[Chapter 552: Deterrence]
In America, there were talks of revenge brewing, while Kuwait was desperately seeking help. At this point, whether it was an American plot was impossible to gauge. Even if Saddam put forth the supposed evidence, they had no intention of admitting to anything.
"If it really comes down to it, can't you just shift the blame to the temp workers? No big deal. Since ancient times, the strongest have always had the say. Look at the Soviets; they occupied Afghanistan for so many years. What explanations did they offer? If pressed, they'd just say they used the wrong map."
William White, while pulling out of Africa, quickly realized Moussa Koussa had seen it coming. Unfortunately, Moussa Koussa's power was insufficient. If he took any rash actions now, he was sure to face failure again.
As he pondered whether to teach those guys a lesson, a thunderous noise suddenly erupted.
After fifteen minutes of relentless bombing, a group of Apache helicopters swaggered away. Aside from some rubble, all that remained was a faint sound of wailing.
Moussa Koussa, who had barely crawled out from the dirt, could only weep helplessly.
"Crazy, these are a bunch of lunatics. This is still a country; why are they so reckless?"
"Cough, sir, Moussa Koussa has been making too many moves lately. He's practically asking for trouble."
After all that, the security team began to withdraw calmly. As the boss had said, there was no need to bring back excess ammunition. It would be better to leave a memorable impression.
With great difficulty, William White's forces said farewell to Africa, taking nothing back. Neither the locals nor the CIA and the French were left without shock.
Deterrence?
Indeed, William White's goal was deterrence. He was confident that when he set foot on this continent again, they would have a proper conversation with him.
The way to handle a villain was to be even more vicious. To deal with a lunatic, you had to let him know you were crazier.
Moussa Koussa left once more, accompanied by a group of stunned companions. This time, he was genuinely scared. A single maniac might not be so frightening, but a group of maniacs was just too terrifying -- especially when they were highly skilled.
Yes, that's the word: skilled.
What terrified Moussa Koussa most was the group's ability to seize opportunities. He felt certain that every move he made here had never slipped from others' sight.
Being beaten up was one thing; being beaten up repeatedly was another. It was just too humiliating. As an intelligence officer, he understood these nuances all too well.
Of course, he did not believe that William White's security team had that capability. The humiliations he endured were all the CIA's doing.
He even suspected that the so-called security was merely a facade. The true puppeteer behind it all must be that evil CIA.
...
As for whether the CIA would end up crying in the bathroom again, William White did not care. Their actions usually went hand in hand with being jerks.
What left him speechless was that they were still training Laden. William White believed that if the United States planned to punish Saddam this time, Laden would certainly step in. Full throttle too.
He couldn't wrap his head around how the U.S. ended up in such a mess. Did the CIA's head honcho steal this guy's wife? Or at the very least, cause some trouble? Otherwise, it made no sense.
"William, you say you want to retreat, but do you really need to make such a big fuss?"
"It wasn't me. If you don't believe it, you can go ask Gaddafi."
"Come on, they sent me to relay that message. But how on earth did you pull this off?"
"George, I'm just a businessman; I can't be too radical. I think Gaddafi understands that."
"You're really something else."
Bush Jr. was confused. He just couldn't figure it out. This was already blatant; how could they still mess up the target?
While he puzzled over it, William White was even more baffled. These were all smart people; how could they still do such stupid things?
What was the plan to shape Afghanistan? Why care so much? With tribes and religions pulling strings, it was complicated enough without dragging democracy into it.
Alright, it wasn't something that couldn't be discussed. But the question was, was this really the right time?
Anyway, William White believed it wasn't suitable. The people had gotten wise enough -- sooner or later, they would witness what he wanted them to see. To put it bluntly, it had nothing to do with the Americans; they had no right to interfere.
For years now, the Americans had forced their way through, and it had almost entirely failed. To put it straight, friends in the desert region didn't seem to adopt the American way either. Since their relationship was so good, why not lend a hand?
...
"Old man, since he chose to withdraw, why provoke Gaddafi? I heard their intelligence agency is quite powerful."
"Powerful? Ha, the powerful one is William White. As for Gaddafi, that jerk is bound to meet misfortune eventually. If it weren't for the troubles coming from Saddam, we would already be dealing with him."
"Old man, are you saying the Lockerbie bombing was really their doing?"
"Does it matter?"
Bush Jr. was left momentarily speechless by his father's response. Alright, who was right and who was wrong didn't matter; knowing who the real culprit was wasn't important either. What truly mattered was who had to take the heat for it.
Without a doubt, Gaddafi was a perfect scapegoat. He chased away American oil companies while flirting with the British and the French. You really think you can sit on equal footing with me without seeing what I can do?
Oil, as a vital strategic resource, was better kept in one's own hands. Even when it came to allies, this fact wouldn't change.
Allies were generally overrated. After all, England was allied with Japan too. They were absolutely determined to do so to counter the Americans.
Haha, if the Americans didn't come to the rescue, they would have been out of luck. The CIA's current tactics were no different from what England played back then.
To William White, this approach seemed pointless and extremely dangerous. Looking at it from a future perspective, bringing down the Soviet Union appeared promising; at least it alleviated fears of a world war.
Turning around, though, this tactic was quite risky. With so many weapons of mass destruction, it was no laughing matter. If the successor was a softy, it'd be fine, but if he turned out to be hot-headed, who knew what could happen?
...
"Is everything settled?"
"Yes, sir. Jurassic Park was rather entertaining."
William White shook his head with a bitter smile. With such a large crew of killers, it certainly wouldn't do to take them back to America. Even Lanai Island wasn't suitable.
"Let's take a break for a while. I suspect it won't be long before Saddam acts up. I doubt he'll agree to retreat."
"Is this guy nuts? He can't sell a single drop of oil now; isn't that more troublesome?"
"Ha, that's just how smart people are sometimes. They can't get it. If this drags on, they won't even have barrels to store oil in."
"Yikes, that's really asking for trouble." Max chuckled, thinking of the trouble that was brewing.
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