28: Okay! I'll trust you this once!

These words were like a magic spell, instantly seizing Uday's entire mind.

One second he was furious from the car crash and the blood streaming down his forehead, the next second his rage was abruptly cut short.

His bloodshot eyes, fueled by anger, stared intently at the local man who had pushed his way out of the crowd.

His gaze was filled with suspicion, greed, and a hint of longing that he himself hadn't even noticed.

Forget Iraq, in the entire Middle East, besides a few staunch allies of America, who could possess such a thing?

His father, Saddam, had gone to great lengths just to acquire a few Mirage 2000s, and now someone was telling him they could get him an f-15?

That was Uday's first thought.

What if... it was real?

Once this thought emerged, it grew wildly like weeds, unstoppable.

"Don't shoot!" Uday roared at his Personal Guards who had already raised their guns.

He shoved away the guard who tried to help him, clutched his still-bleeding forehead, and strode towards the local man who had shouted.

The surrounding Personal Guards immediately formed a human wall, roughly pushing away the onlookers and clearing an open space.

"You, come here!" Uday pointed his gun barrel at the man, his tone unfriendly.

The local man's legs trembled with fear, but he still bit the bullet and, pushed by the Personal Guards, walked in front of Uday.

"Who sent you? Speak!" Uday's voice was full of brutality.

"A very important person, Your Excellency," the local man stammered in reply.

"Where is he?"

The local man's trembling finger pointed to a man not far away, who was leaning calmly against a street wall, completely ignoring the chaos at the scene.

Alberto.

Uday's gaze instantly shifted to Alberto.

This was a typical Latino, lean and formidable, with terrifyingly calm eyes.

Even with a dozen AK-47s pointed at him, his expression didn't change in the slightest.

A tough nut to crack.

Uday immediately made his judgment.

"Bring him to me!"

Several Personal Guards pounced like wolves, roughly restraining Alberto and searching him from head to toe.

"Reporting, Your Excellency, he has no weapons!"

Uday waved his hand, and the Personal Guards brought Alberto over.

He scrutinized Alberto from head to toe and asked in fluent English, "f-15? Did you say that?"

Next to Alberto, a translator who had also been brought along immediately translated Uday's words. This was something he had arranged in advance, just in case.

Alberto, through the translator, replied neither subserviently nor arrogantly, "Not me, my boss said it."

"Who is your boss?" Uday's brows furrowed.

"My boss wishes to speak with you personally," Alberto continued.

"He says that besides f-15s, he can provide you with any advanced weapon you can imagine in this world."

Quite a boast!

Uday snorted coldly, his suspicion deepening.

But the interest piqued in him today was simply too great.

The allure of the f-15 was enough to make him willing to take a risk.

He glanced at the choked street and his damaged mercedes-benz.

The anger in his heart flared up again. But he didn't have time to deal with these trifles now.

He pulled out his brick phone and dialed a number.

"This is Uday! Send people immediately to surround the Baghdad Hotel! Not even a fly is allowed to escape!"

On the other end of the phone, the Iraq Police Chief flinched in terror and agreed repeatedly.

Hanging up the phone, Uday tapped Alberto's chest with the gun barrel.

He sneered, "Take me to your boss. If I find out you're playing games with me..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but his cruel expression said it all.

Ten minutes later, several military vehicles screeched to a halt in front of the Baghdad Hotel.

The hotel was now surrounded by three layers of police and security forces, completely sealed off.

All guests were forbidden from entering or leaving, and the lobby was filled with armed soldiers.

Uday, clutching his now simply bandaged forehead, entered the hotel with a retinue of Personal Guards, escorting Alberto.

The hotel manager was already pale with fright and stammered as he came forward.

"Get lost!"

Uday kicked him aside and walked directly to the elevator.

Top floor, presidential suite.

Juan and several bodyguards stood grim-faced at the door, while at both ends of the corridor, Uday's Personal Guards had their guns aimed.

The atmosphere was tense.

Uday didn't even look at them, kicking open the suite door directly.

"Bang!"

The heavy door panel slammed against the wall, making a dull sound.

Uday rushed in with his men and immediately saw David sitting casually on the living room sofa, leisurely sipping red wine.

The moment he saw David, Uday froze.

Too young.

This was no arms magnate; he was clearly a college student fresh out of school!

He had originally thought that anyone who could boast about providing f-15s would at least be a cunning, portly middle-aged man.

"You're the boss?" Uday's brows were tightly furrowed, his disdain unconcealed.

David put down his wine glass, didn't answer his question, but glanced at Alberto, who had two soldiers with guns pressed against his lower back.

