Jörg. H. Trauboth - Three Brothers

Henriette hates it when any man anywhere in the world hugs her. They see it as a good photo-op for themselves to hug the first woman to lead Europe’s most powerful country, and a beautiful woman, at that. Just about every one of them wants to. Physical touch, like a hug, is also a way of demonstrating political power in a way that words can’t convey. Not even the short men shy away from wanting to hug the five foot seven inch tall, slender Henriette.

There are all sorts of men who are open to giving public displays of affection. The confident, reserved type, and others who act more like roosters. During her trips to Brussels, for instance, she is subject to a barrage of peck on the left, peck on the right . She has come to develop her own sort of defense strategy of blocking it early. But it doesn’t always work.

I would really prefer to freshen up and change clothes before the mid-day conference with the Emir, she thinks.

What is the plan for the day? First off, she has an hour-long meeting with the bank representative in a little while and then a two-hour meeting with the unions and the representatives from the churches.

She looks at the papers she has spread out next to her on the back seat of the car. Henriette does not like the special folders that government officials are supposed to use. Whenever possible, the papers need to be readily accessible and easy to find. Just like the ingredients in the kitchen, that’s how she cooks best.

She counts. Sixteen important phone calls are planned for that afternoon, including one with the President of the Federal Republic of Germany. He wants to discuss some complex proposed legislation.

An urgent letter from Mrs. Weier and Mrs. Fischer is also in the pile of papers. The wives of the two kidnapped German hostages are desperately asking for her assistance.

Both of their husbands were coerced into moving their construction company from Hanau to Iraq, despite the danger surrounding the area, in order to participate in some business ventures there. Both women fear for the lives of their husbands and are panic-stricken that they did not stop their husbands from going in spite of all the warnings from colleagues and also the German Foreign Office.

The letter is beautifully written. Henriette shares their anguish. She will be soon be briefed on the matter more closely before she is finally allowed to put her feet up at 8 o’clock this evening. Henriette Behrens has a discreet meeting that only her secretary and long-time friend, Susanne Ehrlich, knows about.

The number of German Foreign Minister von Rüdesheim appears in the display of her encrypted cell phone. The Chancellor is more than careful around him. Her coalition partner managed to push him through for an appointment during the formation of the new administration causing him subsequently also fulfill the position of her vice-chancellor. She can only guess what happens behind the scenes. She sometimes finds herself faced with the only remaining option of overruling him, which is then immediately portrayed in the media as a conflict between her and the foreign minister. Von Rüdesheim keeps tabs on her and is wary of her, especially because of her noticeably good relationship to the defense minister.

“Mr. Rüdesheim, is there a problem?”

“There is indeed, Madam Chancellor.”

He goes on to tell her about the extortion video.

“There is one more thing you should know: the threats come from a terrorist who speaks very good German. And you, Madam Chancellor, are named as the addressee of the message and are also heavily threatened. It’s already all over the media with the usual speculation of what our reaction will be. Undersecretary Dr. Kürten is preparing a meeting with the WEFI crisis unit for today in the situation room.”

Henriette thinks for a moment.

Option one, I delegate as much of this as possible. Option two, I make this an executive issue and actively take control. Both options are open ended. Option two is not something I can afford timewise, and it’s also politically more dangerous…”

She knows that she is sitting on the hot seat regarding this delicate subject. Two German hostages could potentially be beheaded by this terrorist organization. It is not her style to wait things out. She was elected to act. She takes control in the cabinet and in Brussels, and now she has to take control in the crisis center! Henriette decides on option two.

“What time is the crisis unit meeting?”

“Four o’clock.”

“I will be there. Please also have Interior Minister Dr. Bauer and Defense Minister Voss there as well – and of course anyone else we will need for coming up with a solution.”

“Will do, Madam Chancellor.”

He is such an idiot, thinks Henriette. When will he figure it out that I prefer just to be called by my name among the cabinet members?

She then calls her secretary and has her shorten the length of the day’s meetings with the banks, churches, and unions. This will help her get in some phone calls. I can forget changing my clothes, she says to herself while grabbing a few files.

“To the Foreign Office Crisis Response Center!”

“Normal or with the blue light?”

“Normal. I’d like to be able to take a nap in peace before war breaks out.”

Her favorite driver radios the details to the car ahead and smirks. He is proud to be her driver. Not only is she damn good-looking, she also feisty, and has her wits about her.

Everyone is already assembled in the situation room. The main screen is still black. Tense silence fills the room. This is the first time the chancellor herself will be taking part in a session.

Armored cars have been arriving since 3:30 p.m. The drivers jump out and open the door for the ministers. There is little need for body guards here as they are in a secured area. Defense Minister Paul Voss is accompanied by an army general. Internal Minister Dr. Siegfried Bauer by one of the high-ranking officials of the GSG 9 elite anti-terrorism squad of the German Federal Police, and the man of the house, Foreign Minister Georg von Rüdesheim, arrives alone.

Dr. Rudolf Kürten greets each of the guests with a handshake. It’s a big event today. During crises like this one, Rudi typically turns quite pensive, much calmer than his usual self.

The men are politely, but firmly, asked to turn in their cell phones before entering the situation room. This is not only for security reason, but it also upholds Rudi’s general rule. His motto is: Brains before technology .

Rudi glances around the room. It is exactly the way he has always wanted it to look. Empty tables lined up to form a long oval, corner to corner. A writing pad, a pen, and nothing else.

This unusual set-up was also something that the colonel in Blankenese had recommended to him. Since then, the situation room is now free of any information overload. It is a place to concentrate and give reports, to listen and discuss. Information pertaining to the crisis is brought in during the session from the various departments and intelligence agencies from outside the situation room. If required, anything important will be projected onto the screen on the wall – but only if necessary.

Rudi is satisfied. Here, he is directly on the strategic level. At the same time, he is happy that today’s final decision does not rest on his shoulders. At exactly 3:58 p.m. the situation room falls quiet.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome our Madam Chancellor.”

Everyone stands.

She brightly enters the somber, impersonal room in her understated blue pantsuit. Henriette shakes Georg von Rüdesheim’s hand. He knows that she does not like to be kissed on the hand.

“Good day, everyone, I am happy to be here in the Crisis Response Center. They took away my cell phone, but it wouldn’t have made any sense anyway, seeing the walls here.”