President Paul Bedford had been in his office for most of the night, reading reports, talking to Admiral Morris, conferring with his defense staff, and wrestling with the burgeoning economic uproar the events in Saudi Arabia were causing the rest of the world.
The trouble was, no one, not even the Saudis, knew what was going on. Certainly not the United States Ambassador in Riyadh. But at five minutes past five, his personal assistant informed him that the King of Saudi Arabia was on the line. World leaders have no time frames. It’s part of the job.
President Bedford took the call instantly, greeting the King warmly, even though they had never met.
“Mr. President,” said the beleaguered desert monarch, an edge of humility in his voice, “I am afraid I am speaking to you under the most trying of circumstances.”
“So I understand,” said President Bedford. “And there seems to be a great deal of confusion about the culprits for these attacks in your country.”
“It would seem so,” replied the King. “But whoever may be behind this, we are suffering some very serious blows both economically and militarily. It is likely we will have no oil to export for a minimum of one year and possibly for two.”
“I certainly understand the gravity of the situation,” replied the President. “And it is difficult to know what to do, in the absence of a clearly defined enemy. Do you have any ideas who this might be?”
“Not exactly, although it would not be a great shock to find the leaders of some fundamentalist Islamic group at the back of it. However, I felt it wise to inform you that all of my senior advisers believe the main group must be receiving outside help from some other country. It simply would not be possible for all this damage to have been caused by an internal Arabian group. Equally it would have been impossible for an outside assailant to have inflicted the damage without internal assistance from the Saudi military.”
“I see,” said President Bedford. “That makes matters even more difficult, eh? A devil on the outside and another on the inside.”
“Precisely so,” said the King. “I therefore conclude that my throne is very severely threatened, and I am no longer certain whom I can trust.”
“And that’s why you have come to us?”
“The Bedouin way has always been to stay with tried and trusted friends,” said the King. “Your country represents the best friends I have had since coming to the throne. And now I appeal to you to help me in my time of need, as I have so often helped you.”
Paul Bedford knew the King referred to the several times the Saudis had pushed more oil on to the market when supplies seemed threatened by this or that problem in the Middle East and to the many times they had stabilized the markets when oil prices seemed to be rising too drastically. Saudi cooperation with the U.S.A. had worked well for more than three decades.
But he hesitated before answering. As a former naval officer, the right-wing-ish Democrat from Virginia understood the importance of clear-cut military objectives. It flashed through his mind immediately that he could not commit U.S. troops to fight some kind of a phantom.
He spoke to the King gently, and with genuine concern. “I do of course see your point of view,” he said. “And if you wished an enemy to be driven from your borders you could most certainly count on the United States to be your first ally. Indeed we have a Carrier Battle Group in the Gulf at present, and we would not hesitate to send it to your aid…. But it seems to me neither of us has anything to shoot at.”
The King laughed, despite himself. “What you say is true,” he said. “I cannot see my enemy. But I know he is there. And I am very fearful of the next few days, for I feel he will strike at my country again.”
“And even if your enemy is Saudi, you have no idea of the capability of his foreign friends?”
“Indeed we do not,” replied the King. “But we believe they were sufficiently powerful to have destroyed our oil industry. Not one of my advisers believes that much damage was done by a group of internal terrorists.”
“No,” said the President. “My people at the National Security Agency are of the same mind. And my chiefs at the Pentagon, who are more cautious in their assessments of military action, are coming around to a similar view.”
“I have never before been in such a predicament,” said the King.
“I am threatened for my life, my country is threatened, and yet I do not know by whom. I badly want to call upon the help of my very powerful friends in the United States, but I am at a loss as to what they can do.”
“Sir,” said the President, uncertain what title to give the ruler of a desert kingdom. “I have in Washington a wise and experienced expert on foreign affairs. He was the National Security Adviser to the last Republican President. I will summon him to my office this morning and ask his advice and opinion. When we have discussed the matter in proper detail, I will return your phone call and give you the benefit of his knowledge.”
“You must be referring to the Admiral, Mr. President. Admiral Arnold Morgan? A very fearsome man.”
“Correct,” replied President Bedford. “Await my call this afternoon.”
It was the first and last time the two leaders ever spoke.
In the very early days of spring, Admiral Morgan indulged his hobby of harvesting daffodils. And as the first of the brilliantly yellow blossoms burst into life in the garden, he arose at an unearthly time and advanced with a long basket to harvest the first flowers from the 2,000 bulbs of varying specimens he had planted — or at least had had George, the gardener, plant — two and a half years previously.
And here they were, for the second year running, already forming the start of the wide yellow carpet he so admired. However, Morgan liked daffodils in the house more than he liked the garden to be a sea of golden daffodils.
He snapped them off with military precision and laid them side by side in his basket. Kathy said daffodils were the only flowers he ever picked because he liked the sharp, obedient
“They just happen to be Arnold’s kind of flower,” she told friends. “On parade in full uniform early in the morning, and
The parody was so witheringly accurate everyone laughed when she recounted the once-a-year exploits of the family horticulturist. “By April he’s had enough,” Kathy would say. “But he does like daffodils all over the house for a month or so.”
On this Wednesday morning, the Admiral was almost finished. He was on his way back, around the pool, with an enormous basket piled high with the magnificent blooms. As he entered the kitchen, the phone rang. He set the basket down, telling Kathy, “Splash these out right away.” Most people would have said, “Perhaps these should be put in water.” Morgan did not put flowers in water. He splashed ’em out.
He headed to the phone and groaned when it turned out to be “the goddamned factory”…
Morgan, who had been speaking to Lt. Cdr. Jimmy Ramshawe in the small hours, had been nearly certain this call was coming. And essentially he had been keeping his head down.
“Morning Arnie,” said President Bedford. “How’s retirement going?”
“Pretty good, sir. All things considered. Just been picking a few daffodils.”
“A few
“Daffodils, Mr. President. Bright yellow guys. First coming of spring. You pick ’em at first light. You want me to bring you some, brighten up that goddamned dungeon you work in?”
President Bedford was momentarily stunned. The very image of Morgan prancing around a flower garden with an armful of golden yellow blossoms was just a little too much for him to grasp. An armful of hand grenades, maybe, torpedoes, possibly. Det-cord or even bombs. But daffodils? That didn’t sit real straight with the Virginian in the Oval Office.
Anyway, he simply said, “Gee, Arnie, that’d be real nice.”
“Now what can I do to help?” asked the Admiral, amused at how easy it was to throw the Commander in Chief off his stride. “As if I didn’t know.”
“You’re right, Arnie. Can you come in and see me? I just had the King of Saudi Arabia on the line. And, Jesus, I’m telling you that’s one worried guy.”
“I’m not sure I can help, sir,” replied Admiral Morgan. “But since your outfit provides me with a car and
