Chapter 2 Big Business

Daniel slammed the phone down, eyebrows furrowed. The caller had dropped his nickname but kept their identity under wraps.

Not even thirty seconds later, the phone buzzed again.

This time, the voice on the other end was a bit more chill. "Hey, don't hang up. George Davis gave me your number. Said you got the good stuff."

Daniel's brain clicked. This had to be some rich kid from an Afrilon investor family, looking to score some guns for kicks in the wild west of Afrilon.

Totally normal. In Afrilon, if you're from a place where guns are legal, buying and messing around with them is no biggie.

But getting a gun permit in Sudania? That's a whole different ball game. Down south in Sudania, it's not a huge deal, but the UN's got a ban on weapon deals there. Plenty of guns around, but they're so ancient no one dares to use them.

Plus, security gigs are a cash cow for the Sudania military, but the hired muscle is usually sketchy, so Daniel's business was always booming.

Those gutsy, loaded mining bosses or factory investors, both local and foreign, usually snag guns to mess around with on-site, maybe even go hunting for fun. As long as they don't bag any protected critters, no one bats an eye.

Back home or in any law-abiding place, Daniel would've blocked the caller and changed his number in a heartbeat.

But in Afrilon? Daniel wasn't sweating it.

And the caller dropped an old client's name, which was easy to check out.

Daniel held the phone, silent, letting the caller squirm for a good half-minute before finally saying, "Hang tight."

He hung up and shot a message to 'George.'

A few minutes later, George hit him back, vouching for the caller.

With the green light, Daniel strolled into his now cool house, chugged a big glass of ice water, chilled for a few minutes, and then dialed the caller back.

The caller picked up, buzzing with excitement, "Jackal, George said you can hook me up with guns. My family’s got a gold mine in southern Sudania, and they want me to keep an eye on it. Security's a joke down there, so I need some firepower."

Daniel nodded, "Just so you know, my guns ain't cheap, and if things go south, that's on you."

"No sweat, I get it. As long as the gear's solid, cash ain't a problem. Any heat's on me."

Daniel chuckled at the caller's bravado, "Heading to that hellhole in southern Sudania, you'd be nuts not to pack some heat.

No funny business here. If things go sideways, the Sudania cops won't care where your gun came from.

So, what are you looking for?"

"What do you got?"

"What do you need?"

Daniel's swagger left the caller speechless for a sec, then he shot back, "Got an M4? How about an M110A1 sniper rifle? If not, an AR-15 will do."

Daniel laughed. Asking for top-tier military rifles right off the bat? This kid had guts.

He could totally get those guns, and even whip up better ones than the big-name brands, but those flashy weapons would draw way too much heat. Most bosses wouldn't touch 'em.

Old-school guns were the way to go. An AKM? That thing blends in anywhere, and anyone can handle an AK-74.

But from what Daniel had seen over the years, high-end rifles were where the money was at. An AR-15? That's gold to a lot of folks. Throw in some accessories and a thousand rounds, and they'd drop thirty to fifty grand without blinking.

Figuring this buyer had deep pockets, he grinned and said, "How about something even better, like an FN-SCAR or an HK-417? Any model you want, but it's gonna cost you."

The caller practically shouted, "Are you serious? I couldn't even get a semi-auto SCAR-PDW in Halcyon."

Daniel shrugged, "Believe it or not, if you want it, bring $50,000 in cash, and I'll let you test it out."

The caller paused, then said, "Alright, let's do it. But Jackal, this isn't a one-off. Can you deliver the guns to southern Sudania for me? It's a pain to fly them in from Nairovia."

Daniel frowned, "Delivery's extra. This time of year, the road from Nairovia to southern Sudania is a mess. Only way is to rent a small plane, and that ain't cheap."

"Can you rent a plane?"

Roads between Sudania and southern Sudania are only good in the dry season.

In central Afrilon, only Ugandara has decent roads connecting to southern Sudania. Other places, like eastern Essobia and western Central Afrilon, have crap roads, making southern Sudania feel like an island.

To get there, you either fly straight from Nairovia or fly to Ugandara and drive.

Driving's doable, but you gotta wait for the dry season and know the terrain to cross the savannah. If you can fly, why bother driving?

Daniel laughed at the caller's cluelessness, "Ask around. There's a small town called 'Malabari' in southern Sudania where you can rent a private plane to fly straight in.

As long as your mine's got a basic road, the plane can land there."

After a few minutes of silence, the caller said, "Let's see the goods first, Jackal. Where do we meet? We need a spot to test the guns, right?"

Daniel checked the time and nodded, "Let's meet at 4 PM. Drive along the west road from Nairovia, and I'll be waiting for you by the roadside."

With that, Daniel hung up and headed to the basement, his stash and workshop.

In the 430-square-foot basement, a 12-foot-long, 6-foot-wide wooden table in the center was loaded with all kinds of light weapons.

Daniel thought for a sec, packed an FN-SCAR, an AK-74, and an AK-47 into gun cases, and then boxed up two M1911 pistols and ten boxes of various ammo.

Done with that, Daniel sat at his workbench and started assembling and fine-tuning his guns.