He raised his eyelids and looked at Uday calmly.

"Let him come over."

His tone was light, yet carried an undeniable authority.

Uday immediately bristled with anger; he felt his authority had been challenged.

"Kid, do you understand the situation? Who are you talking to?"

"You're on my turf, your man is in my hands, what makes you think you can order me around?"

David smiled.

He slowly stood up and walked towards Uday, completely ignoring the dark muzzles aimed at him.

"Because I can give you f-15s."

"Because I can give your father, you, and Iraq a brand new future."

His words echoed clearly in the room, making Uday's pupils contract sharply.

Their eyes met, and the air seemed to solidify.

Uday's Personal Guards nervously gripped their weapons, fingers on the triggers.

With just one look from Uday, they would turn this presumptuous young man into a sieve.

In the end, it was Uday who backed down first.

The temptation of the f-15 was simply too great.

He gritted his teeth and squeezed out two words: "Release him!"

The soldiers holding Alberto let go.

Alberto flexed his wrists, walked behind David, and whispered, "Boss."

"Very good." David looked back at Uday, a satisfied smile on his face. "Now, we can have a proper talk."

He pointed to the opposite sofa: "Your Excellency Hussein, please sit."

Uday suppressed his anger, plopped down on the sofa, spreading his arms along the backrest, adopting an scrutinizing posture.

"Kid, I'm giving you one last chance."

"If you dare to utter a single lie, I guarantee, your fate will be worse than a wild dog in the desert!"

David was unfazed, he instructed Alberto and Juan, "You all go out and wait for me at the door."

He then glanced at Uday's Personal Guards and the translator behind him.

"Please also have your subordinates and translator wait outside the door. I think it's enough for only the two of us to know the following content."

Uday hesitated but then waved his hand.

Soon, only David and Uday remained in the room.

This courage to be alone with a dangerous person slightly changed Uday's perception of David.

"Speak. I'd like to hear how you'll get me an f-15," Uday crossed his legs, looking as if he was watching a performance.

"f-15s are just the beginning." David sat back on the sofa, poured himself another half-glass of red wine, and gently swirled it.

"Long-range rocket artillery, the latest model of main battle tanks, anti-ship missiles, and even... ballistic missile technology."

Uday's eyelids twitched with every word David spoke.

When he heard "ballistic missile technology," he could no longer remain calm and abruptly sat upright.

"You're bragging!" he blurted out.

This wasn't just an exaggeration; it was utterly fantastical!

Which of these wasn't a top-tier technology fiercely guarded by major powers? How could this young man possibly acquire them?

"I know you don't believe me." David took a sip of red wine, looking composed.

"Talking more is useless; let's get down to business."

He put down his wine glass, looked into Uday's eyes, and said word by word.

"Tomorrow morning at ten o'clock, a cargo ship named 'oriental pearl' will arrive at your southern Fao Port."

"On board, there's a welcome gift from me to you."

"A set of A-100 Long-Range Rocket Artillery, 300mm caliber, with a maximum range of over one hundred kilometers."

"Its performance far surpasses any Soviet or American rocket artillery you currently have."

Uday was completely stunned.

He was too specific!

The ship's name, arrival time, port, and even the weapon's model and parameters!

This couldn't be a hastily concocted lie!

"Really... there's a ship?" Uday's voice was a bit dry.

"Of course." David's lips curved into a confident smile. "You can call the port authority now to verify the shipping schedule."

Uday stared intently at David, his brain working furiously.

If this was true, then this young man's background and influence would far exceed his imagination!

A person who could casually deploy weapons of this caliber was definitely not someone he could easily manipulate.

After a long pause, Uday slowly stood up.

He decided to gamble one more time!

"Good! I'll trust you this once!"

"Tomorrow morning, I will personally go to Fao Port! If I don't see the ship you mentioned, or if the ship doesn't have what you said..."

He walked in front of David, leaned down, and whispered into David's ear, in a volume only the two of them could hear.

"I will hang you in Baghdad's Liberation Square, and let everyone see the fate of those who deceive me!"

With that, he straightened up, no longer looking at David, and turned to stride towards the door.

Just as his hand was about to touch the doorknob, David's leisurely voice came from behind him.

"Oh, by the way, Your Excellency Hussein."

"Remember to say hello to the customs officials, don't let my gift be delayed from docking due to some tedious inspection procedures."

Uday's body stiffened.

He didn't look back, pulled open the door, and walked out without a backward glance.

Inside the room, silence returned.

The smile on David's face slowly widened; he picked up his wine glass and drained the remaining red wine.

The plan, perfect.