George Bush’S Great America [EN]: Chapter 9

“Just put on that damn suit quickly.”

John handed Osama bin Laden a suit, regretting it immensely. It was brand new, bought just last week, but there was no other way.

After removing the turban, trimming the beard, and putting on black sunglasses, Osama looked like a typical Middle Eastern millionaire.

“Why are you saving me?”

“I’m not saving you. I’m sacrificing you for the advancement of American national interests.”

Osama looked at John with a pitiful expression. John didn’t like that look at all.

“You’ve been caught up in politics.”

“It’s not politics; it’s my will.”

That’s why he couldn’t help but bristle. This wasn’t forced. John was clearly acting with free will under the guise of serving the nation’s interests. He was definitely not Rumsfeld’s puppet! That’s what he meant.

Yes, this is patriotism! A noble betrayal for the sake of patriotism!

“You can say whatever you want. You can order me to do whatever you want. Just get me out of here.”

Osama bin Laden’s obsession with survival was quite different from others. Clinging to life was a common trait, but very few were willing to give up everything for it.

“Then shut your mouth and stay quiet.”

The hastily dispatched CIA could only secure a Toyota truck that was readily available. Given more time, they might have gotten a helicopter, or at least a better car.

Also, it wasn’t just John moving Osama. Bin Laden’s family was being smuggled out of the city by other CIA agents, who believed they were ordinary civilians. This was facilitated by the President’s order to protect civilians and transport them out of the city.

“Damn it. There’s a checkpoint.”

Not just any checkpoint, but a double checkpoint. They were built in duplicate with sufficient distance between them, and in the distance, the barrel of an M1 Abrams tank was pointing their way.

The outpost on the hill, hastily constructed, was aimed with an M2HB heavy machine gun and an FGM-148 Javelin anti-tank missile. As if that wasn’t enough, mines were conspicuously laid out on the road, seemingly placed to limit the car’s movement to one path.

‘Typical of a checkpoint in the world’s strongest nation, the United States!’

It was John’s self-deprecating remark.

“Stop, stop, stop!”

There was nothing to fear. John was acting in the nation’s interest. If everything went according to plan, there would be no problem. It was a technique he’d used countless times since joining the CIA.

“CIA John Brandy. This is a Kuwaiti oil tycoon: Jabir Numeir Salman bin Riyal Al-Aziz.”

He knew he shouldn’t waste time, but something bothered him. Curiosity killed the cat, but it was also a human instinct.

“Let me ask you one thing. Why is the checkpoint built like this?”

“Ah, that’s under the direct order of the President. The order was given to build it like this because terrorists might try to ram through in a car and blow themselves up.”

“It must be a pain to dismantle.”

“Oh, yes. There were definitely complaints.”

The double checkpoint in the middle of nowhere had many loopholes due to the 40-minute time limit, but it compensated with overwhelming firepower.

“Couldn’t they just slowly come and explode without anyone knowing?”

“Then only I would die! Hahaha!”

He laughed good-naturedly. He was lucky it was a place where the CIA worked. If Rumsfeld had given other orders, it would have been troublesome—specifically, a scenario where the Department of Defense arrests both a CIA traitor and Osama bin Laden.

“Good work.”

There was no point in wasting time. He had to leave soon. To be specific, John’s heart couldn’t take it anymore. Being dispatched abroad with the title of CIA often meant your life was threatened annually. What John truly feared now was becoming a traitor and being abandoned by his country.

“Ah, wait a minute.”

Was he caught? He usually described this tingling feeling from head to toe as if an icicle was stuck in his spine, and he immediately understood why. His spine straightened, and he felt his pupils dilate with anxiety. He didn’t know if that was actually the case, but that’s what he thought.

He had practiced for years to erase this, and he thought he was saying goodbye to this sensation forever. But as the situation became precarious, his instinct, like a beast, stirred towards his pounding heart as if to prove that it could not be suppressed.

“If that friend is an important figure, put some medicine on him. He’s bleeding from his chin.”

“…Ah, I didn’t notice.”

“Okay! Pass! Sorry for holding up a busy person.”

John stepped on the accelerator as naturally and leisurely as possible. He shouldn’t arouse even a hint of suspicion.

“What moves you?”

Osama bin Laden kept muttering something after leaving the checkpoint, but he mostly ignored it. However, he couldn’t help but react to those words. What moves John? The reason why he is smuggling that devilish Osama bin Laden to Iraq now.

“Patriotism.”

What is John’s patriotism? It is the love of one’s country. Loving, respecting, and being willing to sacrifice for the nation. That was what John Brandy thought of as patriotism. Citizens who grumbled about the most excellent policies carefully selected by the most excellent elites in the most excellent country, just because they didn’t like them. Vagrants who didn’t do even simple tasks and begged with hidden agendas, disparaging the country. Traitors, traitors. Traitors!

John had been filling the gap created by the conflict between ideals and reality with CIA activities, with patriotism. The reason he accepted Rumsfeld’s words this time was solely to benefit the national interest.

The era of high oil prices was no longer something that the United States could overcome alone. If America’s name was not engraved in the power game of seizing Middle Eastern oil, it would inevitably consume the national treasury in the swamp of alternative environmental energy and remain just another mediocre power.

Pax Americana [American Peace, referring to a period of relative peace dominated by the US] would literally become an American dream and disappear.

