33: A single unit, $80 million

The Baghdad Presidential Palace.

This magnificent building, blending tradition and modernity, exuded an inviolable majesty under the scorching desert sun.

David followed behind Uday, passing through heavily guarded checkpoints and stepping onto the polished, mirror-like marble floor.

"Wait for me here for a moment." Uday stopped and pointed to a row of sofas in the reception area nearby.

"I'll go in first and report to my father."

There was a hint of imperceptible nervousness in his tone.

"No problem." David nodded, appearing very relaxed.

Uday took a deep breath and quickly walked toward the massive wooden door carved with intricate patterns.

David, meanwhile, found a spot and sat down, crossing one leg over the other.

He didn't look around, but his peripheral vision took in everything in the vicinity.

Luxurious Persian carpets, and oil paintings depicting ancient battle scenes hanging on the walls.

As well as a purely gold-crafted falcon sculpture in the corner.

Everything showcased the owner's power and wealth.

But none of this made him feel intimidated.

To be honest, he was a little excited.

This was Saddam!

The tyrant who, in later generations, would be hanged on the gallows.

Just seeing him alive gave him bragging rights when he went back home.

A few minutes later, the heavy wooden door was pushed open, and Uday poked his head out and waved to him.

"Come in, my father wants to see you."

David stood up, straightened the hem of his suit jacket, and walked over with unhurried steps.

As he entered the room, a strong smell of cigars wafted toward him.

The room was large, more like an office.

Behind the massive desk, a man with a signature thick beard was reviewing documents with his head lowered.

Although he didn't look up, the atmosphere in the entire room felt extraordinarily oppressive.

David knew this was Saddam.

"Father, Mr. David is here," Uday said cautiously, standing to one side of the desk.

Only then did Saddam slowly raise his head.

His gaze was terrifyingly sharp, sweeping over David's face with scrutiny and inquiry.

David's heart tightened, but he maintained a calm smile on his face, meeting the gaze frankly.

Seriously, if his psychological fortitude wasn't strong enough, why would he be in the arms business?

"Are you the Huaguo person who sold the 'Tornado' to my son?" Saddam spoke, his voice deep and powerful.

He was asking Uday, but his eyes remained fixed on David.

"Yes, Father," Uday quickly replied.

"He is also Mr. David, the one I mentioned to you who has the channels to obtain the f-15 'eagle' fighter jet."

Saddam leaned slightly forward, interlaced his fingers on the desk, and his gaze became more aggressive.

"Who is behind you?"

The question was direct and deadly.

Uday's heart instantly leaped into his throat; he nervously watched David, his palms slick with sweat.

He was terrified David would say the wrong word.

But David smiled.

"Mr. President, is who is behind me really that important?"

He took a step forward, closing the distance to the desk.

"What's important is that I can bring you, bring Iraq, what you need most. Isn't that right?"

The moment those words left his mouth, the temperature in the room plummeted.

Uday was so frightened his legs nearly gave out.

This guy must be crazy!

How dare he speak to his father in that tone!

Saddam's eyes narrowed, and the chill in his gaze was enough to make any normal person break down.

"Young man, you are arrogant."

He said coldly.

"Do you know? Based on that single sentence you just spoke, I could have the guards drag you out right now and make you disappear forever."

A naked threat.

Without any disguise.

The smile on David's face didn't fade in the slightest.

"Of course, you are the President of Iraq, and you have that authority."

He spread his hands, looking indifferent.

"However, killing me brings you no benefit. On the contrary, it would be a huge loss for Iraq."

He looked directly into Saddam's eyes and spoke word by word.

"Because only I can help you win this damned war!"

"Only I can allow your Air Force to truly become the mighty eagle of the Middle East!"

The entire room fell into absolute silence.

Uday didn't dare to breathe; he felt like his heart was about to leap out of his throat.

He stared at David in shock; this Huaguo person's guts were bigger than the sky!

Saddam did not immediately get angry.

He just looked at David quietly, his eyes complex.

He had met countless people—those who groveled, those who flattered, and those who feigned composure.

But this young man, who could remain so calm and composed in the face of a death threat from him, even turning the tables, was the first.

This guy was either a complete lunatic, or... he truly had something to rely on.

After a long time, the corner of Saddam's mouth actually twitched upward.

"Interesting."

He leaned back against the chair, and the oppressive feeling emanating from him subsided significantly.

"You have successfully piqued my interest."

He pointed to the chair opposite him.

"Sit."

"Alright." David didn't stand on ceremony, sitting down boldly.

Only then did Uday let out a long sigh, feeling that his back was soaked with cold sweat.

"You said you could get the f-15 'eagle'?" Saddam lit another cigar and asked.

"Yes, Mr. President." David crossed his legs.

"As long as the money is right, forget the F-15; even if you wanted a satellite from the sky, I could pluck it down for you."

The words were arrogant, yet they revealed a powerful self-confidence.

"What about the price?" Saddam exhaled a smoke ring.

"Eighty million USD per unit." David held up eight fingers.

"That's the price for the bare airframe, not including any accompanying missiles or avionics upgrade services."

"That's too expensive!" Saddam frowned.

"As far as I know, the price US sells to its allies isn't that high. Are you treating me like a fool?"

"Mr. President, you shouldn't put it that way." David shook his head, leaned forward, and lowered his voice.

"The channels are different, so the costs are naturally different."

"If you buy directly from US, that's the official price, the ally price. But they are currently blockading you; can you buy it?"

"Buying from me involves special channels and tremendous risk. This price is the 'Blockade-Breaking Price,' the 'Exclusive Channel Price'!",

He looked into Saddam's eyes and upped the ante.

"Think about it: once your air force is equipped with the F-15, old aircraft like the Su-15 will be sitting ducks in front of it!"

"At that time, who will rule the skies over the entire Middle East?"

"Will the Iranians' F-14 'tomcat' still dare to be arrogant in front of you?"

"This deal isn't about buying a few planes; it's about buying air superiority for Iraq, and absolute dominance for you in the Middle East!"

"When you look at it that way, is eighty million expensive?"

Every word David spoke struck precisely at Saddam's heart.

Air superiority! Dominance!

This was exactly what he had dreamed of!

The Iran-Iraq War had dragged on for so long, and the air force disadvantage had caused him immense suffering.

If he could possess the F-15... Saddam's breathing became somewhat labored, and his eyes grew fervent.

He was tempted.

But he was, after all, a generation's tyrant, and his emotions were not easily displayed on his face.

He was silent for a moment, then extinguished his cigar in the ashtray.

"Sixty million USD."

He held up six fingers, speaking decisively.

"Per unit. That is my bottom line."

An expression of difficulty immediately appeared on David's face; he frowned, seemingly engaged in an intense internal struggle.

"Mr. President, you've cut the price too drastically... At sixty million, I won't even cover my costs..."

He began to complain.

Saddam simply watched him coldly, unmoved.

Uday watched from the side, frantic inside, genuinely afraid the deal would fall through.

After a long while, David finally let out a sigh, wearing a pained expression.

"Fine!"

He slapped his thigh.

"Seeing how straightforward you are, and for the sake of our future long-term cooperation! I accept this price!"

"However, Mr. President, I have one condition."

"Speak."

"The payment must be in cash. For the first batch, I require an order of at least four units." David's gaze became serious.