Russell Moran - A Climate of Doubt

“The Iranian authorities are extremely upset, Bartholomew,” Douglas Merriman said. “It’s 19 degrees when it should be around 70. It’s snowing heavily and they have no idea what to do about it. Snow removal is foreign to them.”

“No problem, Douglas, they have absolutely no idea that we have anything to do with Rosetta, or its satellites, or the weather.”

“Are we going to moderate the weather as we’ve done in the past?” Merriman said.

“No, Douglas. This time I want to show the world exactly what the Reformers can do. I’m going to let it snow for quite a while. Power is real when it’s used, and I’m using it now. How are our people on the compound faring?”

“We have tanks with snow plow equipment, so the roads aren’t a problem. The buildings are equipped with generators and heavy-duty heating units, which you ordered before we came here. Because we know what to expect, we’re in a better position to handle the weather than anybody.”

“This call is for you, Bob” Colombo’s assistant said. “I think it’s Bartholomew Martin. Better switch into Phil Duncan mode.”

“Phil Duncan here, Bart. Judging from the weather, it seems that our new astronauts weren’t successful with the solar panel override switch. We’re in the middle of a blizzard here in Billings.” Nancy stood next to Colombo scratching notes for him. “As you may be aware, Bart, we can stop this wild weather by reversing our satellite tests. Shall I contact Moonwalker and make that happen?”

“No, Philip, I want this weather to continue for a while. The timing will be by my discretion. Our astronauts have performed according to my orders. They’re good men and know how to obey orders. There will be no satellite manipulation without my express order. Is that okay with you, Phillip?”

“Sure thing, Bart. I was just wondering how long this will continue. I think a lot of people are wondering the same thing.”

“It will continue until I announce otherwise, Philip.”

Martin lit a cigar after he got off the phone. He laughed out loud. It will continue until I announce otherwise , he thought.

“I need to meet with my senior advisor,” President Blake said.

“You mean Jerry Langdon at State?”

“No, Dee, I mean you. Anytime I’ve ever found myself in a box that I couldn’t get out of, you’re always the one who comes up with the answer. So, want to take a guess what kind of box I find myself in?”

“The entire country is in the same box as you, honey. Yes, I know what it is. Even though we’ve arrested Duncan and his men at Rosetta, we still have no control because the astronauts on Moonwalker answer only to Bartholomew Martin. Hell, we were lucky enough that Buster had that voice impersonation guy. But we’re still out in the cold, not to pun.”

“You summarized it precisely, babe. We control the Rosetta Corporation, but not the space station—Bartholomew does. Our CIA mole, Bob Colombo, the voice guy, tells us that Bartholomew said he intends to continue our current blizzard conditions indefinitely. So, don’t let your brain take a rest now. How can we get out of this box?”

“This is going to sound insane, Matt, but we have to talk to the Iranians. I’m sure they don’t know that their guests, Bartholomew and the Reformers, are behind this weather. Iran is a country with a mild climate. They must be going nuts with freezing temperatures and a blizzard even more than us. Their agricultural output sucks because so much of the soil is sandy. Add some freezing temperatures to that problem and you’ve got a lot of hungry Persians. We must have some spooks imbedded in Iran who can get us to the leadership. Who are you calling?”

“Bill Carlini at CIA. We need to meet with him and his super spook, Buster. Have I mentioned lately, Dee, that you’re a genius?”

Bill Carlini and Buster arrived at the Oval Office in a half hour.

“Dee has come up with a recommendation that’s kind of bold, to say the least, and I want to pass it by you. Depending on what you tell us will determine whether we can do it or not. Dee, fill these guys in on your idea.”

“As we all know, we’re at a stalemate with Bartholomew Martin,” Dee said. “From his new location, he probably thinks he’s untouchable, and he just may be right. We can’t storm into Iran like we did in Kurdistan because it would mean an all-out war. But we do have a set of facts on our side. The latest temperature plunge is hitting Iran more than most countries. Because of poor soil and lack of adequate water, Iran struggles to raise crops, even in the best of times. Intelligence reports tell us that the winter blasts this summer almost crippled Iran’s farming output. The leadership invited Martin and his thugs to set up shop in Iran for a simple and familiar reason, their hatred of the United States, the Great Satan. But the simple facts tell us that the Iranian leadership doesn’t know Bartholomew Martin is behind the cataclysmic weather. If they did, I think they’d view the Reformer compound as an enemy, not an ally. But the way to leak that information must come from somebody other than my husband because they’d never believe him. It’s got to come from somebody inside. So that’s what we want to talk about. Who are our spies in Iran, and especially, which one can speak to the Iranian high command?”

“Ramin Abbasi is the guy to pull this off,” Buster said without hesitation. “He’s an economist, a financial expert, and a mid-level minister. And he’s all ours, as good a mole as we have. The mullahs rely on his advice because their tightly controlled economy is always a mess.”

“I recall you telling me about this guy before,” the President said. “Can he leak the word to the top without getting his head removed?”

“The reason Abbasi is such a great asset, Mr. President, is that the Iranians think that he spies on us . He fills them in with a steady supply of information about the United States, but nothing that you couldn’t find in American newspapers. I give him a few tidbits every now to keep his cover on tight. All he needs to do is say that his inside American sources tell him that Bartholomew Martin and his group are the ones controlling the weather. He has the ear of Hamid Rashadi, a powerful mullah about three steps away from the top. Rashadi holds the title Deputy Foreign Minister. You would never know it from his words to the press, but Rashadi is one of the few true moderates in the regime, and we believe that he trusts Ramin Abbasi completely. Once they’re convinced that Bartholomew and friends are the weather warriors they’ll bomb the living shit out of them, pardon my Farsi.”

“Honey, I mean Mr. President, I think we should turn Buster loose,” Dee said. “I don’t see any other way out of this mess. We need to get the Iranians on our side, not that they’ll realize it.”

“I agree. What do you think, Bill?”

“I’ve mentioned this to you in the past, Mr. President, but when I’m no longer in office, I couldn’t recommend a better replacement for me than Buster. I’ve learned to trust his instincts over the years, and I agree with the First Lady that we should turn him loose. By the way, Dee, your idea is brilliant, simply brilliant .”

“Okay, Buster,” the President said. “It’s time for you to let your friend Abassi in on one of our top secrets. Just tell him the truth—that we’ve recently discovered that Bartholomew Martin is controlling the weather through his planted insiders at Rosetta. Tell him all about the assassination of Rosetta CEO Morgan, and how we discovered that Duncan is Martin’s hand-picked manager for controlling the world’s weather. Give him all the details he asks for. Buster, it’s time to work your spook magic.”