But, John, do you know that?

Its name is nationalism, which freedom so hated.

“Shit!”

The car flipped over, and the axle was twisted. It was a miracle that the airbag didn’t deploy.

“Damn it! What the… !”

The airbag hit his head hard as it deployed. It seemed there was no miracle after all. His consciousness faded as if he had been hit by a straight from Mike Tyson, then returned.

“Y, shit!”

John barely crawled out of the half-destroyed car. His ears were ringing so badly that he could hear tinnitus, but even in the midst of that, he could clearly hear the sound of a prop plane passing overhead. Looking at the sky, he could see an RQ-1 Predator drone flying in circles in the cloudless sky.

Then that means a Hellfire missile was fired here. Seriously! Firing a Hellfire missile at a civilian vehicle? He didn’t know if it missed or if it was shot that way on purpose, but the road was completely destroyed. Perhaps the car was blown away by the blast.

“Damn it! What the hell is going on!”

Even amidst the tinnitus that plagued John, the ringtone of his cell phone was clearly heard. John fumbled and pulled out the cell phone from the overturned car that claimed he was normal. When he held it in his hand, there wasn’t a single damaged part.

「Are you alive?」

“Who is your person in charge! I’m with the CIA… !”

「My person in charge?」

“That’s right!”

「My person in charge is the people of the United States. You son of a bitch!」

“What?”

Listening carefully again, the sound from the tinnitus was not the sound of the propeller from that drone. It was the noise made by a squadron of transport helicopters flying in the distance. They quickly rappelled down the ropes and surrounded John.

‘I’ve been caught! Why was I caught?’

John now sensed that everything was over.

“Hey, CIA man. Long time no see.”

The voice John heard in his ear was not a voice he heard for the first time. He definitely remembered this peculiar way of speaking.

“You. That soldier at the checkpoint earlier!”

“Let me tell you first, that is by no means a Kuwaiti name.”

“Th, that’s!”

Of course, it was a name made up at random. However, he never imagined that there would be a soldier who could judge that, so as a last resort, he simply combined the names of Arab figures he had heard in the past and made up a name.

“And I’m not a soldier. I’m an anthropologist.”

“An anthropologist?”

Why on earth would an anthropologist be on the battlefield?

“Ah, I’ll take that phone.”

The scholar’s weak strength could not overcome John’s grip holding the cell phone, but due to the great shock, the cell phone naturally flowed into the scholar’s hand.

“I wasn’t sure with just the name, so I was a little late comparing it with the montage. Mr. President.”

「No. Good work. You have made a great contribution to the Osama bin Laden capture operation.」

Why was an anthropologist out of place on the battlefield? Why was he at the checkpoint? However, George W. Bush didn’t think it was out of place at all. To the eyes of someone who clearly remembered what happened in Afghanistan, it seemed rather natural.

CIA agents who couldn’t even speak the local language properly, so their ambushes were quickly exposed. An infantry company that entered a building with IEDs [Improvised Explosive Devices] based on false information and returned to their country in coffins. Even civilians dying because it was difficult to distinguish between friend and foe.

The Pentagon generals all looked puzzled at the President’s statement that anthropologists were essential to move troops in the Middle East, but no one objected because it was too obvious that the probability of winning would increase if the information increased.

The person who had the most satisfied expression among them was surprisingly not someone like Colin Powell, but Rumsfeld. If he hired anthropologists, the Department of Defense would hire them, so he was planning to secure more of the Department of Defense budget, which Congress was trying to reduce, under the pretext of hiring anthropologists.

“Operation Code Scorpion! Operation Code Scorpion! Capture confirmed!”

John Brandy was not the only one facing imminent collapse right now. Osama bin Laden’s life was also coming to an end.

However, the relaxed and peaceful attitude was by no means the expression of a collapsed person. It was like the expression a person makes when they have made a big decision in their life.

「I officially declare that Operation Shock and Awe has been completed as of this time.」

The anthropologist had the honor of being the first to hear the declaration of the end of the arrest, thanks to the direct phone call. As soon as this news was delivered, American soldiers, regardless of rank, from generals, officers, to soldiers, all cheered in unison wherever the US military was located.

“Th, this is a conspiracy! Mr. President!”

「You’ll hear the details in your home country. Ah, since the CIA will be interrogating you anyway, it might be very familiar to you.」

“Rumsfeld! Rumsfeld ordered it!”

「I know.」

“Yes?”

「I know, you traitorous bastard.」

“Uh…?”

“John Brandy. I am arresting you for treason against the nation. You have the right to hire a lawyer and the right to remain silent.”

“No! I’m not a traitor!”

The patriot who became a traitor struggled.

“Damn it! Grab him!”

“I’m not a traitor!!!”

It is said that superhuman strength is displayed in moments of crisis? John struggled desperately with that superhuman strength, but one, two soldiers who had worked hard on physical development all their lives. Before he knew it, five people were sticking to him, and he couldn’t budge.

“Traitors all say that.”

“Shut up!”

“You will be transported to the United States with our team. Do you know what that means?”

“What?”

“Hey! If you’re with the CIA, understand! There’s only our team on that transport plane! But the transport plane is a bit old, so the black box and CCTV are broken. Do you understand?”

The blood drained from John’s face as he understood those words. It was obvious what would happen in the complete blind spot of the law.

“Ah, no!”