NationStates Jolt Archive

The New White House, J City

Few people had seen the New White House this busy. The four hundred staff who usually worked in the building were now sharing it with three hundred additional, albeit temporary, admin staff. Most of them were working in the large Banquet Hall, putting up decorations or arranging furniture for the State banquet tonight. Those not there were hovering the carpets, cleaning the walls, or performing any number of tasks to make the building appear to be the best in the world.

The Banquet Hall itself was a massive room that took up most of the ground and first floors of the West Wing of the building. Normally used for functions such as this, the Hall still needed sprucing up according to the President. And so the walls were adorned with famous paintings from the Clarksonian museum and other national treasures; the Sword of Hero’s had its own roped off enclosure near the main entrance. Inside, the stage had already been prepared. Three huge flags hung from the ceiling at the rear wall, behind where the respective leaders would be seated. The stripes of the USIH, the blue red and white of the Holy Empire of Stevid, and the purple, black and tan of the Principality of Damirez. Numerous flag poles around the room carried one or other of the flags and by the steps leading up to the Presidents Private Rooms there were further large versions of the flags suspended from the ceiling to about twelve feet above the first step.

Security was tight. Three heads of state, numerous members of their governments and almost all of the Hitmen administration would be in attendance. Secret Service personnel were setting up extra metal detectors and X-Ray machines at the building entrances whilst a full company of Marines were guarding the outer perimeter of the building. Army Rifle Corps snipers were in place on the roof and roofs of other buildings in the area to supplement the Secret Service teams and Diplomatic Security Service agents were being briefed on their part in the proceedings. Outside the perimeter the J City Police were heavily deployed to prevent protests or people attempting to break in and disrupt the ceremony.

The three leaders and their families wouldn’t be staying in the New White House; they would in fact be staying at the Presidential summer retreat about twenty miles outside the sprawling capital. Here there were yet more Marines, Secret Service and police in evidence. The entire area was cordoned off, with helicopters and roving Army Special Forces patrols to keep out intruders, the most likely of whom would be anti-armament protestors looking for publicity.

President Anderson would meet the two heads of state at Neito Air Force Base, from there helicopters would ferry them to the Presidential retreat and then again onto the State dinner in the evening. Prime Minister Conroy and the Damiran leader Liviu Librescu had both been invited to stay on for a few days of informal talks and recreational activities. The go-karting tracks, paintballing centres and vineyards in the area had all been alerted.


In his bedroom at the summer retreat, President James Anderson was preparing himself for the day ahead. His suit was newly pressed and the collar of his shirt had been starched out of existence so that it would stay perfectly still even if involved in a force ten hurricane, or so he thought. He had shunned a tie today, whenever he could get away without wearing one he did, the air was particularly warm for this time of year and in the sun the temperature was topping out at 30 degrees celcius.

With an ironic wink at himself in the mirror the President moved out of his bedroom and into the lavishly decorated corridor, slipping his polished shoes on as he closed the door. Opposite his door was his Presidential portrait, an altogether strange arrangement that had forever baffled him. Seeing oneself early in the morning in a life size picture was always disconcerting to him. The thought didn’t stay in his head for very long, he nodded to the nearest Secret Service agent who spoke into his lapel microphone to inform the household that the President was on the move. As the President walked along the corridor to the stairs several Agents followed him; it seemed that a President couldn’t ever do anything alone, not even walk to breakfast.

His shoes made a loud noise on the solid oak staircase that led downstairs to the main dining room. Unlike many people’s homes it had room for fifty guests and was the size of a normal home in most of the country. Breakfast was arrayed on the table in the family kitchen, completely different from the basement kitchens from where the food was prepared. The marble work surfaces and wooden cupboards had been expressly designed by the President’s wife, because she had nothing else to do or so the staff joked. James picked up a copy of the J City Times from the rack and motioned for the Secret Service agents in the room to have some of the huge spread. He selected a glass of cooled orange juice and a tray of toast with strawberry jam, moving it to the head of the table and sitting there. He looked to the attendant who was standing by the door.

“Jeff, lets put on my normal morning song please. I fancy the Rod Stewart version today.”

“Yes Mr President. I would prefer Mr Armstrong’s, for a change.”

“I’m sure you would Jeff. However you are not me.”

“No sir, that I am not. Mr Stewart it is.”

The man left the room and a few seconds later the soft piano intro for A Wonderful World began. The speakers were hidden all around the room and the President turned the sound up from the remote on the table. He leant back in the chair, hands behind his head with his eyes closed, and smiled. It was a wonderful world.

