Xiaomi Heavy Industry, its first entrepreneurial venture!

Chapter 306 The Mad Jews! (Third Update!)
【We can wait!!!】Little Sader replied to Lin Yi decisively, adding several exclamation marks to show his determination.

The other party responded quickly.

Just a simple "ok".

Upon receiving the message, Sadr put his phone in his pocket, turned around and looked into the room. In the backlit corner opposite him, he could vaguely see a person sitting there.

As Sadr looked over, the other man raised his head, revealing a long, bearded face in the shadows.

It's Zais.

They exchanged a glance, and he calmly asked, "What did they say over there?"

"Lin Yi told me to wait a while. He said that after a period of time, the drones they have will be able to be equipped with satellite positioning systems." With these brief words, Little Sader repeated Lin Yi's statement and quietly looked at Zais.

I want to see what the other person is thinking next.

In the dimly lit corner, Zais was stunned upon hearing these words.

They were no strangers to the Global Positioning System (GPS), after all, they were constantly dealing with the Americans, and the Americans were constantly using Reaper and Predator drones to deal with them.

In order to avoid being further defeated, the Iranians once gave them a few Russian Igla surface-to-air missiles, instructing them to use these missiles to try and take down a Predator or Reaper drone, intending to study the drone's GPS system and, incidentally, break it.

They lived up to expectations and successfully shot down a Predator drone.

But that time, it was like they had stirred up a hornet's nest; America's ground forces, air forces, and drones...

They flocked out as if it were free.

After a fierce confrontation, they ultimately failed to retain the drone data terminal that they had worked so hard to acquire.

They could only watch as Soldier America drove off with the wreckage of the terminal.

Since then, America's drones have never come close to the ground again.

Hearing this again two years later, Zais couldn't help but think of his comrades who died in that battle.

Thinking about these things, his thoughts slowly returned, and he gradually focused his gaze back on little Sader.

Given America's emphasis on data terminals, the positioning system must be extremely important.

But when I got here, it felt like I was being sold chickpeas.
After hesitating for a moment, he finally asked the question that had been on his mind:

"What about the price? Won't it become very expensive if it's equipped with a GPS system?"

"We may have some money, but money doesn't grow on trees."

"And now that we've broken away from Iran, we have to be careful with this money until we get new sources of income."

The questions, one after another, kept Sadr silent.

I was so excited when I heard the term "location system" that I forgot to ask Lin Yi.

But after thinking for a while, he gently shook his head: "I believe Lin Yi. He's not the kind of person who's obsessed with money, and he would never sell drones at an exorbitant price!"

"And the problem now is not with drones."

"And what do you plan to do next? Continue flirting with Iran? Continue targeting the American people? Or do something else?"

Zais, standing in the shadows, couldn't help but frown as he listened to the barrage of questions.

After a few seconds, he gently shook his head: "We will still have limited cooperation with Iran."

"As for anything else... I doubt it will."

"The biggest problem for the Justice League right now is that it doesn't have a place to settle down. The territory they built up before was sold directly to the Americans by the Iranians. It will be very difficult to get a new territory now."

"Sometimes I envy those Hezbollah guys; they're bold and quick."

"Damn, several thousand people just ran away without warning, and they all went to Syria in a frenzy."

"Now I hear they are receiving support from the Syrian government, and Russian instructors are helping them train their teams."

Speaking of Hezbollah, Zais couldn't help but sigh again.

If he had gone with them back then, he wouldn't be in this predicament in Iraq now.

Only those who have started a business know how difficult it is.

He banished those jumbled thoughts from his mind and looked up at young Sadr:

"What suggestions do you have? Or what suggestions does your father have?"

"My father?" Little Sader looked up, recalling his father whom he hadn't seen in a long time.

The other party did indeed mention the Justice League in their call two days ago.

I also commented a few times.

My father had said that if the Justice League wanted to continue operating in Iraq, it had to clear its name, and at least not be caught in the middle between the American people and the Iraqi government forces.

