Xiaomi Heavy Industry, its first entrepreneurial venture!

Chapter 307 Mutual Schemes! (First Update!)

Anyone who has been a professional terrorist knows that to become a qualified terrorist, one needs to learn some systematic knowledge.

For example, knowing where to strap the explosives to make your death quicker.

For example, there are four ways to wrap TNT.

Without an organized group, it would be virtually impossible for an ordinary terrorist to obtain weapons and equipment.

Of course, joining an organization won't get you any equipment.

Because those things don't grow from the ground, they are produced by people using raw materials. Since they are produced, there are costs involved, and costs need to be paid to obtain enough equipment.

There's a joke that says capitalists, given enough profit, will sell even the rope that hanged them.

But in reality, capitalists aren't that stupid. They just sell a few strands of cord to people to strangle, but they don't actually kill them.

Ordinary firearms and TNT explosives are what capitalists sell.

As for more advanced weapons, that would be ropes.

Capitalists won't sell easily, and they certainly won't sell to terrorists.

Because they couldn't guarantee that someone holding the rope wouldn't kill them.

A more advanced weapon is a rope, and a dirty bomb is simply a rope with an electrical wire attached and a power source connected to it.

Badri never expected that his first transaction with this stranger would result in this item being given to him directly.

I simply don't know what to say.

He suppressed his excitement and slowly walked forward, but after taking two steps, the clothes and appearance of the person who had just opened the door suddenly appeared in his mind.

In less than half a second, his brain forced his body to shut down and stop in place.

He closed his eyes, offered a sincere prayer to God in his heart, then opened his eyes again and took a few steps back.

Albert saw all of his actions. He smiled, but his heart was filled with contempt.

Coward!
Stepping back to what he considered a safe distance, Badri took a deep breath and looked back at Albert:
“Mr. Albert, I would like to know why you are willing to give us this?”

Faced with the question, Albert remained very calm. He took a few steps forward, walked straight into the container, and went to the shelf.

Under the horrified gazes of Badri and the other two, he patted the bomb casing with his hand: "Didn't you want to kill someone?"

“You guys are always yelling about killing Amykas, Shiites, Yazidis, Iranians, Soviets, and Europeans.”

"You can't yell at me every day, can you?"

"I've brought the things over to you!"

As he spoke, Albert turned around and saw the fear he had been looking for on Badri's face. He then patted the bomb casing with great satisfaction.

After a few loud snapping sounds, he stood in front of Badri again:
"You've seen the weapons and equipment, now it's time to pay!"

After saying this, Albert noticed that Badri didn't act immediately or take out the money, and the smile on his face quickly faded.
"Don't you dare tell me you didn't bring any money. If you don't, then none of you are leaving today."

The purpose of the threat was obvious, and Badri snapped out of his reverie upon hearing the voice.

He shook the box in his hand:

“Mr. Albert, this is our first transaction. In our Arab dictionary, the first transaction is the one we guard against.”

"I brought some money, but it's not enough!"

"So, our deal needs to be extended, and I need to go back to get the money."

“If Mr. Albert is not afraid, then please wait here for me for two hours while I go back to get the money.”

“If Mr. Albert is afraid, he may send someone with me.”

“Go ahead!” Albert waved his hand impatiently, as if shooing away a fly, signaling Badri to hurry up and get the money.

He smiled at the other person, then turned around and, with his two guards behind him, walked out the way they had come.

Albert was right behind them, watching the three leave.

As soon as the three disappeared into the darkness, the captain of the guard approached Albert and gestured to his neck with his hand: "Sir, shall we..."

No sooner had the captain of the guard finished asking his question than Albert slammed his hand on his head, followed by a string of curses: "Kill him? Go and kill those Arabs for me!"

"Save it!"

"Look at yourselves, you pathetic creatures!"

"You keep calling yourselves elite, but an elite like yours is just..."