Five pieces of toast and two glasses of orange juice later the familiar sound of rotor blades began to fill the room as a pair of Blackhawks materialised in the distance. The President checked his watch and looked at the Secret Service Agent who was standing near the patio doors.

“Is that my lift already?”

“No Sir, it’s your intelligence briefing. Colonel Waters had to stay late at the Department so he came by chopper today.”

“Oh. Fun fun fun. Give me a sneak peak?”

“Macabeean rumblings, AMF posturing and Alleanean suicide I would think Sir.”

“Heh...well thank you George. I suspect you are right, although you missed out the inevitable nothing is afoot in the North. Tell Waters that I’ll meet him in my study, I wanna call the missus briefly.”


Two hours later the President walked out onto the lawn. Three blackhawks were waiting, rotors already turning. He got into the first one along with half a dozen Secret Service agents and a pair of his aides. The Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs boarded another with his own entourage and a section of Marines were already firmly seated in the third. After a failed assassination attempt three years earlier there was no such thing as over cautious in the eyes of the Secret Service. With his headset now on, the President could listen in to the command channels and the pilot could talk directly to him.

“Good Morning Mr President. How are you today?”

“I’m fine thank you Chris. And how is my brother?”

“Ahh you know, little soar in my knee. Winds are favourable so we should be there a few minutes early. Same reason that our guests will also be a few late.”

“Mmm hmmm. Whats our ETA?”

“About thirty two minutes. Just enough time for you to read some of those juicy reports I bet.”

There followed a long laugh as the President’s younger brother looked at the co-pilot and then back to the instrument panel. In the jump seat the President didn’t share the humour as one of his aides handed him a large sheaf of briefing papers, entitled Legislation on the effects of increasing growth rates with regards the length of corn on the cob and the pricing affects on the economy as a whole. Maybe it isn’t such a wonderful world after all.


Forty two skim read pages later and the chopper touched down at Neito Air Force Base. Once a base for hundreds of bombers, it was now a fighter station with six squadrons that barely filled half of the huge underground hangars. Official government aircraft were based in several others, but still some of the cavernous structures remained empty. The reason for the lack of bombers was simple. The most secret of IH aircraft couldnt be based somewhere that was no in effect in the middle of the capital city. Originally five miles outside the city limits the rapid expansion meant that anybody in the highrise apartment blocks could have used binoculars to see the IHAF's latest and greatest. So the bombers had moved elsewhere; there wasnt a shortage of Air Force Bases in the country, and todays arrivals would only take up a fraction of the available room.

Crowds of civilians and base personnel had gathered to see the arrivals. It had been strategically leaked to the press that the two leaders were coming to sign a triple alliance and bring the three countries closer together. Many held Hitmen flags whilst others flew those of Stevid and Damirez to welcome the guests. The Hitmen were particularly obliging to friends and many knew the face of Prime Minister Conroy as well as they knew that of their own leader.


The Air Force was putting on a bit of a show for the crowds whilst they waited in the every increasing temperatures. F-30 Shinden-II fighters rocketed overhead, flying protective patterns of the base and the city that surrounded it. The sleek fighters carried live missiles and the pilots were authorised to engage any aircraft that approached the perimeter without proper clearance, but to the crowds below they were just a symbol of Hitmen military power just as the armed Marines were that kept the crowds back.

Secret Service agents were already in place near the helipads and yet more Blackhawks and Knighthawks were landing to ferry the various dignitaries to the arrival ceremony. With the rotors on his brothers Blackhawk now stopped, the President stepped out and moved towards the lines of press that were being restrained by chest high metal barriers and military police. Having fun with the press was one of the Presidents hobbies; he frequently persuaded them that he was about to invade some country or other and most gullably took it half seriously. He could have fun whilst he waited for the others to arrive.

No. 65 Lowlands Road, Stevid

“This has been a long time coming.” Said Prime Minister David Conroy, he briskly walked into the large leaving room while reading a stapled piece of paper.

“What has been honey?” Michaela Conroy, his wife, asked in reply as she folded the corner of the page she was reading of her book. She had been married with David for so long now she could read his facial expression as easily as the book she had been skimming through a few moments ago, he looked and sounded in a good mood and thus had good news to tell.

“We have an invitation to the United States of Independent Hitmen my dear. I know its not the first time I’ve said that but this time is a lot different. While Stevid and the United States are not officially allies despite working together so much, it is common practice, even polite, to make even the most obvious friendships in the world official.”

