32: An arms dealer, father

Baghdad, deep in the night.

The lights in the Presidential Palace were still blazing, like a beacon of power on this land that never extinguished.

A military jeep came to a screeching halt in front of the magnificent gate with a near-insane drift.

The car door flew open, and Uday Hussein jumped out, the ecstasy and excitement on his face yet to fade.

Two flames burned in the depths of his eyes.

He adjusted his expensive suit and strode inside.

"Stop! Young Master, Mr. President has already retired for the night!" The guards at the gate tried to block him, but their words were filled with awe.

Uday ignored them completely, shoved aside the attendant blocking his way, and stormed straight in.

"I have earth-shattering good news to report to Father! If national affairs are delayed, none of you can bear the responsibility!"

His roar echoed through the empty corridor.

The study door was rudely pushed open by him.

Saddam was sitting behind a huge desk, wearing reading glasses, reviewing a document.

Hearing this rude intrusion, he slowly looked up, a hint of annoyance at being disturbed between his brows.

But when he saw it was his eldest son, that annoyance was suppressed, replaced by a familiar sense of helplessness.

"Uday."

He just calmly called his son's name.

However, the scene that followed made even this President, who had seen all kinds of storms, feel a trace of surprise.

That Uday, who was always unruly and lawless.

At this moment, he was like a student who had done something wrong, walking quickly to the desk and bowing his head respectfully.

"Father."

His posture was extremely low, and his tone carried an unprecedented solemnity.

Saddam took off his glasses, leaned back slightly, rested against the back of the chair, and scrutinized his son with sharp eyes.

"What is it that makes you barge in so late like a headless fly?"

"Father, I've gotten something good for you! A... divine weapon that can change the course of the war!"

Uday looked up and said excitedly, his spit almost flying out.

There was no expression on Saddam's face.

"A divine weapon? Those rocket launchers we imported from China are piling up in several warehouses; isn't that enough for you to play with?"

In his view, this was just his son finding some new toy again and running over to show off to him.

"No! Father! It's completely different!" Uday waved his hands eagerly, leaned closer, lowered his voice, and said mysteriously.

"Those from China have a maximum range of forty kilometers, and the margin of error is so large they could hit our own people! What I'm talking about is the latest treasure from the Big Maos Family!"

He held up one finger, paused, and then stated that key number in an almost chanting tone.

"Its range... ninety kilometers!"

The study fell silent instantly.

The calm on Saddam's face finally cracked.

He sat up straight abruptly, his eyes fixed on Uday, every word seeming to be squeezed out from between his teeth.

"Say that again? How much?"

"Ninety kilometers!" Uday repeated decisively.

"The margin of error is extremely small! Tonight, we can use it to blow up a Lang Country ammunition depot thirty kilometers behind the Fao front line!"

"A precision strike from ninety kilometers away, it's like child's play!"

Saddam's breathing suddenly became heavy.

He stood up abruptly, his broad palm pressing onto the map. As a military man, he knew better than anyone what this number meant.

Ninety kilometers!

This meant that their artillery could hide in the absolute safety of the rear.

Pouring shells down like rain onto the enemy's command posts, logistics bases, and even their assembled troops!

This was no longer conventional artillery!

This, damn it, was a short-range ballistic missile that could be launched from a mobile vehicle!

"Are you sure... you didn't add an extra zero?" Saddam's voice was a bit hoarse.

"I'm sure!" Uday puffed out his chest, his face showing unconcealable pride.

"And that's not even the limit! The seller said that if we switch to special extended-range warheads, the range could soar to one hundred and twenty kilometers!"

One hundred and twenty kilometers!

Saddam gasped, pacing back and forth in the study, the excitement and fanaticism in his eyes almost bursting out.

A moment later, he forced himself to calm down and locked his gaze on Uday again.

"Who sold it to you? The Big Maos Family wouldn't sell weapons of this caliber!"

"An arms dealer, Father," Uday replied. "A guy named David. A... very amazing Chinese person."

In order to increase his own credit and to raise the stakes for David, Uday threw out another bombshell.

"And Father, he also said... he could get the f-15 "eagle" fighter jet."

"What?" Saddam's pupils contracted sharply. "The f-15? Does he think we are three-year-old children?"

"How could the Americans sell us their treasure!"

"I don't know if he's bragging or if he really has the ability." Uday shrugged.

"But he did produce this rocket launcher, and it was in stock. Father, he proved his ability with facts."

Saddam fell silent.

Joy and suspicion warred fiercely in his heart.

This arms dealer named David exuded an eerie vibe.

But that ninety-kilometer range made him unable to refuse such a temptation.

"Words are empty proof." Saddam finally made a decision, pointing his finger at Uday.

"Tomorrow morning, take me to see your 'divine weapon.' I want to verify it with my own eyes."

His tone became cold.

"If it is truly as you say, I will meet this David. If... you were deceived, or you are exaggerating..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but the chill in his eyes was enough to make anyone shudder.

"Understood, Father!" Uday answered excitedly; he knew he had bet correctly.

The next morning.

A desolate Gobi desert on the outskirts of Baghdad.

Three huge BBM-30 Tornado rocket launchers, like three steel beasts, sat quietly there, full of power.

Saddam, wearing a crisp military uniform, accompanied by Uday, circled the rocket launchers to inspect them carefully.

He used his white-gloved hands to stroke the cold vehicle body and the thick launch tubes.

From time to time, he asked various professional questions to the crew members standing by.

"How long does it take to prepare for launch?"

"What model is the fire control system?"

"What is the maximum ammunition capacity?"

The staff answered one by one, their professionalism and confidence making Saddam nod frequently.

"Very good." He finally patted the gun barrel, a look of satisfaction appearing on his face.

He turned to a staff officer and pointed to a spot on the map.

"Coordinates XXX, XXX, a patch of uninhabited desert eighty kilometers away from here. Order Vehicle One to conduct a three-round rapid fire."

"Yes!"

The order was quickly conveyed.

The crew of Vehicle One immediately began to get busy, the huge launch rack slowly raising and adjusting its angle.

The atmosphere became tense.

A few minutes later, accompanied by a deafening roar and violent tremors of the ground.

Three rockets dragging long tails of fire whistled through the sky and disappeared into the distance.

Everyone held their breath, waiting for the result.

Time passed second by second.

A hurried report from the forward observation post suddenly came through the communications soldier's headset.

He stood up straight abruptly and reported loudly to Saddam.

"Report, Mr. President! Impact point confirmed! All three shells hit the target area! The maximum deviation is no more than ten meters!"

Eighty kilometers away, a deviation of ten meters!

For a rocket launcher, this was simply a miracle!

"Good! Good! Good!"

Saddam said "good" three times in a row, the serious expression on his face finally melting away completely, replaced by unmasked ecstasy.

He turned around abruptly and patted Uday's shoulder hard, with enough force to make Uday stagger.

"My son! You did a fantastic job this time!"

This heartfelt praise made Uday feel sweeter than honey; all the hard work and risks were worth it at this moment!

Saddam's gaze turned again to the rocket launcher that had just finished spitting flames, his eyes burning.

"Go," he said to Uday. "Bring that Chinese person named David to the Presidential Palace."

"I want to meet him in person!"