Saddam's Bunker, Baghdad, Iraqi Republic
December 10, 1990
Sprawled over the table lay maps of the Iraqi plains and swamps, the places they had defended so vigorously just a decade ago. But the focus of the table was the largest map, that of Baghdad itself, which despite the downplaying to the state media by that moronic minister, was mere hours away from being entered by the Coalition. A distant muffled sound reminded the room that Predator missiles fired from aircraft carriers in the Persian Gulf were making sure all accommodations were in order.
Saddam ignored it all, poring through the maps once again as his officers waited awkwardly.
"What about our air defenses?" Saddam questioned.
"We're down to 5% of original capacity, Excellency," an Air Force Commander promptly answered. "Even that is only there because we've held off on using it after that first week. The damn French sold us completely useless systems."
"How many infantry divisions do we have? Of the regular army and the Republican Guard?" he demanded.
A General that had been by his side since 1979 just laughed. "Divisions, Marshal? There are no divisions left." That was dangerous. No, not that they were down to scattered battalions at best and squads at worst. It was the fact that the General would dare speak like that to him...
Saddam bristled but said no more, his eyes returning to his map but his mind elsewhere. How had everything gone so wrong? That bitch Ambassador had guaranteed him, had bloody guaranteed him, that it was not the US's interest what Iraq did with her regional neighbors. What the was that about?!
That thrice damned President Bush had the nerve to park his Airborne troops in Saudi Arabia and speak of how "this will not stand" and how Iraq must leave Kuwait. The hypocrisy. He found nothing wrong when he attack Noriega so the Yankees could take over production of the drug market. And now they were here for his oil, with several carrier strike teams and the US Airborne preparing to enter Saudi Arabia.
That's when his generals now murmured that Saddam had gone awry, that instead they should sit around and wait, that surely their army with the best of the Soviet Union's technology was enough to defend Kuwait or that the west would gasp at the military costs of actually forcing Iraq out, that surely this was just posturing. But Saddam saw differently. He could see that incompetent buffoon Bush wanted a propaganda victory for his Empire, to keep the rubes in check and obeying his every word. This was not about Kuwait but about Bush himself since he wasn't able to have all of Congress gathered in a room to be purged like Saddam could. So Bush would come in, and right now, the only leverage Saddam had was the Kuwaiti oil fields and some British hostages. No, he would not sit and wait, hoping such meager hostages was enough. He would need to go further, make it absolute hell for the West to come in. If the West wanted a war, he would give them a war. He remembered that fateful day, when he gave the orders.
"When this is over, we shall celebrate in Mecca. Prepare to invade Saudi Arabia."
While it started off well, the omens of doom were all there. The tremendous resistance of the 82nd Airborne Division, the immediate oil shortage for the T72s on the road to Khafji, the immediate and universal condemnation of the international community even steadfast Muslim friends like Yemen. But the Guard proved their worth and the Saudis the opposite. The core of the oil fields was held by Iraq with clear understanding that he'd put them to the torch if the West were to invade, and for a brief moment, it looked like Saddam had won it all.
To experience that again, just one more time.
Before Bush declared him the new Hitler. Before Schwarzkopf blasted apart his precious Republican Guard. Before the Kurds and Shias had risen up and slaughtered Baath officials as Bush gave the orders for the Coalition to push out of newly liberated Kuwait and press to Baghdad.
To remember what it was like before then...
"Excellency. Excellency!"
Saddam awoke from his thoughts as one of the young Colonels who had cut his teeth in the trenches fighting the radicals of Iran leaned over him. "We have to get you out of Baghdad, Excellency. Move you to the Site C or the Americans will capture you."
The officers in the room all nodded. Saddam meekly looked back at the map of Baghdad. Perhaps there was a way he could have won, if Bush had balked at the idea of the world's oil supply in flames. But that was the past now.
"Let's go then."
Saddam followed the Colonel outside of the bunker and through the empty halls of the office building that the bunker was hidden under. Its cheap drywall made Saddam only miss his Palace, before twenty Tomahawk missiles pounded it to rubble and killed his sons. Finally, they reached a hallways where bodyguards lined the hall on the path to exit where an armor plated Cadillac waited to whisk him away to the next hiding spot. He wasn't sure what his new home outside of Iraq would be though. Assad surely wouldn't want to see him. Perhaps Sudan? Either way, it was the last time he'd live with such loyalty and devotion around him. Filled with emotion, he turned to one of his personal bodyguards lining the walls, to wish him well against the Crusaders. But the bodyguard was someone he didn't recognize. In fact, none of the bodyguards here he recognized.
Saddam stopped.
"Excellency?" the Colonel said, turning his head towards the President.
Saddam's face was placid. And then he chuckled. "How much did the Crusaders pay you, Colonel?"
The Colonel shrugged. "Nothing at all. I'm just trying to preserve the Baath and Iraq from complete destruction. Just like you did."
"Fair enough," Saddam replied serenely.
"Will you get in the car?"
"No, I don't think I will."
"Shame."
Saddam straightened his posture. Then, with defiance on his face, he gave a salute.
"Long live Iraq," he declared.
"Long live Iraq," the Colonel agreed.
Saddam closed his eyes seconds before a storm of bullets shredded his body.
) so that conclusively proves we are at peace! 