Chapter 148

We arrived back on the island in time for a barbeque and beer. On the way back I thought about Iran’s troop movements and drills. It was the biggest yet, involving the most troops.

Their people were in deep poverty and had been for a while after the decades of embargoes and sanctions. Gas and food were rationed as was electricity. We called them rolling blackouts. For the Iranians it had become a way of life - electricity for four hours a day - except for Teheran.

Nuclear accidents had been costly; thousands of acres were off limits for decades because of radiation from test failures and waste disposal. Yet they pushed on to develop weapons of mass destruction.

The intercepts indicated the strikes were going to be against American interests, allies and bases. All these troop movements made me think there could be much more.

I called Bob Smith and General Ingram back, ‘‘I want increased surveillance of Iraq, Syria, and Jordan,’’ I said.

They had no method to get that many troops across the Strait into Saudi Arabia, Oman or United Arab Emirates so they must be planning on a land attack or one hell of a land defense. Either way it bore watching more closely.

I had time to get all my mates off to the side and talk more about our life as we wanted it to be and the changes we were going through.

There were the rough spots with me now being President but we were working through them. One thing was as much personal time with each of my mates as I could get. When we did have time we made the most of it and I made sure I spent equal time with all of them. I did the same with our kids.

It was the end of March; I had been President almost three months. We had a system worked out; at least two of my mates were with me every day, sometimes three of them. And with the kids whenever possible.

The office was still running smoothly, even though there still was a learning curve in a couple departments. We had good employees and trained them to make them better. The business was still making money - lots of money - and growing.

The Mexican contract which was thought to be only a couple years, had stretched into long term contracts. The same was happening with the pact country contracts. We thought several hundred employees would be the final numbers. Now Vicky was pushing a thousand - so many in fact, we were hiring local people in several countries to fill routine jobs.

The college security division was no different; what started as twenty colleges was now at seventy and thousands of employees.

What had started as a gamble was the Polokwane mines and the ghost town and it truly had turned into a gold mine. We had anticipated not seeing profits for a minimum of ten years. It turned profits immediately.

The C5s were bringing massive loads of gold and uncut diamonds to Morton each month. They were still digging up gold they had hidden from the prince and his henchmen and would be for at least another year. Only then would the miners move to the gold seams that had been found in the appraisal.

We were spending tons of money in the beginning hiring back the three thousand miners that would call the town theirs. Then we hired craftsmen to build four thousand decent houses for all to live in instead of shanty shacks without running water or sewage.

We moved an eighteenth century town into the twenty first century in three years. It was complete with food stores and a medical center, paved roads, clean water and sewage with a treatment plant and its own power plant and school.

We were still running heavy security for the town, mines and airport. While the townspeople of Polokwane were happy people, those outside of the district were not, especially with prodding by the rebels migrating south from Botswana, Zimbabwe and further north. There were limits that we were sticking to.

If we needed additional people and skills, a place was found for them but the town was not a charity town. If we didn’t need them they were sent on their way, sometimes forcefully.

The town had elected their own managers and government. What had been a company owned store was no more and dozens of other independent business were springing up. It had turned into a success story we could be proud of.

We started talking about the election and the fundraisers we had done. They admitted they had fun at the last ones. They were getting into the energy of the crowd and could not wait for Sunday’s fundraiser and rally at ATT stadium - formally known as Cowboys stadium - in Arlington Texas.

Off season, the stadium was used for concerts, Motorcross, RV shows, Ag equipment shows and more. When in the concert format the portable stage was moved back from the grand entrance to accommodate the crowd size. With the monster overhead HDTVs screens every seat was a good seat. I was told it was sold out but I had no numbers.

I finally broke down and asked my mates the big question, ‘‘Should I officially run for President?’’