"William, the disputes in the desert region are about to wrap up. The general conditions have been agreed upon, and both sides have consented to a temporary ceasefire. Resolution 598 will be honored."
"Ha! That cracks me up. Now they remember that resolution?"
"Don't worry about it. I'm calling to tell you that for a considerable time to come, the world's going to know peace because everyone's worn out from fighting. Even Angola's in negotiations now. Plus, it seems the head of the CIA isn't too happy with you."
"Not happy with me? Why's that? I didn't say a word when they were secretly trading with Gaddafi. After your dad took charge, I strongly suggested they switch folks; that guy's an idiot."
"You can't be serious? Who gave them the nerve?"
William White chuckled coldly, "Seriously? Those jerks will do anything to make a buck, all in the name of national security. But you don't need to worry about this. Our treasury's empty; we don't have the cash to send them to other countries to stir up trouble, so switching people for your dad won't help."
Bush Jr. got it. This was beyond his control; even his old man might just have to turn a blind eye.
Now that he had the concrete news, William White was pleased. As long as there wasn't any war. He really didn't understand; after all those years of fighting, even if they did win, could it really make up for the losses of the last eight years?
...
"How's our auction house doing, Filson?"
"Sir, in about a month we'll be ready. We've also worked things out with Christie's, and they're preparing the lots."
"Remind them, the economy's looking good, and there will be no shortage of wealthy folks from Europe, America, and Japan. By the way, Filson, any progress on the mobile communication standards?"
"Negotiations are slow, but thankfully, their development pace has slowed down. Despite the subsidies, it's still a corporate move, and no one wants to throw money down the drain."
"Looks like we should apply for some aid too. Didn't they say moving production to Japan would make money for high-tech development? So, the burning question is, where's the money?"
"We can apply, but the labs will be under scrutiny."
"What's the harm? Let's pull this project out for development."
"Sure thing, sir. I'll get that arranged."
...
The newly completed White Center was buzzing with activity as it hosted a charity gala that night.
"Sir, we donated so much food, yet so many people are still starving. Do we need to improve the irrigation systems or something?"
William White paused for a moment, then chuckled, "Haha! Well, we might as well give them more potatoes since they've turned everything to mush. People die from droughts, they die from locusts; sending food is the best bet. If you just hand 'em cash, they'll trade it for AK-47s."
"Are you kidding? Why donate at all? They need that energy to keep fighting, huh?"
"If you insist on interpreting this like crocodile tears, I can't help you. That's the gist of it. At least it makes us donors feel a bit better."
William White wasn't the organizer of the dinner. He merely sponsored the venue and the food. He wouldn't have bothered if Bush Jr. hadn't pleaded with him.
The civil war in Angola had dragged on for thirteen years, and it was unclear what would remain of the country.
"William, thanks for this," Bush Jr. said.
"Let's not dwell on that. It's a small matter. I mean, your old man has it all wrapped up, right? Planning to wipe everyone out?"
Bush Jr. rolled his eyes. If the economic situation hadn't shifted, his old man would truly be in hot water.
"Come over and say hi to my old man later. He's got high hopes for you."
"Sure thing. So, Angola isn't going to fight anymore?"
"Fight? Almost everyone's dead! I'm amazed they managed to fight for ten years."
William White mentally scoffed. If it wasn't for the Americans and Soviets, these folks wouldn't have been so crazy to fight for this long.
A crowd of suited big shots pretended to care about the suffering of the African people. Many even contributed valuable auction items.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, Angola had been devastated, and no one seemed interested in the ruins. Africa had plenty of land, and mineral resources were abundant. There was little point in pouring money into rebuilding.
The two superpowers, the U.S. and the Soviet Union, were tired of being adversaries; they wanted to focus on economic development. Continued hostility would only drag both sides down, and as for the mess left behind, it was no one's concern.
...
After the charity event, William White dove back into his busy schedule. He was genuinely swamped; the industrial businesses had a ton more issues to worry about than his previous shell companies.
Production hadn't officially started yet. He believed that once they did, things would get even trickier.
"Filson, see if there's anyone suitable at GM or Toyota. I need to implement lean production."
"Sir, it seems GM isn't even pursuing that anymore. Maybe look at Japan?"
"GM can't manage lean production because their workers won't cooperate. They're underutilized right now, so let's bring them back."
"Sure, sir. I'll get the headhunting company on it."
"Actually, we don't need headhunters for Japan; we can go directly to our shareholders."
*****
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