Chapter 758 - 730: Aurora II_2

"In fact, this is the bill that the president is preparing."

Omar, who was half lying down, sat up instantly, asking incredulously:

"That ’Industrial Catfish,’ the talk of stimulating industry—you took it seriously? Don’t tell me your uncle believes that."

Warner: "Whether he believes it or not, only he knows, but he’s decided to support the president."

Omar: "Unless he calls me personally, no, I don’t believe it, and moreover, it’s irrelevant to me, it has absolutely no effect on me."

Warner: "Of course, it does. The shareholders are all in favor of the president’s decision, and they’re discussing the expansion of the Parkermatch Factory, which will develop a large number of civilian products, such as bread machines, floor-cleaning robots, vacuum cleaners, televisions, air conditioners, and even cars."

"..."

Omar had a "you’ve got to be kidding me" look on his face, producing those home appliances in America, they’d probably lose money until they didn’t have pants to wear.

Even if there was a profit to be made, would those old gentlemen who made a killing just sitting around care about such small change? Moreover, without tariffs and industry protection, could they compete with Chinese products?

"Mr. Warner, you know what you’re talking about."

"You think it’s far-fetched too, don’t you? It does sound like it, but what if there are some additional conditions?"

"What additional conditions?"

Warner: "If, at that time, it’s not a direct and complete opening, but there is a transition period of a few months to a year. During this transition period, direct commodity imports are still restricted, and standard tariffs need to be paid.

But if the Chinese are willing to invest in local factories, they can enjoy the same preferential treatment as local enterprises, except for the ’Industrial Act’ subsidies which are only given to purely local enterprises, all other privileges are accessible.

Joint-venture factories can produce locally or import components with very low tariffs for assembly, and the final price wouldn’t increase too much compared to when they were produced in China—almost equal to zero-tariff imports."

As Warner finished speaking, Omar had almost understood the essence of what he said.

If this information was true, then it meant that the Parkermatch Factory no longer needed to camouflage the source of imports through multiple transfers; they could import directly through a joint venture legitimately.

The workload was reduced, and the profit margins actually increased.

It was the same for other goods; during this "transition period," as long as a company was formed for a joint venture, it could import a massive amount of cheap industrial products in an orderly manner, and then resell them under its own brand.

Omar was well aware of the price advantage of Chinese industrial products; even products from Island Country and Korea couldn’t compare, meaning even larger profit margins for the local joint venture partners.

Just by casually considering a few aspects, Omar could already see countless insane profits.

This huge temptation nearly made him lose his head, but he forcibly calmed down and asked with a stern face:

"And what about after the transition period?"

Warner laughed heartily upon hearing this question, his eyebrows flying up:

"When our joint-venture products sell in large quantities, those Chinese enterprises will expand production like crazy. With just a bit of restriction, these products will pile up and cause a glut, a few months of punishment would be enough to bankrupt a company. We still hold the dominant power!

And who knows how long the transition period can last? It’s not a stupid idea, on the contrary, it’s a stroke of genius!"

Omar finally couldn’t suppress his excitement, making a futile struggle in the end:

"Just us importing, what about the Chinese?"

"Of course, it’s the same! Our high-tech products can also be sold without hindrance, without facing unfair regulations, and similarly, we can also invest in many Chinese enterprises and export a large number of products.

Can’t America provide what the Chinese desire? Mr. Ziad is doing just that, and there are many others like him counting the advantages of both sides, you must cooperate with him!"

Omar: "If that’s the case, then you can come with me."

...

Moscow, 11 Lubianka Square.

"Name, age, nationality."

Belyakov didn’t lift his head, prepared to record, he emotionlessly spat out three English words.

The person on the other side of the bulletproof glass, who was only visible down to his wide-brimmed hat, cooperated and answered:

"Nate Dans, 34, an external employee of the UK Navy Intelligence Room, ordered to investigate information on the propulsion system of the ’God of the North Wind’ nuclear submarine.

I know I’m screwed and can only tell you this much. I also have a position at the embassy; you can detain me but not for more than 24 hours, someone will come to pay a large sum of bail."

Belyakov quickly glanced up at him. The appearance and data matched, and the preliminary investigation results seemed to align as well.

It looked like a typical mishap of an external intelligence operative, usually settled by a fine and release, as long as there’s no actual leak of secrets; these periphery personnel aren’t really given much importance.

Normally, an interrogator might be surprised by such cooperation, then contact a mediator to prepare the process, and most of the time, they’d simply let them go, ensuring that the person would not re-enter Russian territory.

But today’s situation was clearly different. Belyakov didn’t utter a word, just twirled his pen in place, seemingly indifferent.

A bad feeling began to stir in Nate’s heart. Usually, there would be two interrogators and a camera pointed in his face, but today there was only an intelligence officer he hadn’t heard of before sitting opposite him, which was highly irregular.

"Hey, I’ve saved up some nest egg. I’m willing to offer 30,000 US Dollars. Besides, I have some connections. Who do you want to exchange? I have a relative who can put in a word. I’m willing to cooperate."

He behaved no different from a regular external operative: trained but not full-time, with some useful connections, and on the timid side. It couldn’t be more normal.

Yet, Belyakov remained unresponsive, only lifting his head enough to let Nate see the mockery in his eyes.

Nate felt a sinking feeling in his gut.

"The Security Bureau is becoming less and less like itself over the years," Belyakov’s voice was sharp like a mouse, with a weird timbre that was uncomfortable to listen to as he began to complain:

"The KGB crumbled away like a castle on the beach, solid walls turned into loose sand, these fools have forgotten what they used to be.

They’ve become so incompetent that it’s shocking. But thankfully, the CIA isn’t doing any better, your techniques have gotten too rusty."

Nate was terror-stricken, realizing Belyakov’s slightly graying stubble and the deep ravines on his weathered face, yet his eyes still held a blade-like sharpness.

"Name, age, nationality!

Tell me everything you know. The KGB men scattered, but the interrogation room has acquired some new toys, which I like very much!"

Nate’s heart was uncontrollably racing, with his chest heaving violently and his breath becoming rapid.

What Belyakov said wasn’t wrong. Nate was sent to pry into the most classified of matters, but he was no Jason Statham, or James Bond - he couldn’t guarantee absolute success.

After the KGB shutdown, the CIA’s operational level dropped sharply. When he was trained, he didn’t receive the kind of extreme anti-interrogation training where the old veterans almost got tortured to death. He had only heard about the power of major memory restoration.

The thought that the old Russian before him could very likely be a KGB remnant sent a shiver down his spine.

Belyakov had already stood up, grabbing a pair of bolt cutters and pushing open the large door of the chamber.

...

Outside the interrogation room, several uniformed people roughly the same age as Belyakov were patiently waiting, leaning against a wall and smoking.

Even the screams from inside didn’t make their cigarette-holding fingers tremble; rather, it brought some pleasure to their owners.

"Sukabule, these Yankees couldn’t resist after all. They also want this stuff."

"The Ministry of Defense should now realize our importance. We need more funding to complete the upgrade of ’Aurora II’!"

"Let Belyakov extract some more stuff; we must draw attention from the top."

"..."