The Invisible. Andrew Britton

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СКАЧАТЬ While the current situation wasn’t quite as bad as that, the mood in the room was undeniably tense, and it was getting worse by the minute.

      The wood-paneled press room of the presidential palace was filled to capacity with journalists and cameramen. Small, ornate chandeliers hung overhead, illuminating the crowd and the smiling portrait of Muhammad Ali Jinnah, the founder of Pakistan. As far as Petrina could tell, Jinnah’s was the only smiling face in the room. Two polished lecterns were standing before the portrait, positioned less than 3 feet apart. Behind the lectern, to the right, was the Pakistani foreign minister, Malik Bokhari. The lean, angular Pakistani was dressed in a dark suit and red tie. To his left was acting Secretary of State Brynn Fitzgerald. From where he was standing, Petrina had an excellent view of both officials, as well as the crowd, and the collective tension was hard to miss.

      “Madam Secretary,” came a voice from the crowd. Petrina instantly looked for the speaker and picked out Susan Watkins, the senior correspondent for CNN. The foreign minister had already finished his prepared remarks, as had Fitzgerald, and they had moved into the question-and-answer phase of the briefing. “I’d like to refer, if I might, to Israel’s recent decision to complete a major arms sale to the Indian government. I assume President Brenneman has had time to reflect on that announcement, and given the sensitive nature of such a transaction, I was wondering if he might have reconsidered his decision to—”

      “Ms. Watkins, I’ve already addressed this,” Fitzgerald interjected. “The president has no intention of interfering with Israel’s foreign affairs, and he’s made it clear to everyone that this is a situation that can only be resolved by dialogue between the affected nations.”

      “By which you mean India and Pakistan.”

      “Yes.”

      “But surely he recognizes the international call for American engagement on this issue, especially since the United States is the largest exporter of arms to Israel in the first place, and now they’re selling off the very weapons we provided them with.”

      Fitzgerald looked down and met the other woman’s insistent gaze, but to her credit, her diplomatic façade didn’t slip an inch. “I hardly think that’s a reasonable statement, Susan, and it’s also a fairly simplistic way of viewing this situation. Israel has a major domestic arms industry, and according to the documents I’ve seen, more than one hundred fifty million dollars of the proposed sale will be used to purchase the Hermes 180 UAV. The Hermes 180, of course, is an unmanned aerial vehicle manufactured by Elbit Systems Ltd., a company based in Haifa. So the Israeli government is well within its right to make that technology salable on the international market. And on a more general note, the proposed sale to India in no way violates Israel’s commitments to the United States on foreign arms sales. If you’ll recall, the standards I’m referring to were drawn up after Israel considered a lesser sale to China in 2004. In that case, there were issues involving the unauthorized sale of sensitive American technology, which doesn’t apply in this situation. And Israel signed a memorandum of understanding to that effect in 2005. To date, they’ve adhered to the letter of that agreement. So, to reiterate, we see no basis for disrupting this sale.”

      “But isn’t it true, Dr. Fitzgerald,” Watkins persisted, “that the Pakistani defense minister sent a letter to the Pentagon asking the United States to reconsider its stance, citing the damage the sale would cause to regional security in South Asia? Mr. Bokhari, if you would care to comment on that also.”

      Fitzgerald didn’t respond for a long moment. Her counterpart turned toward her, awaiting her reaction, and the cameras started clicking away. Petrina winced involuntarily from the sidelines. Although she had an excellent rapport with the diplomats and world leaders she’d met so far, Fitzgerald’s previous position hadn’t prepared her for this kind of exposure. When the cameras were rolling, the slightest hesitation could have disastrous effects, as it automatically fostered the impression that the speaker in question was concocting a lie. Petrina just hoped she had the presence of mind to realize that before she answered the question.

      “I haven’t had the chance to examine that letter,” Fitzgerald finally said. “Nor am I aware of its exact contents, so I can’t—”

      “But you are aware of its existence, correct?” asked another reporter.

      “Yes,” Fitzgerald replied, her voice taking on a sharper edge. “And so is the president. But as I said before, he—”

      “Dr. Fitzgerald, if I may,” her counterpart interrupted. Fitzgerald nodded once, reassuming her neutral expression.

      “Of course, Mr. Bokhari.”

      Malik Bokhari turned back to the reporter who’d posed the question. “It’s true that we have appealed to many American leaders on this matter, not just the president. In fact, President General Musharraf has personally reached out to several influential members of Congress. Obviously, we’re vastly concerned over Israel’s proposed arms sale to India, and the escalating number of soldiers on both sides of the Line of Control is a testament to the dire nature of the situation. Pakistan has no intention of provoking a conflict in the areas of Azad Kashmir, but any further attempts by the Indian government to increase its military readiness will be met in kind, and any incursion on territory controlled by Pakistan will be met with swift and harsh resistance.”

      The silence in the room was deafening as the foreign minister paused to let these words sink in. “I’d like to emphasize the fact that Pakistan has not sought additional arms or munitions since this impending sale was made public. We have no desire to be seen as the aggressors in this situation, and we seek only a return to normal levels of readiness. However, we do not believe that this can happen until India demonstrates its goodwill by canceling the upcoming purchase.”

      Bokhari paused and turned to Fitzgerald. “Do you have anything to add?”

      “No, that’s all.” Fitzgerald appeared slightly shaken, but she offered a tight smile and extended her hand, which the foreign minister took. “Thank you for having me, Mr. Bokhari.”

      “Thank you for coming, Madam Secretary.”

      The press pool erupted in a flurry of questions as both speakers turned away from the crowd and walked to the rear of the room, where a member of Bokhari’s entourage was waiting to open the door. As Fitzgerald followed the minister through, Petrina closed the distance between them smoothly and adjusted the Motorola microphone/receiver system positioned in his right ear, which allowed him to communicate without the use of a PTT (press to talk) button. He was a little shocked by what had just transpired, as it was rare to hear such vitriolic remarks in a public forum, but he couldn’t dwell on the minister’s words. He still had a job to do, and he wouldn’t relax until the secretary was back on the plane and cruising at 35,000 feet. Brynn Fitzgerald’s first official trip as secretary of state had just come to a close.

      “Edsall, this is Petrina. The briefing just finished. Where do we stand?”

      There was a crackle of static over his earpiece, then the reply. “We’re right on schedule. The flight plan is filed, and the plane is fueled up and ready to go. The route is in order.”

      “Chase cars?”

      “They’re in position. We’re waiting on you, over.”

      “Good,” Petrina replied. He glanced over and saw that Fitzgerald was engaging in a few last-minute pleasantries with a member of the Pakistani Secretariat. “She’s finishing up in here. It could be ten. It could be twenty. I’ll let you know. For the moment, just have everyone hold their positions.”

      “Got СКАЧАТЬ