At eight o'clock in the evening, the lights were bright in the banquet hall on the third floor of the hotel.
The walls of the hall were elegantly decorated with gold and white, complented by the deep color of mahogany, creating an atmosphere that was both solemn and lively. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling like falling stars, casting soft and warm light.
Famous paintings and small sculptures adorned the four walls, and the carpet underfoot was made of high-quality wool, handwoven with exquisite patterns. Setting foot on it felt soft and comfortable, revealing a low-key luxury without making a sound.
Song Heping had just t with a few guests who had delivered speeches at the afternoon International Defense Forum, including Simmons, the deputy head of the Overseas Anti-Terrorism Task Force.
Simmons was a talkative man, articulating US policies on overseas counterterrorism clearly, but as far as Song Heping was concerned, politicians like him only spoke in data derived from reports submitted from the front lines.
Only Song Heping himself knew just how much water those reports carried.
In his view, Arica's overseas counterterrorism efforts were so splendid they were practically unbeatable, not just good but extrely good.
From a politician's mouth, one heard no talk of bloodshed, only interests; human lives were reduced to re numbers.
Song Heping had a much deeper understanding of the cruelty on the front lines than Simmons, and faced with this windy politician, he could only listen patiently, extracting the stance of the United States Governnt on the two concurrent counterterrorism wars from his words.
Though the conversation with Simmons was as tasteless as chicken ribs, it was also too valuable to discard like them.
After ending the talk, Angel ran into so acquaintances, and Song Heping took the opportunity to slip away to find sothing to eat.
At events like this, what you heard were perfunctory conversations; the most important part was to distribute business cards, letting others recognize who you were.
Perhaps one day, soone here might need his assistance in business, rembering him, and only then would the significance of attending such tedious banquets be realized.
The long table was covered with a snow-white tablecloth, upon which lay delicate silver cutlery and colorful glassware.
Each dish was exquisite, but the portions were very small. Most were snacks like smoked salmon with dragon fruit puree on corn cakes. So snacks were pitifully small; for instance, scooping small balls from cantaloupe with a spoon, sandwiching thinly sliced peaches with a tiny bit of air-dried ham, and then skewering them on toothpicks to be considered a snack.
Western-style cocktail parties had always been sothing Song Heping utterly detested.
These parties reeked with the sa hypocrisy prevalent in Arican politics.
Seeing toothpicks, Song Heping was reminded of Arican political networking rules Angel had once explained to him.
It was said that there was an "appetizer toothpick" law in Old Arica. Lobbyists for corporations or industries were not allowed to host banquets for mbers of Congress and federal officials, but they could invite them to cocktail parties.
The law had three stipulations for these parties: first, no formal als were allowed; second, no formal tables or chairs could be arranged, guests had to stand while eating and drinking; third, all food at the party had to be eaten with toothpicks or held with fingers.
Looking at the pitiful food, Song Heping thought about his military transportation contract worth over two hundred million US dollars a year, half of which was destined to fill the pockets of Peter and the military bigwigs behind him. How much of this money would pass through the generals' hands to the pockets of the bigwigs in Congress?
Especially the newly t congressman like Simmons; the military people would definitely listen to him, after all, many appropriation bills had to be approved by the Military Committee.
A single toothpick was just a facade, it couldn't stop the military top brass and intelligence departnts from scooping up money.
For at-loving Song Heping, the food was too bland, almost to the point where it couldn't fill his stomach.
"Words 'legs are at too'..."
Song Heping had no choice but to stand by the table, stealthily continuing to put snacks into his mouth like a thief, but he couldn't keep taking too many at once. After picking up a few items, he had to change his spot and not focus on a single dish too avidly, avoiding any overly rude behavior.
"Mr. Song."
Just as Song Heping was reaching for the third dish to eat the smoked salmon inside, a rich baritone suddenly sounded from behind, distinctly authentic British accent.
Song Heping quickly turned around and saw a man behind him wearing a black suit, a proper bowtie at his neck, and with slightly graying hair.
"You are..."
He was certain he didn't know this fellow.
"Here's my business card."
The man opposite him reached out politely with a card.
Song Heping accepted it with both hands courteously and looked at it, a smile involuntarily spreading across his face.
"A peer..."
The business card bore two lines. The top line read "Britain's Jie Fushi Security Group", and below it was the man's na and position—Simon Kelson (Vice President).
