How I Paid Off a Debt in South America (2)
"The real question is how you plan to get around the economic sanctions on Russia."
"I already have something in mind."
"Would it be possible to hear it first? I may be able to offer some advice."
"Of course. We may even need the Korean government's help."
I began laying out what I had planned, and Moon Sung-moon hummed under his breath, nodding as he listened.
"...If you go about it that way, you really could get around the sanctions. And it wouldn't be much of a stretch for our government, either."
"So it's not completely insane?"
"But will the United States really sit still for this?"
"They will. Even if they know."
"Why?"
"Because I've already gotten President Drump's blessing."
"Hah... I knew you were something else, but you really aren't ordinary, Mr. President."
"I'd be grateful if you could pass our requests along to the Korean government."
"Understood. I'll inquire with them."
"Thank you."
Three days later, Eugene set out with Moon Sung-moon for an SIA safe house on the outskirts of Libertad. Inside the room they arrived at, a man built like a bear was waiting. It was Andrey Sokolov, Russia's Deputy Minister of Finance.
"A pleasure. Andrey Sokolov, of Russia."
The attitude was, at a single glance, as arrogant as they came. Look at this asshole. Eugene sat down across from him without so much as a greeting and crossed his legs.
"Eugene Choi. As you know, the President of San Marcos."
Andrey's eyelid twitched.
"Calling us the moment you take office to say you'll pay the debt — did you strike gold or something?"
"Gold? Hardly. I'm just cleaning up the shit the last administration dumped."
"I see."
"Let's skip the preamble and get to it. I checked the books. Nine-point-one billion dollars."
Andrey tossed a worn sheaf of papers onto the table.
"Our terms are quite generous. A clean thirty percent — two-point-seven billion in cash — and we'll write off the rest. How about it? Rather extraordinary, wouldn't you say?"
"Deputy Minister, let's be honest with each other. If we wire dollars into your account right now, can you even spend them? The moment that money hits, it'll be frozen."
"It's our money. We'll handle it ourselves."
"And why, exactly, is it your money?"
"???"
Eugene folded his arms and leaned back against the chair.
"It only becomes Russia's money once we pay it. If we never pay, how does it become yours?"
"...That sounds to me like you haven't decided whether you'll pay at all."
"You can't buy something without looking at the price tag first."
At the implication that this would be a brinkmanship negotiation, Andrey answered firmly.
"Our price tag is two-point-seven billion dollars. If you're thinking of anything less, there is no negotiation."
"Then I suppose that's that. Since you're already in San Marcos, do enjoy some good food before you leave. Spend some money while you're at it. Deputy Director Moon, shall we?"
"You summon a man here and... what kind of insult is this?!"
"You said there was no negotiation. So there's no point wasting any more time."
Eugene walked out of the safe house, leaving Andrey's face burning red behind him. The man came after him, but Eugene climbed straight into the car without a backward glance.
On the road back to the Presidential Palace, Moon Sung-moon asked with a face full of concern.
"I'm not sure this is wise."
"What isn't?"
"If the talks collapse entirely..."
"Then we simply don't pay."
"...You're making full use of a debtor's leverage, Mr. President."
"That's right. Paying it off makes sense in the long run — but it's not urgent right now."
Eugene shifted his gaze out the window.
"And I expect they'll be back in touch within two days."
"......"
Eugene's prediction came true in twelve hours. The next morning, the moment the sun rose, Andrey's people contacted Moon Sung-moon to say they wanted to resume negotiations.
This time, Eugene met Andrey alone.
"I apologize for yesterday. Our country's situation is urgent, and I let myself get carried away."
Andrey, more courteous than the day before, offered his apology first.
"I was rude as well."
Despite being a president, Eugene bowed his head. Andrey nodded, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. Watching Eugene lower his head so readily, he expected the negotiation would not be easy.
"If you could name a figure you can manage, I'll consider it."
Andrey opened the negotiation.
"We're thinking eight hundred million dollars."
His brow furrowed at a sum far lower than he had anticipated.
"That would be difficult. Please meet us at two billion at the very least."
"As you know, San Marcos is a poor country. I hope you'll understand that eight hundred million is already the best we can do."
"I understand you've recently developed oil fields, and that your fiscal situation has improved considerably..."
"The country was run so poorly for so long that the money that needs to go out isn't a small amount."
"I understand, but eight hundred million is far too little. If you prefer, we could do two billion, interest-free, paid in installments over five years. I'd consider that."
"Hmm."
It wasn't a bad offer, to be sure. With the profits coming off the oil fields, and factoring in Tortilla Company's operating income, they could manage about four hundred million a year without much trouble.
