novelAbuy Chapter 45 3.8 million per ship
Chapter 45 3.8 million per ship
The negotiations lasted from the afternoon until late at night. By the time the final terms were basically finalized, it was already 10 p.m.
"General Dubois," Chen Feng stood up, looking somewhat tired but satisfied, "I think we have a very good foundation. My team will prepare the specific contract text within three days. In the meantime, you may continue to tour our industrial facilities, or... take a look at the 'Courbet-class' ship currently under construction."
This proposal thrilled all the French people.
"You mean..." Dubois probed.
"Tomorrow morning, I will arrange a 'limited tour' for everyone," Chen Feng said with a smile. "From a sufficient distance, you will be able to see the outline and scale clearly. This should help you convince Paris that this investment is worthwhile."
"Thank you for your kindness." Dubois extended his hand.
Their hands clasped again. This time, Dubois's grip was lighter, and the clasp was shorter—it wasn't a test, it was acceptance.
"Well then, good night everyone." Chen Feng said goodbye.
Stepping out of the conference room, Uncle Wang asked in a low voice, "Young Master, three million eight hundred thousand is less than our expected four million. And there are only thirteen technology transfer items..."
"That's enough." Chen Feng walked briskly down the corridor. "The optical rangefinder and the special alloy technology alone are worth half a million pounds. The rest are just extras. Moreover, the French 'acknowledgment of fact' is more important than the technology—it means we are no longer completely invisible."
"But the risks are also greater. What will the Germans do if the deal is leaked?"
Chen Feng stopped and looked out the window at the night scene.
"So we must make sure the Germans get what they want too," he said slowly. "Tomorrow, inform Dr. Schmidt that we will arrange for them to visit some of the non-core facilities of 'Cheetah' the day after. We need to make them feel that we are more open and trusting of Germany."
"Trying to please both sides without offending either?" Uncle Wang worried. "It's like walking a tightrope."
"No," Chen Feng shook his head. "It's not about pandering, it's about striking a balance. We need to make the Germans feel that we depend on them, and the French feel that we need them. Then, we can find a space for Lanfang to survive and an opportunity to develop between them."
He continued walking forward:
"Moreover, when the Courbet-class and Gepard-class naval vessels are completed, the world will find that the center of naval technology is no longer Britain, no longer Germany, but here, in the Persian Gulf. At that time, we will no longer be pawns."
"What is that?"
Chen Feng pushed open the door to his study, turned around, and smiled.
"He's a chess player."
The door closed.
Uncle Wang stood in the corridor, pondering those words.
chess player.
Yes, perhaps soon, this young leader, this Lanfang who is not recognized by the world, will truly be able to sit at that card table.
Together with Britain, Germany, and France, we will play a game that will determine the fate of the world.
The stakes are the future of all Chinese people.
General Dubois did not sleep in the suite prepared for the French delegation at the Palm Palace.
He sat at his desk, under the light of the desk lamp, drafting a secret telegram to Paris. On the table were negotiation records, technical specifications, and a copy of the "Kouba-class" preliminary design plan.
"General, do you really believe they can deliver within twelve months?" Louis Moreau asked. The engineer, also unable to sleep, was repeatedly studying the design drawings.
"I believe they are capable," Dubois said without looking up. "You saw it when you visited the industrial park today; their equipment, worker quality, and management are all quite good. And..."
He put down his pen:
"Moreover, the fact that they dared to take us to see the ship under construction shows that there are indeed actual structures. This is not a scam; it's genuine industrial capability."
“But this is incredible.” Pierre Durand shook his head. “A group of Chinese building the world’s most advanced battleships in the Persian Gulf desert…it sounds like fiction.”
"But that's reality." Henry Lefever pointed to a detail on the design drawings. "Look at the design of this armor joint, the way it's angled and welded, I've never seen anything like it in Europe. And the design of the turret's rotating mechanism... These weren't just ideas; they were the result of calculations and experiments."
Dubois finally finished the draft of the secret telegram. He read it over:
"To His Excellency Thomson, Minister of the Navy, and His Excellency Clemenceau, Prime Minister: A preliminary agreement has been reached with Chen Feng, leader of the Lanfang Army. They can provide the 'Courbet-class' battleships, with the following specifications: standard displacement 23,000 tons, full load displacement 25,000 tons, armed with twelve 305mm main guns, speed 22 knots, and armor protection superior to the German Westphalian-class. The price is £3.8 million per ship, payable in 50% cash plus 50% colonial resources. Thirteen technology transfers are required. A commitment is made to deliver the first ship within twelve months. They will arrange a site visit to the hull under construction tomorrow. Approval recommended. Dubois"
He paused, then added the last sentence:
"Personal assessment: Lanfang's industrial capabilities have exceeded expectations. Chen Feng is young but unfathomable. This transaction carries enormous risk but may be the only way out for the French Navy. I recommend making a decision as soon as possible."
"Should we send it?" asked the communications officer in the delegation.
"Send it. Use the highest level of security." Dubois nodded. "Also, prepare a technical assessment report, analyzing in detail the design advantages of the 'Courbet-class'. Morrow, this is yours."
"Yes." Louis Moreau had already begun writing and drawing in his notebook.
Dubois walked to the window and looked out at the night view of Dubai Port. The port area was still brightly lit, and the faint roar of machinery could be heard. Further away, the darkness of the desert stretched endlessly.
He recalled what Navy Minister Thomson had said to him before he left Paris: "Charles, the future of the French Navy is in your hands."
At the time, he thought it was just a polite remark.
Now he knows it's true.
If this deal goes through, France will acquire three world-class battleships within two years and five within five years. Although still fewer than Germany, this would at least give them a force to contend with.
If it fails...
Dubois dared not even think about it.
"General," Pierre Durand suddenly said, "have you ever thought about why Lanfang is helping us? They could have just sold to the Germans; that would have been safer."
"Because they need a balance." Dubois turned to them. "If Germany completely controls them, they will become Germany's vassals. But if they have France as a customer, they have choices and bargaining power."
"So we're taking advantage of each other."
"Isn't that what international politics is all about?" Dubois smiled wryly. "Using each other, checking each other, dancing on a tightrope of interests. The only difference is that some people dance well, and some people fall."
He walked back to his desk, picked up the design drawings, and gently traced the outline of the warship with his fingers.
This ship doesn't have a name yet.
But in Dubois's mind, it should be called "Richelio"—named after the cardinal who established France's status as a naval power.
Or it could be called "Corby," named after Louis XIV's First Lord of the Navy.
The glory of the French Navy has been dimmed for far too long.
Perhaps, these five ships can reignite it.
"Moro," he said suddenly, "if the deal goes through, I want to name the first ship 'France'."
Louis Moreau raised his head, the same light flashing in his eyes:
"A good name, General. The France... It will lead the fleet to restore its glory."
The two looked at each other and saw hope in each other's eyes.
That long-lost, almost luxurious hope.
Outside the window, the clocks of Dubai Port chimed in the midnight hour.
A new day is about to begin.
The fate of the French Navy may be changed on this day.