Free Tehran Decree by James Scorpio Page B

like: Grasping The Nettle, Taking The Bull
By the Horns, Having The Courage Of Ones Convictions etc. Decisive
action was what history was all about. It was a role of honour of
those who dared to grab power and use it to the full without
compunction. Perhaps somehow he could use one of these compelling
quotations to further his ends. The whole concept seemed to go with
ego and the all American hero, it was the sort of stuff John Wayne
movies were made of.
    But clearly times had changed rather drastically and
new methods of delivery were needed. The six guns had been replaced
with the mobile phone and the simplistic reasoning with the
computer. Even the dress had changed the cowboy leather jacket and
trousers had given way to the clean cut continental suit and the
boots and spurs to the latest Italian fashion shoes.
    Above all else, Jenkins was a man of the modern age,
he was slim and topped the six foot mark with high cheek bones, and
a slick of graying hair combed to one side. At fifty-one he
considered himself ideally placed to take over the presidency; not
too young, not too old, he could easily manage two terms before
retiring in comfort as an elder statesman -- unlike some of the
70’s brigade who would be eligible for a pension years before they
gained such high office.
    Modern clothing attire fitted him like a dream,
almost anything looked good on his athletic frame. He was highly
aware of this and played it to the core. Dressing well was a hobby
with him and he had taken to wearing Giorgione, an Italian label.
The name was a new kid on the Washington block -- not that it was
new, the clothing firm had existed for over fifty years as a top
notch male fashion house in Italy and on the continent.
    He liked the supreme slick cut and first class
accessories which went with every delectable suit they turned out.
No suit was complete without necktie, shirt, and shoes, which were
custom matched to all the maestros creations.
    A dynamic president abreast with the times was what
most people wanted, and this is what they would get.

    Chapter Sixteen

    David Bourne was a White House steward and busied
himself with clearing up coffee cups and other unwanted scraps from
the main offices. Part of his training was to be as inconspicuous
as possible and not disturb any of the working staff particularly
those of high office. He scooped up Jenkin’s paper cup from his
desk and was half way out of the room before the vice president
looked up from his notes.
    ‘Just before you go David...I would like a word with
you.’
    ‘Yes sir,’ Bourne stood at a casual attention, his
slim, youthful form, blocking the doorway. He turned and smiled
slightly, in line with White House courtesy code behaviour, his
jet-black hair highlights glinting in the light of the desk
lamp.
    ‘How long have you been with us David?’ said Jenkins
patronisingly.
    ‘Three years sir.’
    ‘And before that?’Jenkins politely demanded.
    ‘Before that I was a house waiter at San Brachen
School of etiquette.’
    ‘Really, I know it well...just off 49th street isn’t
it?’
    ‘Yes sir,’ quipped Bourne, trying to conceal a
growing disenchantment with the prolonged questioning routine.
Jenkins fixed him with a cold stare.
    ‘Don’t misunderstand my motivation David, but I
always thought that hospitality people lacked a certain kind of
motivation in the real world.’ Bourne inwardly cringed...was this a
personal insult or just a passing observation? He decided to accept
the latter lest he sullied the conversation.
    ‘That’s understandable sir, but our basic driving
force is to serve others directly, and of course there are
compensations and promotions along the way, just like any other
profession.’
    ‘I see, and what sort of advancement do you envisage
in the future David?’
    ‘I would like to complete my studies at the San
Brachen School just as soon as I have sufficient funding sir.’
    ‘I imagine fees would be rather high at such a
prestigious