Chapter 1908 - 1411: Empire Bureaucracy_2

"Got it." Song Heping interrupted him, "Can our people start working?"

Swift was taken aback, clearly unaccustomed to being directly interrupted like this.

Major Walker's brow furrowed, his finger stopped tapping.

"A security briefing is required first," Walker began, "Then you'll need to obtain passes. Some areas of the base are still considered sensitive, unauthorized entry will be viewed as a threat."

"Of course." Song Heping smiled, "We will fully comply with the regulations."

The security briefing was conducted in a temporary tent and lasted forty-five minutes.

A sergeant droned monotonously through the precautions.

No photography, no personal electronic devices allowed in the warehouse area, all checks must be accompanied by US soldiers, report any anomalies immediately...

The dozens of mercenaries brought by Song Heping listened quietly; they were veterans and knew how to behave in these situations.

Jiang Feng sat beside Song Heping, occasionally recording key points in a notebook.

After the briefing, Swift led them on a tour of the main warehouse area.

This base is smaller than Taji Camp but more meticulously planned.

Light weapons warehouse, ammunition warehouse, vehicle repair depot, electronic equipment warehouse...

Each area has independent security measures.

In front of a large hangar, Swift paused, "This is the heavy equipment area. Stryker Armored Vehicles, M-ATV anti-mine vehicles, and some engineering vehicles."

The hangar doors slowly opened, lights switched on one by one.

More than thirty Strykers were lined up neatly, their desert camouflage shining matte under the lights.

Further in were anti-mine vehicles and several M113 armored personnel carriers.

"What is the condition of this equipment?" Song Heping asked.

"Most are in good working condition."

The response came from one of the contractor representatives, a redheaded man named Davis, "We conduct basic maintenance weekly, and a full inspection monthly. Some vehicles need battery replacements, and some tires are aging, but those are minor issues."

Song Heping approached a Stryker, touched the armor plate on its side.

Cold, smooth, almost without any scratches.

He checked the odometer—423 miles.

"These vehicles haven't moved much since they arrived in Illiguo?" he asked.

Davis and Swift exchanged a glance.

"After troop rotations, the equipment was stored," Swift said cautiously, "In the final stage of the anti-terrorism war, many pieces were in standby status. Now, with the accelerated troop withdrawal process, these standby equipment have become excess materials."

Song Heping nodded, refraining from further questioning.

But he knew in his heart, the so-called "excess" often implied procurement padding, plan changes leading to chaos, and pervasive inefficiency and waste throughout the system.

Dinner was held in the base cafeteria.

Song Heping and Jiang Feng were assigned to the officers' dining area, sharing a table with Swift, Major Walker, and two civilian specialists.

The food was standard US Army field rations.

Steak, mashed potatoes, green beans, and an unlimited supply of cola and coffee.

The cafeteria's TV broadcasted CNN news regarding a Washington budget debate.

"Mr. Song, how long have you been in the arms trade?" the bald civilian specialist asked.

His name was Johnson; during introductions, he mentioned that he was an auditor from the logistics command.

"Over a decade." Song Heping cut into his steak, "I've done some small business in Eastern Europe and Africa, mainly in the Middle East for the past ten years."

"Quite experienced." Johnson adjusted his glasses, "Then you must know, with a large-scale intergovernmental material transfer like this, the process can be very... complex."

Song Heping put down his knife and fork, looking at him, "How complex?"

"The standard procedure has seven checkpoints," Johnson said slowly, "Ministry of Defense logistics command, Central Command logistics section, US Military Joint Material Processing Center in Iraq, Defense Contract Management Agency, General Audit Office Iraq office, State Department Nonproliferation Office, and finally the Illiguo Government Reception Committee. Each step requires independent reports, on-site inspections, and waiting for approvals."

"Time?"

"Under normal circumstances, three to six months." Johnson sipped his coffee, "But if certain segments encounter... delays, it can drag on for over a year."

Jiang Feng couldn't help but speak up, "Our contract stipulates the transfer must be completed within thirty days."

"A contract is a contract; a procedure is a procedure."

