Aunt Nancy agreed because the dish was a classic Italian appetizer.
With her Italian heritage, she grew up eating Italian als at ho, so she found the flavors of her hotown irresistible.
Especially when a bald, burly rcenary claid he could make the dish, her curiosity was completely piqued.
Song Heping had also vaguely guessed the cook's intention.
The guy wanted to play up to her liking.
The thod was fine, but to achieve the desired effect, one had to have real skill.
Otherwise, it would backfire.
After all, the lady was no ordinary person; she wasn't easy to please.
If the results didn't live up to expectations, there was a chance Aunt Nancy wouldn't give Angel any face, and neither he nor the cook would get any business.
However, Song Heping's jaw soon dropped.
Less than fifteen minutes later, the cook ca back.
When Song Heping first caught sight of the cook, the sparkling wine he had just sipped almost sprayed out!
The guy had actually...
He had taken off his coat, and now he had sohow donned a waiter's tailcoat suit over his clothes, white gloves on his hands, holding a plate—a bald waiter!
"Madam, your appetizer."
The cook elegantly placed the lon and prosciutto roll in front of Aunt Nancy and said with a slight bow, "lon and prosciutto roll."
Then, with the waiter's help, he placed the other dishes
in front of everyone.
When serving Song Heping, he couldn't help but ask in a low voice, "What's going on?"
The cook winked at Song Heping, twisted the corner of his mouth with a smile, then turned and left.
Aunt Nancy stared at the lon and prosciutto roll in front of her for a good while before picking up a fork and taking a bite.
The mont the food touched her mouth, her eyes twinkled like lights ignited in the darkness.
"Oh! My God!"
She exclaid devoutly, "I never thought I could taste such authentic Italian cuisine in Illiguo..."
Then, sowhat eagerly, she forked another piece into her mouth.
"Mmm..."
Aunt Nancy half-closed her eyes.
"Delicious."
She then turned to look at her assistant, Julie.
"Go tell Mr. Remondo I'll need to stay here longer; ask him to wait," she said.
Hearing this, Song Heping was astounded.
He heard Aunt Nancy loud and clear.
When he arrived, Angel ntioned that his Aunt Nancy was very busy, with three different etings with officials arranged just for that evening, so they could only have up to fifteen minutes, probably leaving after the second course, missing dessert.
But he never expected...
That Whip Aunt Nancy would actually volunteer to extend the eting ti.
He quickly tasted a piece of the lon and prosciutto roll, wanting to see what trick the cook had used to make an experienced, sixty-sothing Aunt Nancy make such an exception.
As he tasted the roll, Song Heping had to admit the cook indeed had a trick up his sleeve.
The sweet and sticky lon, the rich flavor of the Italian Parma ham slice, plus that critical piece of mint leaf achieved a clever balance of taste, with the mint providing a fresh sensation that went straight to the head.
Brilliant!
Song Heping silently praised in his mind.
The cook wasn't bluffing!
A rough man in his forties actually knew how to make gourt Italian cuisine?
It was mind-boggling!
Just when everyone had finished the appetizer and was sipping so sparkling wine, the cook appeared in the dining room again.
This ti he presented a dish of osso buco risotto.
The slightly yellow sauce spread over the rice, and the golden-brown veal shank glistened.
Although Song Heping didn't know the origin of this dish, he could tell it was cut from a beef shank bone.
"Oh!"
Aunt Nancy had already started to radiate her smile.
"Marvelous."
She turned to Wood.
"This dish is also called Milanese risotto, a delicacy from the Lombardy Region; my family lived there for a long ti, and my mother often made this dish for when I was a girl!"
She didn't skimp on her praise.
"Mr. Yevgeny, I'm lucky to have dinner with you tonight, and I appreciate you bringing such delicious dishes. Although I would like for you to continue cooking for , you are the guest, and it would be impolite to ask, please have a seat; let's enjoy this delicacy together," she said.
"Thank you, Ms. Nancy," the cook calmly turned to take a bottle of red wine from the waiter's hands and presented it before Aunt Nancy.
```
"Originally, it was supposed to be paired with a French Burgundy red wine, but I took the liberty of switching to this one, hoping you'll like it."
```
Nancy's eyes beca hazy as she cast her gaze upon the bottle of wine.
Her eyes lit up with stars once again.
"A '97 Garden of Chehel Sotoun red wine?"
"Yes, ma'am, I thought this Italian flavor suits you better, and the production from that year received high ratings."
He spoke as he skillfully opened the wine and poured Nancy a glass.
"It's a pity that the wine needs so ti to breathe; you'd probably have to drink it slowly to appreciate the essence of this bottle."
"No problem."
Nancy picked up her wine glass and swayed it gently.
"I have an hour to spare."
The al lasted a full hour and nine minutes.
