Slower traffic

Melissa drives us at the top permitted speed, avoiding the slower traffic on the turnpike with remarkable skill. This morning, she wears black jeans and a blue shirt, and her beautiful hair is held in a severe bun. Her face is taut and serious and she wears no makeup. Sitting next to Julian in the back, as she requested, I observe the holster, with the black and flat handgun on the front seat.

It is the same one she drew yesterday at our arrival on Long Island. The uniformed officer who came out of the house would not have stood a chance had he shown himself to be a foe. Our friend had him framed, her steady hand still as rock. To me, her posture then was a revelation: the calm and impeccable hold, feet well positioned on the ground, legs a little apart. She is a trained marksman or assassin. I did not share my reaction with Julian. I think he admires Melissa more than ever, and she frightens him already enough.

Meeting

We are on our way to meet Gabrielle and Helga again, this time in a very different surrounding. Melissa told us last night that we would meet the high ranking Great Power officer, who is now the official liaison with the Coven. We know that, after the flurry of media speculation following the press conference Melissa and Julian attended, there has been a lull. Television channels have been especially sober in any reporting related to the Coven: press traffic is being throttled.

The name is now out, and no-one knows for sure who it is or what it is for, other than promoting world peace. No extra-terrestrial, let alone galactic,  connection is suggested anywhere. The tone of the few articles is only sober and respectful; journalists have been told by their editors to keep it that way, or else.

Brooklyn

We reach the freeway heading in slow traffic in the direction of Brooklyn. Melissa explains that our escort – a grey SUV with reflecting black windows which has been trailing us since Long Island – will now precede us and that another car will take its place. Soon enough, a dark blue van is on our tail, I cannot see inside either, but I notice the tall antenna on its roof.

As we reach Brooklyn Melissa slows down. We are sandwiched by our escorts, front and back. After half an hour through the streets, Melissa turns off the car in front of what looks like a massive warehouse. The SUV is in front of us, and soon a huge metal door opens and the three cars move in. The door closes.

Staircase

The escorts wears dark overalls and masks, and they carry short machine guns. Melissa leads us towards a staircase, preceded by two armed masked men. The stairs lead to a small room with a lift. There is no button or visible control near the lift. It opens, we walk in, and the door shuts without a sound. We exit the lift a few seconds later: I think we went up. 

We now stand in front of a closed door of polished wood. Julian presses my hand, and I can feel his anguish. Then the door opens: Gabrielle is on the threshold, smiling. She signals us and the door closes silently. I guess our guards stand now by the door.

I follow Gabrielle into a wide corridor, between walls painted a pale ochre. Paintings of boat races and aircraft decorate these walls. Turning around I see that Melissa is leading Julian by the hand, she smiles and signals me that all is well.

Athletic Shape

Gabrielle opens a door at the end of the corridor. It’s a large office, and near a massive desk stands Helga. She is absolutely stunning. Her long black hair to the shoulder, wearing a grey suit that perfectly renders her athletic shape in a way I find immediately disturbing. Behind the desk also stands a tall man with a crew cut, wearing the four stars of a US Air Force general.

Gabrielle does the presentation, and then hugs me. We are offered comfortable seats and coffee that Helga serves herself. Julian sits between Melissa and me. I notice that Melissa left the handgun in her car.

The general welcomes us and says how happy he is to meet us at long last. He refers to the press conference, but not to the missiles. Then, in the quiet and firm voice of a man used to being listened to without fuss, he says that Melissa, Julian, and I have been invited to attend a conference of the four largest military powers in the world: the Great Power herself and her Asian challenger, the Russian Federation and Japan. The military Alliance will be also represented. The conference will take place in the fall, in Berlin. 

Altitude

Another round of coffee is being served. I relax a little, Helga smiles at me, the general stands up and invites us to look at the view. I notice that behind us, where the door stood, is a large bay window. The view is that of the whole of New-York City, its tiny traffic and diminutive buildings, as if we were at a very high altitude, perhaps a kilometre high. Maybe we are.

About Peace conferences

I. Introduction

• Definition of peace conferences
• Importance of peace conferences in history

II. Early Peace Conferences

• Congress of Vienna (1814-1815)
• Treaty of Versailles (1919)
• League of Nations (1920)

III. Interwar Period

• Washington Naval Conference (1921-1922)
• Locarno Treaties (1925)
• Kellogg-Briand Pact (1928)

IV. Post-World War II Peace Conferences

• United Nations (1945)
• Yalta Conference (1945)
• Potsdam Conference (1945)

V. Cold War Era Peace Conferences

• Geneva Summit (1955)
• Camp David Accords (1978)
• Reykjavik Summit (1986)

VI. Contemporary Peace Conferences

• Oslo Accords (1993)
• Dayton Agreement (1995)
• Paris Peace Conference (2015)

VII. Conclusion

• Impact and legacy of peace conferences
• Continued relevance in promoting global peace.

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