“You mean an alliance is finally going to be signed?” Michaela said with a wide smile and a very enthusiastic voice. She’d always loved Independent Hitmen as a country on a whole. The people were naturally friendly, J City had some of the best shopping complexes in the known world and it always seemed to have a pleasant summer climate whenever she visited. Unlike Stevid of course which was battered by winds and foul whether almost every month of the year. Michaela had always wanted Stevid and IH to make things official, to tell the world of their friendship, to advertise to a war torn world that great things and good deeds could still be achieved. She knew that in the following week history would be made.

“Yes, in the next few days Stevid and Independent Hitmen will turn an informal friendship into a formal alliance.” He held up hand. “It gets better though. It is primarily a political and military alliance but it seems that both our countries have another thing in common… we chose the same friends independently. Damirez is also going to be present at these informal talks and all three states will sign a pact that will make us all allies. A Triple Alliance.”

“That’s great news!” Michaela yelped as she placed her book on the large coffee table next to her cup of tea and leaned round on the sofa to look at her husband properly. David put the invitation down on a desk and walked over to her with a smile on his face. He hadn’t been this happy since Damirez and Stevid had signed a deal to cooperate and pool resources in developing space technology to both enhance the civilian and military sectors of the space industry in both countries. He sat down next to her and kissed her softly on the lips.

“We have to leave quickly though, six hours. Just enough time for you to get everything you need for the week ahead. The kids can’t come, they have school but Auntie Bridie can handle them. I just know you can’t turn down a trip to the United States.
How’s ‘Pride and Prejudice’?” He said glancing at the book. She kissed him again to get his full attention.

“Half boring, it must be the hundredth time I’ve read the book.” She got up and made for the door that led onto the main corridor and the main staircase. “I’ll tell the children and start getting ready to pack. Oh! What about the Cabinet?”

“I just came from the Cabinet Meeting, the Home Secretary, the Foreign Secretary, Defence Minister, Minister to the Holy Empire, and the Cabinet Secretary will be attending also. MI6 will obviously coming along, private security and I think the Metropolitan Police have sent some representatives to Independent Hitmen to help organised things, it would be nice to see a few Stevidian Bobby’s over there- they’ve always cooperated well in the past. We even have members of their police over here to help combat terrorism in the Capital’s international airport. Go on love, get packing. Knowing you you’ll be using the next five and half just to pick three party dresses.”

He winked at her as she scowled playfully at him before striding out of the living room. He lay back on the soft, peach coloured sofa and wondered just how great this alliance would be for all three nations. One of them had proven to be such a key ally in the War of Golden Succession that without them the war might still be going on or worse, be being fought on home soil with Macabee flags flying just outside the capital. Damirez was another close friend but very new to Stevid’s friendship books and had already soared to the top ten most liked nations in Stevid after a recent public opinion poll on international relations. Damirez had been the one to suggest cooperation in space, a new military and civilian space station, a revamp on all the military satellites that now provided both countries with a huge missile defence/offence net that spanned a sizeable portion of the planet, there were plans to colonise the moon in the next several years and harvest H3 there and long term plans included manned missions to Mars and a joint military space fleet (while still using quite primitive weapons- it would still quite a step forward to have an actual space fleet). Now with Independent Hitmen thrown into the mix they would also have their space assets combined and this triple alliance would be one of the most powerful collections of nations in the world. The missile defence grid alone would be enough to dissuade attackers from launching ICBMs or IRBMs, the offensive capability the three countries possessed in space alone could remove a country from the map. This joining would be nothing but beneficial to all parties involved. Sure there would have to be a lot of money thrown at it but all three states had the resources to cope with it.

He got off the sofa, walked towards the mini-bar and poured himself a scotch. He looked out the window of his upstairs living room of Number 65 Lowlands Road, almost at the heart of Stevid Capita. His view of the whole city was almost completely blocked by the row of houses on the other side of the street and beyond that was Parliament and hundreds and hundreds of skyscrapers in the distance. He had looked through the window so many times that he had actually discovered that he could see through a tiny gap past all the buildings to the truly monolithic wall that surrounded the city. He smiled and knew that Stevid was approaching a new era in international relations, so much so that the city may have to accept that the massive wall that marked Stevid Capita as a fortress city may no longer be the boundary of the city. In the next few years foreign investment may prompt the city to grow beyond the protection of stupidly thick and heavily armed and armoured wall that had safeguarded the city for decades. Times were changing and part of Conroy didn’t like it but if Stevid were to survive then it had to change, this alliance was just the first step on a long road of development.

He downed the rest of his scotch and moved towards the desk where he had placed the invitation and pressed a blue button next the draw.

“Sammy?”

