[Chapter 547: Big Business]
"William, why did you go to Lanai again?"
"I've got my own life, you know. Business on Lanai isn't great right now, so I'm thinking about starting a training camp."
"I need to talk to you; the phone isn't convenient."
"Okay, I'll send a plane to fetch you."
William White had no idea what the guy wanted. He had made a new friend recently, and he was too caught up in the joy of it all to worry about anything else. Sometimes, friends could be quite the hassle.
"Master, I think I've figured out this guy's intentions."
"Go on."
"The CIA took a big hit in Kuwait, and their resources suffered severe losses. With Bush Jr. coming over, he might be looking to hire our security firm."
"No way, don't tell me they're short on people?"
"I'm afraid they might be pretty thin."
"Alright then, have Max fly over to talk things over."
Modern warfare was incredibly wasteful. A single missile could cost tens of millions of dollars, and there was no haggling. The U.S., being a superpower, had to provide aid to military contractors just to bolster its military capabilities.
The defense budget released by major powers was essentially nonsense; a lot of tax subsidies weren't accounted for. Otherwise, the U.S. would have sold off a lot of its assets long ago. Capitalists had no morals. If it weren't for those huge checks, patriotism would be meaningless. Making money was the name of the game. As long as the payments were substantial enough, jets like the F-35 and the F-22 would still sell.
...
Russia had fallen into the trap, recklessly competing with the U.S., and their Star Wars program eventually led to their bankruptcy in just a few moves.
America's Star Wars initiative was later proven to be a ruse. Intercepting a silly Scud missile took considerable effort, and intercepting intercontinental ballistic missiles was nearly impossible unless you knew the trajectory.
This whole scenario was just the U.S. entertaining itself. Drills were no problem; it was like making a movie. If it ever came down to real combat, they could just activate a self-destruct feature. Once the conflict actually broke out, reality would hit hard.
The Scud was a short-range missile with less than a thirty percent success rate -- less in actual combat. It relied almost entirely on luck. In contrast, intercontinental missiles used decoys and multiple warheads, and they were much faster than Scuds. The idea of intercepting them was simply a pipe dream.
"William, this place is absolutely gorgeous."
"Don't flatter yourself; I know you can't appreciate this. Your wife might be a different story."
"Ha, you big shot! What are you treating us to today?"
"French cuisine and Kobe beef."
"Fantastic, I'm in the mood for a lot of beef."
"Don't worry, buddy. I had one killed today; it'll be enough for us."
"Alright then, I'll take two with me when I leave."
"Feel free. Just let them handle the business first; let's grab a drink."
"Sounds good."
"Max, you go and discuss things. If any issues come up that can't be resolved, call me."
"Sure thing, sir!"
William White wasn't interested in getting tangled up with the CIA. He wasn't really the boss anyway. In fact, they didn't want to deal with him; he just needed to show a cooperative attitude, and the details would be handled by his subordinates.
"William, you've been shearing quite a bit off your profits lately," Bush Jr. said cheekily.
"Why would we not shear the sheep we've fattened up? Should we wait for them to fall over on their own?"
"Ha ha! There are rumors going around that you're close with the CIA."
"Come on, buddy, the money's with the CIA. Shouldn't I take that seriously?"
"They're just a bunch of old-timers; ignore them."
"Hey, enough about that today. What's with the fanfare? It's not a huge issue."
"The military wants to hand over some work to security firms. I wanted to see what you thought. The CIA is just a side note."
"Wow, now that's annoying. There's no profit in maintaining security, and I don't want to deal with anything dangerous."
"Who told you it's not profitable? There's a lot of money at stake."
"Fine, fine, I'll count you in, but only if we make a good deal."
"Now we're talking. Those expenses are piling up!"
"You can't just spend money at home. I can offer it to you, but you won't dare to take it."
"At least I could buy some diamonds in Africa."
"Leave that to me. No problem at all. There's a gem processing factory on Lanai, and it's completely off the books."
"Got it, let's drink."
William White hadn't expected the security firm to have this perk. The contracts for military service with the U.S. were getting bigger and bigger. Later, Blackwater practically ballooned in profits.
How could a retired colonel have this kind of clout?
Generals couldn't even manage it, and later contracts worth hundreds of billions were up for grabs. There was no telling how many people made a killing from that.
Everyone played it straight in domestic, but once abroad, it was two different worlds. There was no way you could fight by the book.
"Next up is teaching Saddam a lesson; there's definitely a lot of potential here. How can we cash in on this?" William White kept muttering to himself.
A war ravaged Kuwait, and the U.S. reaped no benefits after hammering away at it. In later years, they even hung the guy in charge -- what a disgrace.
To fund America's war, Kuwait sold off a lot of overseas assets, amounting to nearly twenty billion dollars! Even twenty years later, those assets could easily be worth two hundred billion, at least eighty billion is easy.
Kuwait essentially got scammed by the U.S. As America's traditional ally, they boosted oil exports in response to U.S. calls, crashing oil prices from over thirty dollars a barrel to around ten.
After eight years of conflict, Iraq was now broke. They owed Kuwait nearly twenty billion dollars!
Now that the fighting was over, they needed to develop their economy, but they were out of cash. Kuwait was also digging its own grave. Expanding production was fine; the worst the U.S. could do was complain. But when they expanded production near U.S. oil fields, that was a whole different ball game.
Oil down below moves around too; if your equipment is good and your pumping is fast, the neighboring oil will flow right to you. In no time, you'd pump it all dry, leaving them sobbing without a drop left.
If Iraq wasn't broke, they definitely wouldn't dare to strike. After eight years of war, they were pretty much done with fighting.
"I'm telling you, George, the populace isn't keen on war. Don't say I didn't warn you -- your dad's actions could lead to trouble in the upcoming elections."
"Ugh, who knew those fools would mess things up? It should have been smooth sailing, and they just went ahead and started a war! My old man was hoping to deal with Gaddafi first."
Bush Jr. wasn't speaking out of line. His father was struggling hard now, and if there had been any reasonable alternatives, he wouldn't want to go to war in the first place.
*****
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