage services and of course – garbage scows.
The result was another international standoff with Iran that resulted in another round of worthless resolutions. No penalties, no sanctions – just more worthless talk and threats of sanctions.
After breakfast another MTAC was on order with my staff here and in Washington with the Generals. After that was a statement to the media.
The boys had done very well at the classes yesterday. In a way I expected it because they could swim like a fish – much better than I could at that age. Today there was a refresher and some new skills. If all that was successful, this afternoon we would have a family snorkeling trip to the coral beds.
There was also a wreck site made especially for beginning snorkeling enthusiasts. We would go there to tomorrow as a family.
We took the gators and rode the island until the boys needed to go to the class. Then we tanned for the two hours they were in class.
We were waiting for the boys at the pool to finish. There were four flat bottom boats to take us to the coral beds.
An hour later we were slipping off the side of the boat near the coral beds. There were two of us with each boy, just to make sure they didn’t run into problems. Two of us were always in the boat with Takeo and Sara taking turns.
There were three boats with agents to watch over us. There were two Navy Seals on the boats with the agents. There was an underwater photographer. I wasn’t going to allow any photographs but then it would make a great vacation album; one the boys and we could enjoy forever.
Three hours later we were loading back up in the boats. The boys had swam, looked and touched everything they could within their limitations. They were filled with excitement and had hundreds of things they wanted to talk about. At least it was different things to talk about.
They were also exhausted – they had been in or under water almost five hours today. They would really be sore tomorrow.
There was a group at the docks; staff, reporters and family. The reporters were taking pictures and asking questions about how the water was and how the dives went.
The family was there to see us and to see how the boys had fared with their swim.
My staff was there with a handful of notes and folders – things I knew I needed to look at and soon. But first was the family time while the boys were excited telling everyone what they had seen and how much fun they had swimming with the fish and the sunken boats and ships.
I was sure we were going to be going again – possibly several more times – before the trip home. I knew that every time they went their lungs would get stronger and give them the ability to stay down longer.
Everyone finally realized they were thirsty and hungry and headed for the food. I grabbed a quick meal and then went to cottage to sort through all the messages.
One message was from the State Department – the Emir of Nigeria had accepted my offer of the trip to Washington for direct meeting to hold talks.
I sent a lengthy note to Secretary Dean to set up the necessary travel arrangements and accommodations for a state visit. Then he had a list of things I wanted prepared for the meeting and visit.
The Secretary of the Navy’s note was that work was ahead of schedule on the remaining carriers at Newport News Shipbuilding. The Bush and the Eisenhower will both be going to sea trials in three weeks or less. That was good news with the way things are going in the area.
I had four bills from Congress on my desk to read; the final version would be passed by conference committees.
I sent a message to my office to have the legal group write me a layman’s version of each. It was taking me too long to figure out all the legal speak and gibberish that the congressional people wrote into it. I was sure there was a knack to it but I just hadn’t found it yet.
A bonfire on the beach, several cold beers and a warm breeze made the night refreshing. It was announced that it was a party bonfire that all the guests could come and enjoy. Many did; agents, analysts and the staff that had come with me.
We mingled, talked and made plans for tomorrow. The boys wanted to go snorkeling again and we made plans to go see the bigger island that Lorrie had bought. It was named Low Island after Edward Low, the 17th century British Pirate who was active in Caribbean the 1660s.
David Holmes – the property manager for Deep Water Cay – had been looking after Low Island ever since Lorrie bought it. There was a massive mansion on the east side facing the ocean that we wanted to look at to see if the pictures did it justice.
David has made sure the place was kept tight and dry and aired out frequently and cleaned. The previous owner had a private weather reporting station, a small solar farm and wind power generator with a battery system. It was large enough to maintain the security cameras and power the satellite dish when he was not there.
There was a diesel generator for power when his family spent the summer there and the demand was more than the wind and sun could supply.
Of course we wanted to check out the gravel runway to see if it had possibilities.
We were in bed by 2200 and we all slept soundly – salt water and the ocean air will do that to you.
I was reading the classified security updates at 0600 with the first cup of coffee. The ones that interested me the most were the ones from ICE, INS and the DHS. The number of illegals being deported was climbing by the thousands every day.
The downside of so many being deported was the possibility of a labor shortage for construction and farm help. Possibly several million were working as laborers for cash.
The contractors loved illegals because they didn’t paid any of the insurance, payroll, unemployment, or any of the other taxes and fees that went with having employees.
