Chapter 207: The Difference Between Arms Dealers and Soda Sellers

"No, if you have something to discuss, we can do it at the hotel. This is my home, and I don't want to discuss business here," Yuri firmly refused.

Andre, understanding Yuri's stance, didn't push further. After all, they were in the United States, not his home turf. Making a scene could jeopardize their safety.

"Heh, I wanted to talk at the hotel too, but it's no longer safe there. My security team informed me that I was under surveillance the moment I landed. I believe it's safer to discuss things here," Andre explained.

"God, you're causing me trouble, Andre. Even if everyone knows I'm your arms dealer, as long as it's not publicly acknowledged, they can't touch me. But your visit puts our relationship in the spotlight. Not only will the International Small Arms Control Group keep a closer eye on me, but the special forces might start monitoring me after tonight. How do you expect me to do business after this?"

Andre laughed, "Come on, Yuri. We've been working together for ten years. I don't believe your country's special forces aren't aware of our relationship. Besides, the situation is dire. Conflicts are escalating, and my country is facing import and export restrictions. I need someone with your capabilities to help me navigate this crisis."

Initially tempted, Yuri's resolve faltered when he heard that Andre was under surveillance. He turned to go back inside, saying, "I'm sorry, Andre, but the timing isn't right. I can't help you this time."

"No, no, no," Andre quickly blocked Yuri's path. Looking into Yuri's eyes, Andre smiled knowingly and said, "I understand, Yuri. It's normal to want a higher price in times like these."

Andre took a diamond from his pocket and handed it to Yuri. As Yuri looked at the diamond, his heart leaped. It was flawless, the size of two pigeon eggs, weighing at least a hundred carats.

His mind raced, calculating that such a diamond could fetch at least $10 million at auction, or $5 million on the black market. Before Yuri could dwell on it, Andre shrugged and said, "You understand, Yuri. Given the current situation, I'm willing to pay any price to get what I need. Think about it, Yuri. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity with massive profits."

The greed in Yuri's eyes became evident as he weighed the diamond. For profits ten or twenty times the norm, Yuri felt it would be unforgivable not to act. He was tired of the oil and timber business; weapons were his true calling.

Seeing the greed in Yuri's eyes, Andre rejoiced inwardly. He smiled and said, "Welcome back, Yuri. I hope we can meet again soon, Lord of War."

Realizing the opportunity, Yuri smiled and turned to Andre's son, Junior Andre, saying, "I owe you an apology, Junior. I haven't given you Rambo's weapon yet. This time, I'll make sure to get you a brand new M60."

"Really?" Junior Andre rubbed his dark bald head excitedly. "I was about to remind you about the gun. It seems we were thinking the same thing. Thank you, Mr. Orlov."

"Well, we should go shopping now," Andre shook his head, laughing. "Goodbye, Yuri."

After seeing the Andre family off, Yuri returned home, stripped off his clothes, and walked onto his balcony with a cigarette. Standing silently, he smoked a few cigarettes while gazing at Central Park. Afterward, he returned to his study, opened a safe, and took out an unused secure satellite phone to call William.

On the plane, William opened his eyes and answered the phone, "Hi, Yuri, have you made up your mind?"

Yuri Orlov was surprised by William's words, feeling as if William knew what had just happened to him. "Yes, Mr. Devonshire. May I ask how you knew what was happening with me?"

"Heh, Yuri, do you think I would do business with you without investigating you thoroughly? I know everything about you, your parents, your brother, your wife, and your lovely son, Nick. I even know about your encrypted warehouse under the Brooklyn Bridge. Isn't the code your son's birthday, Yuri?"

As William spoke, Yuri felt increasingly tense. By the time William mentioned the warehouse code, his head was buzzing.

Hearing William's question, Yuri stammered, "Yes, yes, Mr. Devonshire."

"Don't worry, Yuri. I'm not interested in what you've done or your money. Your money isn't even a fraction of what's in my bank. Just a heads-up, Yuri: you should change your password. Maybe this deal will test whether your lovely wife is still loyal to you. Lastly, do you need me to deal with Jack Valentine outside your home? Time is of the essence; you must deliver what I need to Seville by the day after tomorrow. The price is 1.2 times the normal rate. What I need is time; do you understand?"

Upon hearing that the price was 1.2 times the normal rate, Yuri's worries vanished. "Understood, Mr. Devonshire. Thank you. I do need Jack Valentine to be out of the way. His presence complicates matters."

"Rest assured, someone will take care of Jack Valentine soon. There's a meeting on combating blood diamond smuggling in South Africa the day after tomorrow. We can meet there. Details on the goods will be sent to you via the dark web."

"No problem. Goodbye, Mr. Devonshire," Yuri hung up the phone, his excitement palpable. With such a lucrative deal, he couldn't care less if William was monitoring him. Besides, William had no reason to threaten his family. Yuri was an arms dealer, not a soda seller, and he could handle such pressure.

After ending the call with Yuri, William called Brian, offering $1 million to keep Jack Valentine occupied.

"No problem, boss. This is a minor task; I'll take care of it. By the way, do you want me to send you the money you left with me in Las Vegas?"

"No need. There will be more matters needing your help. Keep the money for now to avoid transfer hassles."

"God, that's $106 million in cash. Boss, I've been struggling to sleep well, trying to hide that money. Aren't you afraid of losing it?"

"Heh, Brian, I trust you'll take good care of it. In a few years, that money may not even be enough. Brian, we need to think long-term. You'll understand someday. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, boss," Brian hung up, shocked. Spending $100 million in a few years for public relations? What could that possibly entail?

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