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Getting a Technology System in Modern Day-Novel

Chapter 283 Resources, Human and Otherwise
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Chapter 283 Resources, Human and Otherwise

Trump was a bit confused and surprised at the target mentioned by Aubrey. He had never thought of Eden or Esparia being the new targets. The only thing he knew about them was that they were some backwards shitholes that didn't even have golf courses!.

The silence continued for quite a while as the two Morgans in the room left Trump to digest the information in silence.

"Why them?" he asked after the long silence.

"Because they have a massive amount of untapped resources, so we stand to benefit the most from those. Plus, they're absolutely weak and the investment won't be that high," Aubrey answered. He absolutely wouldn't tell Trump his actual reason for choosing the tiny island nations. "Are you opposed?" he asked when he saw the look on Trump's face.

"No, I don't really care. I don't care about the reason or how we do things. As long as I can make America great again, I'll support your agenda with all my power when I win the election," he proclaimed, then laughed. "Besides, they don't even have golf courses!".

"Good. We've already finished the preparations on our end, so all you have to worry about is campaigning and winning the support of the American people... or at least their votes," Aubrey said, then deftly maneuvered the conversation onto other topics.

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...

"See you later," Trump told George, who had escorted him to the door where his car was waiting for him.

"I hope it's in the Oval Office," George joked. Both men smiled at each other as Trump got into the car he had arrived in.

The car left the compound after driving for ten minutes straight, and after a few more minutes, the smile on Trump's face disappeared, and he moved his mouth into a weird position. It was like his face had become stiff from having to constantly maintain an expression that he wasn't used to making for a long period of time.

"They really think they can control me," he said to himself. He wasn't worried about his driver overhearing him, as the man's family lived in Trump Tower. The minute he betrayed his master, only one end lay in store for all of them: death.

Just as he was about to work himself into a swearing fit to vent the anger he had pent up from being insulted by that high-horse asshole, his thoughts were interrupted by a phone call. He couldn't afford to ignore it, either, as it came on his most important burner phone.

"How'd the meeting go?" asked the voice on the other side of the call.

"It went well. And as you said, when I tried poking at their pride, they seemed very upset. I guess they can't handle being belittled," he said in a mocking tone. His little jab had been an intentional test to see just how much he could get away with; apparently, the answer was "not much".

"It was within our range of expectation based on their course of action. Ever since Aubrey became their family head, we've been profiling him. And up until now, our profile has almost never been wrong," said the voice. The pride they felt in that accomplishment allowed a slight accent to leak through. Even though their English was very fluent, it was obvious that they hadn't been raised in America.

"How about you give me a copy for my use to solicit the most support I can get from them? That way, you won't have to risk anything by personally making moves," Trump said.

"Let me remind you of one thing: there are things you can ask for, and things you cannot ask for. Until you win the election, your usefulness to us is... limited." The voice on the phone didn't even have the slightest fluctuation in its tone. It was apparent that the speaker was used to Trump's shenanigans and constant benefit-seeking behavior.

"Sure, but make sure you write down everything I want from you, because when I win, I don't want to have to ask again," Trump replied. If there was one thing he could be sure of, it was that he was always a winner.

"Don't worry."

The phone call was abruptly terminated.

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Trump lowered phone from his ear said nothing, just looked at it with the same expression he'd had after leaving the Morgan family's compound. 'Everyone has a use, and the moment their usefulness ends their fate is to be abandoned. Useless people are nothing but waste,' he thought.

He put the phone back in his pocket and stared out the tinted window of his car. His mind was in overdrive, but nobody knew what he was thinking; however, judging from the look on his face, it must have been pleasant thoughts.

...

In the Kremlin.

Vladimir was walking through the heavily guarded area, carrying a briefcase and wearing a neat, bespoke suit. He strode with measured, confident strides while maintaining a relaxed expression on his face. There was no nervousness at all to be seen anywhere in the man, despite being on his way to meet the president to brief him on the results of his latest mission.

When he neared the office, the soldier guarding the door wasted no time and automatically opened it without him even asking. Apparently, he was expected and had been given permission to directly enter.

"Good evening, sirs," he greeted in Russian as he put the briefcase on the table. He opened it, pulled out some documents, and handed them out to everyone in the room. "We've discovered that the Americans and most of the west are in the process of increasing their activity in Ukraine. Other than the non-combat support they've been providing, we expect them to soon send a detachment of their green berets to train their army.

"Along with them will come weapons, so they don't end up crumbling like when we took back Crimea. They'll use Ukraine as a shield against us...." Vladimir began presenting the findings of his recent mission to the people in the room. His professionalism, eloquence, and understanding of the situation impressed the people sitting at the conference table listening to his report. All of his claims were backed up by evidence, whether conclusive or circumstantial, and he even picked up on a few things that many others would have missed if they had been the ones assigned to the mission.