The illegals demanded it because there were no records that would prevent them from all the free stuff the liberals were demanding to be given to them. They could have no paper trails to lead to them for having a job.
Minimum wage was now sixteen dollars an hour with skills paying considerably more and they received all of it in cash. Government needed its share to provide services.
Tax cuts through the years had taken its toll on the revenue stream but growing employment, business growth and growth in a host of other taxpaying endeavors offset it. Next year’s budget would be balanced if growth continued at its present level.
Everybody hates to pay taxes, including me. I look at the check and think damn! But then look at all it does; roads, bridges, police, fire, defense and so much more.
Forty years and there was still no real plan on immigration or how to make it work for and with the goals of our nation. It was just a pile of rules and regulations that changed in the wind with every political whim. Somewhere there was an answer, but just where?
The Justice Department had finally started cranking down the screws on sanctuary cities and counties. They had tried to for years with little effect. But AG Dunne had enough and I took the blinders off that President Thomas had put on him.
Two weeks ago he had arrested two State’s Attorney Generals for ordering the state police to not notify ICE and DHS when they had criminal illegals in custody. They were to ignore all federal requests.
Now with the California and Washington state governments in prison awaiting trials, other state and local governments were deciding they needed to be more cooperative – but then there were the diehards.
Detainers and warrants had been issued to no avail. In several cases they were rearrested a few days later for more crimes. Reoccurring serious violent crimes by released individuals where detainers and warrants had been issued and ignored broke the camel’s back.
In the budget I had just signed was language that would allow the Justice Department to deny all grants and appropriated funds to any jurisdiction that did not comply fully with federal law enforcement agencies.
It would hold elected and appointed administrators criminally responsible for their actions violating or ordering the violation of the federal statutes. I could see none of this ending well – but things needed to be done differently than in the past. It was a start but twenty years too late.
I gave instructions to the island maintenance group to load six gators and six of the ATVs in the four landing craft for us to use on Low Island this afternoon.
The family was up and already gathering in the main cottage for breakfast. We decided to walk on the beach for a while after breakfast and then go snorkeling again with the boys. After that we would eat an early lunch and make the trip to Low Island.
The Secret Service needed to set things in motion and did so while we were walking on the beach and snorkeling. The boys had a grand time again and so did we.
We ate a quick lunch, boarded the landing craft and started towards Low Island. When we came around the jetty and into open water I knew where the Navy Seals came from.
Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.

Two and a half hours later I was walking in the sand towards the bonfire on the beach. Two little boys met me, each carrying a beer for me and talking a mile a minute. There was a slight nice warm breeze – it was still seventy degrees.
The coordinators were getting everyone assigned to their cottages and transportation to get them there before dark. Each building would have one golf cart and one Gator. There was a hotel phone in each cottage to the main building where they could request transportation if those were gone.
The main building was where public computers were with a massive kitchen and dining area. Just off the main building were the two pools and a large hot tub. It is also where one needed to go to arrange transportation to the big island. A short walk from there took one to the docks where the boats to the big island were tied up.
The Skidoos were there as well as the flat bottom shallow-water boats for snorkeling.
Some cottages were like four separate two bedroom apartments. Others were like a large cottage with six bedrooms that all shared a living room and small kitchen.
The main cottage where I and my family were staying on the opposite side of the pool was the largest cottage on the island. It had ten rooms – many with private bathrooms – and it was two stories. Three of the rooms were joined by walk-through doors, just right for my family.
At the bonfire I tightly hugged and kissed each of my mates. We settled into a tight group touching, holding and talking. We watched the boys playing at the water’s edge.
It was 2100 when we walked back to the cottage. The people had cleared out. A few were walking the beach in both directions as we walked back. We bathed the children and put them in bed. Then we continued our intimate time before going to bed ourselves.
I slept in for me – it was 0600 when I found the first cup of coffee. It could have stood some improvement but it was coffee. I carried six cups and a coffee pot with several glasses of orange juice, apple juice and milk on a tray back to the cottage.
An agent placed a folder on the tray and held the door open for me to leave. I knew what the folder was – intelligence updates and other classified reports that I received every morning.
Vice President Harrison received the same report while I was on vacation and was handling the daily White House confusion for me.
I was on the second cup of coffee when I finished reading the updates. The coffee aroma had everyone else up. Even the two boys were up, wanting to know what was for breakfast.
I called the agent so he could have my questions answered by the appropriate people in the next hour or so.
