Song Heping felt sowhat hesitant as he made this request.
After all, it was one hundred million pounds, not one hundred million US dollars.
He was actually quite shocked himself to be making such a bold demand.
Just four years ago, he was ecstatic over a re ten or twenty thousand US dollars.
When he joined the "Musician" team, his monthly salary was just a thousand, and he had to rely on commissions to get by.
Now, he spoke of sums in the billions as if it were nothing.
To say it was a world of difference would be an understatent.
But such is the curious nature of reality.
The more one has, the more one wants—especially when it cos to money.
Once you've tasted wealth, there's no going back.
With a contract worth 2.4 billion in Illiguo, and yearly earnings in the tens of billions of US dollars from xico, businesses not worth hundreds of millions barely piqued his interest.
Not to ntion, he was well aware of the situation in Southern Afghan, having previously participated in an undercover mission there with Mist.
After so thought, Evans responded, "Allow to make a phone call."
"Sure, of course," Song Heping said. "Take your ti."
With permission granted, Evans walked straight into the banquet hall, then veered off into the hallway, stopping in front of a floor-to-ceiling window. After looking around to ensure no one was nearby, he pulled out his phone.
"Good evening, Mr. Owen."
Upon connecting the call, Evans exchanged greetings, then continued without waiting for a question, "I've run into Song Heping at a defense forum in DC."
"Really? What a coincidence?"
The Mr. Owen on the other end of the line seed quite surprised.
"Wasn't he recently in xico?"
"Yes, it's possible that he has tied up his business there and thus ca to DC."
"Did you talk to him?"
"Yes, I did."
"What was his attitude?"
"According to our initial plan, the acquisition won't work; he doesn't agree."
"The acquisition would be best."
"He refuses."
"Is it a matter of price?"
"He didn't even ask about the price."
"Hmm..." Owen seed sowhat disappointed, "Then what about a partnership?"
"He agreed to that."
"That's good, then. Secure the contract with him as soon as possible."
"But there is one thing..."
Hearing the hesitation in Evans' voice, Owen quickly asked, "Is there so complication?"
"He's asking for a lot, he's really shooting for the moon."
"How much?"
"Just for the training contract in Kandahar, he's quoting one hundred million."
"One hundred million?!"
Owen was also sowhat taken aback.
"If it's too high, I'll go back and negotiate with him, try to bring the price down," Evans said. "I also think the price is too high."
"No surprise there. His company already has a 240 million US dollar contract per year in Illiguo, plus the security contracts for two oil fields. In xico, he's collaborating with the CIA to control the drug trade, which is also quite profitable. Our offer of thirty million pounds was really an underestimate of his worth."
"You an..."
"I never thought we'd sign him for thirty million pounds to begin with," Owen said. "If he's counter-offering, then a hundred million it is."
"One billion... Is he really worth it?" Evans was shocked.
Owen said, "Evans, haven't you seen the current situation clearly yet? Why would Aricans suddenly hand over command to the British Army? Do you think they really feel they are insufficient? No, it's a step back to move forward. The military heads in the Pentagon are clear about this, as are the politicians in the White House and the old gents on Congress Hill. If the Aricans want other countries to also taste the bitterness of Afghanistan, to drag in the British Army, as long as they bring in the British Army, they could drag the armies of other European countries into the water as well. Look, in just six months, we Europeans had only a few thousand combatants in Afghanistan, and now we have increased to over thirty thousand. But these thirty thousand might still not be enough. Our lords in the parliant are always overconfident. They are always thinking of the glorious days of the past Great Britain, always thinking of returning to that era, only... the strength no longer permits it…"
At this point, Owen fell silent.
"The Pri Minister probably stepped into the Arican's trap this ti, that's why he is urging us contractors to keep increasing our forces to aid their operations there. No matter the cost, they will pay. The Aricans have already invested over two hundred billion US dollars in the Afghan battlefield in the past years, and our Pri Minister is said to be investing hundreds of billions of pounds to ensure victory on the anti-terrorism battlefield in Afghanistan. What's one billion? Give it to him! We have signed a twenty-billion order with the Ministry of Defense this ti, afraid of not being able to afford this small amount of money?"
"Understood, Mr. Owen." Having heard this, Elson no longer raised objections: "Then I will go talk to him now."
"Go, you must sign him. Rember, this is an instruction I am giving you."
"Don't worry, I'll handle it."
After ending the call, in a building with a hundred years of history in the South Kensington District of London, Owen stood up with his mobile phone and walked from his desk to the window.
It was already one o'clock in the morning.
The moon had slipped into the clouds above London's sky, and the streets outside had descended into darkness.
As the president of the Jie Fushi Group, he had not told Evans the entire truth just now.
The British Army definitely couldn't shoulder the burden.
Of that there was no doubt.
Great Britain was long past the days of the empire on which the sun never sets, with only the na left now.
The Aricans' withdrawal wasn't as simple as just wanting the British Army to send more troops.
A confidant from within the Cabinet had confided that during military etings, soone had warned the Pri Minister that this was a trap set by the Aricans.
The Aricans' goal was clear: not only to force the allies, especially the British Army, to send more troops but also plotting that when the British can no longer hold on and the command needs to be exchanged in the future, they would take unified control of the command, including that of NATO International Support Forces.
From the beginning of the war, despite the United States being a mber of NATO and also the leader of the Western allies, their command had always been limited to directing their own troops. In reality, NATO International Support Forces were more about observation and support, with command still under the authority of their own countries.
It's like the little brothers are cheering from the sidelines, watching Big Brother Arica charge in front, incidentally basking in the glow of Western anti-terrorism.
The war has been fought for seven years, and the Aricans have long been fed up with this loose command system.
That's why the Pentagon ca up with this retreat-to-advance, cicada-shedding strategy.
But even knowing the trap, the ambitious Pri Minister was too confident, thinking that this is a great opportunity for Britain to re-erge on the international stage.
Owen's contacts in the military inford him that taking over command would certainly end in failure, and in the end, the command would certainly go back into Arican hands, and the command of the entire coalition forces would ultimately concentrate in the Pentagon.
Owen trusts the judgnt of his people; he needs to leave a way out for himself.
At least, after the Aricans regain control of the entire coalition forces, the Jie Fushi Group could still claim a substantial share in the lucrative Afghan market.
How politicians plot against each other, he does not care.
Business cos first.
Profit is what's worth cheering for.
After a brief reflection, he picked up his mobile phone and dialed another number.
"Ms. Kelly, the fish has bitten the bait."
Song Heping stood on the terrace, looking at the lights emanating from the Congress building in the distance, and Evans finally returned to his side.
"Mr. Song."
He was still very polite.
Song Heping smiled politely: "Mr. Evans, have you finished inquiring with your superiors?"
"I have," Evans said. "Our president agrees to your demands, a training contract, valued at one billion pounds."
"What about the advance?" Song Heping asked.
"It'll be paid monthly, in advance for one month," Evans said. "For the details of the contract, we can et tomorrow to discuss them, try to sign the contract as soon as possible, and you can also start preparing to bring in your people soon. We really do need a lot of manpower urgently on our side."
"It's evident," Song Heping said. "I need to stay in the Washington Area for six days. When do you want in place?"
"No more than a month," Evans asked. "Can you do it?"
"How many people?"
"The number is up to you. As long as you can fulfill the contract requirents, we don't mind if it's just you, we wouldn't hesitate to give this one billion pound contract to just one person," Evans joked coldly.
"Alright, tomorrow at 9 o'clock, the Marriott Hotel, let's et sowhere."
"No problem, I look forward to a pleasant collaboration."
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