Chapter 730 Aurora

Chapter 730 Aurora II

Seattle.

"You idiots, be careful, hey! Can't you handle it with care? This is an aircraft part!"

Omar walked in the huge logistics warehouse. The huge noise of the exhaust fan made everyone wear noise-canceling headphones. He had to use the loudest voice to command his workers.

But in fact, no one could hear what he said, but as long as they saw their boss's exaggerated body movements and roaring expression, they would naturally be more careful.

Parkmarch Machinery Manufacturing Company, a medium-sized factory located in Seattle, mainly provides various hardware parts used in aircraft, and also undertakes machine maintenance work.

The factory has more than 2,000 people, but most of the production work is done in South America or Southeast Asia. Only a small number of parts are produced here, and assembly and maintenance are carried out.

The aircraft business has brought huge profits to the Parkmarch factory, but Omar still often supervises on the spot. He knows that his nominal boss is just a small role.

Because the main customer group of the Parkmarch factory is several air force bases in the east, ordinary people can't get air force orders.

The Parkmarch factory has an annual turnover of more than one billion US dollars, which can provide a considerable income for several congressmen and military officers behind it. Of course, the most important role is to smooth out the bad debts.

There are always inexplicable black holes in the accounts of the air force base. The best way to erase them is to transfer them to daily maintenance costs. After all, the young men are always too rough in operation, and it is understandable that the loss of flying rookies is high.

Parkmarch's parts are of excellent quality and are specially supplied to various types of aircraft. It is reasonable that the price is slightly higher.

Omar walked to the "defective" area and grabbed a handful of ordinary spring washers from the pried open wooden box, carefully observing the surface treatment and shape.

The factory's quality inspection method is not to pick up one by one. As long as a certain number of defective rates are detected, the batch of parts will be judged as "defective" and cannot be used, and will be directly sent for destruction or resale.

Omar keenly discovered that the treatment of several gaskets in his hand was too rough, and the anti-oxidation and anti-rust process was obviously not in place. He immediately got angry and called the corresponding supervisor, scolding him:

"Look at what kind of garbage this is. I can even break it apart with my hands. This supplier should be removed immediately. When did the quality of Annan's parts become so poor!"

Omar stared at the supervisor's expression. "Annan" in this context actually refers to China. After the trade barriers between the two countries began, the number of "Annan" suppliers in the Parkmarch factory increased significantly, and the quality remained as stable as before. It is impossible for such inferior products to appear.

"Sorry, Mr. Omar, this is not produced by Annan. Their recent delivery was delayed. This batch was made by an Indian supplier."

India, that is Congressman Slater? Or Colonel Perlis?

Omar thought about the names of several agents, impatiently drove the supervisor aside, thinking about how to knock them, and the appearance of eating should not be too ugly.

Since there are a lot of accounts to settle this year, the Air Force base has raised the unit price of this batch of gaskets to $25 each. With $25, you can buy a small gasket that is only 1 mm thick and less than 10 mm in diameter!

Omar bets that the cost of making this thing "Annan" is less than 25 cents, but this is arms sales, this is the military-industrial complex, and the masters of Congress and the Pentagon cannot lose this channel.

Even if the Parkmarch factory removes the "fire consumption" of layers of joints, a gasket like this can still make a profit of $5, plus the subsidy from John's "Industrial Act", it can increase by another $0.5, which is also a considerable income.

If the subsidy from the "Industrial Act" can last for a year, then...

"Manager, there are two people looking for you outside!"

The secretary's voice interrupted his thinking. The person who could reach his ear obviously needed to meet. Omar pulled his sleeves irritably, and then saw two visitors outside the factory:

Two young white men, one of whom he recognized as a relative of a major shareholder of the Parkmarch factory, also a white glove.

The other one was wearing a formal suit, but the color was too plain, like an insurance salesman.

"Omar, this is a friend of mine, we need to know something."

Warner introduced the "insurance man", and Omar knew his name was Ziad, and nodded as a greeting.

"Whatever you need to know, I can show you everything except the accounts."

Ziad: "I want to know the yield rate, purchase price and quantity of the Chinese products you sell."

Omar stared at his nose carefully, eager to punch this guy while no one was around.

"Uh... Hey stop it, calm down."

Werner quickly tried to smooth things over, and at the same time emphasized:

"Ziad is a think tank expert, he got the permission."

"Whose permission, the permission that killed us? We only produce pure Aramco products, and just import raw materials from Southeast Asia or South America."

Werner: "Calm down, calm down! Ziyad is one of us, listen to my explanation, let's go to your office to talk!"

...

"Manager Omar, you should have heard that Aramco opened a large number of industry restrictions to China."

"Oh, I know, it was proposed by a fool. If so, your uncle will not get tens of millions of dollars in dividends. It's just a delusion of a mental patient."

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

Omar sat up straight from his half-lying body, and asked in disbelief:

"What... "Industrial Catfish", do you take the idea of ​​stimulating industry seriously? Don't tell me your uncle believes this."

Werner: "Only he knows whether he believes it or not, but he has decided to support the president."

Omar: "Unless he calls me personally, no, I don't believe it, and it has nothing to do with me and has no impact on me at all."

Werner: "Of course, the shareholders all agree with the president's decision and are discussing the expansion of the Parkmarch factory. In the future, a large number of civilian products will be developed here, such as bread machines, sweeping robots, vacuum cleaners, TVs, air conditioners and even cars."

"..."

Omar had a "are you kidding me" look on his face. If he produces these home appliances in Aramco, he might lose everything.

Even if it is profitable, these gentlemen who make a lot of money by sitting here will look down on this little money? Besides, if there are no tariffs and industry protection, can they compare with Chinese products?

