"Brothers."
The next day at noon, in the temporary dining hall in the oilfield area, Song Heping raised his can of Coca-Cola.
"Last night's operation was a great success. Today at noon, we're adding dishes to celebrate, feel free to eat as much as you want, and enjoy yourselves. Additionally—"
He intentionally drew out his tone, then paused, playing coy.
All the rcenaries from the two companies in front of him fixed their gazes on Song Heping, waiting for his next words.
"To thank you for your bravery last night, for the 12 injured company employees, after discussions by our managent, in addition to the insurance payouts for dical expenses, you will receive 2 months paid leave. After that, you can return to the company, and each injured employee will receive a $2000 subsidy!"
The attack on the headquarters of the Freedom Army had resulted in 12 Illigo rcenaries from "Musician" Defense suffering injuries.
But the injuries were not serious; after temporary battlefield treatnt, they had all been evacuated back, and now they had been admitted to a hospital in Baghdad. The most serious case would only need half a month to be discharged.
Even though insurance payouts were already covered, Song Heping had decided to give these hired local employees an additional reward to boost morale.
"Moreover, everyone who participated in last night's battle will receive a $200 mission bonus. After you finish eating, go see Mr. Ferrari to collect it."
"Oh! That's great!"
"That's aweso!"
"Thank you, boss!"
Cheers and whoops erupted from the ranks.
"I won't say much more. The roasted lamb is steaming hot, beverages are cooling in ice water, and the naan is freshly baked. So next, everyone eat to your heart's content. But—"
Song Heping once again deliberately prolonged his tone.
The place went quiet again.
"After eating, imdiately return to your workstations and responsibly man your positions according to the duty roster. Those who contribute to the company will be rewarded without fail! If anyone neglects their duty, they will be dismissed as soon as it's discovered! No personal feelings involved! Do you all understand?!"
"Understood!"
"Understood!"
The last "Understood" was said in Arabic.
This speech was made in Arabic.
Song Heping had asked Samir to teach it to him all morning before he had morized it.
After all, to get by in this region, relying solely on English wouldn't cut it.
There was an even more important reason, which was a sense of respect.
Sotis, people need a bit of respect in addition to money.
Especially when the money isn't much, giving a little respect to your employees can earn more loyalty.
Yuliy couldn't help but say to White Bear, "Look at Song, he's really stepped into his leadership role. When he first ca here, I didn't realize he had this talent."
The cook said, "I didn't see it either. He's naturally got leadership quality, not bad, stronger than ."
Yuliy asked the cook, "Boss, are you not jealous?"
Rolling his eyes, the cook replied, "Do I look like I'd be that petty? The thing I value the most is brotherhood, and there's only one kind of person I truly dislike."
Yuliy asked, "What kind of person?"
The cook said, "Traitors!"
The troops dispersed, everyone heading into the temporary dining hall.
Because they had won a victory, the atmosphere was incredibly lively.
Several hundred rcenaries sat at the tables, eating at heartily and downing soda. The whole temporary dining hall was as bustling as a vegetable market.
Song Heping sat down next to the cook and before he could start eating, Ferrari from across the table had already started chattering.
"Boss, our account has taken another big hit. With a wave of your hand just now, over eighty thousand dollars are gone from our account, leaving us with only a little over two hundred thousand dollars in liquid assets. There are still a couple of weeks until the next paynt from Wood Company is due, and you need to start spending more frugally."
Ferrari had only arrived that morning; Song Heping had sent him to make a trip to the oilfield with so cash to hand out cash rewards to the local rcenaries there.
Hearing this, Song Heping couldn't dodge the financial situation of the company any longer.
When the company started, it had two million dollars in liquid assets. In less than a month, it was down to just over two hundred thousand.
Money, oh money...
It cos fast, and it goes even faster.
It seed necessary to sell so arms stock to recoup so funds.
So he asked, "Cook, didn't you say soone back in your country wanted these arms?"
"Right," said the cook. "Are you thinking of selling the arms now? However, the Persians haven't agreed to give us a special passageway yet. If we can get the arms through Persia, we could enter Central Asia, and from there, we could deliver them."
"We haven't opened up a channel through Persia yet," Song Heping said. "The deal with Avanti was to help them complete the operation in Turknistan and capture Hassan, after which, he would pay us a million dollars in reward and agree to 'beco friends' with us."
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The cook said, "Heh, Persians are slick too, not releasing the hawk until they see the rabbit."
Song Heping said, "That's normal. Moreover, it's better to rely on oneself than on others. Rather than entrusting the lifeline of our munitions transportation routes to the Persians, we might as well think about how to get through the checkpoints ourselves and have control over our own fate."