Sara and Takeo – now eighteen months old – joined in the chorus. Together we made our way to the dining room and placed our food order. While we were waiting on the food, we planned the day.
First off this morning, we were going to walk the beach enjoying the sand and water. Then this afternoon was snorkel training for the two boys. I expected it to take a couple days for them to get the hang of it.
The water sports trainer gave lessons on the Skidoo and other small boats that carried divers to the coral and diving wrecks. One of the other things he did was teach beginning snorkeling for youngsters and they said he was the best.
He didn’t want parents to watch but several agents and Abra were going to – like it or not.
We walked several miles on the beach looking at sea shells and other things on the sand. Off shore in deeper water there was a Coast Guard patrol boat slowly patrolling along the island. A Gator was following us with the two officers carrying the football.
Several hundred yards ahead of us was an ATV. They were checking out anything unusual they saw.
Tomorrow we were going to work on our all-over natural tans – agents or no agents.
We talked as we walked. I steered the conversation to how they were handling all of the changes. All agreed things were doing quite well. Then I steered the conversation over to the upcoming election and the fundraisers and reminded them of the one on Wednesday.
Wednesday’s fundraiser was close at Greensboro North Carolina. The trip was less than an hour. It was being held in the Greensboro Coliseum; it had sold out in less than a week. I had a good feeling about the next three this week. All were sold out events, even the big one in Texas on Sunday night.
Air Force One was at the Patrick Air Force Base in case I needed to fly somewhere in a hurry. It was flying to the Grand Bahamas Airport to pick up my family, then fly to Piedmont Triad International Airport and then return us back to the Grand Bahamas around midnight.
Adam was flying to Patrick in a jet. He had been working on all three speeches for me and there had been several phone calls and emails. I had read through tonight’s several times. There would be time for several run-throughs using the teleprompter.
We had just finished lunch and left the boys at pool when General Ingram texted that I was needed on MTAC. The girls were getting towels and other things together so we could suntan. I sent them on ahead, telling them I would be along after I finished the video call.
”The Iranian’s are at it again. They announced military training exercises in the Arabian Sea off the coast of Oman in the area of the Saudi new oil terminals. The terminal is to go into service on Monday. Tankers are assembling at the assigned anchorage.”
”The first barrage of missiles was just four minutes after the announcement.”
”The Boxer was in the area verifying the tanker nationalities and crew makeup and was able to shoot down two of the missiles.”
”The land based Patriot 4 missile system that you ordered based at Mascat shot down four more as they entered Oman air space, eliminating the group of missiles.”
”The trajectory and arc indicated they would fall in the anchorage and on the oil terminal,” he added.
”I doubted the need for them at the time you ordered them there. Again your intuition or possibly some intelligence you have has paid off,” General Ingram said.
”I will have Ambassador Dillinger approach the Oman government about expanding the Patriot anti-missile systems there. More there could be beneficial,” I said.
If Iran carried out its plans based on the intelligence Robert had gathered, a large missile attack on all the Saudi oil fields and terminals were among the first targets as was Israel.
This was just the excuse I needed to beef up the antimissile systems there.
The Patriot antimissile systems that were first introduced in the 1980’s were hit or miss at best. Initial failures were at fifty percent, somewhat better than nothing.
Israel purchased some in the 1990’s and immediately began redesign and upgrades to the radar, increasing their effectiveness to seventy five percent. An embarrassed Raytheon doubled their efforts to improve them. The result was the Patriot II and then the Patriot III systems.
Patriot V was in production. If the Patriot II was the cat’s meow, the V was the lion’s roar. In land based installations it was a mixed system with two Patriot IV batteries and one Patriot V battery.
On major ships only the laser portion would be installed to work with other close-in antimissile defense systems already installed on the ships.
The drawback on many Navy ships was there was not an extra 500 KW of power for each unit. The new Fordson class had plenty of electric power available; it was built to be able to handle new weapons of the future. The last two unnamed ships in the construction process would be the first capital ships to get four Patriot V’s.
To put one on each corner of a carrier would take two megawatts of power – enough to run a large town on a cold day.
The Thomas was getting two in the rush refit. With a little prodding, the Navy ordered it under the cloak of testing. The remaining Nimitz class would get two, possibly three, but as with the Thomas – generators would have to be installed to run them.
The Patriot V was a new generation laser. It could shoot high-intensity dense laser pulses five hundred miles, up to seventy thousand feet into the atmosphere – rapid fire like a machine gun – and it was automated.
