
Washingtoff, Murca
The White Dwelling
"The captain is sick, sir.", the National Security Mang commented.
"I can see that", Teddy jabbed his finger in the report on his desk, "I won't comment on the utter and complete shame that letting this man command an attack submarine brought us. Just how incompetent was the Ironhowler administration?"
The rhethorical question remained unanswered. Captain Joe Blower's psychiatric evaluation shocked everyone: the man had apparently thought he was on a war patrol against Thanasian merchant shipping, and that the Salvation War never ended. And now, since torpedoing a ship in somebody's national waters is generally frowned upon, the world was on the brink of nuclear war.
"Throw him to the wolves", the President declared, "I don't care if he's mentally ill ; The Zenobians demand blood."
"Actually, sir, while I absolutely admire your capability to make tough decisions in a time of crisis, I believe that is not all."
"Listen, James, you know I dislike these little bombs you like to drop on me. We have national security briefings in the morning so that you can tell me in advance what to expect."
The Mang blushed a bit, "I apologize, but the note was just delivered from the Zenobian embassy. The Zenobians demand a return of all their citizens that have been, uh, abducted by the Hard and Rigid."
Teddy snorted. Some of his advisors did the same.
"Abducted? They were a bunch of political prisoners!"
"We know that, but the Zenobians claim they were innocent travellers. Their ambassador said it is not negotiable."
"Well, fuck them. We already apologized and will punish the people responsible, but I'm not repatriating those people!"
Suddenly, one of the phones on the President's desk rang. He picked up quickly, since it was the Crimson Phone - not quite as important as the Red one right next to it, but still very, very bad when it rang.
"This is the President. Yes...no. Tell them to stand down. Only if there's a confirmed detonation. Yes, you heard me right."
Teddy replaced the handset with a slightly trembling hand, "NORAD says they've detected a missile launch in Zenobia."
There was silence. The President picked up the Red phone, which connected him directly to the Zenobian Premier.
"Premier Shroomanski, we have just detected a missile launch from your territorry. I have to be blunt: is this an attack?"
Everyone in the Ovaltine office froze, listening intently. The tinny voice coming from the headset was impossible to understand, though, so they had to wait. Seconds passed, as the President exchanged half-words with the Premier.
"Listen up, Stas. I am not...listen to me! I am not giving you those people. My electorate would..."
The Premier unleashed a long tirade at that. One of the generals left the office to take a call, and returned very agitated.
"No, you listen to me! You know perfectly well there's no damn missile or bomber gap! The SAC has enough weapons to wipe you out, and there's not a damn thing you could do about it!"
Teddy frowned, "Hardball, eh?"
There was more angry talk from the premier. The National Security Mang tried to hug the agitated general, obviously not able to bear the stress.
"How about that. You get your people back, and we get our pilots."
The tone of the talk changed slightly. People began to relax.
"Under the table. But you stand down your forces as a gesture of goodwill."
The President put down the phone after another minute or so. His face was weary and sad.
"Gentlemen, I have received assurances that Zenobia would be willing to stand down and release our spy plane pilots and...covert operatives they are holding in exchange for the prisoners brough here aboard the Hard and Rigid."
"That...", the agitated general began, "...is a really good deal, Mr. President."
"These people are political prisoners, Bill."
"So are our pilots."
There was more silence and heavy looks, before the President made another hard call.
"Send them back."
Throughout the country, telephones began to ring, and armed FBI agents entered several homes. One of these phones rang on THE CAPE, in the lavish office temporarily occupied by Dr. Sam Francisco, Acting Director of MASA.
"Dr Francisco, this is Dick Fisher of the FBI. Your man Drago has applied for asylum, and has been denied. Consider him a foreign national and detain him in his quarter until my men can come and collect him for extradition to Zenobia. These orders come straight from the top."