"If you accept, we will immediately announce that San Marcos has fully repaid its debt to Russia."
But. Better to haggle it down as far as it'll go. Eugene had no intention of spending two billion dollars.
"First, thank you for such a generous proposal."
"......"
"That said, I'd like to make a different offer of my own."
"Please."
"As I understand it, Russia's internal situation is quite dire. Years of war have slashed the labor force to the bone, production has been badly disrupted, and you're dealing with high inflation. The supply chains have been broken for a long time as well."
"...That's not untrue."
Eugene laced his fingers and leaned forward.
"What about eight hundred million dollars' worth of goods in kind? Trucks, auto parts — things Russia actually needs. I think that would be worth every bit as much as two billion in cash."
Andrey's face hardened in an instant at the unexpected proposal.
"Goods in kind would be a different conversation, but every shipment bound for Russia is being monitored right now."
"I have a plan."
Eugene's eyes gleamed.
"We'll send it through Korea, then on to China. Once it's there, I don't think Russia taking possession would be a problem... What do you say?"
Andrey's pupils wavered. A sitting president was personally designing a sanctions-busting smuggling route for him.
"I don't think the United States will sit still for this. If you believe you can slip this past American eyes, I'd advise you to think again."
"Don't worry."
Eugene answered with a look of complete confidence.
"I've already settled things with the American side."
"...America accepted those terms?"
"Once I told them we'd be ordering the entire eight hundred million in goods from the United States, they were actually quite pleased."
"......"
Andrey had no answer for that. He already knew that the Eugene Choi sitting across from him and Drump were on reasonably friendly terms. What he had never imagined was that the friendship ran deep enough to shrug off sanctions the United States itself had authored.
"It's not as if turning down a chance to sell your own country's products makes much sense, is it?"
A brief silence filled the meeting room. Andrey stared at Eugene for a long time, as if running a complicated set of calculations behind his eyes. He knew the truth well enough himself. What Russia needed right now was not a claim that might or might not ever be collected — a scrap of paper. It was goods in kind.
"I think... I've lost today."
Andrey finally let out a hollow laugh and leaned back. It was the wry chuckle of a man conceding defeat.
"Eight hundred million in goods in kind. Full extinguishment of San Marcos's debt. I'll take those terms back to the Kremlin for final approval. In exchange, we choose the types of goods. And we'll inspect the quality."
"Of course. But no semiconductors or ultra-precision components. I didn't discuss those."
"We wouldn't ask for that much."
The two men clasped hands. It was the moment San Marcos's national rehabilitation was complete.
Three months later, a massive crane screeched as it loaded containers packed with American cars and auto parts onto a heavy cargo ship. Once those goods passed through Korea, crossed the Chinese mainland, and landed in Russian hands, the deadbeat label stuck to San Marcos would finally come off.
"It's quite a sight. I never imagined eight hundred million dollars' worth of cargo would look like this."
Moon Sung-moon, the man who had done the heavy lifting on both the Russian negotiation and the coordination with the Korean government, clicked his tongue in amazement.
"It's thanks to you, Deputy Director. Truly — thank you."
When I held out my hand with genuine gratitude, Moon Sung-moon took it, a peculiar smile on his face.
"Think nothing of it. I was only doing my job as a civil servant. That said, Mr. President."
"Yes?"
"I've decided to leave the NIS after this assignment."
"I'm sorry? Wait — all of a sudden?"
I stared at him in shock. Deputy Director of the National Intelligence Service was the kind of post people clawed themselves bloody to reach.
"The kids are grown now, and I'd like to settle down in one place. The work's gotten a bit stale, too."
"If you haven't decided where you're going, come to San Marcos. I'll keep a seat open for you."
Moon Sung-moon beamed at the sincere offer.
"I will be coming to San Marcos. But I expect I'll be coming as a member of the Korean government."
"...I'm sorry? What does that mean?"
Moon Sung-moon drew a crisp business card from the inner pocket of his suit and held it out.
"I've been appointed the Republic of Korea's Ambassador to San Marcos."
The name on the card was not Moon Sung-moon.
"...So you've gone back to your real name."
"Yes. I've reclaimed my given name and will be taking up the post as ambassador. I look forward to working with you, Mr. President."
I stared blankly at the card, then let out a hollow laugh.
"The pleasure is mine, Ambassador Park."
"The title still feels a little strange."
Park Moon-soo let out a hearty laugh.
"There's one thing I'm personally curious about, if I may ask."
"By all means."
"I'd like to know why, as your first policy as president, you chose to pay off an old debt."
A sharp question, worthy of a man from the intelligence services.
"Ah, that?"
I looked out at the distant horizon and grinned.