Cheney goes a travelling, a tale.

al Sadr had decided to go and study the Koran. To do his academic duty as a Islamist. He put his AK down and picked up a book. No he hadn't been drilling and training. He had been waiting. He loved his father as much as they both loved Iraq. He wanted his country to be peaceful. Sunshine, bustling marketplaces where people would buy their food before going home to cook for their families without the glowering oppressive image of Saddam. Probably he had hoped against hope that the Americans would just, stop.

Yes, Basra was not in good shape, his control was not that good. That Police Chief was constantly complaining. But, it was getting better wasn't it?

Cheney arrived in a plane that spiraled to the ground to avoid the missiles that waited. His ancient carcass wheezing and focused. He had something to do. Time was running out. Like some frenetic ball of energy he went from meeting to meeting increasing the tension, tightening the springs, poking and prodding. Time was running out.

He saved the Saudis for last, like junior did. "Don't worry", he said. We will beat back the Shi'a. "Spring offensive" he said. Iran is not a problem. He had to go though, time was running out. He had to head back. Leaving the end of the peace in his wake. The quiet broken by the sound of his aircraft in a high angle ascent to avoid the missiles.

Time was running out.