Potus 2/14 part IV

Potus said, “Whatever, what’s next?”

SoD cleared his throat and said, “Well, Sir, I still have some items on the agenda.”

Potus was clearly irritated.  “Yes, yes, go on then.”

SoD continued.  “As I was saying, the situation in the Oman gulf” (with added emphasis) “is under control and Hormuz straight is being held in a joint tactical strike force with the United Nations.  In another part of the world, we are working closely with counter insurgency groups in India, the Philippines, Iran, Yemen...”

Sod trailed off, looking at Potus who had been holding a finger to his lips.  “Sir?”

Potus giggled.  “I was saying, ‘shhhh’, don’t tell anyone about the insurgents.”

“Sir?”  Others around the table shifted uncomfortably.

“Because they’re asleep, get it?”

Nobody laughed.

“Asleep.  ‘Shhhh!’”

Silence.

“Go on.”

“Yemen...  Let me see.  Ok, getting to another point of importance.  Drone strikes in Afghanistan and Iraq have been having some difficulties with the hackers as you know...”

“Hackers?”

“Yes, Sir.  These are sophisticated techniques in which the determined forces of our enemies use technological tools against us to secure and advantage in ways we were unable to imagine...”

“No, that’s bullshit.”

“Sir?”

“Well, it’s Bullshit!  I can hack the Wifi connection at a Starbucks with my iPhone.  Do you really think that some towel head in the desert can’t figure it out?  He needs to go on the internet to look stuff up.  How does he do that?  He hacks shit.  That’s how you survive in the desert.  Of course they’re going to hack our drones.”

SoD looked uncomfortable but defended himself.  “Well, sir, it’s more complicated than that...”

“No it’s not.  What’s your password?”

“What password?”

“The password to your email?”

“I don’t know...”

“How do you read your email then?”

“I don’t, my secretary...”

“Oh, your secretary!”  Potus nearly stood out of his chair.

“Yes, she...”

Potus sat back down.  “You don’t even know your own password to your email and you’re worried about security on a drone in the middle of the desert where that’s all the insurgents do (but don’t bother them, they’re asleep) all day is hack the shit out of Wifi connections to look at porn on the internet?!”

The table was silent.

SoD tried to press forward.  “Sir, they don’t look at porn, they’re Islamic...”

“I know they’re terrorists.  Terrorists need to get off too.  Everyone looks at porn.  Even the terrorists.  Give me a break.”

“Well, sir, I don’t know that, that, you know, that...”

“Never mind.  I’m tired.  It’s lunch time.”

Someone across the table spoke up.  “We can order from Anchovy’s.”

Someone else groaned.  “I need a salad and they don’t have anything vegetarian.”

Someone else said, “I thought we agreed to go to Benedicts?”

Potus raised his hand.  “Everyone go back to your offices.  We’ll meet again later.  Call my chef and tell him I shall be dining on his daily special.”

Everyone stood as Potus got out of his seat and he glanced around surprised.  “I never get used to that,” he said grinning and everyone smiled.  Five minutes after Potus strode out preceded and followed by Secret Service, the meeting room was completely empty.