Washington DC
Clare cleared security at the gates of the White House and was escorted to the Oval Office by an aide, who knocked once before opening the door for her.
‘Clare,’ the most recognizable voice on the planet boomed out as President Morgan broke into a wide smile and greeted her with a hug. ‘You know everyone else, here.’
‘Yes, sir.’ She shook hands with Randall Hocker and Bill Mullins. Nodded at Daniel Klouse, the National Security Advisor, a friend and trusted ally who was close to the president, and Catlyn Feder.
‘You called for this meeting,’ the leader of the free world turned to her when coffees had been served.
‘Yes, sir.’ She sipped her drink and placed her cup on the saucer. ‘We have credible information of an attack on our country. On the Fourth of July.’
Hocker and Mullins froze. The President stroked his chin thoughtfully. He glanced at Feder and Klouse who didn’t show any reaction. ‘You know?’
‘Yes, sir,’ the National Security Advisor admitted. ‘Clare looped us in.’
‘Tell us everything.’
‘It’s our old friend, Siavash Mostofi, sir. The Quds boss.’
‘Friend.’ The President grunted and gestured at her to continue.
‘He plans to dump oil in the market, sir. Just when you are speaking to the nation.’
‘Theatrics. That’s how they work.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘They don’t have the capacity,’ Hocker leaned forward. ‘Iran’s infrastructure is old. It’s held together by spit and duct tape.’
‘That’s what they want us to believe, Randall.’ She removed several photographs from a folder and spread them on the table. ‘That’s Mostofi and his aide Habib Nassour, inspecting the Kharg refinery.’ She pointed to another image. ‘That’s a fleck of paint Nassour’s pocketing. ‘CIA analyzed it.’
‘All their oil stations, equipment, everything, sir,’ Feder took over, addressing the President, ‘is painted that shade. It’s a special composition that looks like its ancient. In reality, their infrastructure is just a few years old.’
‘But—’ Hocker protested.
‘We have confirmation, Randall,’ Clare tapped a nail on one of the photographs. ‘Gayou Corporation, one of the largest oil contractors in the world, a Chinese company, replaced all their equipment. And painted it that shade.’
‘China,’ the President repeated.
‘Yes, sir. Owen Chau, the VP of Operations for the company, based in Tehran, has confessed everything.’
‘How much more can they pump?’ Mullins broke his silence.
‘However much they want. They have more than sufficient reserves. We think they’ll keep dumping until oil prices crash.’
‘Unemployment will be high. Oil rich states will suffer. Shale oil companies …’ Hocker turned pale as he trailed off.
He’s from North Dakota, Clare leaned back on the couch, letting the Energy Sec absorb the implications. He was in the oil industry before he joined the cabinet. He knows what this will do to us.
‘Job losses. Chapter Elevens, sir,’ Hocker leaned forward urgently. ‘This will devastate us.’
‘I thought low oil prices were good,’ Mullins spread his hands out, puzzled.
‘Not when we’re the largest producer in the world. We need to stop this, sir.’
‘I’m sure Clare and Catlyn have a plan.’ The President turned to them.
‘Yes, sir,’ the Agency Director replied. ‘We are sure Mostofi or the Supreme Leader will make some grand speech themselves, at the same time as you are. In fact, Mostofi’s at a public event then. It’s likely he will use that opportunity to make his announcement.’
‘Two countries can stop the devastation,’ Feder refilled her cup and surveyed the State and Energy Secretaries over its rim. ‘Saudi Arabia and us. That’s where you both come in. Meet with the Saudi Energy Minister. Convince him that the way to stop the rout is to drop production. Us and them, acting in concert.’
‘Yes, yes,’ Hocker nodded, catching on. ‘Thereby we maintain global output.’
‘Won’t that hurt us, though?’ Mullins asked.
‘Not as much as sustained low prices.’
‘Sir,’ the Energy Secretary turned to the President. ‘It will help if you called the Prince as well.’
‘I will. Clare, Catlyn, I assume all this has to be handled discreetly.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Zeb’s boss agreed.
‘Is that all?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Gentlemen,’ President Morgan got to his feet and shook hands with Hocker and Mullins. ‘Get to work on this immediately. I need to discuss a few intelligence matters with Clare, Catlyn and Daniel.’
‘Now,’ he addressed his remaining visitors when the men had left. ‘What’s the real threat?’
‘That is a credible attack, sir,’ Clare argued.
‘I know. But that alone will not destroy us.’
‘That, along with a virus pandemic will, sir.’