Chapter 48 – The Calm Before the Desert Storm

Time skip to January 1991

[3rd POV]

Artemis and Apollo were in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. Wherever they went, they were stared at by onlookers. Mostly cause of Artemis.

In Saudi Arabia, women needed to travel with a guardian. There was also a dress code and they were restricted from interacting with males who were not close relatives.

Despite the breaking of these rules, nobody stopped Artemis. With them, were General Colin Powell, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, James Baker, the Secretary of State, and William Webster, the Director of the CIA. Artemis and Apollo were in Riyadh as 'advisors,' and nobody in the Arab state could do anything to us for fear of angering the American giant.

Despite this fact, one man was quite angry with the recent developments.

"This is preposterous! You cannot allow these infidels onto our land!" Osama bin Laden yelled at King Fahd bin Abdulaziz Al Saud.

The King was currently in a meeting room, waiting for the American delegation. Also waiting were the delegations from the other countries participating in Operation Desert Storm: the liberation of Kuwait and the following invasion of Iraq. The British, French, German, Egyptian, Syrian delegations (along with others) all looked at the wide-eyed mad man that burst into the room and yelled at the King of Saudi Arabia.

The King was old, 68 years to be precise. He had just had this exact conversation with bin Laden the previous night and didn't like being humiliated in front of all the foreign dignitaries.

Making a small hand signal, he indicated his guards to do something. Two members of the Saudi Arabian Royal Guard grabbed bin Laden and dragged him out while he continued to shout at the top of his lungs.

As he was being pulled out of the room, he witnessed the American delegation approaching. Locking eyes with a particular redhaired devil, he immediately shut his mouth, shook off the guards holding him, and stormed off in another direction.

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[Main POV]

I watched the most wanted man of the 21st century walk away. His time would come. Not really my problem to be honest.

I was focused on the matter at hand. A couple months ago, the UN Security Council passed Resolution 678, authorizing the use of force against Iraq if it does not withdraw from Kuwait by January 15th, 1991.

The deadline was a few days away. The final round of diplomatic negotiations in Geneva had broken down. At this point, the war was happening, and the ground campaign was inevitable.

"The Iraqi army is formidable, the fourth largest in the world," General Powell started. "They'll be ready for our attack, and our intelligence estimates about 600,000 soldiers mobilized on the border between Iraq and Saudi Arabia."

CIA Director Webster nodded in agreement. The other participants whispered amongst themselves.

"However, in Operation Desert Shield, we've mobilized one million personnel, and are ready to strike," Powell continued before laying pointing to the large map on the table. "Furthermore, Iraqis use materials of low quality, with old Soviet tanks. They'll be no match for our Abrams."

"But most importantly," Powell paused, catching everyone's attention, "the Iraqis will not be prepared for our overwhelming power."

He pointed to marked locations. "We'll start with a massive bombing campaign of strategic targets like radar stations, and other air defenses structures, along with other infrastructure. After 6 weeks of bombing, we'll move out with our ground forces. It'll be a two-pronged assault: one into Kuwait, and the other into southern Iraq. We'll hit them with speed and overwhelming firepower. Considering most of the Iraqis are conscripts, we expect to break them easily."

"What's the estimated time and cost?" the British Foreign Secretary asked.

"We estimate that we will be victorious in a few weeks to a couple of months. As for expected casualties, we estimate a few thousand at most."

This answer caused another round of discussions. I heard many comments about the plan being too optimistic.

"Feldmarshal Apollo," the General from the German delegation spoke. "What are your thoughts about this plan?"

Everyone turned towards me. Looking closer, I realized the General was the same guy from the Berlin Revolution. His uniform had a couple extra stars and medals since I had last seen him.

Meanwhile, the American delegation looked less than pleased. CIA Director Webster was looking away (as usual), Secretary of State James Baker was staring at me like he was trying to shoot lasers out of his eyes, and General Powell was giving me the nastiest side-eye I had ever received.

"I concur with everything General Powell has said," I stated, "all the intelligence has been discovered or confirmed by Apollo Enterprises."

Starting with the German delegation, everyone started voicing their support for the plan. Webster, Baker, and Powell breathed a sigh of relief. Well, my job here was done.

.

After the conference, the King of Saudi Arabia invited everyone back to one of his palaces for a 'party.'

Not a party with cheap pizza, beer pong, and sex in every room (except the one room that the host says is off limits).

This party had finger food, an in-person orchestra, and sophisticated conversations. By sophisticated conversations, I mean everyone verbally circle-jerking each other, or trash talking an absent individual.

Artemis and I were spent most of our time with the German delegation (at their insistence). General Klaus (the name of the German general) was talking about his participation in the Potsdam Charge (trying to impress the daughters of the French diplomats).

Just as he was getting to the good part, Artemis and I were approached by a server.

"Excuse me, Field Marshal, General," the server said timidly, standing so that I was in-between him and Artemis, "his majesty would like to speak with you."

Handing our drinks to the server, we made our way to a VIP lounge. Around the table was the Saudi King, CIA Director Webster, and a few other officials and generals.

"Field Marshal Apollo," King al Saud greeted, "I hope you are enjoying the party."

"Yes, it is acceptable," I simply stated before Artemis and I sat next to Webster. The CIA Director shifted away from us. How rude.

"We were just discussing the emergence of an organization called 'Al-Qaeda,'" Webster explained, "most of the members were formerly part of the Mujahideen in Afghanistan."

"The ones you funded?" I asked while looking at Webster.

"That's classified, how'd you –"

"The Mujahideen used old American equipment in Afghanistan," Artemis explained. "It's pretty obvious the CIA would fund the enemy of the Soviet Union."

"Which brings us to the topic at hand," King al Saud said while looking at me. "We hoped they would fight for us in Iraq, but they refused to fight with a non-Muslim force. And from a conversation I had earlier, it appears their leader, one Osama bin Laden has encountered Artemis in Afghanistan. Apollo, does Artemis have any thoughts regarding bin Laden?"

I looked at Artemis before looking back at the King. "Why're you asking me? She's right there…" King al Saud suddenly found the nearby wall very interesting. I saw Webster facepalm. Oh, I forgot what country I was in.

"The last time I saw bin Laden, he was a sad, pathetic man – one that is barely deserving of such a word," Artemis said, saving me from my embarrassment. "I spared his life because I personally believe people should kill other people in wars. Not harmless animals. If he were included in Operation Desert Storm, he would only be a hindrance."

Harmless animal? Those two words rang out in my mind. I looked around, seeing everyone else nodding along with her statement. God damn it, I was the only one who knew about 9/11.

"Do you want my personal opinion, your highness?" I asked.

Webster looked like he wanted to shut me up, but the King appeared to be in a good mood and indicated me to continue.

"bin Laden and his followers are currently in a hotel about 4 blocks south of here," I said. Webster's eyebrows jumped. King al Saud's face suddenly became stone cold.

"I suggest," I continued, "that you deploy your royal guard, surround the hotel, storm it, and kill them all."

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AN: Never been to Saudi Arabia. So I can't vouch for the accuracy of anything in this chapter.

Next up: Operation Desert Storm