which dates back to the ninth century. And he remarked how impressed he had been at the smooth working of this, the largest cargo port on the Caspian Sea. “Just wish you guys could find a way for us to help out somehow,” he said.
“Mr. Trueman, as you well know, in the years between 1996 and the new millennium we would have welcomed your help. But your administration chose not even to speak to us. I am sure you, of all people, must understand we had to turn elsewhere….”
“I do understand…and I am sorry that old enmities should have lasted so long…I guess we just had a President who thought he was still trying to get the hostages free in Tehran, eighteen years later.”
“We thought it showed a lack of foresight, Mr. Trueman. There were so many people in my country who wanted a partnership with the West…so many who wanted to join in the prosperity of the West. But you would never listen to the voices of reason that have always existed here in Persia. We’re not all Muslim Fundamentalists, you know.”
“I do know that…and I just wish things could be different…but…well…you hold the aces. The best way out to market for that oil is straight across Iran to a Gulf port…and we coulda built that pipeline quicker and better than anyone.”
“If, Mr. Trueman, you had condescended to speak to us.” The Iranian smiled. “By the way, when do you leave? I have much enjoyed talking with you.”
“We got a U.S. Air Force plane taking us to London in two hours. Then we’re flying the Concorde home tomorrow morning…new service, nonstop London — New York, then on down to Washington. Probably takes that sucker about sixteen minutes to get there.”
“It’s a beautiful aircraft, Mr. Trueman. I have always wished to fly on it one day myself.”
“Mr. Montazeri, if you can come up with a way to bring my country into the marketing of the Caspian oil, I will have my government hire one of those babies, just for you, and fly you from Tehran to Washington to celebrate.”
“I will continue to think about it,” replied the Iranian, laughing. “But the Chinese are very well entrenched now. As we both know, they invested billions and billions of dollars in acquiring the oil, helping us finance the pipeline….”
“Guess so. And, of course, they need so much oil. What’s that statistic again? By the year 2012 they will require 97 percent of all the oil in the Gulf?”
“So the economists say, Mr. Trueman. And since Beijing cannot have all of that, I suppose they will have to purchase it from somewhere else.”
“I’m a little afraid they’ve already done that,” replied the American. “So far as I can see, the entire production of Kazakhstan is on its way to the east. And there’s not a thing we can do about it…thanks to the shrewd and farsighted way our last President helped to make them the second richest country in the world.”
“No, Mr. Trueman. I do not believe there is.”
Everyone was standing, making their farewells in the tall, ornate government conference room, and Bob Trueman’s men were beginning to move toward the massive bulk of their leader. His assistant, Steve Dimauro, the physical opposite of his boss, was whipcord slim, a former All-Star college baseball shortstop out of Vidalia, Georgia. Made it to the Yankees AAA in a big hurry, but lacked the patience, and maybe the size, for the final journey to the Bronx. Steve, with his degree in economics, quit in his third year as a pro and joined the oil giant ARCO, where Bob Trueman was already a towering hero, having masterminded the huge strike in the desert of southern Dubai back in 1980.
Now, seven years later, the thirty-year-old Dimauro was one of ARCO’s young tigers, and his association with the formidable ex-VP Trueman, leader of all current Presidential missions to the Middle East, was powering him ever onward and upward in the corporate structure. ARCO was more than happy to lease him out for a year to gain priceless knowledge of the Russo-Sino-Iranian cartel, which today had so much influence in the running of the industrial world. When Steve returned he would do so as a vice president.
Bob and Steve were accompanied by four United States Republican congressmen, Jim Adison (California), Edmund Walter (New Hampshire), Mark Bachus (Delaware) and Dan Baylor (Texas). En route to the airport they traveled in two separate limousines, one for the two ARCO men and the former oil professional Dan Baylor. The other for the other three congressmen.
There was no particular hurry, but the driver was surprised at Bob Trueman’s instruction for a first stop at the new McDonald’s that had opened in downtown Baku. “Just wanna pop right in there for a coupla of Big Macs,” he said. “I often do that in the midafternoon, kinda stabilizes my weight, keeps it right where it is. At my age you don’t wanna start losing, suddenly. That ain’t real good for you.”
“You mean between lunch and dinner?” inquired Congressman Baylor.
“Right. You see I’m a guy with a big bulk,” said Bob seriously, but unnecessarily. “And given the pressure of my work, that bulk is under attack from my own body. That means in about eight hours I could be undergoing some weight loss. Now that wouldn’t affect a little guy like yourself,” he added, staring at the beefy six-foot Texan’s 225- pound frame. “But a big man’s gotta do what a big man’s gotta do. And right now, that’s weight maintenance. McDonald’s, driver.”
Bob Trueman was still munching cheerfully as they arrived at the airport and boarded the Air Force jet for the six-hour flight to London that would get them in at 1900 local, in ample time for dinner, overnight at the Connaught Hotel, and breakfast with four American oil execs based in London. And on out to Heathrow for the 1100 departure of Concorde. By the time they boarded he was not only still chewing, but was also still grumbling about the shocking lack of foresight the West had demonstrated with regard to the Caspian oil.
“Even back in 1997,” he was saying, “it was known that the Caspian reserves in Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, and Turkmenistan added up to a vast field second only in capacity to the big one in Saudi Arabia. With the Chinese desperate to plug in to it, what does the West do? It does four things.
“One, our President decides to do everything he possibly can to make the Chinese even richer…most favored nation, export anything they want to the U.S. Hand over key aeronautical technology to them, in return for our being allowed to export to them. Whatever makes them happy.
“Two, he decides not to speak to the Iranians, thus denying us a partnership in the best oil route out of the Caspian area.
“Three, the Americans decide to expand NATO east, but not to allow Russia in, thus driving China’s traditional enemy straight back into her arms, now as a friend and vital trading partner. Not to mention the head honcho in the Caspian oil. China’s new best friend is the precise spot we don’t want her.
“Four, the Europeans, with a blinding flash of brilliance, decide to refuse membership in the European Community to the Turks, who, because of the Bosporus, own the
He stared at his five-man audience. “Is there anyone here who can enlighten me as to where precisely we get these fuck-ups who are supposed to be looking after the interests of the West. Anyone? Please…?”
There were just five grim smiles on that aircraft, as the bludgeoning words of the massive Texan struck home. The lethargic behavior of the Western powers had been close to blind neglect, as China, in partnership with Iran, and the Russian oil corporations, had placed a stranglehold on the Caspian oil. It was not as if there had been any secrets.
There had been a huge public announcement when Iran had bought a 10 percent share, back in 1996. In 1997 there was another press announcement that China had wrapped up a deal with Kazakhstan for future exploration of the apparently endless oil fields in the western part of the country.
The Chinese National Petroleum Company (CNPC), under this agreement immediately invested more than $4 billion in the “exploitation” of the Aktyubinsk field — principally for the construction of a pipeline to ship oil from western Kazakhstan to Turkmenistan, and potentially, farther on to Iran.”
Earlier that same week China had signed
“Right there a three-year-old panda could’ve worked out what was happening,” grunted Bob Trueman. “And right in the middle of it we have an ever-aggressive Iran, not just threatening but