“Yes Prime Minister?” A sweet female voice replied. Sammy was only seventeen, she turned up for work experience and had impressed the staff and David so much he had invited her to stay part-time when she wasn’t at school. Getting her to sign the official secrets act hadn’t been too easy and MI5 were constantly keeping tabs on her in case she did leak something important to her friends. But Conroy trusted her and insisted she be his personal secretary for the time being.

[i]“Make sure you have Stevid International airport have Conroy 3 ready to leave in three hours. I believe the other two are in for servicing but if Conroy 1 is available then I’ll take it. Make sure the RAF know that I and members of the Cabinet Office are flying to Independent Hitmen and arrange for the Jags to meet us at the front of the house in five hours. Okay then?”

“Yes Prime Minister.” She replied and rang off the intercom leaving Conroy to his thoughts. He was glad this was finally happening and soon he would be in IH with James once again to put pen to paper on something truly remarkable.

Several Hours Later

Conroy 1, the Airbus A380 had been available but had trouble with engine three every now and again but Conroy insisted he take it instead of Conroy 3 which was a Boeing 737. Now was the time to show the world just how big these countries were, flexing and showing off muscle to anyone watching. These were big powerful nations and they had to look the part if this alliance was to be a news breaker.

The plane had taken off ten minutes early from Stevid International Airport, Michaela Conroy had been uncharacteristically quick with packing and thus they were ahead of schedule even if it was only ten minutes. Conroy 1 had been tightly escorted by four XF-23 Nightwalkers before the Prime Minister’s plane had reached its maximum safe altitude and had left Imperial Airspace. RAF escort wasn’t needed for the whole flight, the jet could take care of itself despite its dodgy third engine and the IHAF were more than capable of handling a VIP plane, after all they had done it before and the last thing the airbase needed was another four foreign planes clogging up the runways. It was best to leave the Stevidian fighters at home and let Conroy 1 continue solo.

It had not been the most entertaining of flights, Michaela thankfully slept through all the commotion in the Prime Minister’s bedroom. Engine three had completely failed and there had been rumours that one of the fans had jammed and caused a small fire that had since been extinguished. The plane was still flyable and could even be easily landed with no problems but maximum altitude and speed had been significantly out. Something sort of a mayday was issued to the Independent Hitmen mainland which was three hours away at the time and had asked for long-range escort to be sent to guide them in. Conroy 1 was well with surface-to-air missiles and its altitude was low enough for hostile aircraft to engage it, no chances could be taken and so an escort was desperately needed. Many countries would rather this alliance would not go ahead and Stevid would rather the Prime Minister arrived alive, not dead.

Now the A380 was beginning its final approach on just three engines and the Captain had ordered everyone to hope for the best but to expect the worse. Over the past hour the other three engines had been feeling the strain and were desperate for respite. The sheer weight of the aircraft and the distance it had covered had taken its toll on the craft which was now practically struggling to keep itself in the air. While it was more than likely that the plane would land without incident, Conroy 1 had notified the emergency services of their miserable circumstances and hoped they were on hand just in case the A380 suddenly decided ‘enough was enough’ and dropped out of the sky.

Conroy 1 began its historic, and nail bitingly tense, final approach to the airport as the world watched the famous aircraft grow ever larger as it neared the airport. It was the beginning of a great union between friends old and new.

It was another morning in The Principality, and like always president Librescu enjoyed the first rays of the sun. This was perhaps the best part of the day, before news of the events going around the world, sometime good, otherwise bad and usually somewhere in between reached his desk. Only at these early hours did he find any solitude and peace of mind and lately not even then.

There were many things going through the mind of the president as he looked outside the windows of his office at the streets of the Capital. Not long ago in that very spot he had a conversation with Emilian, the foreign minister of the nation about the importance of friends and allies in the world and even as he was remembering this, Emilian was working towards a deal with The Fortress State of Animarnia, the good news delivered via a secret network brightening many a days for the president.

”Mister President?” a voice interrupted his musings as his personal assistant entered the room, ”Already awake?” the woman continued, a small frown appearing on her face.

”Good morning Sandra,” Liviu replied, a bit amused at the predictable reaction of his assistant. The woman had made an objective out of getting him to rest properly, knowing all too well the amount of stress pressuring on his shoulders, ”I was just admiring the sunrise, the start of a new day,” he added trying to pacify the woman before she started on his sleeping habits again. She was extremely efficient, but once you got her started on his health there was no way to stop her.

”I see,” she replied, none too happy, ”A cup of tea then?” came her question as she neatly placed several newspapers on the president’s desk.

