Chapter 57 Rules of the Game

Everyone's gaze instantly focused on Angie.

After a brief silence, the old face of the Cook immediately relaxed into a wide smile that bloomed like a flower.

"Oh! Miss Angie!"

The Cook exaggeratedly smacked his own forehead with his palm.

"Damn it, how could I have forgotten about you!"

Indeed, damn it.

That was entirely true.

Who was Angie?

She was the descendant of a prominent American political dynasty and a graduate of a prestigious university.

Her father was a well-known businessman, her mother served on the board of a charitable organization, and her aunt was a party whip for the Donkey Party. In her extended family, business and politics each accounted for a third, while the remaining third consisted of social activists—she belonged to an authentic establishment elite.

Not seeking help from such a powerful backing—wasn't that simply damned foolish?

Angie said, "Judging by the current situation in Baghdad, it is truly impossible for someone with zero background to operate a PMC business here. At best, you would just be a small group of independent mercenaries, and getting hired by an employer like me is already a miracle. If I didn't have special circumstances, I probably wouldn't have hired you..."

Her words sounded harsh and grating.

That inherent sense of superiority possessed by those born into elite families leaked out once more inadvertently.

However, these were all facts.

"I am extremely satisfied with your services this time, so I am willing to give you a hand."

The Cook immediately seized the opening: "I wonder how Miss Angie plans to help us?"

"A week from now, my Aunt Nancy is arriving in Baghdad for a three-day visit. By then, I can arrange a brief meeting for you," Angie said. "If you can seize the opportunity, I believe you can gain a foothold in Baghdad and establish your own PMC company."

Gray Wolf couldn't help chiming in: "We are mercenaries, and your aunt is a politician. What on earth do we have to talk to her about..."

The Cook shot Gray Wolf a glare, signaling him to shut up immediately.

Then, turning back to Angie, he said, "Then I thank you very much in advance. Be sure to arrange a meeting for us then. I am confident that I can persuade your Aunt Nancy, especially since, after this mission, our 'Musician' mercenary squad has gained a bit of fame."

The Cook was right.

The major media outlets plastered the news of the successful capture of Saif across the front pages of their newspapers and websites the very next day.

The photographs of Song Heping and the others were also posted in prominent positions.

The news spread rapidly, and within just a few days, the small team known as the "Musicians" became a hot-ticket star in the Baghdad mercenary circle.

Angie had been staying inside the Green Zone these past few days. Her interview assignment was already completed, and the reason she hadn't left yet was because she intended to wait for her Aunt Nancy to arrive for the visit and return with her on the same plane.

The advantage of doing this was that she could conduct an exclusive interview during the flight and secure first-hand material.

This was precisely the resource commanded by an elite family.

What was most bizarre was that upon returning to the Green Zone, Angie did not immediately terminate her security contract with the "Musician" mercenary squad.

Coupled with the one hundred thousand dollars in additional service fees agreed upon with Angie at the oil refinery, along with two hundred thousand dollars for the repairs of the B7 bulletproof vehicles, a total of three hundred thousand dollars was already in the bag after just these few days.

Song Heping could finally see it clearly.

When it came to doing business, the Cook was an absolute master.

For instance, the Cook had demanded that hundred thousand dollars from Angie under the pretext of purchasing intelligence from Blackwater and drone reconnaissance services.

In reality, the support from the RC-12 reconnaissance aircraft and the MQ-1 Predator drone had been provided by Thomas and Colonel Brown of the ISA, given as part of their cooperation with the "Musician" team—completely free of charge.

As for the repair costs of the two B7-level Lincoln bulletproof vehicles, that was entirely nonexistent.

When the Cook went to exchange the vehicles, he didn't mention it at all, and Thomas didn't demand any compensation.

Everyone understood the underlying game and knew exactly what was going on.

As long as Saif was captured, none of these details mattered; they were all treated as normal wear and tear.

In Baghdad, countless vehicles were destroyed every day both inside and outside the city by IED attacks. Although B7 bulletproof vehicles were expensive, to Langley and the military, they were entirely acceptable losses. In fact, they rather preferred such equipment to be damaged.

Coming out of Thomas's office, Song Heping, who had originally worried about losing his shirt, breathed a sigh of relief and asked the Cook why Thomas didn't seem to care at all.

Logically speaking, didn't Thomas loathe him and the Cook? Why wouldn't he seize this opportunity to bleed them dry?

The Cook chuckled and said, "Sang, your combat skills are top-notch, and you're very smart, but your understanding of the current situation in Iraq is definitely not as deep as mine. Let me tell you, those two Lincolns got shot to pieces, but Thomas isn't going to be angry at all. On the contrary, he'll be thrilled."

"Thrilled?"

Song Heping was somewhat baffled.

Who would ever be happy about losing expensive equipment?

The Cook explained, "Damage leads to procurement, and procurement leads to fat profits. Let me ask you, is Iraq short on money right now?"

Song Heping said, "With the war fought to this state, everything is smashed to pieces. Of course it's short."

"Wrong," the Cook said. "It's true that ordinary people in Iraq are short on money, but that doesn't mean the people on the Governing Council and the Project Management Committee are short on cash, nor does it mean the military and intelligence departments are short. Do you know what else is packed inside the transport planes landing every day at the 82nd Airborne Division's airfield outside the city, besides weapons, equipment, and logistical supplies? Money! Cash! Colorful greenbacks! I've seen it—shipped in entire containers!"

As he spoke, the greed in his eyes overflowed like a breached dam.

"I've seen it! Let me tell you, today's Iraq is an adventurer's paradise. It's not money that's lacking here; it's capability. How much you can rake in depends entirely on how far your reach is and how much cash you can scoop into your own hands! Those two B7 bulletproof cars could actually be repaired, but Thomas won't bother fixing them at all. Instead, he'll immediately write a report requesting the procurement of two new ones. The Ford business representative stationed here will quickly step in to complete the transaction, and Thomas or his superiors will profit from it, while Ford makes money too."

The more the Cook talked, the more excited he became.

"Sang."

He pointed toward the distant Republican Palace and various military tents, speaking with a slightly sarcastic tone: "Do you know how many multinational corporation representatives have been dispatched to this tiny Green Zone? Arms dealers, oil merchants, service providers, supply vendors, car dealers, and even satellite phone sellers—they've all come here to develop business. Do you think they came because of love? It's because of money! Iraq is a fat sheep right now, and everyone wants to take a bite out of its flesh. That is the rules of the game!"

Song Heping was left dumbfounded by his words.

However, his shock was not yet over.

A sly grin suddenly appeared on the Cook's face.

"There's something else I'm going to do in a couple of days."

"What is it?" Song Heping asked.

The Cook turned back, pointing at the two bullet-riddled Lincoln sedans in the parking lot and said, "Those two cars—I'm going to buy them in a few days!"

"Buy them?"

"Of course. Once our PMC company opens, we'll desperately need vehicles like those. These cars will be our storefront. PSD missions to receive VIPs require them. We can't just use Nissan off-roaders, right?"

"Would Thomas be willing to sell the cars to you?"

"Why wouldn't he? He'll get brand-new Lincolns, and we'll get two repaired bulletproof Lincolns. They eat the meat, and we pick up the leftover scraps and drink the broth."

In the end,

the Cook once again flashed the smile of a cunning merchant.

"Sang, remember this: this is also one of the rules of the game!"