"Mr. Kelson, good to et you. This is my business card. It seems we are in the sa line of work."
Song Heping also took out his own business card and handed it over.
But Kelson accepted it politely without looking at it while continuing, "I am very aware of who you are, Song Heping, the current coalition transportation contractor from Illiguo, a rising star in defense."
Song Heping was taken aback, thinking that this old man clearly had a specific matter to discuss with him, having deeply investigated him already.
"Have we t before?"
"No, we haven't." Kelson said, "I happened to overhear your conversation with Mr. Simmons earlier and that's when I noticed you. I think there might be so potential collaboration between us worth discussing."
A thought struck Song Heping.
This cocktail party was well worth attending.
He had initially thought that tonight's gathering was rely a routine social engagent, without expecting that it might actually bring in new business.
"Could we find a quiet place to talk?" Kaelson seed very proactive as he motioned towards the outside terrace, "I'm not fond of the music here."
"Sure, no problem," Song Heping said. "But first, I need to inform my companion so that she doesn't think I've gotten lost later."
"I'll wait for you on the terrace, looking forward to your arrival."
After speaking, Elson politely nodded slightly, bowed, and then turned to walk towards the terrace.
"The Jie Fushi Group?"
Song Heping couldn't help but to take another look at the business card.
This Old Brit, well, he's quite polite, it felt like a breath of fresh air.
He went over to Angel and whispered in her ear that he needed to discuss so matters with Elson.
Upon learning that it was with the Jie Fushi Security Group, Angel seed surprised: "The group is not small; this year, they've been aggressively rging with other defense companies. Two months ago, they just acquired the longstanding British PMC Armoured Group International and currently, it's said that their business volu in Afghan is very large."
After she finished, she leaned closer to Song Heping's ear and added, "There are rumors that the Jie Fushi Group has a very close relationship with the current commander of the coalition forces in Afghan, Chariz. There's no harm in talking to him."
"Alright, I'll be back shortly."
Upon hearing this piece of information, the initial confusion in Song Heping's mind started to dissipate.
He had a hunch that the conversation might have sothing to do with Afghan.
As for what it was exactly, that depended on what the vice president Elson was going to say next.
Soon, on the terrace where Elson was waiting in the wind, Song Heping arrived.
"Mr. Elson, the matter you wanted to discuss tonight is probably related to Afghan, isn't it?"
Song Heping cut straight to the chase with his question.
Elson smiled and said, "It seems there's a reason your company has risen rapidly to beco a new star in the defense world in just a few years. Your judgnt is strong. Indeed, it's about Afghan, but—"
He revealed a sly smile, paused the conversation for a mont, then slowly said, "First and foremost, there is another matter I wish to discuss."
"What's the issue?" Song Heping's brow furrowed slightly, sensing sothing amiss.
Elson said, "Is your company open to rgers?"
"rger?" Song Heping was stunned.
He had truly never considered this possibility.
He had just heard from Angel that Elson's Jie Fushi Group had been actively acquiring defense companies over the past year.
But he hadn't expected that his own company would catch their attention.
As his company was still fundantally very basic in structure, why would they be interested?
"Mr. Elson, we are not a big company. Why would you be interested in ours?"
"We are burgeoning, and we are one of Britain's oldest defense groups. rgers are very common in business," Elson said. "Joining us, becoming part of our group, will afford your company better developnt opportunities because our resources are quite formidable."
Without even thinking, Song Heping shook his head: "I'm sorry, Mr. Elson, my company may be small, but it has no interest in being acquired by other groups."
Elson stated, "After acquisition, you could receive a substantial sum of money, or even convert part of it into shares of our company, becoming a shareholder. Isn't that good? Many small companies wish to be acquired and then land ashore as shareholders."
Song Heping thought, damn, I could be acquired by you? How would you go about that?
I'm not even publicly listed.
Secondly, do you have any idea what I do?
Do I confess to you the nature of my business, that I sell arms to ELN and FARC, collaborate with the CIA in xico as a shadow operative earning 10% commission every year?
He even laughed to himself at the thought.
Elson found it odd and asked, "Mr. Song, what are you laughing at?"
Song Heping shook his head: "The sa as before – my company may be small, but it's not interested in rgers."
With that said, he turned to leave.
Seeing him go, Elson hurriedly called out to Song Heping: "Wait, Mr. Song, are you not interested in the opportunities in Afghan? That place is a goldmine for defense companies."
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