Song Heping kept ti by his watch.
It was many tis longer than the previous etings that had maxed out at fifteen minutes.
Besides, they secured a big order.
Initially, Nancy had asked Wood to fob off Song Heping and the chef with a minor security contract for a small oil field.
However, Nancy changed her mind on the spot.
She instructed Wood to hand over the largest Hassan Oil Field near Mosul to the "Musician" rcenary Group.
There was no doubt that the eting was a success.
Leaving the hotel, Song Heping couldn't help but praise the chef, "I never expected you had this trick up your sleeve! Did you go to culinary school?"
"Right. For nine years," the chef said.
"The prison kitchen?"
Song Heping suddenly rembered that the chef had served nine years in prison.
The chef chuckled, "Of course. Prisons are full of talent. You can learn anything there. I t an old man who used to cook for the generals at the Kremlin."
Back at their own camp, he relayed the news to everyone.
White Bear and the others were thrilled, but Ferrari was silent off to the side.
"Ferrari, you seem preoccupied?"
"Why are you all so happy?" Ferrari huffed.
"It's a big deal!" Song Heping said. "Just the monthly security fee alone is as high as 900,000 US dollars."
Ferrari replied, "Sure, one oil field is paying you so much money—it's indeed a sweet gig. But that money won't be easy to earn."
Then, turning to the chef, he asked, "Got a map?"
The chef quickly brought over a map of Illiguo.
Ferrari pointed to the location of the Hassan Oil Field and said, "Take a look. What's this location? To the left is Siria, bordered with the Chicken Country up top, Persia to the right, and Mosul at the back—a true quadruple kill zone. The money's good, but you have to be alive to spend it!"
Song Heping looked towards the Hassan Oil Field.
Just as Ferrari had said.
It was indeed a quadruple kill zone.
After the war started, all sorts of refugees and anti-Country M ard forces retreated northward, with most streaming into Siria and Persia, while the Chicken Country wasn't easy to deal with either, as they were bolstering their own forces at the border to fight for territory.
These were the primary forces attacking the oil fields, and Mosul was the most active region for resistance organizations in Illiguo. Moreover, since Sadam's disappearance, the anti-Country M ard groups throughout Illiguo had beco radicalized.
Just recently, two Country M citizens were captured by ard organizations in that area. They fild a live beheading and released the video online, which Song Heping had also seen.
If the Suicide Squad loyal to Sadam had so semblance of a bottom line—only attacking the allied forces—then the militants active around Mosul were bona fide extremist fanatics.
Most of these guys were brainwashed and fearless of death, often driving bomb-laden cars straight through checkpoints and blowing themselves up along with the US Army.
"I don't think it's too difficult. Look, there are quite a few allied camps near Mosul. If we do encounter an attack, we can call for aerial support to help us defend," the chef said. "Once the A10 attack aircraft arrives, no amount of ard militants will stick around. We'd just need to hold out for 30 minutes, and air support would arrive."
Song Heping said, "I think the biggest problem now is that we don't have enough hands. Wood Company's engineering team will be moving into Hassan Oil Field next week, and we only have six days to prepare. This is the biggest challenge—where to find such experienced veterans."
"Sad," the chef asked, "how many people do you think we need?"
Song Heping said, "The more, the better, of course. But if we have too many, the money we earn won't even cover the salaries. Besides, in doing business, we must make a profit. I think... at least 60 local security personnel as a minimum guarantee, and we also need to procure so Humvees. The firepower must reach the level of a platoon, and we need to expand our team to 9 mbers.
That is, aside from Ferrari, we have to recruit 4 more people. This way, we can at least form three tactical teams."
"Alright! I'll take care of the core team mbers. I'll use my connections to see if anyone's willing to join us. As for the local security personnel, I don't think that would be a big issue. People in Illiguo are desperate for money now. Offer them two to three hundred US dollars a month, and they'd probably be willing to risk their lives for you!" the chef hamred ho the final decision.
"Today, I'm setting a rule here: from now on, Ferrari will manage our company's logistics and administration, I'll handle external business contacts, and Sad will be in charge of the company's tactical and military planning. With this arrangent, does anyone have objections?" the chef proposed.
Although White Bear and the others were veterans, the chef had co to realize that Song Heping's military talent was the highest among them. He was the most suitable for military command.
And for White Bear and the others, Song Heping had already proven his abilities in previous operations.
"I agree."
"No problem."
"I just like being my own sniper, I don't care about the rest."
Everyone agreed with the chef's arrangent.
That night marked the official comncent of the "Musician" Defense Consulting Company's operation, as well as its first shareholders' eting.
Song Heping and the other initial shareholders finalized the response strategy for their first big contract in a container room.
When everything was done, the chef extended his hand, "Fellas, whether we eat caviar or rye bread in the future depends on this!"
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