Kapitel 665: Chapter 665: I Will Buy the Entire Collection
I will send mercenaries from Black Bear to protect your family.
It's absurd for Black Bear, which plays a crucial role in invading Iraq, to worry about protecting their own families.
Hussein squinted, clearly finding my words unbelievable.
"Do you realize how contradictory that is? To trust the Black Bear, which invaded my country, with the safety of my family?"
I passed my notebook to Manager Ma and responded to his remark.
"Black Bear is a mercenary group. They'll protect anyone as long as they get paid. It's uncertain if they'll agree to a contract, though."
"Even if it means fighting against the U.S.?"
"If the person contracted with Black Bear is an enemy of the U.S., then yes, they would."
"Charlie."
Jessica urgently tried to stop me, but I glanced at her and continued.
"Well, they still won't usually engage the U.S. Protecting the President's family isn't a good enough reason for them to fight against America. The U.S. has no need to kill your family, nor any reason to. However, it's different for other countries. You have too many enemies. Isn't it likely they'll target your family? Therefore, you should consider threats from other nations, not just the U.S."
As Hussein's trial continues, those defending him will start to die off one by one. Assassination attempts against him will also increase.
Currently, he is under U.S. protection, but once the military government ends and power is transferred to a transitional government, then the real problems will begin.
Hussein, having undergone legal procedures, will be imprisoned in a new prison established by the new government.
"Hmm."
Hussein stroked his beard, looking at Jessica.
"Can my American friend leave and we talk privately?"
"No, that won't work. My presence is what makes this visit between Charlie and you possible. If I leave, the U.S. Military will come down here."
Before I could respond, Jessica firmly interjected.
I was left with no choice but to shrug at Hussein.
"How much do you trust that guy?"
"Trust him? I don't trust anyone but myself. Oh, except for the guy behind me."
"Then we'll have to end today's conversation here. I have nothing more to say in the presence of an American."
Hussein folded his arms and sank into the sofa, his demeanor unyielding.
"I never expected our thoughts to align, Mr. President."
However, I shared his sentiment. I discreetly signaled Manager Ma.
The conversation we were about to have was something Jessica shouldn't hear.
Manager Ma swiftly struck Jessica's neck, rendering her unconscious.
As she collapsed, she shot me a resentful glance. Sorry, but I wasn't scared at all.
"Oh? Are you alright?"
Hussein's eyes widened in amazement at the sudden move.
For a moment, he relaxed his arms and leaned toward the table. I followed suite.
"There's no choice. What we discuss now is the most important part. It's time I explain why I came to see you."
"So everything you said so far was just a diversion?"
"No, the hostage situation is crucial. If the President didn't help, there would have been no way to reduce the threat to his family."
I chuckled at Hussein's piercing gaze, which seemed to accuse me of being vile.
The reason I came to see Hussein was…
"You know the collection that's commonly referred to as Hussein's Collection? Where are all those works of art and artifacts you possess?"
Iraq is an archaeologically significant country.
It's the land filled with relics from Mesopotamia, the first civilization of humanity.
Given that he ruled Iraq with an iron fist for decades, he wouldn't have failed to collect such artifacts.
Also, after his execution, no one could find the numerous artworks and artifacts he had gathered from around the world.
"They were in the presidential palace. But they were all burned to ashes when the U.S. fired missiles. Why are you interested in finding them now?"
"If you leave them be, you'll never find them. Do you think your family could ever secure them? No. You'll never find them since you can't even get into Iraq. And if you somehow got into Iraq, you know very well what might happen to you, right?"
Hussein glared at me, seemingly displeased that I didn't counter his statement.
"So you could recover them? But you'd be suspected of their origin."
"You can't just sell them above board. There's a huge demand for them underground. Especially from Middle Eastern countries. The Saudi royal family and the UAE royal family will be eyeing them greedily. Even now, artifacts from Iraq are being smuggled out to the U.S., Japan, and various other countries."
War always goes hand-in-hand with plunder. This applies to the wars waged by the U.S., which acts as the world's police.
After the war, thousands of artifacts in Iraq were flowing into the U.S.
Not just from the U.S., but treasure hunters and tomb raiders from around the globe were flocking to Iraq.
If they managed to find proper items, they wouldn't miss the chance to become rich.
Once stability is achieved, archaeologists from around the world will also start coming to Iraq to protect the artifacts.
For a while, the field of archaeology and the black market will be buzzing.
But the true treasure lies in the artifacts collected by the dictator Hussein.
"Let's say they exist. Why should they be handed over to you?"
"I'll organize the deal and share the profits with your family. If left alone, the artifacts will vanish, but through me, you'll be able to sell them for their true worth. Otherwise, I'll buy the entire collection myself."
Price wasn't important.
What mattered was how the artifacts and artworks could be utilized in various ways.
Hussein's collection held value that money couldn't buy.
If done correctly, these artifacts could forge connections with several Middle Eastern countries.
"You're quite an interesting person, aren't you?"
"I tend to hear that a lot."
Hussein, who had paused to ponder, finally spoke up.
"I hope my family won't face any difficulties. I wouldn't ask you to protect them, but I do wish for a comfortable life for them."
"How much would that take? In exchange for handing over the collection, I mean."
Hussein sighed deeply, leaning back on the sofa.
After a long pause, he met my gaze directly.
"If you take everything, can you ensure my wives and daughters get their fair share?"
