First Among Equals

When Charles reached his office the international telegrams and telexes of support for a diplomatic solution were piled high on his desk. The Permanent Under-Secretary reported that the debate in the United Nations had been so one-sided that he anticipated an overwhelming majority when they came to vote. Charles feared his hands were tied; he had to be seen to go through the motions, even by his own staff, although he had not yet given up hopes of undermining Simon’s plan. He intended the whole episode to end up as a triumph for the Foreign Office and not for “those warmongers” at the Ministry of Defense. After consulting the Permanent Under-Secretary Charles appointed a small Libyan task force consisting of some older Foreign Office mandarins with experience of Gaddafi and four of the department’s most promising high fliers.

Mr. Oliver Miles, the former Ambassador to Libya, had his leave canceled and was deposited in a tiny room in the upper reaches of the Foreign Office so that Charles could call on his local knowledge at any time, day or night, throughout the crisis.

Charles asked the Permanent Under-Secretary to link him up with Britain’s ambassador at the United Nations.

“And keep trying to raise Gaddafi.”

Simon listened to Sir John go over the latest version of Operation Shoplifter. Thirty-seven men from the crack Special Boat Service, the Marine equivalent of the SAS regiment which had been involved in the St. James’s Square siege in April 1984, were now in Rosyth on the Scottish coast, preparing to board HMS Brilliant, the sister ship to Broadsword.

The men were to be dropped from a submarine a mile outside Rosyth harbor and to swim the last mile and a half under water until they reached the ship. They would then board Brilliant and expect to recapture her from a mock Libyan crew in an estimated twelve minutes. Brilliant would then be sailed to a distance of one nautical mile off the Scottish coast. The operation was to be completed in sixty-five minutes. The SBS planned to rehearse the procedure on Brilliant three times before first light the following morning, when they hoped to have the entire exercise down to one hour.

Simon had already confirmed the order to send two submarines from the Mediterranean full steam in the direction of the Libyan coast. The rest of the fleet was to be seen to be conspicuously going about its normal business while the Foreign Office appeared to be searching for a diplomatic solution.

Simon’s request to the Joint Chiefs came as no surprise and was granted immediately. He phoned Elizabeth to explain why he wouldn’t be home that night. An hour later the Secretary of State for Defense was strapped into a helicopter and on his way to Rosyth.

Charles followed the proceedings at the United Nations live in his office on a satellite link-up. At the end of a brief debate a vote was called for. The Secretary General announced 147–3 in Great Britain’s favor, with twenty-two abstentions. Charles wondered if such an overwhelming vote would be enough to get the Prime Minister to change her mind over Kerslake’s plan. He checked over the voting list carefully. The Russians, along with the Warsaw Pact countries and the Americans, had kept their word and voted with the UK. Only Libya, South Yemen, and Djibouti had voted aga

inst. Charles was put through to Downing Street and passed on the news. The Prime Minister, although delighted with the diplomatic triumph, refused to change course until she had heard from Gaddafi. Charles put the phone down and asked his Permanent Under-Secretary to call Ambassador Kadir to the Foreign Office once more.

“But it’s two o’clock in the morning, Foreign Secretary.”

“I am quite aware what time it is but I can see no reason why, when we are all awake, he should be having a peaceful night’s sleep.”

When Mr. Kadir was shown into his room it annoyed Charles to see the little man still looking fresh and dapper. It was obvious that he had just shaved and put on a clean shirt.

“You called for me, Foreign Secretary?” asked Mr. Kadir politely, as if he had been invited to afternoon tea.

“Yes,” said Charles. “We wished to be certain that you are aware of the vote taken at the United Nations an hour ago supporting the United Kingdom’s Resolution 12/40.”

“Yes, Foreign Secretary.”

“In which your Government was condemned by the leaders of ninety percent of the people on the globe”—a fact the Permanent Under-Secretary had fed to Charles a few minutes before Mr. Kadir had arrived.

“Yes, Foreign Secretary.”

“My Prime Minister is still waiting to hear from your Head of State.”

“Yes, Foreign Secretary.”

“Have you yet made contact with Colonel Gaddafi?”

“No, Foreign Secretary.”

“But you have a direct telephone link to his headquarters.”

“Then you will be only too aware, Foreign Secretary, that I have been unable to speak to him,” said Mr. Kadir with a wry smile.

Charles saw the Permanent Under-Secretary lower his eyes. “I shall speak to you on the hour every hour, Mr. Kadir, but do not press my country’s hospitality too far.”

“No, Foreign Secretary.”

“Good night, Ambassador,” said Charles.

“Good night, Foreign Secretary.”

Kadir turned and left the Foreign Office to be driven back to his Embassy. He cursed the Right Honorable Charles Seymour. Didn’t the man realize that he hadn’t been back to Libya, except to visit his mother, since the age of four? Colonel Gaddafi was ignoring his ambassador every bit as much as he was the British Prime Minister. He checked his watch: it was two forty-four.

Simon’s helicopter landed in Scotland at two forty-five. He and Sir John were immediately driven to the dockside, then ferried out to HMS Brilliant through the misty night.