Once Tony Stark returned in two months and announced the closure of the weapons division, he could make even more. And once Tony revealed his identity as Iron Man, he could make another fortune. At the thought, Wenwu's mood instantly lifted.
"By the way, how is the search for Ulysses Klaue going?" Wenwu asked.
"My lord, some of our operations have dealings with Ulysses Klaue, so finding his base was easy. But he isn't there at the moment. His men said he had important business and might not be back for a few days," Ching-Lin reported in a grave voice.
"I see. Once you find him in a few days, I'll go and meet him personally. Remember, do not alert him under any circumstances."
After giving those instructions, Wenwu summoned Razor Fist and told him to continue expanding the base and build a military production line.
"One more thing, Ching-Lin. Use the evidence of Obadiah Stane's collusion with Raza to blackmail him into selling us more weapons at a low price, especially Jericho Missiles."
"Also, send someone to contact the person we're backing in Tsarist Russia and see if we can get a few 'mushroom bombs,'" Wenwu continued.
He was determined to get mushroom bombs, at least one if nothing else. If anyone pushed him too far, he would use one to deter them. Of course, he only meant to use it as a deterrent, but if he really were pushed too far, he might secretly plant one on someone's head.
Stark Industries, the president's office.
Outside the window lay the bustling nightscape of Los Angeles, but the atmosphere inside the office was colder than the night outside.
Smack!
A thick document envelope was slammed onto the broad mahogany desk, sending high-resolution photographs and encrypted transaction records spilling across the floor.
Obadiah Stane's face, usually adorned with a hypocritical smile, was now contorted.
He stared fixedly at a photograph of himself meeting Raza, a Ten Rings leader, in secret in Afghanistan. His chest heaved violently, like a beast being strangled.
"Ten Rings...!"
Obadiah growled through clenched teeth, veins bulging on his forehead.
He had never imagined that his carefully planned assassination would not only fail to kill Tony Stark in Afghanistan, but also turn him into a cash cow for those damned terrorists.
Even more suffocating was the fact that the Ten Rings were blackmailing him with evidence of his attempt to assassinate Tony!
"Mr. Obadiah!"
A middle-aged man in a crisp suit sat before his desk and said calmly, "Our leader said that if this evidence appeared on the FBI's desk tomorrow morning, you probably wouldn't even get a chance to explain yourself."
Ching-Lin had not come in person, instead sending his prized disciple Hamid, the Ten Rings' head of intelligence and external negotiations.
He was also one of Wenwu's core trusted subordinates,
a top-tier, versatile talent from the Middle East who traveled between countries, skilled in both intelligence operations and business and capital negotiations.
No one could have been more suited to meeting Obadiah this time!
"What do you want?" Obadiah jerked his head up and fixed Hamid with a sinister stare.
"Not much."
Hamid smiled faintly. "One billion dollars, plus ten combat units' worth of Jericho Missiles, sold to us at thirty percent of cost. In exchange, this evidence will disappear forever."
"One billion?! Thirty percent?!"
Obadiah sprang to his feet, both hands braced on the desk as if he meant to crush it. "This is robbery!!"
"Mr. Obadiah, please mind your attitude."
Hamid calmly adjusted his cuffs. "Surely you understand what will happen to you if this evidence comes to light?"
Those words were like a sharp knife, striking precisely at Obadiah's most vulnerable nerve.
If the evidence came to light, everything he had would come to nothing.
"Fine... very well!"
Obadiah took a deep breath and forced down his anger. The muscles in his face twitched as he squeezed out a smile uglier than a grimace. "Tell your leader I'll have the money and missiles ready. But I want to meet him. I want to speak to him personally."
"Our leader said you weren't qualified."
Hamid smiled faintly, his tone tinged with disdain.
"You...!"
Obadiah was furious, but then he suppressed his anger. "One billion dollars is manageable. I can scrape that together, but ten sets of Jericho Missiles are too many. I can give you eight at most!"
Obadiah finally said through gritted teeth.
The Jericho was a short-range cluster ballistic missile, not a cruise missile. Its distinguishing feature was that it split into multiple submunitions in the air, inflicting casualties over a wide area with tremendous destructive power. The military scrutinized it very closely!
"I'm only the executive director, the second-in-command, not the boss. Tony is the major shareholder. I can't ship large quantities without restraint. If I ship too many, the auditors and the military will find out. The risk is too high. Eight sets are my limit!"
After a moment's silence, Hamid nodded, bowed slightly, and turned toward the door. "We'll send someone to collect the goods in three days. I hope you won't disappoint us, Mr. Obadiah."
"Wait!"
Obadiah suddenly called out.
"Yes, Mr. Obadiah?"
Hamid turned and looked at him with a smile.
"Is Tony Stark really dead?"
Obadiah stared into Hamid's eyes and asked, enunciating every word.
"He's dead!"
With that, Hamid walked out of the office.
After Hamid left, Obadiah grabbed the crystal ashtray on his desk and hurled it at the door.
Bang!
The ashtray shattered against the doorframe.
Deathly silence returned to the office.
Obadiah slumped into his chair, covering his face with both hands, his shoulders trembling slightly.
One billion dollars, plus those missiles... that had nearly drained all the funds he could move in secret.
But he had no choice. He could not lose control of Stark Industries.
"Tony Stark... are you really dead?"
He muttered to himself, a trace of doubt flashing in his eyes. Although Hamid had said Tony was dead, he had a faint sense of foreboding!
Obadiah walked to the window and looked down at the brilliantly lit city, a cold smile curling his lips.
"Ten Rings... very well. Once I control Stark Industries, I'll show you what real hell is."
Meanwhile, thousands of kilometers away at Salia Base, Wenwu held a glass of red wine as he listened to Ching-Lin's report, an amused smile on his lips.
"It seems Obadiah had to grit his teeth and swallow it."
Three days later, Hamid obtained the billion dollars and eight sets of Jericho Missiles without difficulty. Nothing unexpected happened during the process.
Wenwu's face lit up when he heard the news.
Now that he had complete Jericho Missiles, he could have Ivan copy them in the future!
And with Arc Energy, they could make missiles with a longer range and even greater power!