They must transform from an Iranian-backed armed group into an Iraqi political party; only then can they gain the support of the conservatives.

If it becomes a political party in Iraq, then it cannot oppose the American people, or rather, it cannot oppose them openly.

But opposing the Americans and seeking revenge is the foundation of the Justice League's existence.

If they don't seek revenge, their own internal situation might descend into chaos.

Although his father was rather cowardly in war, he was ultimately better at understanding problems than his father.

After replaying his father's words in his mind several times, young Sadr gently shook his head:

You might not be able to use his advice.

"Tell me about it, maybe it will come in handy?" Zais went a step further, wanting to hear Sadr's opinion.

Seeing his appearance, young Sader carefully organized his father's words in his mind and whispered them back to him.

After recounting the events, fearing that Zais might not understand, he added:
“My father said that if you choose to do this, it will be very similar to the current situation in Iran.”

"Their supreme leader is unable to explain the necessity of anti-America to the entire Iranian population."

"And in Tehran and several other major cities, the large landowners who had witnessed the Pahlavi dynasty's rule were not purged and are still alive."

"They will keep comparing present-day Iran with Iran in the past."

"This will exacerbate the division."

"So I suggest you don't do that."

In the shadows, Zais listened to these words and slowly lowered his head.

After about ten minutes, he looked up, a faint, bitter smile on his face, and said:

"You can actually give it a try!"

"Maybe we can become the largest political party in Iraq, and then lead the whole country against the American people!"

The answer was so off-topic that even Sadr Jr. didn't know how to respond.

If Zais can really do it, then he's simply amazing.

He gave the person opposite him a thumbs-up and then asked:
"So what are your plans next?"

Sadr's words were very serious. Zais now had other ideas, which meant he might have even more ideas in the future.

We're still friends for now, but who knows what will happen in the future.

Hearing his words, Zais assumed he was worried and shrugged: "Of course, it's to clear my name!"

"According to our intelligence, there is a group of ISI members operating in the area from Kirkuk to Baghdad."

"And it's rampant."

"If, at this crucial moment, we suddenly appear out of nowhere and kill these guys, do you think we'll have a chance to clear our names?" In that instant, Sadr finally connected the dots, and he stared at Zais in astonishment:
"So that's why you came to me asking for weapons?"

“Yes!” Zais didn’t hide anything, nodding his head decisively in admission:
"We are better at fighting than them, especially if we have more advanced weapons."

"We can defeat them with ease. The sooner we take control of their base, the better for us."

"so!"

"Give me the drone and gas cylinder you have left, and we'll settle the bill later!"

When money was involved, the blood ties between the two Arabs began to awaken.

"Don't even think about it! Cash on delivery! Go ask around outside, who sells weapons on delivery first, then payment!"

"You don't know anything! Providing equipment now is called an investment!"

"You've switched to a political party just for voting, so we're now rivals. I call this aiding the enemy!"

"Don't put it so harshly, investment! Imagine I become a political party, and you're my supporter. Then you're the hidden mastermind behind the scenes. Just imagine, just imagine, you're secretly controlling the world. Just thinking about it is exhilarating!"

"What a load of rubbish! Why don't I do it myself?"

"If even your father can't go, what makes you think you can!"

"My father is my father! I am me, and I will definitely be better than my father!"

"Your dad thought the same thing back then, that he would be better than your grandfather, but look at the mess he's made of now..."

Ultimately, Zais brought this pointless debate to a close.

Sadr Jr. was defeated, so he opted to increase the price by 40%.

"Damn beast! Even worse than those beasts who support terrorists!"

While their arms deal is complete, more than 1000 kilometers to the west, in Latakia, a Syrian coastal city, an arms deal is underway.

Dressed in a white suit, presenting himself as a European and American business elite, Badri arrived at the port of Latakia with several people and carrying suitcases.