The younger civilian specialist interjected.

His name was Miller; he looked no older than thirty but spoke with a composure that belied his age, "In a mature system, the former often has to give way to the latter."

Major Walker had been silently eating, suddenly looked up, "Mr. Song, let me be candid. The base's stockpile includes some... sensitive items. Javelin anti-tank missile systems, Stinger anti-aircraft missiles, and a batch of new individual radios. The standard procedure for transferring these requires an additional seventeen approvals."

"But our signed contract includes all these items," Song Heping said calmly, "And there's a clause in the contract, prohibiting sales to US adversaries, which I will strictly adhere to."

"A contract is one thing; execution is another."

Walker put down his knife and fork, "I can let these sensitive items be 'temporarily unavailable,' and after all regular materials are cleared, they can be 'unexpectedly discovered.' That way, the process speeds up considerably. However, this requires additional... coordination work."

The cafeteria was silent for a few seconds.

On the television, a congressman criticized the Ministry of Defense's budget overrun.

"How much?" Song Heping asked.

Walker quoted a figure: seventy-five thousand US dollars.

Jiang Feng tightened his fists but was gently nudged by Song Heping under the table.

"I need to consider it." Song Heping said.

"Of course." Walker picked up his knife and fork again, "You have twenty-four hours. Decisions need to be made before the counting starts tomorrow."

Dinner concluded in silence.

As they left the cafeteria, Lieutenant Colonel Swift caught up.

"Mr. Song, a word?"

They walked to the smoking area outside the cafeteria.

Swift lit a Marlboro, inhaling deeply.

"Major Walker's words... were quite direct," Swift said, "But he spoke the truth. Without his cooperation, you might never get those sensitive pieces of equipment. Or even if you do, it would be so delayed that the contract becomes invalid."

"So the seventy-five thousand is for him?" Song Heping asked.

Swift smiled, "Walker takes a part, civilian specialists take a part, and the contractors need a share too. Additionally, the soldiers doing the specific counting require a 'hardship fee,' warehouse managers need a 'handling subsidy,' and the transportation coordination officer needs a 'dispatch fee.' Seventy-five thousand is the total; what each gets isn't much in reality."

"And you, Lieutenant Colonel? What's your role?"

"Me?" Swift exhaled smoke, "I'm the coordinator. Ensuring everyone gets their share and the process doesn't stall due to uneven spoils. My compensation... is included in the total."

Song Heping gazed towards the distant base lights.

Night had fully fallen, the searchlights' beams swept over the barbed wire, occasionally a patrolling Hummer passed by.

"What if I refuse?" He asked.

Swift shrugged, "In that case, the counting process will become very slow. Only two warehouses can be opened daily, each requiring more than three repeated inspections. Sensitive equipment will be 'temporarily lost,' needing extra application for search procedures. Civilian specialists will demand proof of origin for all equipment, potentially involving contact with over ten domestic US manufacturers. Contractors will nitpick in status assessment reports, rating ninety percent new equipment as 'repair-needed.' A thirty-day contract period? That's a fantasy! Completing within six months would be considered fast."

Song Heping said, "If the contract cannot be fulfilled on time, you base officers and contractors get nothing either."

"No, we will still get something." Swift corrected, "Contract delay will generate extra storage and management fees, which the receiving party covers. The longer it drags, the more abundant the base maintenance budget becomes. Soldiers can collect their overseas allowances for more months. As for those sensitive items..."

He paused, "There are always other channels to deal with them. The black market, ally support, or simply 'accidental damage.' This system has run for centuries, Mr. Song. It won't change because of one person."

Song Heping was silent for a long time.

Finally, he said, "I need to see the list, the complete list of all the sensitive equipment."

"You'll get it tomorrow morning." Swift threw away the cigarette butt, "Also, about the seventy-five thousand—cash, non-serial old banknotes, in five packages. I'll notify you separately about the delivery method."

He turned to leave, took a few steps and looked back, with a smug expression, said, "Welcome to the real war economy, Mr. Song. Here, corruption is not a flaw but a lubricant."