"The Girlfriend of the Whirling Dervish…"
Summary: Nearing her wedding day, Amy is reminded of a previous engagement…Follows the action of "Gran Mag", pre "The Wolowitz Enigma"…
Disclaimer: It's all Chuck's…But nothing for Joss Whedon on this one.
Part III…
Office of the First DPM, Drharain…
"What is the latest report on the worthless traitor of a dog's posterior-kissing tool of the infidels…?" a grim-looking bearded youthful figure in simple white shirt and trousers with headdress, arms folded, eyed the DPM seated behind his massive desk…Though not so massive or grand as that of the prime minister and heir…
Real power not needing to be showy…
"Are you addressing me as if you feel entitled to give orders here, young man?..." DPM Hamid al Bajahd distinguishedly grey-haired, in impeccably tailored Western suit frowned… "I trust you realize I could and should have you shot after or during torture…Particularly if your scandalous words refer to His Majesty…"
"Please…I embody our people's spirit of jihad…Make no idle threats or prepare for the afterlife…"
"If you truly wish a quick death…" the DPM reached for his desk buzzer… "But you throw away a chance to turn the global tidal once and for all in our favor…"
"Your policy of appeasing these Americans makes our stomachs churn with rage, our blood boil…It is an insult to the memory of our divinely inspired glorious leader…"
"Yes…" Hamid, thin smle… "Well, the glorious leader is currently lying in several pieces at the bottom of the Pacific…And you are the what?...Fifth replacement since…?"
"Sixth…My predecessor was gloriously martyred last week while driving a truck of death upon our enemies…"
"Oh, yes…He didn't quite make it, if I recall the story on the BBC…"
"He died the glorious death of a martyr, regardless…"
"A hands-on sort, how laudable…Easy enough to achieve…If you prefer such histrionics to real success…"
The tools one must sometimes work with…he sighed internally…
"You promised to deliver this benighted land of darkness into the Light of our guidance…" the young man fumed… "But we hear you continue to consort with the Americans and the young bastard dog of a prince is poised to not only take the throne but to bring in an American wife…Who doubtless will rule for the Americans…"
"And she's part-Jewish I understand…" Hamid…Barely repressing a grin…
So easy to get these fellows to sputtering near-coronary state…He eyed the now red-faced young man, briefly tuning out his torrent of invective…
"Finished?..." he asked, politely…But keeping one hand near buzzer, other near desk drawer containing loaded gun…The boy might have been disarmed and checked for explosives before being allowed to enter but never can tell just how crazy these type can get…
"You have betrayed us all!..." sputter…
"Hardly, my young friend…It's you and your organization's foolish propensity for violence that has left us helpless before the Americans…" Hamid rose… "Shall I tell you...Tissue?..." he offered the sputtering ranter a box of tissue to wipe the said sputter from his beard… "…how to defeat the Western powers?..."
"Endless jihad and blissful martyrdom…Everyone knows that…"
"Your imans and trainers must be working for the CIA…" Hamid chucked… "Just what do such means get us?…Headlines on CNN for a day or two and a generation of young potential leaders…And followers…Dead…The Americans couldn't do better if they nuked us and hot-topped over the radioactive remains…Young man, what power is the first to successfully confront the United States, and I don't mean the one who imploded in 1991, and give the West true cause to quail?..."
The replacement All-Powerful Leader stared…
My, the ranks must be getting thin…Hamid sighed internally…
"China, my boy…A nation on the rise that now increasingly can bend the West to its will…Without war…Without even a single suicide bomber…And to the benefit of its people…Without American domination…"
"China?...They have surrendered to the West…"
"Hardly…They've learnt to play the game and are beating the Westerners at it…We must do likewise…My friend…What greater, what more real victory for us could there be than one day peacefully foreclosing on the White House…Owning control of all major Western corporations…Using our economic power to force our ways upon the West and having its people eager to accept in order to enjoy the benefits of dealing with us…That, my boy, is true and lasting victory…Permanent victory…And it starts with our securing control of Drharain under the very noses of the Americans…With their eager cooperation and assistance in fact…"
"Compromise!...Shameful!..."
