Chapter 6:

  July 5, Washington, DC

  It was just past six am and the sleek, black bulletproof limousine made its windy way along the streets of Washington towards the White House. Majeed Harrison, the President’s National Security advisor was busy reading through The Morning Book and scrunching up his face as he did so. Majeed felt very lucky to be in this position, one that was not connected to the bureaucracies embedded in Washington and therefore slightly more independent than other high level posts. If he had had to go through any kind of confirmation, he would have been torn to shreds, not because he wasn’t qualified but because he was of Arab descent and Muslim. Born in Dearborn, Michigan, educated at University of Michigan and Columbia, Majeed joined the State Department at the tender age of twenty eight having spent most of his life in school pursuing one degree or another in law, policy studies, international affairs or politics as well as being fluent in five of the United Nations’ official languages. As consul in hot button spots like Vietnam, Iran, Israel, The Congo and Sri Lanka, Majeed had honed his negotiation skills by working with masters of the craft such as Henry Kissinger. During the last Democratic President’s presidential campaign, he had been asked to be the Chief Foreign Policy advisor and had worked hard to bring about a temporary peace in the West Bank. For his efforts, the current President nominated him at the beginning of his Presidential term as the Director of the CIA. The media reported on his accomplishments and the skill sets he’d bring to the job but never hesitated to throw in the fact that his cousin – a very distant cousin, had been married to Osama Bin Laden’s second son’s brother in law. He had never met these people, had never spoken to them, had never even lived in any country that was Arab except as an American envoy and yet he found that this bit of information seemed far more important than his ability to strategize on America’s foreign policy. His nomination was withdrawn but the President immediately moved to find a way to get him on board and when the opportunity presented itself, Majeed Harrison, son of Joshua Harrison, a descendant of the Mayflower Pilgrims and Faaria Abdullah, born in Dearborn, Michigan to parents who had fled Iran when the Shah of Iran went into exile in 1979, became the National Security Advisor to the President of the United States.

  It was almost seven and the morning watch team would be switching over with the next group in the Situation room so Majeed dialed through to the Oval office and managed to get through to the President’s secretary, Wilma Greg.

  “Ms. Greg?”

  “Yes Mr. Harrison”

  “Good morning. Has the President gone over the Daily Brief?”

  “Yes of course”, she replied a little tersely. She was annoyed when others assumed the President sat around doing nothing.

  “Can you tell him to meet me in the Situation room for 9am? With Ms. Gold, Mr. Mendoza, Kwame Jackson and Mr. Modern?”

  “Yes of course”

  “Thank you”

  Majeed clicked off and sighed. He did not like that woman and he was surer this morning that she did not like him either. He put his ipod on and drowned himself in The Priests’ Ave Maria – just what he needed before what, according to the Morning Book, was going to be another hectic day in Foreign Policy.
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