”Yes, I’d rather have a black cup of coffee, but I’m sure you’re going to say no to that,” he seated at his desk, reaching for one of the papers.

”You know me all too well, mister president,” the woman smiled, ”I’d never dare to defy the doctors.”

As she left the room to bring him his tea, Liviu started reading some of the headlines from the day’s press.

’Tyrant rising to power?’ one of the titles jumped to his eyes. It was a good, if a bit outdated article about the increasing problems in the neighbouring country of Mephras, a problem Liviu and the government of Damirez considered as a priority, regional stability being at stake.

’The Lamonian economic boom! Damirez to blame?’ another article said, focusing on the economic boom in the nation of Lamoni for the past few years as a result of significant Damiran investment, the warm relations between the two countries bringing a smile to Librescu’s lips.

’Conspiracy? What’s happening behind the closed doors?’ this one was fairly interesting, describing some rather interesting details about diplomatic meetings between Damiran officials and those of various countries, some friendly, some less so, but all connected in way or another with the Principality. The reporter probably had no idea how right he was.

”Your tea mister President,” Sandra returned, bringing with her the tea and a small breakfast for the president.

”Ah, thank you Sandra,” the man replied serving himself to a steaming cup of tea whilst finishing looking over the last newspaper. The atmosphere had an intimate feeling to it and even though he only had to ask for the entire building to zoom with life from this early hour, he preferred it this way.

”Also, this just came in,” a letter was handed to Librescu’s hands, no traces of curiosity present on Sandra’s face. As the man behind the desk read the contents of the letter, his previous smile returned with full force.

”This is good news, good news indeed,” the president finally spoke, lifting his eyes from the letter and looking at his assistant, ”I’ve just received an official invitation from the United States of Independent Hitmen for a series of diplomatic talks and negotiations regarding various areas.”

If Sandra was surprised, she didn’t show it, her familiarity with the dealings of Damiran diplomacy being almost as comprehensive as those of the foreign minister or president of the country, the tentative approaches made by the diplomatic corps in the past few moths being well known by her. It was nonetheless a pleasant surprise to see that the efforts of the tireless men and women working to promote the nation’s interests and prosperity were successful, an eventual formal deal with the nation of IH showing much promise for future growth and stability.

”Excellent news sir, this is definitely good news,” came her reply, as a smile of her own made its way on her face.

”It is,” the president added before talking again, ”But it gets even better, we’re not the only ones invited for a round of talks.”

”If I might inquire, who…” a bit of curiosity finally appeared in Sandra’s mind.

”Another friend of ours, the Holy Empire of Stevid, them and the USIH have quite a history together,” Liviu satisfied his assistants small curiosity.

It was a well known fact in The Principality that the space deal with the Stevidians was one of the most inspired deals made by the nation, popular support for the government registering a significant boost after the signing of the treaty whilst Stevidians were considered among the most liked foreigners. As proof of this, during the crisis in which the Holy Empire found at odds with the US due to President Reagan, polls being made by various agencies around the nations showing a high percentage of approval coming from the people should the nation decide to provide military assistance to the Stevidians. There was but one sour point in the budding relations, represented by the communist country of The Ryou Black Islands, but it was accepted as a needed compromise in order to further relations between the Holy Empire and The Principality.

”Should I assemble the cabinet then sir?” Sandra returned to her assistant mode, the implications and mandatory requirements of such a meeting being obvious to her.

”Yes, please do so,” the president kindly replied as he pondered just who was available for such a task. At the top of the list stood general Belisarius, one of the most important men in the Damiran military, but, with the increasing pressure at the Mephrasi border it was ill advised to remove the commander from the army, given the odds that a conflict could ignite at a moment’s notice. His own departure would have been questionable were it not for the fact that he had made it clear from the first day of his mandate that no matter the crisis, he would always search to improve the standing of the nation by forging new friendships and alliances. Besides, as previous affairs proved, the country was resilient enough to be able to function properly without a leader, the invasion of LA during the past elections being the most obvious example, but given the wonders of modern technology such was not the case, only one click of a button allowing secure communications with the country.

”It has been done mister President,” Sandra’s voice permeated the silence of the room.

”Then let’s get started…”

---

The following days witnessed a media circus. Curios by nature, the Damirans were quite eager to find out the truth behind the preparations made by various officials in the government, the happy, secretive tone adopted by many of them when answering questions from the reporters representing a great change from the usual gloomy interviews they gave in relation to the Mephrasi situation.

The optimistic scenarios were only reinforced by the purposefully leaks made to the press by the press offices of various institutions. Beyond assuring the public that things went well for the country, this also had the added benefit of drawing away attention from other issues in which the country was involved, even though some journalists maintained a close eye on the affair.

