Presidential Meeting
Presidential Hall, Paris
1437 Paris Time
April 7 2004
President Vasanta de Lyons paced through the arched marble halls of Presidential Hall as craftsmen and construction workers continued their work in the stairwell, fitting in the new chandelier. Sparks were falling all onto the floor across the hall. If the hard wood flooring had been installed by now, he would have panicked. Thank God for life's small mercies. He brushed past one of the guards stationed at the door with his entourage, his blue silk tie swinging with his grey suit jacket as he did so. Had he not worn the jacket, he dreaded to think of the looks his stained arm pits would get with his newly pressed white shirt.
On his right, Wolfgang Gerhardt, dressed in his usual black suit and grey tie, and his young secretary were doing their best to keep up. He couldn't clearly remember, but he thought Harriet was her name. She wore the stereotypical pencil skirt and white dress shirt, hugging her figure and propping up her chest in her position with Gerhardt. Some things never change. On his left, Max Peter Ratzel was marching in a black suit and red tie. It looked very natural for him, or so Vasanta thought. In his position, Ratzel was flanked by a pair of Intelligence Officers from the European Intelligence Bureau, and the European Armed Forces Intelligence Corps, respectively dressed in a black suit with a black shirt, accented by a white tie, and in the green and dark blue camouflage pattern befitting of an Army serviceman.
"We're still finding out all the details Mr. President. From what we know however, things aren't looking good." Max touted.
"When have they ever looked good?" Vasanta asked, his stone face not changing in his brisk walk to the recently completed briefing room.
"Mr. President, I think that-" Gerhardt began.
"Save it for the briefing room. We can't talk about this right now." Vasanta interrupted, shooting a glare at the men installing the chandelier in his home. He couldn't risk any threats to security.
A few minutes later, they were at the room and a guard dressed in a black uniform with an earpiece and a sidearm at the ready ushered the men inside, and through the heavy, very much reinforced, oak doors. As the men took their seats, Max and his entourage with the grace of those in uniform, and Wolfgang with a sigh and a sudden drop, Vasanta continued their discussion.
"How the hell can the world expect us to keep peace in Europe? This is not a single super power world! We can't keep Italy and Greece from striking at Turkey while the Americans and the Chinese egg them on. It's an impossibility!" He began, throwing his arms into the air in futility. Rather than sit down, he propped himself up on the back of his chair, hanging over the seat like an Eagle at it's perch.
"Sir, we have already been working our diplomatic channels to their limits. We have pushed both sides, and their benefactors to cease the dispute."
"To what end, Wolfgang? What have we accomplished?"
"At the least, I would say that we have stalled for time, but we have run out of ideas. Short of economic sanctions and sabre rattling against our neighbours we can't do much to have them talk it out. They're dead set on a war." he said, shrugging his shoulders in frustration.
"Well, I suppose it's a good thing I'm not alone in losing all hope. Mr. Ratzel, what have you found?" Vasanta asked, his voice an expression of the tension in the air, and of the tension in the Aegean.
"Mr. President, our sources at the EIB have found that Russia is indeed supplying the Turks with weaponry and military supplies. This is in clear contradiction to some American news outlets that have been speaking widely of Russian and American cooperation in the funding of Greece and Italy."
"And they haven't denied their cooperation?" Vasanta asked quizzically.
"No, Sir. Not yet anyway." Ratzel said, before being cut off by Gerhardt.
"Mr. President," Gerhardt began, immediately having the attention of the room with his unusual interruption. "President Putin is as politically cunning as his American counterpart. The only reason he hasn't denied a cooperative effort with the Americans, is because it gives Congress a reason, albeit false to secure oil and natural gas from Russia. I'd imagine that it's the same reason that American officials haven't denied it either. As frustrated as they might be, the Americans need the oil, and Russia needs them to buy it." Gerhardt concluded.
There was a brief pause in the room as the men, and Ratzel in particular considered it. "It fits with some of our information. The EIB has confirmed that neither the Republic of the Crescent, Iran, or even the Middle Eastern Defence Initiative is sending aid to either side. Given that information, and the conclusions from EAFIC about their production and Defence spending, it seems that neither Iran or Saddam want to waste the supplies they've been storing up on a conflict in the Aegean, and the MEDI has no desire to get involved in a fight it doesn't start."
"So then we can count on a war in the Near East as well?" Vasanta questioned.
"It's hard to be certain at this point, but it is a possibility that must be taken into account. If you'd like, I can find out more information as early as possible."
"I think Intelligence gathering is what I gave you that position for, Mr. Ratzel." Vasanta jabbed with a fraudulent smile. "Now, back to the Aegean. Mr. Gerhardt, you were asked to form a response in the event of a crisis."
"Yes Sir. It is my opinion that in the event of a conflict between the two parties, it would be in Europe's best interest to call for peace talks to be held here, in Paris."
"Wolfgang, I am not the United Nations and I am not a Chamberlain, I will not call the dogs to the dinner table while they scrap." There was a moment of silence as Wolfgang was deflated, and as Max beamed in his little revenge for the unwelcome interruption earlier.
"I propose that you, Wolfgang, begin formalizing a new policy of Interventionism. If either side intervenes against the other, then the European Union will intervene against the aggressor, no matter which side of the aisle they fall on. In the meantime, you can hold your talks in Paris, but I can assure you that you will make no progress. If nothing else, it will buy us time to take a breathe and return to the issue. I will see you at dinner tomorrow to discuss the proposal."
He concluded with a smile and a nod to the door. Flustered and irritated, Gerhardt rose to his feet.
"Harley." he said, rising to his feet with the young Secretary nodding and finishing her notes on the discussion. A knock on the door, and Wolfgang slipped out into the hallway, no doubt with a nod of 'good day' from the guard.
President Vasanta closed his eyes briefly to clear his head. A deep breathe. Ready once more.
"Mr. Ratzel, how is our man in Russia doing?"