Rebirth: President Fatah Escapes

"The Ambassador confirmed the deal but there's been a delay in Moscow,"

Niaina began. I had her in my office bright and early to give me an update on her progress with the Russian weapons deal.

As I'd made sure the Ambassador confirmed and agreed to communicate the details of the deal with his superiors, all that was left until Schelar became as well equipped as the superpower itself was for said superiors to agree to our proposed first shipment. Talks about this could go on for weeks.

"Do you have any idea why Moscow would delay a response?" I ask. It was a first for me, international arm dealings. I wasn't completely sure what to expect other than a success or complete failure. That's why I left most of the work to her.

Seeing her shake her head lightly did not fill me up with hope for a nicely outfitted army. I let out a sigh, rubbing at my temples as I do. Moscow was showing signs of being difficult. Perhaps I really should overthrow the President. Ah no, that would render a lot of the things we've accomplish naught if an attempt goes south.

I look to Niaina and put on a smile, I could see she felt a bit nervous about my reaction, "It's fine. We'll keep working at it and if nothing comes of it, perhaps I'll head to Moscow myself."

I dismiss her with a wave of my hand. There was no rush as of yet, the nation still had its options to choose from. The African Union was one and the two heads of state it sent was another. Thinking about them I almost call Niaina back to give me an update on that as well, but she's long gone and I wouldn't mind betting she's relived to be out of my office.

I look down to the paperwork I'd left behind last night, it was yet another trouble I had to face; The wharves and cargo ships the nation had were ill-suited to any bulk form of international trade. The largest cargo ship we had was a Feedermax cargo ship with 3000 TEU worth of space and we needed, quite desperately needed something much larger.

It was here our options were limited to none. We'd have to buy said large cargo ship as I had no disillusions that it would take years if not decades at our current pace for Schelar to begin producing its own cargo ships. Unfortunately for us, most of the world's producers were boycotting us, even with our involvement with Russia, change didn't happen overnight.

The only places I could now go to purchase the ships were Russia, Namibia or Comoros. Russia was out of the question though. As much as I wanted to squeeze all I could from the superpower, I'd rather not become too reliant on them.

My options were limited to Namibia and Comoros; the two countries whose heads of state I had in my care. I let out another sigh as it dawned on me for the first time that I was hoping on the two to indulge me for quite a bit as well; Giving a good report to the African Union, entertaining the idea of gifting me weapons to fight Madagascar with, and now, selling one of their cargo ships.

And then even all this wasn't certain. They had to be softened up to the idea of going against the many sanctions placed against Schelar and they had to see that we were truly suffering as a result of it all.

I'd made a mistake.

I'd told Matthias and Luciano to hide the less developed regions of the nation from the Presidents, but as I'd just realized, those places are exactly what they needed to see. Fortunately, I still had time to rectify it all.

***

We drove in a convoy of rather heavily armored and guarded cars. Although, I would have normally come here in a civilian convoy, the over the top security was necessary to prove a point.

The Schelar wasn't safe.

I had President Bernardor, the president of Namibia and President Nawab, the president of Comoros in my company, I'd gone along with Luciano to request we accompany them in their tour around the country. We'd flown into Sofia, a province far from the capital Mahe, and we had the armored convoy waiting to pick us up.

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"These are just…slums," Nawabbegins, a little hesitant to spit out the question but still brave enough to bother asking, "Why bring us here with these vehicles?"

Bernardor grunts, agreeing with the line of questioning as he turns to face me, awaiting an answer.

For once I don't smile as I speak to them. There was no need to mince words even if half of it were lies. "Ah, I wanted to take my esteemed guests where I lived much of my life," during the civil war, on our way to Seychelles, we'd set up a temporary camp here once, while the place still looked conducive to human occupation, but we couldn't even stay half the night as the chasing Malagasy forces arrived hot on our trail.

"It's saddening to see it in ruins. The Malagasy did this," they did sure enough, but so did we. It was war. "And they still are Mister President."

I pick up a roll of Lynx media printed newspapers and hand it over to the man. As promised, the news of the Chiefs and the Malagasy involvement made headlines. The two of them take a quick read, skimming through the contents before looking at me with eyes that held even more questions.

"The Chiefs will be dealt with. They've been in detention since. Although their threat has been neutralized, the Malagasy are still something Schelarians need to be wary of."

"And you believe they have infiltrated your nation?" Bernardor asks and I almost smile as I hear the question.

But my frown only deepens as I look them both in the eye, "Well of course they are. It's unfortunate to say this but our borders are barely protected, the men are not equipped with the right weapons for the job, they are barely trained at all as they have to conserve bullets and fuel. We have no one to buy these things from or any means of producing them ourselves," another lie.

I sigh, making sure to look downcast, playing on their mercies, "Basically what we have is a militia thoroughly trained in hand to hand combat protecting our borders from a country without any thought to how many bullets they have left at the end of the year."

If the two men seated beside me had any sense they'd realize I was lying through my teeth. Fortunately, I had the inexperienced, nineteen-year-old head of state thing going for me, they wouldn't think twice about any of what I'd just told them. It would ring alarm bells to anyone who heard what I'd said, all I'd just given was considerably dangerous and classified information about the affairs of the state.

I see Bernardor's eyes soften up as he too begins to sympathize with the plight of poor Schelarians and I know that I am one step closer to achieving my goal.

"Mister President, Schelar needs your help."