As the media made various assumptions on the situations in which the Principality found itself, an informal meeting was taking place in one of the hidden chambers on what was called as the ‘Presidential Palace’. Many of the usual participants were absent, but the holographic technology allowed them to interact with the others quite well. The subject on the table was obviously the current diplomatic proceedings and the president was only all too eager to hear the opinions of his most trusted advisers.

”Given the political context on the international scene this comes as a breath of fresh air,” Elian Davout’s voice could be heard. ”It will insure that our next diplomatic measures go unchallenged and provide us with a formal alliance with an already friendly nation.”

”I agree, we’ve been searching to sign a formal agreement with the Holy Empire for quite some time now, this is a golden opportunity for us,” Fatima Al’Hamil, the most respected admiral in the fleet, currently in a diplomatic mission to solve a conflict added.

Similar opinions were shared by all present, although General Belisarius brought to the attention of those present the problems that presented themselves with such a treaty it was easily decided that the benefits outweighed the costs and, without further objections, the president started preparations for his journey.

---

Finally the day of departure came. Accompanied by several important officials, the president boarded the “Hen” as he nicknamed the Presidential Airplane and left the country towards the USIH.

Most of the trip was peaceful or according to some of those on-board, a bit boring. It all changed however when the President, once a pilot in the Airforce, decided that he wanted a shot at flying the bird. This might have been unusual for other nations, but for the Damirans it was a common occurrence, their obsession towards flight being present without a doubt even in the number one official of the country. In fact polls revealed that a candidate to presidency that didn’t have a pilot’s license lost a significant share of voters, a national oddity to say the least.

”Mister President, I’d wish you stopped doing this,” Sandra worriedly looked at her boss as he piloted the plane.

”Relax Sandra, it’s nothing fancy, even the auto pilot could do it, we’re just flying in a straight line and…” and it happened, in just a few seconds the plane dived, giving a few of its passengers a scare, the others enjoying the thrill of the ‘ride’.

”Mister President! the assistant admonished, obviously unsettled by what just happened.

Finally after much effort and several threats regarding the office key, Sandra managed to get the president off from the controls of the jet, not hearing the few soft spoken words of the man towards the captain. ”Air Turbulence, be careful,” and the equally silent reply of the captain.

The rest of the trip went on without a hitch, the only thing of notice being the joking comments of ”Maniacs,” made by those in the plane without a pilot’s license.

Finally the lights of the IH airport came into view and as the trip ended a new one, far greater starting for all those on-board and for The Principality of Damirez and its friends.

Neito Air Force Base

The band played, the sun beamed down and the crowd were cheering. President Anderson was happy, his open necked shirt allowed a breeze to hit his bare neck and he had managed to convince the press that he actually was about to invade AMF. All in all it had been a good mornings work. As he slowly did his Tom Cruise impression, walking along the lines of visitors shaking hands and having pictures taken etc, a Secret Service agent stood close to him and announced that the Stevidian plane was on its final approach. They had decided not to alert the President to the aircrafts small problems until after it was safely down; he might decide to do something silly like hop onboard a fire truck if they did.

A brief apology and wave to the crowds was all that was needed and he hopped into a Chevy Suburban for the brief drive to the designated parking lot for the first of the visiting planes. The huge A380 was visible in the sky now, descending gracefully onto the longest runway, number twelve. President Anderson still used a Boeing 747-300, a fact which was absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Boeing still had huge factories in the country whilst Airbus had none and everything to do with personal preference. Or so the public were told.

Seeing the ungainly bird on its flight path in did little to stir the President’s interest in it, the undercarriage deployed correctly and the aircraft made an uneventful landing. The same secret service agent informed James that the Damiran aircraft was a little over five minutes behind the Stevidian one. James and his entourage looked on as the approaching aircraft grew in size, only to be blocked out by the A380’s huge fuselage, a string of fire and rescue vehicles following it. The jetway went towards the Stevidian flag carrier and the James moved to the bottom to welcome his first guest, his wife and young child would have been with him but for an emergency with James’ mother-in-law.

After a moment David Conroy and his wife appeared at the door of the plane, his own security people already well versed to working with their Hitmen counterparts. Selected press photographers and camera crews had been allowed in close and saw as James took Davids hand at the foot of the stairs and patted the side of his shoulder before welcoming Mrs Conroy with a kiss on the cheek.