After exchanging coded messages with their contact, the contact led them through a dense array of shipping containers, down narrow alleys, and into a container that had been converted into a small room.

Under the warm yellow light, there was a table more than a meter long and 80 centimeters wide. Opposite the table, a person was playing cards.

Hearing the container door open, the other person looked up and nodded to the three men in Badri.
"Mr. Gitales, you are half an hour late."

Gitales is Badri's pseudonym.

Upon hearing the other person's words, the smile on his face quickly turned into a fawning one. He took two quick steps forward, carrying his briefcase in both hands, and apologized to the other person with a servile expression.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Albert! We would like to hurry, but as you know, we can’t reach the west coast of Syria.”

"That's why we arrived a little slowly."

"Please forgive me, Mr. Albert."

"To show our sincerity, I'd like to apologize first!"

As he spoke, Badri reached into his briefcase with his right hand. Before he could pull his hand out, Albert across from him was a step ahead, pulling a Glock 18 from under the table and slamming it onto the table.

Upon seeing the gun, Badri gave an awkward laugh, quickly pulled his hand away, and displayed what he was holding to Albert.

gold.

A piece of gold, approximately 10 centimeters long, 3 centimeters thick, and 5 centimeters wide.

Under the warm yellow light, the gold exudes an alluring luster.

After a few seconds of display, Badri reached his right hand onto the table, loosened his grip, and the gold slammed onto the table with a clang.

A small dent was left on the table, and a corner of the gold was slightly deformed.

The dull thud and the deformation it caused were telling Albert that this was a real piece of gold.

After mentally assessing its value, Albert smiled, grabbed the gold in his hand, and weighed it in his hand:
"Very pure!"

He withdrew his finger, and the gold slid down his sleeve and into his clothes.

But when the gold rolled out of his sleeve, it hit his waist, making him groan.

Putting away the gold, Albert pointed to the door behind him:
"This way!"

After saying that, he got up and walked towards the door without waiting for Badri to speak.

Badri and his men quickly followed, passing through several gaps before finally stopping in front of five blue shipping containers.

Around these five blue shipping containers, there were more than thirty fully armed men, standing there casually as if they wanted to be seen by everyone around them.

Upon seeing Albert arrive with his entourage, the guards immediately greeted him with beaming smiles.

"Mr. Albert!"

"Open the container!"

The guards carried out his orders and opened the first four containers as quickly as possible, leaving only the fifth one unopened.

The first container on the left is opened, revealing Badri's favorite gun.

But after taking a closer look at the guns inside the container, Badri's face immediately darkened:

"You gave me America's discarded M16, didn't you?"

In a single sentence, the man with the gloomy face became Albert, who pulled a gun from the container and thrust it directly in front of Badri:

"Idiot, this is a Korean K2, where the hell did you see this thing as an M16?"

Albert tossed the empty gun to Badri and led him toward the next container.

This container contains bullets.

Boxes and boxes of bullets.

The third container still contained bullets.

By the fourth container, the contents had changed.

It's a mortar.

However, the entire container only contained 5 cannons and not many shells; the container was completely empty.

Although it was little, Badri didn't mind; after all, something was better than nothing.

After examining the first container, Badri turned his attention to the fifth one.

The container wasn't opened, but it was obvious that there were good things inside.

What good stuff could it be?
Under his ardent gaze, Albert stepped back more than ten meters before directing his men to open the box.

The person who opened the box was wearing a rubber protective suit from head to toe.

Upon seeing this, Badri also realized that something was wrong.

But his intense curiosity compelled him to keep his eyes glued to the screen.

The container door opened, revealing the contents of the container to Badri.

Inside was a metal rack, and on the rack were four round... missile... bombs.

But the sharp-eyed Badri noticed that a symbol for a nuclear hazard was clearly printed on the head of the bomb.

He quickly turned to look at Albert, who smiled at him.
"The infancy of a nuclear bomb: the dirty bomb!"

"Perfect for getting rid of those damn guys!"

(End of this chapter)