On the seventh floor of the Criminal Intelligence Agency headquarters building the atmosphere had been a little tense ever since the British MI6 had called the previous Saturday with the information about the middle-east war. Now the Brits had pushed up their threat level to seven, after the news that Syria, Libya, Ethiopia, and Turkey, had since been persuaded to join the forces of Iran, Iraq and Russia, against Israel, and now Pakistan had joined the new axis, things were looking bad. Henry S. Luther, Director of the CIA, sat in his office and stroked the ample beard that had started last summer on a three week trip to the Yukon. Was this the time to inform President Orwell of the worsening situation, he thought. The President had enough on his plate dealing with domestic unrest, so he really did not wish to add to Orwell's troubles. A knock on the door shook Luther out of his thought chain, “Yea, come in,” he shouted. It was one of his Deputy Directors from the Satellite Monitoring Facility, Richard Zimmerman. “Hi Rich, you got some more bad news for me,” the Director laughed.”
“I guess I have Director,” Zimmerman confirmed, “just letting you know, we have a very large movement of Russian forces from bases all over Russia. Large transports and troop carriers taking off with max loading all heading south-east, my guess they will swing west after the Caspian Sea into Iraq and Iran.”
“So it starts,” mused Luther, “OK thanks Rich keep me posted.”
As Zimmerman, exited the office Luther leaned forward and hit the button that made a direct connection to the Oval Office. “Henry, what's happening,” asked the President.
“There may be a huge problem developing in the Middle-east,” Luther proclaimed, “you will remember that a state of war exists between Israel and Iran.”
“Sure, you told me that a couple of weeks ago, and as far as I can see the Israelis are doing just fine,” said Orwell.
“Well Mister President, Russia seems to be moving into the region on the side of Iran, and,” continued the Director, “Pakistan, Syria, Iraq, Libya, Ethiopia, and our friends, Turkey have joined the cause.”
“Turkey!” exclaimed the president, “why for goodness sake,” it was a rhetorical question that needed no answers, indeed there was no answer at that time.
“The Brits warned us yesterday, so we thought we'd have a look, the satellite images show a massif troop movement across Russia, troop carriers and transports, all heading south-east, down the eastern side of the Caspian Sea, we think they will swing west after that to Iran or Iraq,” Luther continued.
“Don't we still have bases in Turkey,” Orwell asked.
“Yes Sir,” but just a token presence, we've been winding them down over the past twenty years, there are three bases, with about a hundred personnel at each.”
“Have our embassies made contact yet,” asked President Orwell.
“Ankara and Islamabad have asked for instructions, we haven't been able to contact Damascus or Tripoli; it looks as though they have blocked transmissions.”
“Right Henry, send everything you have to myself and the NSA, by secure digital,” said the President, “I will call a meeting of the Joint Chiefs.”
“Within the hour, Mister President.”