The computers could differentiate among missiles, planes, helicopters and even small drones. The operators could program it to be selective at targeting.
At testing in the desert a multiple launch of fifty missiles were fired at its location at one time. All fifty were shot down and none made it closer than three hundred miles to the weapon. Those series of tests pushed it to full production.
I signed off on the General’s request then went to find my mates. They were almost a mile from the main cottage, laying on towels – naked – taking in the sun. I oiled my body parts and joined them.
Three hours later we were dressing and headed to the airport. Adam was on Air Force One waiting for me to do the final review of the speech.
It was the usual hour meet and greet with the power players and big donors. Then there was the speech with emphasis on the economy, jobs, terrorism and continued growth. There was also the ’get them fired up’ and ‘eight more years’ of growth and prosperity.
Two hours later I stood on the stage with my family, adding to the energy of the attendees and chanting with them. We walked to the edge of the stage with the Secret Service scrambling and the level was raised another fifty decibels. Ten minutes later I went back to the podium.
I banged on the podium to bring order back to the place. When it quieted down I began an off the cuff speech.
I expanded on all the prosperity that had been abbreviated during the first speech using data from my memory. The markets that I was told to only touch on lightly, I hit the data hard this time with the growing work force and increases in wages and benefits.
There are hundreds of thousands of jobs waiting for the June high school and college graduates. It was reported that as high as seventy percent of the college graduates had already been offered jobs if they were in the sciences, engineering, electronics and technical fields.
Those left looking for jobs were to ones that had taken the easy courses, just to get a college diploma and party.
With the growing prosperity comes home ownership; new and pre-owned were holding record sales volumes and I gave the numbers.
I gave the numbers of jobs for skilled employees that were needed – carpenters, brick layers, electricians, mechanics – and the skills that were needed to keep our country moving forward.
”Many of these jobs have a starting pay that is as good as or better than many beginning college graduates get, without the massive debt,” I said.
”The future is great and it is ours as long as we increase the number of growth minded conservatives in the House and Senate. We must have a President and Congress who believes that the people of the USA should be able to run their lives without the government interference that the socialist and communist so demand.”
“Taking your wages in massive taxes and bogus fees is wrong, destroying entire industries to satisfy some pie in the sky pipe dreams and promises is wrong.”
”The retraining they promise is a lie and they know it. To take someone that is mid-fifty with seniority at the apex of their income and benefits, then force them into the unemployment line and then back to a beginning level job, knowing they will never again reach that apex in their remaining working life is wrong,” I said.
”Even though there are a few wayward states and people – I believe in the good people of the USA and the future. That was why I accepted the Vice President position and now I am President.”
”That is why I am determined to push for security, our military, and your rights as written in the constitution for the great working people that I see in the audience and across the nation. I know what the good people of America can do.”
”You deserve the fruits of your labors and the benefits it brings – not others that only want to live off your labors that the socialist and communist so seek to control!”
”I only have ten more months to be your President but I intend to push policies and programs that light the fuse under our prosperity and push it to new heights. That’s my promise to you.”
”But I am also a realist and I know in an election year it going to be tough, but I promise you I am going to try.”
”It’s your – yes you – and my responsibility to look beyond the campaign lies and promises and chose a President who will continue the prosperity of the last sixteen years and not throw it in the trash bin of history. ”
”I don’t know and cannot tell you who that is.”
”That is why I ask for eight more years for the good of our nation. We must be determined to continue this prosperity and be strong for our children and grandchildren. To borrow a line from a movie, ‘We must choose wisely’,” I said.
”We need eight more years to build the strength of our nation, mark our place in history with the flag of America and solidify the destiny of our people.”
”Drive safely, good night, God Bless America,” I said.
”Eight more years!” I started the chant again – they were on their feet screaming and pumping iron.
I closed the notebook on the podium containing the paper copy of the first speech. By law it was an official presidential document that had to go into the federal archives for eternity. Someone will have to transcribe the off the cuff speech to join it.
I walked in front of the podium and waved good night. I pointed to some men in uniform and then saluted all the veterans and military people in the audience.
I spent an hour talking to the party chairman – with my family – in critical conversation. An hour and a half later I was standing in the sand looking at the reflection of the moon on the water, holding hands with my mates. I was lost in deep thought.
I knew there would be media there – what I did not know was that the entire speech was going to be rebroadcast on the political networks tomorrow evening. It was obviously a very slow news day in Washington for them to spend all that time on my musings.
Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.