"You want me to manage the collection and give money to your family in return? Is that why you asked that friend to leave?"
Hussein nodded.
If a dictator's family receives a huge sum of money, it would certainly be frowned upon by the U.S., politically and socially.
He continued speaking.
"I already have no reason to survive. Do you know that? The U.S. even suggested they would release me. They wanted me to seek asylum in another country, allowing me and my family to live together. They also offered to guarantee my safety."
While the U.S. tried to seduce Hussein, I had no idea what kind of offer they made.
Only rumors circulated that they had negotiated not executing him if he made a speech urging the insurgents to cease.
But to hear they fully intended to release him, offer asylum in a third country, and even guarantee his safety was shocking.
"I've already lost all my power. What's the point of living? I just want to speak my mind before I die. But my surviving family should live well too, shouldn't they? That's the lingering attachment I had. Yet you coincidentally came to me at just the right time."
What a coincidence. My visit to Iraq came down to a series of unexpected events that no one could have predicted.
"Once I learned your identity, I saw it as an opportunity. I don't know much about you, but I understood from scant information that you would team up with anyone if it brought you profit."
"Exactly. I don't know the specifics of your collection, but if it exists, I believe it's worth the risk to obtain it."
It's only natural that the majority of Hussein's collection consists of items that money can't buy.
"Alright. So, will you sign a contract with me?"
"Of course. Just name the amount."
"200 million dollars. Can you prepare 200 million in untraceable cash?"
200 million dollars, an unexpectedly exorbitant figure that Hussein mentioned.
"Are you saying the collection is worth more than that?"
"The value of the collection is determined by you, not me. The worth of art is always subjective."
"Then could you name a few representative pieces I'd know among the collection?"
Hussein nodded and started to tell me about several works.
"…Was that with the President?"
I gasped, taken aback.
To find out that the current owner of long-lost artworks was Hussein himself was astonishing.
Given they had been traded a long time ago, I couldn't know their current market value, but should they surface in the market, the price would be astronomical.
"What do you think? They must be worth around 200 million, right?"
"That's enough."
"Then may I have my notebook and pen back?"
I received back the notebook and pen I had lent to Manager Ma.
Hussein tore a piece of paper, placing it on his palm and began to write something.
He did this to avoid leaving traces on the notebook or table.
"Can I trust you?"
"Do I have any other choice? If I hand it to the U.S., will they really give the sales money to your family? Or will they pass it on to whoever seizes power next?"
Hussein's known and hidden assets would belong to the new government as soon as they found them.
Hussein smiled slyly as he was well aware of this.
"I have never once played around when making a deal until now."
"Okay. I believe in my eyes."
He moved his pen again. In no time, having apparently finished, he handed me the torn paper and the notebook.
"It's about 50 kilometers north of Tikrit. With this much information, you should be able to find it, right?"
The paper he provided had numbers written on it. Judging by his words, it seemed to be the coordinates of where his collection was hidden.
Tikrit was Hussein's place of birth and political base.
Since he himself was caught hiding in Tikrit, it's unlikely that it was a lie.
"If you accurately locate the position I provided, you should be able to find it without much difficulty."
I carefully folded the paper and tucked it away, nodding lightly.
"Thank you."
As he said, finding it wouldn't be hard if I knew its location.
"How do you plan to deliver the 200 million dollars to your family? Please explain it to me."
"I'll split it among several accounts. I'll ensure it's done in a way that's absolutely untraceable, so don't worry too much."
"Good. I'll rely solely on you. Oh, and when you contact that friend of yours, make sure to mention my name. That way, he'll facilitate negotiations in the manner you desire."
He was referring to the contact who worked for the Red Crescent.
"Does he know the location?"
"No, the only reason he's alive is because he's been fulfilling his role as a contact. That's also why he's trusted."
"Understood. Thank you for your help. The money will be delivered to your family after I find the collection."
Hussein nodded, pulling out a cigar to light again.
A moment of silence engulfed the room.
This dictator, half-dressed, smoked a cigar in an outrageously opulent room.
Suddenly, I felt an urge to teach him a lesson.
"Do you know why the U.S. decided to oust you?"
Hussein exhaled smoke and replied.
"Wasn't it because I mocked the terrorist events in the U.S.? And they were greedy for our oil?"
"No."
At my firm response, he raised an eyebrow.
"Then what's the reason?"
"It's because you challenged the dollar's hegemony."
"…What?"
"If they were after oil, they would have ousted you back in the 1990s, during the Gulf War."
The Gulf War, with its clear justification, was the perfect time to depose Hussein.
Despite that, the U.S. did not remove him, as having him as the ruler of Iraq was more beneficial for them.
"You have continuously tried to change oil transactions from dollars to euros. In fact, you even accepted payments in euros."
Petrodollar.
While it refers to the dollars earned from selling oil, it also denotes the current system where oil can primarily be paid for with dollars.
The U.S. maintains its value as the world's reserve currency thanks to petrodollars.
Even after abandoning the gold standard, the dollar retained its status due to petrodollars.
"That's the reason the U.S. decided to depose the dictator known as Hussein in Iraq. All under the pretense of nonexistent weapons of mass destruction."
Hussein fell silent, ashes dropping from the cigar he held between his fingers.
As he stared at me blankly, I offered a farewell.
"I'll take my leave now. It was nice meeting you, President Hussein."
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein