Chapter 749: The Mainland and the Front Line
The airtight trunk suddenly cracked open, and immediately after, the lid was lifted high, allowing intense light to shine inside.
Some small insects hidden in the blanket, invisible to the naked eye, hurriedly retreated into the deepest part of the blanket.
Attorney General Terry looked at the briefcase lying quietly in the trunk, then straightened up and looked around.
There was no one else in the parking lot; Lanse and Chief Lukaer were walking behind and would not arrive for a while.
He bent down, placed both hands on the briefcase's latches, and opened it.
Accompanied by two "thud" sounds, he held the briefcase and opened it.
It was still gold—standard one-kilogram gold bars with the Baihui Bank stamp on them. He counted them; there were twenty in total.
This made him unable to help but whistle.
In fact, being a prosecutor is very lucrative, let alone being the Attorney General. When those enterprises and capitalists encounter trouble, they often try to find ways to work through the Prosecutor's Office.
Especially in some public prosecution cases, the attitude of the prosecutor and the Prosecutor's Office determines the final direction of these cases.
If one can persuade Attorney General Terry, then a case that might have resulted in a heavy sentence will end up being lightly dismissed.
However, he doesn't accept money from just anyone. Some people send a little money and mistakenly believe that the status of both parties has been reversed; he wouldn't even look at money from such people.
In front of them, Attorney General Terry is the rare good person and good official that people talk about.
He conducts investigations before accepting gifts—investigating the content of the case, the background of the defendant, and the specific social situation of these people.
Only when he deems it safe will he accept, trying his best not to let negative news appear about himself.
In fact, even if it did appear, with his current status, he could quickly suppress the matter, but it would affect his continued advancement later on.
However, he could accept Lanse's money, and he could do so confidently and boldly.
Smiling, he closed the briefcase, locked it, threw his golf bag into the trunk, and closed the trunk lid.
He was in a good mood because, due to the war, he had also been paying attention to gold.
With the changes in the global economic and financial system, gold had become the standard for purchasing power, and its price was constantly climbing.
From just over three hundred an ounce in the middle of last year, it had rapidly soared to break through four hundred dollars an ounce now.
Some experts claim that as long as the war does not stop, the price of gold will continue to grow!
It is firmer than currency!
Even at four hundred an ounce, one kilogram of gold bars is fourteen thousand dollars; twenty bars make two hundred and eighty thousand.
Perhaps before long, this will be three hundred thousand, three hundred and fifty thousand, or even higher!
Attorney General Terry's face was full of smiles. He hummed a tune while driving. Knowing Lanse and becoming friends with him was one of the most correct things he felt he had done since reaching middle age.
Knowing Lanse, Lanse would solve his economic worries. He believed that as long as he opened his mouth, Lanse would continue to give him money.
He knew some people like Lanse; they have grand goals and huge ambitions, just like those super capitalist consortiums and financial groups surrounding the Congress.
As long as the senators dare to ask, they dare to give—no matter how much!
What they fear most is that you are unwilling to accept money, or unwilling to accept their money.
Lanse is like that kind of person; he is very generous and not stingy at all.
Besides being able to obtain extra economic income from Lanse, he could also help himself connect with big figures in Congress, which is what he values even more.
If he could one day become the Lieutenant Governor, or even the Governor, there would be more people sending him money, and it would be safer too.
He was now a bit curious about how much Chief Lukaer could get this time, but he wouldn't take the initiative to ask; this was not something that could be asked.
In the parking lot, Chief Lukaer had already sat in the car, but Lanse asked him to wait a while.
After about four or five minutes, Lanse walked over carrying a briefcase and placed it on the passenger seat next to him.
"Thanks to your help this time, I won't repeat the words of thanks I've already said. A small local specialty, I hope you like it."
Chief Lukaer smiled and said a few pleasantries, but he didn't decline and gladly accepted Lanse's gift.
Even if this briefcase were full of money, it couldn't hold much.
This briefcase was not the thick kind. Based on Chief Lukaer's knowledge of its dimensions, it could probably hold thirty thousand to forty thousand dollars.
The Federation issues fifty-dollar bills, but they are not widely circulated because the denomination is too large.
Currently, the mainstream circulating denominations are five-dollar and ten-dollar bills; twenty-dollar bills are not considered small, and very few people can produce them.
After all, one bill is equivalent to half a month's income for a worker; the ordinary working class basically has no use for such large-denomination bills.
Even when receiving wages, they would take the initiative to request payment in two-dollar and five-dollar bills, rather than ten-dollar or twenty-dollar ones.
Sometimes when buying something for a few cents, if you pull out a twenty-dollar bill, the shopkeeper will refuse to sell to you and think you are there to cause trouble.
However, for bribery, twenty dollars is already the highest denomination bill.
One hundred bills, which is two thousand dollars—this small briefcase can hold about fifteen to twenty stacks, thirty to forty thousand dollars.
If filled to the brim, it might hold fifty thousand; sixty thousand is unlikely.
This sum of money is not small for him. The State Police Chief is actually not a particularly good position for making money.
Although there are many departments here that possess great power, much of this power often proves useless.
State police, city police, and town police are completely separate. Although state police can intervene in city cases, they will not do so unless necessary, as it is easy to offend people.
As for the rest, it is mostly the same. They have no superior-subordinate relationship with local police, it is inconvenient to intervene in local affairs, and local areas do not necessarily let them intervene.
Their real business is still the interstate highway police and the mounted police.
Wandering on the interstate highway, checking passing vehicles—do you expect to get benefits from this?
Those car owners whose vehicles are seized would rather pay a ten or twenty-dollar fine than think about sending him gifts.
So if he wants to make money, it's not that easy, and sometimes he has to face risks.
Lanse's at least thirty, forty, or fifty thousand—possibly forty or fifty thousand—in benefits made his life suddenly become comfortable. He looked at Lanse and said sincerely, "Thank you for the gift, I like it very much."
Thinking of his young son who is in college, the loans and various expenses on him, and some of the difficulties his eldest son encountered in finding a job, this money could indeed bring him great help.
As the State Police Chief, he doesn't even want his son to join the State Police!
It shows how terrible this job is!
Lanse smiled and patted the roof of the car, "The longer we spend together, the more you will know that I am a generous person who loves making friends."
"If you encounter any trouble that you can't solve yourself, give me a call."
"In a few days, when I have time, I will introduce you to some friends—friends from the State Prohibition Committee. You will have some cooperation in your work later on."
Chief Lukaer did not refuse and agreed.
Afterward, he drove away. Today he drove the car very fast. On the road, he encountered state police on duty who stopped his car.
He was driving a private car today, so he wasn't recognized, and then he was asked to pull over.
When a highway patrol officer walked over with his duty belt hanging loosely, leaned his arm on the car window, bent down, and knocked on the glass, seeing the Chief's face appear behind the glass, he wished he could slap himself.
"So, was I speeding?", Chief Lukaer asked.
The patrol officer squeezed out some smiles, "No, I just wanted to say... good afternoon, sir."
Chief Lukaer looked at the officer's somewhat fearful appearance. After a while, he couldn't help but laugh, "Alright, you were just performing your duties. I am not the Chief right now, just a driver."
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"Do you want to check my documents?"
The officer breathed a sigh of relief, "No, no need... sir!", he originally wanted to say "Chief," but quickly thought of what the Chief had just said, so he used "sir" instead.
"I noticed your front headlight was a bit dirty...", he said, walking to the left front headlight, wiping the headlight with his sleeve, then stepped back a few steps to take a look, nodded with satisfaction, and then walked back to continue, "That's why I stopped you. It's much better now, you can leave."
Chief Lukaer nodded slightly, "Well done, keep it up!"
He rolled up the window again and started the car to leave.
The officer's partner was eating snacks with a puzzled look, looking at him, "Did you run into your dad?"
The officer exhaled a breath of turbid air, "You definitely won't believe it, I ran into the Chief!"
His partner curled his lips, "I thought you ran into God!"
Seeing that his partner didn't believe him, he didn't continue to say anything, but he was very curious why the Chief would take this highway out of the city.
Could it be that he went to play golf?
Chief Lukaer returned home without any surprises or dangers, but later his speed slowed down.
When he returned home, parked the car, and prepared to lift the box to leave from the driver's seat, he realized that lifting the box with one hand was a bit strenuous!
What was inside?
Not money?
He was a bit stunned, turned around, and opened the briefcase directly, immediately seeing six gold bars neatly arranged inside.
Lanse had even specially made a bottom cushioning bracket for them to ensure they wouldn't run around in the box, wouldn't collide with each other, and wouldn't make a sound.
Seeing those stamps and serial numbers that were far from exquisite, he picked one up, and his heart sank into it.
This damn... is too great!
Over the next few days, Lanse kept "thanking" those who had helped him and prepared for his next step of controlling the entire state's liquor market.
He wandered among the upper-class society of Laizhou, and more people knew there was such a person, met him, and became friends with him.
Just as Lanse was looking for new friends, on the front line of the battlefield, Corporal Bo'er was receiving a lecture.
Becoming a corporal from an ordinary bottom-level soldier was a huge improvement for Bo'er's military life.
He was able to become a corporal because he was lucky. He had already changed four partners and comrades-in-arms; on average, his partner would fall by his side in every battle.
Because he could persist through four battles without dying or getting injured, and had summarized some experience, he was promoted.
The army hoped he could pass on more experience to the new soldiers. This time, the front-line army had supplemented a large number of soldiers from the rear, and he noticed one thing.
More immigrant or refugee soldiers—they were like consumables sent to the battlefield.
But before he could have any opinions or reactions to this, the company called him over.
Entering the company's tent, he found that the cadre officers in the company had all come. They were all full of confusion and didn't know what had happened.
For a time, everyone had various guesses, and some even said whether they were going to change defense and let them retreat to the rear to rest.
This guess was the most popular. Although front-line supplies were not lacking and liquor was enough, after all, it had lasted for such a long time, from the horror of life and death to numbness, they also needed to relax.
Several people gathered together to smoke, fantasizing about what they would do if they could return to the rear.
They had already heard that the federal military had requested Slader to provide a military brothel camp, and it had already been established. Some of them wanted to try it.
While they were chatting about this and that, several officers lifted the tent curtain and walked in with big strides. Bo'er and the others hurriedly threw away their cigarettes and stood straight on the spot.
"Sit down.", an officer he hadn't seen before stood in the leading position. His face was very serious, and from his rank, one could tell this was a captain.
Several officers whispered for a while. Their company commander, a lieutenant, introduced the captain's name, and then let them listen quietly.
"According to the latest requirements from the command, your company has been selected for the next stage of the plan."
"We will rush out of the trenches, bypass the enemy's flank from a position further north, launch an attack, attack from both sides, and strive to break through the enemy's defense line."
"Because the plan is urgent, you only have...", the captain glanced at his watch, "thirty-five minutes to prepare."
"After thirty-five minutes, we will set off. Let your soldiers pack their personal belongings and gather at the assembly point."
After the captain finished these words, he turned his head and whispered a few words to the company commander, then quickly left. He still had to go to other companies to pass on this news.
Once the captain left, the bottom-level officers in the tent couldn't help but stand up, talking all at once, unable to make themselves clear.
Bo'er also followed them and gathered around the company commander. Looking at these young faces full of dirt, the company commander could only sigh silently.
"I don't know much, just that the higher-ups don't want to continue being so passive and want to fight more actively and proactively, so we are required to take the initiative to attack."
Everyone in the tent fell into silence, and Bo'er was no exception.
Another corporal couldn't help but ask, "Don't they know... that there is not much difference between us going out like this and sending ourselves to death?"
His tone was full of disbelief and sadness. There were fortifications and they occupied the terrain advantage; every time they exchanged fire, their casualties were higher than the other side's.
Although the death toll had dropped significantly now, they were still at a disadvantage in terms of the number of deaths on both sides.
They had indeed made progress, but every progress represented casualties.
Now they hadn't even learned how to defend, and they were going to attack?
What is the difference between this and running when you can't even walk?
Looking at the depressed appearance of these subordinates, the company commander could only comfort them, "Maybe the situation is not that bad, they might not necessarily discover us."
This sentence was just something he said himself; no one believed it at all.
In terms of war, they were really not very good.
Although Slader was beaten back steadily by the Dantela Allied Forces in the eyes of the federal people, even so, they were stronger than the federal people in terms of military literacy and combat ability.
They had been in a state of high friction and conflict, ready to fight at any time, and both sides maintained vigorous combat effectiveness.
They couldn't be compared to the federal people who had been at peace for decades. This generation knew nothing about war!
Seeing these people not speaking, the company commander stomped his feet, "In short, go tell the soldiers that the country needs them!"
"And I will go with you."
Perhaps this sentence made Bo'er and the others realize that even if they were abandoned, the company commander was also one of those being abandoned, which made them feel a little better emotionally.
Bo'er brought this terrible order back to the trench he was guarding and said these things.
Except for the two new recruits who had just been supplemented, everyone else's face was extremely ugly.
"Is there really no way?", someone asked, "Do we really have to go?"
Those who asked these questions were veterans; they had deeply understood the cruelty on the battlefield.
This time as the attacking side, they could already imagine that given the certain gap in military literacy between the two sides, they could only tear through the enemy's defense line by filling it with lives.
They didn't know how many people here would die on the battlefield, and it might even be themselves.
Bo'er shook his head, "The company commander will also go with us."
Even the officers were required to go to the front line, which meant they were not allowed to raise any opinions.
After a brief silence, the two new recruits began to blankly pack their personal luggage with the veterans. Ten minutes later, they arrived at the assembly point.
Troop carriers and supply trucks were all ready, and company commanders were constantly shouting for their soldiers to gather and get on the trucks.
Bo'er also found their company and, amidst the company commander's shouting, led the soldiers to climb onto the troop carrier.
Once they left, life and death were truly uncertain.
Bo'er counted the people; no one was a deserter. While he breathed a sigh of relief, he also felt a bit stifled.
He didn't know whether he hoped his subordinates would run away or not.
As the troop carrier filled with people, it started up and began to move shakily on the road.
Coming out of the huge defense area, he also saw some tanks and infantry fighting vehicles on the road.
The new recruits wanted to speak but didn't know what to say, while the veterans looked lifeless.
"We will win!", Bo'er looked at the others and said seriously, "We will definitely win!" ===== CHAPTER 750 =====
End of Chapter
