Capítulo 663: Chapter 663: A Request Made
The suddenness of my question seemed to leave the commander speechless for a moment. But soon, he looked at me with a bewildered expression.
"You look like you might be of Arab descent. Was my guess wrong?"
"Huh… Don't you understand the concept of courtesy?"
The commander scoffed, clearly unamused and making no effort to hide his displeasure.
"I just wanted to make conversation during our trip. Please don't take my question the wrong way; I'm not prejudiced."
"I am American. I was born in the U.S., raised in the U.S., and I'm an American soldier. Now do you realize how rude your question was?"
It was a sharp response, indicating he often faced such questions or misunderstandings.
"And I'm a Catholic. So don't try to judge me with such foolish assumptions; I'm clearly an American."
Jessica, who had been watching the situation closely, leaned in closer and whispered, covering her mouth with her hand.
"Charlie, that question was really inappropriate. General John Abizaid is American. His grandfather is Lebanese. It's no wonder he reacted that way; there was a lot of talk in Washington when he was first sent to command in Iraq."
I nodded at Jessica's explanation. If he had faced such misunderstandings his entire life, my innocent inquiry would have struck him as rude.
"Commander, I made a grave mistake."
I bowed my head slightly in apology, and surprisingly, he accepted it rather readily.
"It's all right. Just don't make such mistakes with others."
His voice carried a hint of discontent as he turned to face the front again.
A deep silence enveloped the car once more.
It felt too wasteful to continue our journey in silence.
"What do you think, General? When will this war end? Once the new government is established? Or do we need to wipe out all the insurgents first?"
The commander turned his head away from me again at my question.
No, now he completely turned his body to glare at me.
"Who exactly are you?"
Instead of answering my question, he countered with one of his own.
"I don't understand the situation at all. Hussein is under U.S. surveillance. Thanks to tight security, very few in the U.S. even know his exact whereabouts. But you're here to take me to him? And I'm told to bring you without asking any questions? Who are you?"
"As for who I am… It's exactly what General said at the Pentagon."
I replied calmly, and the commander scoffed again. His lack of trust was evident.
"Don't play games with me. You expect a mere Wall Street investor to meet Hussein? You think Washington and the Pentagon would give me orders for that?"
"I'm also the owner of Black Bear. I'm the one overseeing the mercenaries involved in the Iraq War. That should be ample qualification, right?"
The Iraq War was led by the U.S. military, showcasing the power of private military contractors.
Support for private military companies was evident from how various governments were eager to back Black Bear after witnessing its prowess in conflict zones.
Hiring mercenaries for military operations reduces political burdens significantly.
Given this, Black Bear's influence during the Iraq War was not to be underestimated.
They succeeded in challenging operations without being bound by politics and bureaucracy.
Moreover, Black Bear didn't solely provide mercenaries but also handled logistics for the U.S. military.
"I can tell you're not fond of me, but don't ever say I'm unqualified. That would be an insult, General."
This meant that a U.S. military commander benefiting from Black Bear shouldn't be the one to question my qualifications.
As if he understood my meaning, General Abizaid's eyes narrowed.
Sensing the tension escalating, Jessica quickly interjected.
"General, Charlie has done a lot for American interests. I can't share everything because it's classified, but he significantly contributed to stabilizing Afghanistan faster than expected. He's also going to play a role in the reconstruction contracts for Iraq. Right now, he's likely the second most influential person in Iraq after you."
"Afghanistan?"
The mention of Afghanistan piqued the commander's interest.
Jessica didn't miss the opportunity to elaborate.
"Charlie is currently the leader of the Northern Alliance that has taken power in Afghanistan, as well as a backer of the current Afghan President Ahmad Shah Masoud. His influence in the Middle East is substantial."
The commander looked at me with newfound interest. His animosity shifted to curiosity almost instantly.
Rubbing his chin while assessing me, Jessica spoke firmly.
"General, I understand you're upset about the fight that happened yesterday. However, following orders is a soldier's duty. So please set aside your grievances, General."
"Hmm."
The commander cleared his throat slightly, caught off guard by Jessica's straightforwardness.
"Charlie, you've overstepped. Just stop talking and let's quietly move on."
"When will I get another chance to meet the commander? I don't know how long you'll be in this position either. You'll retire eventually, so I thought it would be polite to at least introduce myself."
Jessica shot me a pointed look, as if to say I was meddling. Ah, this isn't working.
"Understood. I won't say another word, so please stop glaring at me."
Fortunately, the awkwardness didn't last long.
Before long, we arrived at the U.S. military base in Baghdad.
General Abizaid exited first, and Jessica and I followed suit.
Manager Ma was already waiting outside.
"Follow me."
The commander led us to his office.
"Aren't we going to see Hussein? Why are we in your office…?"
Before Jessica could finish her question, he opened a concealed door camouflaged into the wall.
"This is the only way to reach him."
Clearly, no one else knew.
To think the only access to Hussein was via the integrated commander's office of U.S. forces in Iraq.
This meant that one would have to dismantle the U.S. forces completely to reach Hussein.
As long as the U.S. didn't face a defeat in the Iraq War, there was no way this place would be breached; it's the safest location around.
We descended through the open door. It didn't seem like a hastily constructed facility by the military.
"Was this facility originally here?"
I asked, and he answered without even looking back.
"One of Hussein's secret bunkers."
A dictator who's trapped in a bunker he built himself.
"I doubt many in the U.S. military even know Hussein is held here."
He didn't respond, but the silence answered enough.