With a cola bottle in hand, the cook pondered for a mont and said, "Do it ourselves? That's not easy. You have to realize that this is a job for professional arms dealers. Besides nations and big companies, the only others who deal in arms are underground rchants who operate out of sight. They have their own channels; why would they share with anyone?
Once you're selling arms, the profit margins are thin..."
His words left Song Heping silent.
The cook wasn't wrong.
This was a business that could make a lot of money.
In the world of underground dealings, the most profitable ventures are but a few—money laundering, selling drugs, arms dealing, human trafficking, smuggling gold or diamonds...
But in each of these lines, those who've entered the trade and are well established always guard against the newcors for fear of being washed up dead on the shore.
So it was impossible to share their transport routes and resources.
Unless under very special circumstances.
To forge our own path.
It wasn't impossible.
But it was difficult.
More difficult than ascending to heaven.
"Fine, you make contact first and see how much they want, what models, and where to deliver. I'll ponder the transport routes."
After assigning tasks to the cook, Song Heping turned to Ferrari.
"Ferrari, let's hear your opinion. If we were to transport a batch of arms to Central Asia and establish a transport route, if you were in our shoes, how would you do it?"
"Don't even think about overland routes; the best would be through Persia and then there's Siria."
Ferrari gnawed on his lamb and offered his answer without a second thought.
"Siria?"
Siria was to the west of Illigo, a neighboring country.
"Is it safe there?"
Ferrari glanced at the cook, "Doesn't he have comrades at the Russian Army base in Siria? There are warships there all year round. What's better than using a warship for smuggling?"
The cook snorted with laughter and said, "Ferrari, do you think the Russian Navy are street vendors? How much rchandise do we have here? How much profit could it possibly bring? Do you know how arms were transported when the forr Soviet Union collapsed? Tanks and planes were dismantled and shipped out. That's what I call big business.
Do you think they would care about our little stuff?"
Ferrari retorted, "That was then; arms dealing hasn't been that good in recent years. They can't afford to be picky anymore. Just having business is good enough!"
As the two were about to start arguing, Song Heping imdiately intervened to quell the dispute, "Enough, stop fighting; we're supposed to be figuring out a solution, not arguing."
He then asked Ferrari, "Aside from overland routes, what about by sea?"
Ferrari said, "The only mariti route for Illigo is through the port in Fao. Illigo is in a ss right now, and even the US Army is smuggling stuff back ho from there. If you had their privileges, it wouldn't be impossible. Once you get the paperwork, no matter what it is, you can ship it out."
Song Heping asked, "Including arms?"
Ferrari grinned, "Why not? I'll tell you, plenty of people here collect old-fashioned weapons left by the British, like the Sten submachine guns, or buy a good AKM for a few hundred bucks. They pack them as antiques and ship them back to Country M. The ranks haven't done too few of these deals."
"What? That's possible?" Song Heping never imagined such a channel existed—it was utterly mind-boggling!
Ferrari looked at Song Heping with a "why are you so surprised" expression, "What's so strange about it? Here an AKM costs three to four hundred; how much do they sell for in Country M? Well-maintained, good-origin guns can fetch several thousand US Dollars apiece.
Those Sten submachine guns hanging in Harvey's weapon store, don't look like trash here, but once they get back to Country M's holand, they beco antique guns. Well-maintained, functioning ones selling for over ten thousand US Dollars isn't surprising. Isn't that money?"
The cook said, "With such high profits, we might as well sell arms to Country M!"
Ferrari said, "Think it's that easy to just sell? You think ATF is a vegetarian? Besides, the volu isn't big. A private individual might make a little extra cash on the side, but you'd starve to death as an arms dealer relying on such sales volus!"
The cook snorted derisively, "This won't work, that won't work; all you've got is a mouth. Didn't you boast about how capable you are, able to fix anything in Baghdad? What now? Can't you sort this out? Get us so official paperwork for transporting goods, let us ship arms from Fao's port?"
Ferrari, irked by the cook's sarcasm, tossed aside the chop, angrily retorted, "I can get it! Money! If you give enough money, I can bribe every bureaucrat in the Baghdad Interim Managent Committee, from the supply departnt to customs, all the way to the police. It can be done if I grease palms properly, but the question is, how much money are you willing to give for this?!"
The cook was silenced by Ferrari's question, unable to retort.
Because he knew it was true.
So many checkpoints and approval departnts were not that easy to handle.
"I didn't say we absolutely have to do it that way. If it really doesn't work, we'll wait until the Persians open a special route for us," he conceded.
The discussion seed to have co full circle.
The issue of transporting arms hadn't been solved.
Song Heping had no good solution for the mont.
Just as he pondered the issue while eating, his phone rang.
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ATF: Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives, commonly known as the ATF.
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