Ambassadors of Peace
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Back in the Embassy some hours later, Sharon was told that the new Ambassador wanted to speak to her on the telephone from the USA.
"Mr. Ambassador," she said, very guardedly.
"Professor Klein, so good of you to spare me a few moments. How are you? And how is your friend the Emir? I'll come straight to the point, that's me, straight talking, no beating about the bush, no wasted words. Now it seems to me that although our politics are from opposite parties, and some of our policy ideas are very different, you being a very close friend of ex-President Suarez and all, and her being the sworn enemy of our fine new President, yet we have something in common, you get my meaning?" burbled the new Ambassador.
"What might that be?" Sharon asked guardedly.
"We both want the wonderfully close relationship between our great nation and the fine people of Kobekistan to continue and to improve and to get closer as they come out of the dead past and into the bright twenty-first century and democracy and free enterprise and all that. Now a little bird tells me that you done good there getting close to the head honcho the Shah. Is that really true, did you get to talk to him like, friendly, like real friendly, like real real friendliest friends?"
Sharon thought, 'Arse hole, dirty arse hole, ' but aloud she said, "I had a cordial relationship with the Kobekistani head of state, who is not a Shah, but an Emir."
"Shah, Emir, whatever. Does cordial mean what I think it means?"
Sharon finally realised that she was no longer on the payroll of the U.S. government, and that she really did not want to know whatever this obnoxious man wanted.
"Now Mr. Ambassador, hear this message."
"I'm listening sweetie."
"Piss off," and she put the telephone down sideways on the desk, ignoring the spluttering that was still coming from the earpiece.
'Let him rant, ' she thought.
As she went back to her bedroom to pack, one of the junior aides gave her a package and said, "This came for you from the Golden Palace. Security opened it, ma'am, and it is a flight ticket to the USA for this afternoon. I, we, ... that is the embassy didn't know there were direct flights to Washington from here, and Air Kobekistani say that although they do exist, there isn't a scheduled service. It sounds like the Emir has laid on a private flight for you." The admiration in his voice was loud and clear. "Will things remain the same with the new Ambassador, do you think ma'am?"
"Thank you," she said, "If you stay in the diplomatic service you will learn at least two things. First you will learn that every new Ambassador has to create a fresh set of contacts and unspoken agreements with the host nation and the other embassies. Second, you will learn not to ask stupid questions. Oh, and I am not ma'am any more. I am not the Ambassador, just plain old Prof Klein again."
At the airport Sharon was treated with the utmost respect and escorted by the airport's highest officials to an Air Kobekistani jumbo jet of the Royal flight which was the usual sumptuously fitted flying palace. At Dulles International she was treated as royalty until the management discovered that neither the Emir nor any member of his family was aboard the aircraft, whereupon the bevy of escorting officials all but evaporated.
Three weeks later it took the new Ambassador of the United States of America more than four hours to clear customs and immigration, despite the fact that he was travelling first class on a diplomatic passport and that the Deputy Head of Mission was at the airport to meet him and to smooth any little difficulties. It did not help that the Ambassador was shouting at all and sundry as though they were deaf and demanding bourbon from the moment he landed. Oddly, none of the airport staff seemed to speak or understand English, nor did any of them seem to understand the Ambassador's usually reliable Arabic.
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