After going down for some time, we finally arrived.
But there wasn't a single guard in sight.
"Is there no one guarding this place?"
The commander clicked his tongue, seemingly uncomfortable with my question.
"Washington gave specific orders. No one is to be nearby except for Miss Jessica when you meet Hussein."
It seemed Washington's politicians wanted to keep their attempts to sway Hussein under wraps.
Especially from the soldiers in Iraq.
The bunker was opulent, starting from the iron doors. It truly reflected Hussein's taste.
We headed to the innermost room.
"Hussein is inside here. Go in and…"
The commander retrieved a pager from his pocket and handed it to Jessica.
"Press it when your conversation is finished. They'll come down when called."
With that, he clamped his mouth shut.
The commander pressed the button on the iron door and entered the password.
A soft mechanical sound echoed, and soon the door swung open. As we entered, the commander gave us a brief look before closing the door behind him.
The heavy iron door closed with a sound that quickly faded.
I glanced back at the closed door before surveying my surroundings.
"I thought it would be a prison, but it's more like a hotel."
I couldn't help but murmur in surprise, and Jessica nodded, seemingly in agreement.
"I know. I didn't expect it to be this nice."
Although labeled a secret bunker, not a corner was left unadorned.
It was lavishly decorated, showcasing Hussein's extravagance.
Sitting in the center of the room was someone with a book covering his face, glancing at us as he lowered it.
"Hmm?"
Upon hearing our voices, the person stared at us, lowering the book.
"Who are you? At first, I thought it was John, but who are you?"
The dictator of Iraq.
The butcher of the Middle East.
Once a hope for Iraq, now a demon bringing hell to the land, Hussein.
The stylish mustache I had seen on TV was gone, replaced by an unkempt beard that hung past his chin.
Though he looked disheveled, his eyes were still sharp.
Instead of answering, I took a seat opposite Hussein. Jessica followed suit, while Manager Ma stood behind us.
"Who are you again?"
He scrutinized Jessica and me with keen interest.
Eventually, his gaze landed on Manager Ma standing behind us.
"From your eyes, you must have killed quite a few people. I see you're here to take my life. Did you find the weapons of mass destruction? Or are you planning to silence me?"
His cynical tone held an undeniable accusation.
I responded to his inquiry with a smile.
"Hello, I'm Kim Mu-hyeok."
"Kim Mu-hyeok?"
"You can call me Charlie. Your English is quite fluent, President Hussein."
"Charlie? Oh, you must be that crazy businessman!"
A crazy businessman? What in the world was he talking about? Before I could voice my confusion, Hussein burst into hearty laughter.
"You certainly won't be bored today."
"How much do you know about me?"
"Owner of Black Bear, friend of the Russian Tsar, and an American ally. You're the first businessman I've met who can walk such a tightrope."
Still, he was a dictator who once ruled Iraq. I couldn't dismiss his knowledge.
"Tightroping is one way to see it. But as you pointed out, I'm a businessman. Businessmen shake hands with enemies if it's profitable. That's why people don't critique Wall Street capitalists for nothing."
"A nice façade. Which businessman holds this kind of military might? Your power exceeds imagination. It's doubtless that it couldn't have happened without American blessing."
Hussein must have been deeply affected by Black Bear's actions, as his tone was sharper.
"The mercenary business has been around for thousands of years in both East and West. What makes it different now?"
Hussein shrugged instead of replying.
He then closed the book and placed it on the table.
"So, businessman, why did you come to see me? To persuade me? If you want me to call for a ceasefire with the insurgents, I won't say a word."
"Well, I've been asked for such a favor. But I know that you would find such a request insulting. So I won't make that ask."
"Charlie."
Jessica called my name softly from the side.
I ignored her and continued talking.
"This person beside me is an employee of the U.S. Department of Homeland Security. She was assigned to observe our conversation by the Americans."
Only then did Hussein shift his gaze to Jessica.
He regarded her for a moment before letting out a small laugh.
"Ambition floods your eyes. I see your desire for power and to climb the social ladder… but I wonder about your capabilities."
His observation of people was quite discerning.
As a dictator, he must have constantly judged who was beneficial to him or detrimental.
Thus, it's natural for him to develop that judgment.
Eventually losing interest in Jessica, he turned back to me and asked.
"So, the U.S. has given you their blessing. Now tell me the reason you came to see me. I'm just an old man who has lost power—why come looking for me?"
"I came to make a request."
"Even after seeing me like this, you dare to say that? I'm a man waiting to die here. Do you really think I could grant you a favor?"
"It's a small request. It's not complicated."
Hussein stroked his unruly beard while studying me.
There was now a hint of curiosity in his eyes towards me.
"Go on, say it. I'm listening."
"Currently, civilians are being held hostage in Iraq. They have made the withdrawal of South Korean troops a condition for their release. But that's a condition we cannot accept."
I elaborated on the current situation for a while.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because you can convince them."
Hussein suddenly burst into laughter.
He laughed for a while before mockingly addressing me with a smile.
"Hey, businessman. Even if I could, why would I do that for you? Korea is just as guilty of invading Iraq as the U.S. and UK."
To Hussein, the U.S., UK, and Korea were all invaders in Iraq.
"Because that's the only way to save your daughter, Mr. President. I know she's hiding with the help of the Jordanian royal family. Your two sons are already dead—do you intend to kill the last living daughter as well?"
The smile on Hussein's face vanished in an instant.
The bargaining chip I brought was the life of Hussein's daughter, Raghad Hussein.
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