"What I mean is, since your plan states that the aircraft must be destroyed and scrapped, what if I am willing to purchase those dismantled 'scraps'?"
There was a profound meaning in Song Heping's eyes.
"What do you mean?" Musfata had a vague idea of what Song Heping meant, but wasn't sure if that was actually his intention.
Song Heping said, "There are many ways to destroy it, such as dismantling the aircraft into parts and shells; it still counts as dismantled, doesn't it?"
Musfata understood now.
He knew exactly what Song Heping meant.
However, he was still evaluating the feasibility of this idea.
"Mr. Song, if you want to avoid liability, it has to be dismantled very thoroughly," he tentatively reminded Song Heping.
Song Heping spread his hands, "Thoroughly dismantled can be done in various ways, such as having it broken down into hundreds of parts and then shipping it as scrap metal through different companies to different countries, with all contracts and documents perfectly in order. Do you think that would work to avoid liability?"
Musfata's brows furrowed slightly. He looked at Song Heping, then his gaze drifted to Yusuf standing nearby.
After a long while, he posed a question, "Mr. Song, how much would you pay for one Sukhoi SU-24?"
"My budget is 500,000 US dollars."
Song Heping had initially budgeted one million per aircraft, but since they were now dismantling, naturally he had to account for the cost of assembling the team.
He had decided to buy the aircraft in pieces and have them reassembled at their base in Venezuela by technicians.
After all, he could just hire a Russian team to come over, and they could finish the job within days.
"500,000?" Musfata was somewhat disappointed; his face dimmed and became more business-like again, "That's too cheap."
Song Heping said, "I'm buying scrap metal, of course it's cheap. A higher price would be unreasonable. After all, I can only claim to be selling these parts to other countries that have SU-24 aircraft for spare parts use. However, for each plane, I'll add an extra one million US dollars in commission."
This last statement truly hit home for Musfata.
His eyes reignited, his whole persona revitalized, and a hint of joy returned to his face.
"Ah... I see..."
He sat back in the sofa, seemingly deep in thought once more.
After a while, he suddenly stood up and said to Song Heping, "Mr. Song, from now on you should contact Yusuf. He will arrange everything. As for me here..."
He revealed a sly smile.
"Let's pretend we never had this conversation."
Finishing his statement, he turned to Yusuf, "Please, see Mr. Song out. I still have other matters to attend to."
Upon leaving Musfata's office, Song Heping felt reassured.
"Yusuf, your minister is a real sly fox," he commented.
The implication was that Yusuf should remind the minister that although he agreed with the plan, he didn't want to show it publicly or formally endorse it.
Essentially, it was Yusuf's responsibility to handle things as he saw fit.
This was an instance of turning a blind eye.
"Hmph!" Yusuf said somewhat discontentedly, "He gets the bigger share of the money, and I'm left to carry the burden!"
Song Heping patted his shoulder, "Don't worry. You aren't planning to retire here anyway. Work for a few years and then emigrate to enjoy life in another country."
Yusuf's mind drifted to the numbers in his overseas bank account, which calmed him significantly.
"Right, disassembling an aircraft is a technical job; it requires professionals to do it without damaging the parts."
Song Heping said, "Don't worry, first take me to see the aircraft. I want two in good condition. As for the technicians, I'll have everything arranged within a week. They will come to dismantle the aircraft, and I'll handle all the arrangements. You just relax and count the money."
Yusuf smiled, "Oh, doing business with you, brother, is always a pleasure! By the way, come to my house tonight. You've been away from Illiguo so long, and our circle of friends has been asking about you. Many times people have asked where you went, and I didn't know what to say... By the way, where have you been lately?"
"I went to Venezuela, bought some land. I'm planning to build a mercenary training school. Once it's up, you can go there for vacation and play with guns."
"Let's skip the guns; if I ever leave Illiguo, I don't ever want to see a gun in my life."
"If you retire, you could move to Venezuela. I've got you covered there; it's very safe..."
"Really?"
"Really!"
After leaving the Republic Palace, the two got into Song Heping's car and headed to the makeshift airport where they had last purchased the SA-9.
The airport was the same as ever, guarded by the same few soldiers, who all smiled brightly and bowed in welcome upon seeing Song Heping arrive.
"Good day, Mr. Song, we haven't seen you in a long time."
"What brings Mr. Song here today?"
As the guard opened the gate, he showered Song Heping with various greetings from inside the car.
Heping had visited a few times during the last missile purchase, each time rewarding the guards handsomely, more than their monthly salary.
Seeing the generous Mr. Song again, the guards knew something good was to arrive. They were eager to finalize any deal if the boss took an interest in something at the makeshift airport, hopeful for a nice side benefit.
The airport housed two Su-25s and three Su-24s.
The conditions of the three Su-24s were actually fairly decent. They were covered in tarpaulins and well maintained upon inspection, though the state of the engines, among other things, was unknown.