Incoming Friendly

INCOMING FRIENDLY

by Stephen Francis Montagna

This novel explores the fact inventions created to protect us against errors, can be used to destroy the defense the invention was designed to protect, by terrorists who are hell bent on destroying our great country and freedom!!!!

PROLOGUE

WASHINGTON DC, 10:30 AM EST WEDNESDAY,
JANUARY 3rd, 2001 – THE WHITE HOUSE

President Albert Cole, a Republican leader elected to his second term as President of the United States just recently, was all smiles and extremely pleased as he waved pleasantly to the gathered news reporters, and the cameras set up inside the press greeting room as he headed for the dais in the East Wing of the White House, where this morning’s press conference was scheduled to be held. Waiting patiently in the over packed room to hear every word the popular young President of the United States said, were the news reporters from all over the world. The great seal of the United States was set properly on the front of the small podium, as the president took the step leading to the slightly raised platform and the dais.

Most of the American and many friendlier news reporters from the allied nations affiliated with the United States, were all seated towards the front of the large meeting room. So they could easily be picked on by the thoroughly exhausted looking American leader, so they could ask their questions of the president, once he finished with his prewritten speech, and then he offered a ten minute question and answer time at the end of the news conference as he usually did at the end of all his speeches. The room was packed to overflowing with the excited news reporters and the flood of cameras inside the room and filming him.

The American president was forced to shield his eyes from the harsh glare coming from the exploding flash bulbs aimed threateningly at him. He hated this part of his responsibility to the office he controlled. Every time he was assaulted by the sea of flash bulbs from the cameras, and the screaming questions by the excited news reporters, President Albert Cole most always ended up with a pounding headache for the rest of the day. No matter what he tried to relieve the pounder for himself. The instant the reporters saw the president heading for the podium, shouts quickly flooded the room, and they echoed throughout the hallway leading into the East Wing of the White House.

President Cole took the podium and again he shaded his eyes from the harsh glare of the lights and flash bulbs. He drew in his breath in an attempt to calm his rattled nerves. Albert Cole seem to be stalling, and none of the reporters could understand the reason why. This wasn’t how the president usually held his conferences. Most times the youngish American president got right down to the point, and he said what he had to say then answered a few pointed questions and he quickly disappeared. But on one of the most important days for America’s future, the president seemed to be stalling for time.

When the President of the White House took the podium, he wanted to speak right off, but he knew he had to hesitate until his guest finally arrived, and he stood by his side. He hated stalling like he was, undestanding the reporters could see he was hesitating, and he didn’t like it in the least. Albert Cole cursed under his breath as he walked down the East Wing hall with the new Iraqi Prime Minister, Namir Al-Hojou, when the minister suddenly announced he had to go to the bathroom. President Cole knew he was suffering from butterflies in his stomach. He recognized how Al-Hojou turned green when he asked him to attend the press conference the other day. The younger president glanced up to the ceiling, thinking the air-conditioner wasn’t working because he was sweating. President Cole didn’t realize how much heat was being given off from the many lights of the cameras. The Chief of Staff of the White House, Peter Waters saw the glance by the upset looking president, and he snuck up to the podium and whispered in the president’s ear.

“Mister President Sir, I’m afraid the air-conditioner is on full blast already for you sir.” Peter had to bend his head to hear the words the president whispered back to him in a harsh tone.

“It doesn’t feel like it’s working on full blast Peter. I’m sweating to death already dammit; make a memo for me please. The next press conference I hold, I want to stick a load of ice cubes down the front of my god damn shorts for myself before I begin it mister. Where the hell is this fricking Iraqi Prime Minister at any how god dammit? He has me swinging out here like a damn fish out of water for the love of God.”

“I assure you sir he’s coming as quickly as he can get here sir. I left guards at the bathroom door sir. They’ll escort him when the Minister attended to his business Mister President.” Peter offered as he chuckled over the president’s last remark aimed at him.