A small place in the dustbin of History for this one I see…
"When the king dies…Allah pardon him…The young prince will take the throne under my guidance…With fervent American support and even enthusiastic praise for his conciliatory and reformist ways…"
"We will never allow…!" Hamid put up a hand to interrupt…
"He will marry his American bride and as is his intent, bring her before the people as a symbol of his desire to modernize and reform the nation…Seeking reconciliation with the world…She will be the living proof to the Americans that Drharain is safely in their hands…And while our 'golden couple' make their parades and speeches and tours…We will establish Drharain as a secure base…"
The All-Powerful paused in mid-sputter…Hmmn?...
Ah, I see all hope in the next generation is not lost…A glimmer of reason… Hamid nodded…
"Yes…The West will have total faith in us…We will have access to their intelligence in ways that will make Pakistan's military's duplicitous game of the past twenty years look shabby…And all the while our organization can work in secret…Safe…"
Safe in my dungeons once I get you all collected…Those who cannot see the light of following the Chinese path making fine tokens of my good faith for the CIA…
"Well…It was useful to have secure bases in Pakistan…Till the corrupt military decided we were too much of a liability…" the young man reflected…
I must hire some Pakistani generals for our military once the prince is king, for sure…Hamid thought…Such practical men are exactly what we need…
"You all right?..." the lovely, elderly blonde-haired with elegant silver streaks, woman eyed her husband, a tall, lean, white-haired figure seated next to her in their rental car…
"I'm getting too old for this…I don't like having to travel for the job…" he sighed…
"Don't be an old man…Broadens the mind…If you're getting this cranky, this is probably exactly what you needed…"
"Eh…" he shrugged, raising hands in futile gesture…
"Now, now…Come on, Martin…It's a chance to see the kids again…I can't wait to see how Amy and Sheldon are doing…" she beamed…Eyeing the road carefully…"He must be so excited by this long train trip…You know how he loves trains…"
"I just don't see we had to shlep all the way out to the middle of nowhere, Middle America…" Martin frowned… "We couldn't just phone in a report…Do a conference call?..."
"They wanted to see us direct…" the woman pursed lips…Peering down the long, rather empty road in the midst of cornfields…Endless cornfields…
"Yeah…But why?...Barb, what's suddenly so important they have to drag us out to such a swell place to dump two elderly corpses to meet some fellow?..." Martin shook head…
"Now there's a positive image…Thanks…"
"Well…" he shrugged… "Something's not right…"
"Exactly why I was willing to come…" Barbara nodded…Eyeing him briefly… "Something strange is up here and I want to know…"
"Maybe that vixen from France…She was trouble, like I tole you…"
"I guess…Sad kid, really…" Barbara shook head… "Poor thing was so in love with Sheldon…I wept reading your report…But she's back in France…"
"Well, alls' well that ended with everyone alive…" he reflected… "Barney and I really thought we might have to intervene that time…That was one determined girl…"
"Well, good thing Amy thought of calling in Dr. Fowler-Horowitz…I knew Margaret would set things right…She was always such a fine consultant back in the old days…" Barbara smiled…
"Lights…" Martin noted…Seeing headlights blinking a short distance up the road… "I'd say we're here…"
"Hmmn-hmm…" Barbara turned the car to the side of the road…Stopping and setting brake…Pulling out purse…
"Barb?..." Martin eyed the small pistol she was checking…
"Just in case, honey…And I'd be sure your spare is secure in the sensor-proof pocket…I'd prefer not to be dumped in these fields…"
"Already did…" smile… "I didn't care for cornfield burial either…"
"You're always so in synch with me, babe…" she grinned… "That why we've worked out so well together…" she opened her door…He getting out as well…Both carefully stepping to a spot where the car offered some protection from the car just down the road…
"Mr. and Mrs. B…Nice to see you…" the young man from Stirling's briefing smiled at them… "Glad to see you could make the time…"
"Collins…" Martin nodded…Awaiting…
"Oh, yes…Sorry…" Collins felt for a packet… "I know you like to follow the old protocol…Here ya go…" he handed the packet… Martin taking it and opening to find a clipped-together packet of sheets, several photos and a tape…Barbara pulling a cassette player out of her purse as Collins stood watching…
"Nice shot of Amy…" Barbara noted, eyeing photo…
Martin placed the tape in the player and turned it on, carefully setting it on their car's engine hood…
"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Bain…" the tape began…