"Shh."

Tang Dao held Robert's shoulders, winked, turned back and smiled apologetically at the two Goulds in the room, "Sorry, I have something to do, please wait a moment."

Gould quickly stood up and said that he should be busy first.

Tang Dao nodded, gently closed the door, motioned for Robert to follow him, walked to an open space at the airport, took out a cigarette and handed it to him, pulled off his pants, squatted down in the corner, tilted his head, and lit it.

He took a puff of a cigarette and felt much refreshed. He squinted his eyes and said, "Tell Medvedchuk that I want all the weapons that can be sold, as long as you agree to provide me with the supply.

, I will promise to send a plane full of daily necessities every two weeks. The specific amount depends on the value of the weapons he provides. The second thing is to ask him to help me contact some soldiers who want to come overseas to prospect for gold. I

I will sign a contract with them and provide special subsidies for special talents. As long as he helps me find one person, I will pay him a reward of 200 US dollars and tell him that what I want is someone who can fight, not be used as fertilizer."

This is what Tang Dao cares about most.

Goods and people!

As long as they can cooperate together, it will be a big deal for Tang Dao in the future after the disintegration of the Soviet Union. Moreover, after the millennium, two countries will be called arms black holes. One is the United States, especially during the war in Afghanistan.

There is a severe shortage of soldiers, so many gangsters are recruited in the country, and they will sell the weapons and ammunition they received! Excuse: battlefield losses, which leaves the United States with at least more than 50 million weapons. Although most of them are registered, there are still some

then circulated to Mexico next door,

The other one is Ukraine.

Uh... let's put it this way, from time to time there will be a big explosion in the arsenal, and then some missiles will appear on the black market in Europe for no reason, and then be circulated to the Middle East.

The global village is so straightforward.

With money, your next door neighbor can buy everything you want.

Same world, same kind of buyers.

Similarly, employees are also very important. Since the 1990s, the PMC industry has been growing rapidly. Especially around 1998, it has mushroomed. There are more than 7,000 registered companies in Laomaozi alone. In Africa, from Iraq

The EO founded by Bing Barrow had been established in South Africa in 1989. He was once the second in command of the 32nd Battalion Air Reconnaissance Team in South Africa and an employee of the National Cooperation Bureau (CCB). He was later fired and took his colleagues and

Comrades formed this security company.

Behind the scenes is Strategic Resources Co., Ltd. (SRC). With its capital injection, this knight in chess (their LOGO) has begun to exert its strength. They have already been seen on the battlefield in Somalia in 1990, and even

In the current civil war in Sierra Leone, they are all helping the government forces. Almost all EO employees have military service experience, and they are snowballing like a snowball.

Tang Dao felt a thousand pounds pressing on him.

Compared with these people who were born in Rome, he himself was still on the road to Rome.

But who can guarantee that there will be no chance?

No one can bother themselves with making US dollars.

Robert wrote down everything Tang Dao said, raised his head, and waited for him to continue.

"You tell him that he is only allowed to cooperate with me. This cannot be changed. Otherwise, I can find another partner."

"I'll tell him." Robert nodded.

Tang Dao pinched the cigarette butt on his heel, put out the fire, pressed it under the stone, and stood up. After squatting for a long time, his legs and feet were numb. He stamped on the spot and said, "Go and call John Che over.

, I have some things to give to him."

Robert responded, took off the cigarette from his ear, held it in his mouth and called for someone. After Tang Dao waited there for a few minutes, he saw John running over with a gun on his back, "Boss."

"You organize people to transport the weapons and equipment there in stages. You are responsible for the safety during this period. I will tell General Aidid to send soldiers to help us." Tang Dao said as he walked with his hands behind his back, his eyes raised, and he pointed at the office.

, "There is a dog-headed mercenary group upstairs. You will be responsible for it. I have already made an agreement with him."

John was not good at words and just nodded.

When he walked back to the office and opened the door, Tang Dao smiled at him and said, "Sorry, something happened. This is John Cansburg, and this is Mr. Gould."

"Hello, sir."

The two shook hands with each other.

"Just follow John for the time being. I will tell you anything else."

"Yes, boss." Gould changed his words quickly. After chatting for a few more words, he followed John out of the door.

With these experienced mercenaries joining us, coupled with the advantages of weapons, there shouldn't be any unscrupulous people who would dare to raise an eyebrow.

He opened the drawer, picked up a rolled map from inside, spread it out, and saw a lot of dense writing on it.

This is a map of the distribution of forces around Somalia. Mogadishu is clearly marked with Aidid, while important cities such as Baidabo, Beledweyne, Hobia, and Galkayo are marked with other names or

Organizations, these are local forces.

This form cost Tang Dao 170,000 US dollars!

Bought from a Swiss intelligence dealer.

The real price is really shady, but Tang Dao still thinks it's a good deal. Such information will definitely allow him to take the initiative, and the merchant will have to take the initiative to find a buyer.

"Beledwen City? Luke Malory?" Tang Dao traced his fingers on the map, and finally settled on a place. He was fighting three parties and suffered repeated defeats, which made him almost lose his last hope.

Stronghold, the war has reached its peak.

At this time, shouldn’t you be the savior yourself?

He is not delivering weapons, but delivering peace for the sake of those poor Somali citizens.

How should I sell it at this time?

AK47…$1500?

NSV machine gun...$1.2 million?

I'm not doing this for money, it's better to earn less.

…

San Francisco, USA.

Following the flow of people at the airport, Pierce walked out, wearing a pair of sunglasses, a black handbag slung over his shoulder, chewing gum in his mouth, and wearing casual clothes. He looked exactly like the two beggars he had seen before.

He took a deep breath and roared loudly when the tourists looked at him as idiots.

He is finally back!

This is his hometown.

"Sir, what are you doing?" The security guard came over at this time, looked at him with a very unkind expression, and touched the baton on his waist.

"Sorry, I just haven't been back to San Francisco in a long time. I love it here." Pierce said with a smile.

The security guard's face softened and he nodded, "I love San Francisco too, but you'd better calm down, otherwise, those police officers will come to find you and go to jail to take a good look at this city."

Pierce smiled, patted his shoulder, carried his bag, hummed the Beatles' classic music "Yesterday", waved his fist and disappeared into the crowd.

The security guard tipped his hat with his baton and showed a knowing smile on his face.

Pierce walked to the taxi stand, lined up to get in, and opened the door. As soon as he got in, he was startled to see a "mountain" sitting on the driver's seat. He took a closer look and saw that it was a man over 190 centimeters tall.

Then there was a black man dressed in body shape, wearing a peaked cap, and wearing a cardin shirt embroidered with Mickey Mouse, with a sentence embroidered on his arm: "Don't mess with with your ass! (Don't mess with me, watch your butt)

"

He couldn't help but whistle and said in admiration, "Man, you are so strong."

The black man raised his eyes, looked at him through the reflector, and asked in a low voice, "Where are you going?"

"Go to the Tenderloin!"

The black man originally stretched out his hand to cover the "Passenger" sign, but paused, turned around and asked, "Sir, can you afford the fare?"
Chapter completed!