“Why don’t you do me a favor and see if you can light a little fire under his god damn ass for me, and try and get him out here a little quicker than he’s moving, will ya please Peter.” The American President snapped at him as he let out his breath in a rush this time.

“Yes Sir Mister President Sir.” Peter left and he rushed to the bathroom and found the rather green looking Al-Hojou heaving in the toilet bowl.

The young and scared Presidential aide felt terrible for the terrified looking Arab politician as he poked his head out of the bathroom and told a security guard to get a female attended to help with the Prime Minister of Iraq’s problem. As Peter issued the order, the Prime Minister suddenly walked up behind Peter and he rested his hand lightly on his shoulder. Then he offered to the young aide pleasantly, but in a heavy Arab accent. “Young man of whose name I fear I do not know sir. I assure you I am fine now, shall we go and greet the reporters of your fine country, and the rest of the world sir?” Prime Minister Al-Hojou said with a smile on his lips to the concerned looking assistant.

Peter stared at the man; he could see the sick still clouding his face as he offered to him. “Prime Minister Al-Hojou Sir, my name’s Peter Waters sir, and I’m regular staff at the White House sir. Are you certain you’re okay and well enough to speak to the news reporters’ sir?” Peter wouldn’t tell the Iraqi Prime Minister there were news reporters from all over the world gathered in the room he was going to take him to.

“Khara, (shit) I fear I am as good as I am going to get for today young man. I was not born to exist in the most confusing politician’s terrestrial sphere. This world is completely new to me, and it also scared me to death, Mister Peter Waters Sir.” The Iraqi politician remarked with a slight smile on his lips, but his body still trembled slightly from all of the fear that he was suffering through with meeting all of the new reporters of the world.

“Please Prime Minister Al-Hojou Sir; allow me to be the first man to launch you on your new career, sir.” Peter offered kindly to the Iraqi politician, as he waved his hand out before them, and together they both headed off for the waiting press conference.

“I would dearly enjoy that for myself Peter. I shall pray to the Almighty Allah that you do not mind that I took the liberty upon myself to address you with your first name, when addressing you, Mister Waters Sir.” The new Prime Minister from Iraq replied to the and rather concerned looking young man pleasantly.

“That is fine with me Prime Minister Al-Hojou Sir, but shall we get a little step on it for ourselves at this time sir. I believe President Cole and the rest of the people of the world are waiting patiently to hear the words you have to offer them at this press conference sir. I can tell you from many of my past experiences with any of the news reporters and my boss sir that our President is not fond of being kept waiting for longer than is absolutely necessary Prime Minister Al-Hojou Sir.” The young aide offered to the Iraqi Prime Minister pleasantly as he tried to get the Iraqi politician moving a little faster for himself. Waters was getting a little more than concerned about the amount of time that the Iraqi Prime Minister was using up on them, in order to get out to the waiting American President, and all of the news reporters who were all waiting for his appearance.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my son, Stephen F. Montagna Jr., who supported my work with the novel from beginning to end. Without his backing, I doubt this work would have been completed.

This book is especially dedicated to one of those exceptional men and women. Heroes in their actions to save other people’s lives. ‘A hero is defined by ones willingness to lay down his or her life for people who will never know’. One such hero is RICK RESCORLA who worked for Morgan Stanley, and he joined the proud list of heroes during the Nine, One, One, terrorist attack on the Twin Towers. He is in extraordinary company with outstanding police officers and firefighters who gave up their lives in this cowardly attack in the aid of others!

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my son, Stephen F. Montagna Jr., who supported my work with the novel from beginning to end. Without his backing, I doubt this work would have been completed.

This book is especially dedicated to one of those exceptional men and women. Heroes in their actions to save other people’s lives. ‘A hero is defined by ones willingness to lay down his or her life for people who will never know’. One such hero is RICK RESCORLA who worked for Morgan Stanley, and he joined the proud list of heroes during the Nine, One, One, terrorist attack on the Twin Towers. He is in extraordinary company with outstanding police officers and firefighters who gave up their lives in this cowardly attack in the aid of others!

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