As he continued hurling insults, Albert realized his cultural knowledge was so poor that he couldn't find the right words to describe it.

Helplessly, he waved his hand and crossed his arms, looking in the direction where Badri and the others had left.

After a while, the captain of the guard came over again:
"Sir, are they not coming back?"

"I feel like these guys aren't as obedient as they seem."

"What if these guys get the equipment and then refuse to cooperate? Wouldn't our plan be ruined?"

These two sentences successfully attracted Albert's attention. He slowly turned around, looked at the captain of the guard, and said menacingly:

"If you can't speak properly, then shut your mouth."

"He's a terrorist. If he were obedient, why would he be a terrorist?"

"Look at you, so obedient! What kind of monster are you?"

Whether he listens or not is none of our business!

"Our purpose in giving them weapons and equipment is to make them kill each other. As long as they point their guns at Arabs, no matter which country's Arabs they are from, it will be a victory for us."

"Understand?"

"You pig! Don't think too highly of yourself, and don't think too highly of others either."

"Who do you think you are? And who do you think he is?"

"Go, close the container door!"

After being scolded, the captain of the guard team lowered his head and walked reluctantly toward the container, directing the others to close it.

On the other side, Badri led the two out of the port. Instead of rushing to get the money, they found a slightly higher spot near the port and stood there to overlook the entire port.

After watching for a short while, he turned away with a look of disappointment.

The two men behind him quickly caught up and asked, "Chief, why did you stop watching?"

"What are you looking at? Those guys are professionals, they're well hidden, you can't see them at all." Badri didn't even turn his head, and walked back towards where they had parked.

Soon, the three found the Toyota pickup truck parked on the side of the road.

Badri opened the carriage cover, took out a satellite phone, and then dialed a number using it.

Less than half an hour after the broadcast started, several trucks drove out of the darkness and parked on the side of the road.

A man jumped out of the first truck, quickly walked up to Badri, looked him over, and then asked:
"Is there something wrong?"

The man was Jeparan. Hearing his concern, Badri shook his head slightly: "Those guys gave us four dirty bombs!" The word "dirty bomb" made Jeparan subconsciously look up, his eyes fixed on Badri. After staring for a while, seeing no unusual expression on the other's face, he asked in a low voice:
"is that true?"

"These guys can get their hands on something like that?"

"Could they be trying to get us to do something?"

Badri didn't take Jeparan's question to heart, waving his hand impatiently. His gaze swept around Jeparan, but not seeing what he wanted, he frowned and asked:
"Where's the money?"

"I'll go get it now!" Meeting Badri's displeased gaze, Jeparan was startled and quickly turned around, running to the fuel tank of the truck he had just been driving.

The metal protective panel of the truck's fuel tank was opened, revealing five silver-white combination-lock briefcases inside.

It took a lot of effort for Jeparan to pull the five combination-lock suitcases out from under the truck.

Then he called four more men, each carrying a briefcase, who slowly approached Badri:

"The $1000 million you mentioned is all here!"

Badri laid one of the suitcases down, opened it, took out several stacks of banknotes, brought them to his nose, took a light sniff, and said with a look of intoxication:
"The dollar definitely smells better!"

After assessing the smell of the banknotes, he put them back in his box, stood up, and waved his right hand towards the port:
"Let's go, let's make a deal."

Inside the container stacks.

The captain of the guard brought Badri and the others, who had returned, to Albert, and then dutifully stepped aside to act as their security guard.

Upon seeing Albert again, Badri didn't waste any words. He took the five suitcases from Jeparan, laid them down one by one in front of Albert, and then opened them one by one:

"Each box contains $200 million, and Mr. Albert is free to look through them."

Albert didn't mince words. With a wave of his hand, two guards dragged a banknote detector out of a nearby container and then walked past Albert to the five boxes.

Powered by a battery, the banknote detector began to run wildly, frantically swallowing and spitting out banknotes.

