[Chapter 602: A Bounty of Spoils]
The war was over, and now it was just a matter of haggling. Now Saddam was just a fish on the chopping board, had completely lost the ability to resist.
"Master, this is the revised plan. I've discussed it with Max, and he confirmed the route is feasible."
"Oh, has the location been determined?"
"It's been pinpointed, but we still don't know exactly what it is. There are about two platoons of soldiers guarding it."
"Strange, Tanner, why aren't they shipping it to Baghdad?"
"Ha! They say Saddam is quite stingy, and if it goes back, it'll likely be confiscated."
"Alright, notify Max and let them act accordingly."
"Understood, master."
Saddam's stinginess was well-known. When Bush struck, most of his generals defected -- purchased with U.S. dollars by the CIA.
Isn't it amusing? In the end, the Americans seized a massive amount of cash and gold in Baghdad. Even at death's door, this guy clung to his money. In the end, it all went to the Americans.
Clearly, his underlings were scheming. They wouldn't dare touch the treasury funds; they were probably keeping the rest for themselves.
In William White's eyes, these were all dead men. A little paper money to burn for them was enough, and the rest would be for his own enjoyment.
After all, these guys were just robbers and invaders. He felt no moral burden in robbing such bastards. It was practically his due right.
...
"Sir, are you sure this is the spot?"
"Max, this cunning rabbit has been caught. Just bring back its tail; I don't need anything else -- clean up the rest."
"Alright, sir. I'll bring back what you need."
"Tell the folks below -- they'll receive thirty percent of the profits."
"Got it, sir. I know they'll be thrilled."
Of course, they would be. Max knew his boss's worth; if it wasn't in the billions, he wouldn't even acknowledge them.
Well, even though the price of gold was falling, no matter how much it drops, gold is still gold -- not scrap metal.
What mercenaries excel in isn't really combat. Their specialty is killing and stealing. It's also what they love most. Though the risks are high, once successful, they can enjoy a few years of good living.
These guys have no concept of savings; they live for today. If all else fails, they rob. At most, they end up in jail -- or worse, shot by the police.
Now, the military contracting cake was attracting attention from various forces. Fortunately, William White wasn't greedy; he just needed to control the core team. The rest didn't matter to him.
The Blackwater of the future evolved into a grotesque monster. William White didn't want anything that big.
Money from security companies is hardly clean. He already had plenty; there was no need to chase after unclean cash. One wrong move, and his reputation could be in ruins.
William White knew all too well that mercenaries are just killing machines. They lack any sense of ethics or morals. To complete their assignments, they wouldn't hesitate to kill anyone.
What? You mentioned the Geneva Convention?
Sorry, soon someone will tell you -- our mercenaries can't read. They've never heard of such conventions. Is that food?
Why does Blackwater grow so large and so reckless in the future?
These folks are meant for dirty jobs; people can be overly sentimental, insisting on legal procedures. Sometimes it's an overcorrection, allowing many bastards to escape legal consequences.
Take the infamous Simpson case. Everyone in the world knew he killed his wife, yet he was acquitted.
The reason is simple: when the police entered his home, they didn't have a search warrant. All evidence was invalid, it couldn't be trusted.
How could a guy who needs to be executed dozens of times live so freely? You can imagine how ridiculous law can be.
I think that such a wife-killer should just be shot without wasting legal resources. They wasted a ton of legal resources and time, only to acquit him.
The CIA and military utilize Blackwater to carry out dirty deeds to sidestep legal and ethical risks.
If Blackwater causes a huge mess, they simply announce a contract termination. Blackwater can say that the individual was a temporary hire -- fired instantaneously. It's a personal action, with no ties to the company.
...
As night fell, over fifty military Hummers covered five trucks moving out of the camp.
In today's Kuwait, although the war was over, the burning flames hadn't extinguished. Now, even during the day, visibility was very limited.
"Tanner, make sure the satellite is on guard."
"Understood, master. There are no large-scale battles now. Those guys likely won't throw bombs carelessly."
"Still better be cautious; there's no telling with those guys."
William White was actually a bit overly cautious; while the war had ended, the soldiers weren't idle. They were either searching for fun or aiming to snag some souvenirs to take home.
People like him with clear goals were quite rare.
Logically, all these U.S. acquisitions should be returned to Kuwait. Aren't you supposed to be the so-called righteous army? In the blink of an eye, you've turned into robbers; the shift in narrative is quite jarring.
...
Things were progressing smoothly, with no resistance encountered. The guarding soldiers had fled, and nearby villagers had scarpered too.
"Chief, this wouldn't be some kind of trap, would it?"
"Shut up, move quickly, and set up security."
"Yes, sir."
Max had already received the news; two hours ago, those guys had fled. Villagers were scared the U.S. troops would come and were scattering.
"Chief, we found something. Tsk, tsk, we've hit the jackpot this time."
Looking at a mountain of Louis Vuitton travel bags, Max felt a bit of pain in his stomach. Wow, what a luxurious packaging. Did these bastards rob a luxury goods store?
"Chief, should we use our own bags or these?"
"Are you an idiot? David, have you seen those holes in these bags?"
"Those bastards. My wife wanted one but thought it was too expensive. Look at them now."
"Pick out two good ones to take back. Unless our bags aren't enough, don't bother with the rest. Move fast; make sure to grab all valuables."
"Chief, chief, there's more! There's another warehouse."
"David, this is your responsibility. The boss said we get thirty percent. It's U.S. dollars, so just don't let there be any unpleasantness."
"Don't worry, chief. Only the boss can cash in on this; taking it ourselves is useless."
Max quickly forgot about this warehouse; what his men found now was likely what the boss wanted.
"Chief, there's at least fifty tons here, right?"
"No, at most forty. Haha, we've struck gold! Keep the brothers alert; damn, my farm is counting on this bonus."
A group of soldiers went wild; even sending a single regiment wouldn't get them to retreat now.
Their boss was generous; they were sure of that. As for the profits from this security company, he outright didn't care. All he needed was a certain level of self-protection, and it'd be even better if the security company could sustain itself.
*****
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