"Mr. Werner, you know what you are talking about."

"You also think this is a fantasy, right? It sounds true, but what if there are some additional conditions?"

"What additional conditions?"

Werner: "If it is not completely open at that time, but there is a transition period of several months to a year, direct imports of goods will still be restricted during this transition period, and heavy tariffs of the standard amount will be required.

But if Chinese people are willing to invest in local factories, they can enjoy the same preferential treatment as local companies. Except that the subsidies of the Industrial Act are only issued to purely local companies, all other preferential treatments can be enjoyed.

Joint venture factories can produce locally, or import parts and components at extremely low tariffs for assembly. The final price is not much higher than when they were in China, and it is almost equivalent to zero-tariff imports."

When Werner finished speaking, Omar almost understood the essence of what he said.

If this information is true, it means that the Parkmarch factory no longer needs to transfer through layers to cover up the import source, and can import directly through joint ventures.

The workload has been reduced, but the profit has increased.

The same is true for other commodities. During this "transition period", as long as a company is randomly set up for joint venture, it is logical to import a large amount of cheap industrial products and then sell them under OEM.

Omar is quite clear about the price advantage of Chinese industrial products. Even the products of the island and the country cannot compare with them, which means that the local joint venture partners have greater profit space.

Just by thinking of a few aspects, Omar has seen countless crazy profits.

This huge temptation almost made him faint, but he still forced himself to calm down and asked with a straight face:

"What about after the transition period?"

Werner laughed at this question and raised his eyebrows:

"When our joint venture products are sold in large quantities, those Chinese companies will expand production crazily. As long as we impose a little restriction, these products will pile up and be unsalable. A few months of punishment is enough to bankrupt a company. We still hold the dominant position!

And who knows how long the transition period will last? This is not a stupid idea, but a genius idea!"

Omar finally couldn't suppress his excitement and finally struggled in vain:

"It's 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. Similarly, we can also invest in many Chinese companies and export a large number of products.

Is Aramco unable to provide what the Chinese want? Mr. Ziad is doing this. There are many people like him who are counting the advantages of both sides. You have to cooperate with him!"

Omar: "If so, you can follow me."

...

Moscow, Lubyanka Square No. 11.

"Name, age, nationality."

Beliakov didn't even raise his head, lowered his head to prepare for recording, and uttered three English words without emotion.

The person on the other side of the bulletproof glass only saw his wide-brimmed hat and answered very cooperatively:

"Nate Dance, 34 years old, a peripheral employee of the Navy Intelligence Office, was ordered to investigate the propulsion system information of the 'Borey' nuclear submarine.

I know I'm in trouble, and I can only tell you this. I also have an identity as an embassy staff. You can detain me but not for more than 24 hours. Someone will come to pay a large bail."

Beliakov quickly raised his head and glanced at him. The appearance and information matched, and the preliminary investigation results seemed to be the same.

It looks like an ordinary peripheral intelligence personnel failure, but because of the diplomatic identity, they will basically collect a fine and release the person. As long as there is no actual leak, this kind of peripheral personnel is actually not taken seriously.

If it is normal, the interrogator may be surprised at the other party's cooperation, and then contact the middleman to prepare the process. Most of the time, they will be released, and the other party will not enter Lucia again.

But the situation today was obviously a little different. Belyakov didn't say a word, just spinning his pen in place, looking completely nonchalant.

Knight felt a little uneasy. Normally there would be two interrogators and a camera filming his face, but today there was only an intelligence officer sitting opposite him whom he had never heard of. This was very unusual.

"Hey, I've saved some money, I'm willing to give $30,000, and I have some connections. Who do you want to replace? I have a relative who can speak, and I'm willing to cooperate."

He behaved like an ordinary peripheral staff, trained but not full-time, with some connections to use, and timid, which is normal.

However, Belyakov still had no reaction, just raised his head a little so that Knight could see the teasing in his eyes.

Knight's heart sank.

"The Security Bureau has become less and less decent over the years."

Beliakov's voice was as sharp as a mouse, and the strange tone made people uncomfortable. He actually started to complain:

"The KGB collapsed like a castle on the beach, and the solid walls turned into loose mud and sand. These idiots no longer remember what they were like before.

They are so incompetent that I am shocked, but fortunately, the CIA is not much better. Your methods are too rusty."

Knight was already horrified, and then he found that Beliakov had some gray stubble, and his vicissitudes of life were full of ravines, but his eyes were still as sharp as a blade.

"Name, age, nationality!

Tell me everything you know. The KGB people have dispersed, but the interrogation room has added a lot of new things. I like it very much!"

Knight's heart began to beat wildly uncontrollably, and his chest rose and fell violently, and his breathing became rapid.

What Belyakov said was absolutely right. He was sent to spy on the most confidential things, but he was not an immortal ace like Jason Statham or James Bond, and he could not be foolproof.

After the collapse of the KGB, the CIA's business level also dropped sharply. During his training, he did not receive the ultimate anti-torture training like his predecessors who were almost tortured to death. He had only heard of the power of the great memory recovery technique.

When he thought that the old Russian in front of him was most likely a remnant of the KGB, he could not help but shudder.

Belyakov had already stood up, picked up a pair of pliers and pushed open the door of the compartment.

...

Outside the interrogation room, several people of the same age as Belyakov and in uniform were waiting patiently, leaning against the wall and smoking together.

The screams inside did not even make the fingers holding the cigarette tremble, but instead made their owners a little happy.

"Sukabulie, these Yankees can't help themselves, they also want this kind of thing."

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

"Let Bekov pay more and make sure to attract the attention of the higher-ups."

"..."