“David, welcome. It’s been a while coming hasn’t it! I hope you enjoyed the flight, no major dramas I hope. President Librescu’s aircraft is about five minutes away. I thought we might wander down towards his jetway and both welcome him here.”

While Conroy was bothered that one of his plane’s engines had blown out and bothered at the unprofessional work the mechanics had put into repairing the plane before take-off, he wasn’t too bothered seeing as most planes of this size could operate on two of the four engines safely, losing only one was just a minor problem. Still it had been correct for the Captain to inform the tower at Neito Air Force Base in case the worst thing in the world did happen. As it was the plane touched down without incident but the emergency services were right on cue although they had little to do but examine the plane once it had come to a halt in the parking bay. Aside from the fire and rescue vehicles there was one other, a black car followed by one or two more with a familiar figure standing at the end of a long red carpet. Conroy smiled broadly, he hadn’t seen James in such a long time and it would be good to finally meet someone international he knew he could definitely trust.

As he and Michaela appeared at the door of the aircraft, the national anthem “Jerusalem” played softly as Conroy and the wife walked down the stairs to an equally happy James who greeted them both happily.

“No major dramas? Has your sight gotten bad since we left or have the secret service kept you out of the loop?” Conroy joked. “Nothing too serious thankfully, one of the engines blew out as we started our final approach, nothing terrible as you know but the Captain thought it best to inform the tower just in case. The last thing you want is my corpse strewn across the run way.” He smiled again and patted James on the shoulder in return. [i]“Hello anyway James, hope you and the family are well. Err… Michaela’s fine but a tad shaken after the engine problem… Still we are here now on terra firma and yes, I’d love to meet Librescu with you old boy. Just a minute.”

He turned to Michaela who had put on her sunglasses in the amazing weather with a smile on her face. She said hello to Anderson too and seemed to steady herself better on the runway after the scare onboard the A380.

“You okay? Look you know I’ll be fine and we’ll have James’ staff arrange for you to be taken to our accommodation, the bags will be there shortly. Okay?”

She nodded, kissed him on the cheek and made her way with two men of MI6 towards one of the cars waiting to ferry her to the place they would be staying while Conroy remained with James and made their way towards the jet way where the President of Damirez would be arriving. The day could only get better.

“Anything else I should know?” Liviu ironically asked his assistant as she kept reminding him about various other small tidbits that in her opinion he needed to know about their hosts and Stevidian friends. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t already made his own research on the subject or that the secret services and various other sources didn’t provide him with enough information on the subject, but the woman seemed to either be unaware of that or just simply ignore the facts.

”As a matter of fact,” Sandra gravely replied, drawing Liviu’s attention back to her words. ”We have several problems pertaining to national security that need addressed before we land, such as…”

Like a convicted felon he sat and listened to her until the plane landed. Some of the matters she mentioned were indeed grave, such as the threat to the Damiran embassy in Mephras, but others were not that bad, the launch of the number one hundred satellite in the Lamonian defence grid by a private Damiran Corporation being one such event. He knew most of the stuff already, but his assistant made sure to provide him accurate updates every moment, making sure to slip various other facts in between the ones that the president considered note worthy.

Finally as the impromptu briefing ended, the plane landed at its intended destination, only for another session of preparing to take place.

”But mister president, your tie…” Sandra tried to stop the man as he prepared to exit the plane. It was a well know routine now between them. Sandra was to try and fix any blemishes in Librescu’s appearance and Librescu was to hurry to the exit, trying to look as normal as possible, thus avoiding his assistant.

”My tie is fine Sandra, you worry too much,” he defended himself from the woman, knowing that it was a battle he could not win.

As several agents who had departed the plane met with their Hitmani counterparts, Librescu made the first steps outside the vehicle.

”Interesting weather you have around here,” he addressed the IH president with a pleasant smile on his face and then looking at the Stevidian plane he barely managed to stop himself from whistling, that was one burnt bird, not exactly what he would have wanted to see done with his plane, he had some attachment to the hen after all. ”And I see you’ve had some minor problems, prime minister, nothing like a little barbeque to liven things up,” he joked about it.

Truth be told, Librescu was a bit surprised at the damage the Stevidian plane had taken, but while he hated seeing any burning planes, he knew that it was well within the craft’s abilities to fly even with the damaged engine. ’And Sandra though I was giving them a scare,’ he briefly looked at his assistant before turning his eyes back on the two heads of state.

OOC: Sorry its taken so long for what is a distinctly poor post. You guys only have to say things at the press conference if you want, otherwise just skip forward to the helicopters or getting to the summer retreat.

Neito Air Force Base

With Michaela heading towards the cars, James motioned to one of the Secret Service agents nearby. The man approached and leant in.