Those flawed, potentially counterfeit US dollars were identified one by one by the banknote detector and then rejected.

Albert was right next to it when the money detector spat out a counterfeit bill, which he picked up.

Finally, on the table next to them, there was a thick stack of counterfeit bills.

It weighs about 10 kilograms.

Albert patted the counterfeit bills with his hand and asked Badri with a smile:

"Won't you explain it?"

Badri offered no explanation, but instead pulled out his gun and began firing wildly at the four men who had emerged from Jeparan behind him.

After a magazine of bullets was fired, the four men were beyond dead.

After killing the man, Badri unloaded the bullets from his gun, then stepped forward, bowed to Albert, and said:
"I apologize, Mr. Albert. I failed to properly discipline my subordinates, and they made a grave mistake. Please forgive me!"

Across from him, Albert watched Badri's performance quietly. As a member of Mossad, he had witnessed far too many betrayals and far too many attempts to shift blame.

The banknotes Badri just gave me were all $100 bills.

10 kilograms, that's about $80.

With so much money, even if those little karami had a hundred times the courage, they wouldn't dare to touch it.

The only explanation is that this guy in front of me instructed those little karami to do this.

But the guy in front of me was ruthless; he killed people outright.

Let's just leave no evidence against them.

He is a ruthless person.

But it's ruthless to the point of being a bit stupid.

Albert gave a dismissive assessment of Badri, then pointed to the shipping containers:

"Alright, for our first transaction, I'll take the loss."

"These goods are all yours!"

“Get the money!”

At his command, the guards beside him stepped over him, locked the briefcase containing the money, and put away the money counter and its battery before returning to Albert's side.

With the money in hand, Albert didn't want to linger. He waved to Badri again, then turned and led his team away without hesitation.

Instead of leaving the land, he went around in circles and returned to the dock.

Two small tourist boats were moored in a secluded corner of the dock.

Most of the guard boarded the left-hand cruise ship, while Albert and the captain of the guard, carrying a briefcase full of banknotes, boarded the right-hand cruise ship.

There was no trace of a cruise ship inside the cabin; instead, there were several computers and a large amount of audio and video recording equipment.

Several people were sitting in front of the computer, wearing headphones. Hearing the noise next to them, they all quickly turned around.

Upon seeing that it was Albert, these people quickly looked away and focused their attention on the computer screen in front of them.

On the far left of the computer screen, there was a map of the port. In the lower left corner of the map, there were about 10 green dots clustered together, flashing gently at a very subtle frequency.

Albert walked over and stared at the green dots for about half an hour before they started moving.

The map on the computer screen also shrinks as these green dots move, allowing those present to clearly see the location of these green dots.

A sound of footsteps came from the side. Albert turned around and saw his partner, Barcross.

The other person was holding a cup of coffee and looking at him with great interest.

Their eyes met, and Bachrose asked directly:
"Where do you think they'll take these weapons? I bet it'll be their base!"

“No!” Albert shook his head, pointing to the green indicator on the computer screen:

"They're heading east now, and I'm 100% sure that those bastards are planning to transport this equipment to Damascus."

"Imagine Damascus, the land that produces Damask roses, experiencing four dirty bomb explosions."

Do you think Damask roses can still grow in that land?

Albert's question reached Bach's ears, and he couldn't help but lick his lips, then shook his head regretfully:
"Pity!"

Damascus is not only a holy site for Arabs, but also a holy site for Jews.

The explosion of these four bombs in Damascus, if not controlled properly, could have affected the entire city.

By then, not only will the Damask Rose be useless, but even the Damask Iron Man will be of no use.

But that’s fine.

So many Arabs lived in Damascus, and they were all sent to heaven, all sent to their deaths.

Then the Jews could rightfully occupy the Golan Heights and control the entire country's water resources.

It's such a pity that such a beautiful land has given rise to such despicable people as Arabs.

They should all be killed!

(End of this chapter)