The Fall Of House Farouk

Chapter 10 : A Common Enemy

Chequers

The motorcade passed the metal gates, entering the compound of the country residence of the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. The Beast soon stopped in front of the main entrance of the country estate, and Secret Service agents poured out from the vehicle behind it, posting themselves around me, while the sniper team broke away to sweep the grounds. Once the coast was clear, a Secret Service agent held the door open for me. Camera lenses zoomed in on me and my entourage as we climbed the stairs to meet the British PM. However, it was not to be as a senior Naval Officer greeted me at the door. It was Lord Barclay, First Sea Lord of the British Navy. I have known Lord Barclay only through his reputation as a fearless commander onboard ships such as the HMS Repulse. "Good morning President Reagan." he addressed. 

"Good morning to you Lord Barclay." I returned the greeting. "I trust that the prime minister is well?" 

"Indeed madam." he replies. "She is currently having a meeting session with her cabinet. Prime Minister Grey has instructed me to discuss the war effort, in an informal fashion before she joins for the formal discussion." I nodded and followed the admiral as he went down the long corridor. It reminded me of the situation back home when the invasion of Poland from Kaliningrad reached DC. It was a mess to put it lightly, as phone calls came and went, and generals came in with battle reports. President Choi suffered countless sleepless nights, while I suffered both sleepless nights and sickness because I had become pregnant with Robert. Lord Barclay stopped in front of a room and opened the doors, stepping into the room. 

It is a war room, for strategizing battle decisions and discussing policies. One wall was reserved for an enlarged map of Europe to be hung in the form of a tapestry while another wall displays another enlarged map, this time to be the Middle East. Easels are set to one side, to which sketches of ship designs are propped up, allies and enemies alike. A large table with a thick plate of glass acts as the surface of the table, with a map on display. Model ships were placed on the glass surface, labelled by name and differentiated by colour to distinguish between ally and enemy. My chief of staff set up shop at a nearby table, while the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Mark Yang, familiarised himself at the table. "They've outdone themselves this time ma'am." Mark whispered. "Look at this map, they have their fleets stationed at nearly the same location as our fleet." 

"Indeed." I say. "Lord Barclay?" I ask. The First Sea Lord was quick to come to my side, both Lord Barclay and General Yang stood by the sides of the table. 

"Currently, our fleet in the European theatre is moving towards the Baltic Sea." Lord Barclay reported, pointing the end of the pointer stick at the naval fleet represented by the model ships. "But we anticipated a Russian naval fleet stationed nearby, if our naval intelligence estimation is assumed true." 

"Indeed." I say, my hands perched on the table. "The US Navy has detected the presence of the L.I.Breznev here, leaving the Scottish waters." I added, pointing two fingers at the waters off the coast of Scotland.  "It's a new Borei-class submarine."

"Well, dash my day!" exclaimed Lord Barclay. "So that's the information we have been mucking about lately."

"Yes Lord Barclay." I say. 

"But so far, our satellites only found this submarine in Scottish waters." General Yang said, pointing two fingers in the same direction as I have. "There could be more I say."

"Without a doubt." I say. "But how many submarines do they have out there without our knowledge?" 

"That we do not know." Lord Barclay responded, sounding deadpan. The door to the war room burst open without a knock, and a young man in a naval officer's uniform rushed in, carrying a piece of paper. "Watch your step young man!" Lord Barclay frowned. 

"Sir, the HMS Astute is under attack!" the officer responded. Prime Minister Grey walked in right on time, surrounded by her advisors, military and civilian alike. All of them have grim faces, as if they have known about the attack currently unfolding. 

"Morning President Reagan." she greeted. "I'm afraid that we will have the niceties later on." I nodded, just as our advisors filed the left and right sides of the table. The staff cleared the table completely, leaving us with the blank map beneath the glass plates. Now new model ships are placed on the table, this time at the Caspian Sea. I stood alongside the British PM, as she took centre stage, as the main character in the room. Lord Barclay handed the pointer stick to the waiting officer, which he began his briefing. 

"We have been sailing at a normal speed to patrol the waters of the Persian Gulf and the Caspian Sea, just as an Alvand-class frigate was also nearby." the officer reported. "The attack occurred around five hours ago BST." 

"How's the situation?" the PM asked, trying to steel her nerves should any bad news come through. 

"The good news is that we're still afloat, but they have anti-ship missiles installed." the officer said with a grimace. "We can rule anything out yet, but there is a possibility that they will fire and sink our ship almost instantly." 

"We must sink the ship Madam Prime Minister." Lord Barclay interjected. "If they fire their anti-ship missiles the casualties will undoubtedly mount higher."

"Saving lives is key madam." another advisor interjected. 

"It is not a light decision to be made Lord Barclay." Prime Minister retorted. "But yet I know if we do not sink the boat, the lives of our navy boys onboard will be in danger." 

General Yang, who had been quiet for all this time, cleared his throat. "We have received word from our own fleet in the Mediterranean. Another Alvand-class ship is also on its way to intercept the HMS Astute." The war room also fell into a deathly silence, as I looked at the map. "May I Lord Barclay?" he asked, reaching for a model ship. The First Sea Lord motioned for approval and he rearranged a set of boats, this time a few knots away from the HMS Astute. "One of our attack submarines is following it, but we will need orders if we have to sink the boat." 

"The Iranians are openly hostile to the Americans." I say. "We sink them, they get more public support to go to war against us." 

"But they did sink one of our own with a naval mine." 

"The USS Maine." I say. "But now our priority is the war in the Baltic." I stepped back, evaluating my choices, to sink or not to sink. My aides' gazes are upon me, just as the British PM's aides are upon her. "What is the NSC's response back home?" I asked my chief of staff. 

"They maintained that we strike." he said. 

"And you both?" I ask. Both men nodded, showing their intention to strike as well. I breathed in and out for a few minutes. "Very well." I say. "You have my authorization." My chief of staff departed to inform the Secretary of Defense, who was waiting for the decision to be made. "Don't make me regret this general." 

The British PM herself was also quiet, juggling the decision to strike down the Iranian frigate or not. Her aides watched on with baited breath, as the lives of the sailors onboard HMS Astute were in her hands. "For our boys on the HMS Astute." she said quietly. "Go." she told the officer who brought in the report.