“Mike, make sure Mrs Conroy gets a helicopter to take her to the house. Inform her that Jackie should be there and waiting when she arrives. We’ll just do the formal bit with the press then we’ll be along too.”


Walking with David and a host of security personnel and aides, James joked about the unreliability of aircraft and the how he worried that the film Airplane! was very close to the truth. With the Damiran aircraft pulling up to the jet way conversation was drowned out by the engines. James shared one last joke with David as President Librescu started down the steps. He looked well, not as frazzled as David had done after his close call, and the handshake was firm.

“Mr President, welcome to Independent Hitmen. The weather has indeed been kind to us today and I suspect David is glad that he didn’t have to land in a gale.” he smirked at the slightly singed plane.

“I’m afraid we have a brief press statement to make and then off to the summer retreat for the serious stuff” again a laugh. “This way gentlemen.”

He opened his arm to his right and the two other leaders started walking next to him, Conroy in the middle and Librescu on the left. One of James’ press secretaries was waiting near a specially erected podium that gave a view of the two aircraft in the background, the flag on the Stevidian aircrafts tail clearly visible to the assembled media.

A flurry of pictures were taken as the three leaders rose onto the stand and went to their separate speaking areas, Anderson in the middle, Conroy to his right and Librescu to his left. All three had their nation’s flags handing behind them and the screen at the rear of the podium had all three flags on poles at the same height. As the host, Anderson spoke first.

“Good afternoon again everybody. I’d like to take this opportunity to again welcome Prime Minister Conroy and President Librescu to Independent Hitmen. It’s going to be an historic series of meetings for all three of us and the countless billions of people across the world who it will finally unite in formal friendship. It’s President Librescu’s first visit to the United States and I hope that we will show him the same level of hospitality that we have extended to our nearest and dearest allies over the past years. Prime Minister Conroy has visited our fair country several times now and it is with great joy that I welcome him back for this historic occasion. Prime Minister, do you have anything you wish to add?”

Conroy smiled towards Anderson and turned to the cameras to address the press.

“Thank you mister President for your kind words towards my country and to our other guest. I’d like to say firstly a big thank you to you, President James Anderson, for allowing these talks to be held here. The following week will prove to be a crucial turning point in the diplomatic relations between Stevid, Independent Hitmen and Damirez, we will be looking beyond the horizon as this great alliance gathers pace and influence throughout the world. There is still work to be done but thanks to President Anderson here, work can actually start on this alliance right here in the United States. I’ve been here several times before and always received a very warm welcome from everyone here so I’d like to thank the people of this illustrious country for allowing me and my partner to stay here a few more days. Finally I’d lie to thank the security services of the United States for doing an exceptional job as always, I love to see our two countries liaising so well together and I’m certain there will be no security issues over following days.
“Talk of this alliance has been a long time coming and a union between our three countries will do much for the economies and politics of each nation. Of course there is a distinct military aspect of the alliance but to dwell on that too closely will negate the real purpose of this alliance. Together, united, we are stronger and the sharing of technology, policies and the ability to better lend economic aid to each government makes progress much easier. Trading restriction are almost completely thrown away bar some of the serious rules and regulations, businesses can expand far beyond what they could before and commercial and holiday travel becomes easier and cheaper still! This alliance has nothing but benefits to our three nations and it looks as if it will stand forever.”

Conroy gestured to both Presidents but particularly his Damirez counterpart.

“Our friendship with Damirez has never been better. Our economic cooperation has led to both nations stretching out into the void of space and actually making part of it our own. The Stevidian/Damirez Space Program is still in its infancy but already is at an advanced stage, the international space station is well on its way to completion and I need not remind everyone of the anti-ballistic missile defence satellite grind, also capable of retaliatory ICBM attacks, is fully operational and encompasses both the entire Holy Empire and Damirez. Nothing would make me happier than to include Independent Hitmen in the mix as well. Together we are safer.
“The cultural benefits are extraordinary too, our countries can better explore and discover each other in greater detail with this alliance than before it. Our rich histories and ethnic backgrounds can be better understood, comprehended and accepted. Our peoples will move forward together as one, and that will be a part of history I am proud to be a key part of… Thank you.”

As soon as all the national leaders had finished giving their speeches, there may be time for questions but more likely the trio would be whisked away to their lodging were the informal talks of the alliance would begin. Paperwork was for civil servants, not national leaders. They would cover the basics that were still a bit foggy, draw up an official decoration with some articles on the general pointers of the alliance and then return home after relaxing a little. All in a politician’s days work.