Chapter 61: If You Want War
“Noah, how many days has it been since our last job?”
“Hmm... I think it’s been about a week. Why aren’t any more cars coming in?”
Noah said this while diligently working on his portfolio on his phone.
Crunch—
It was impressive that he could type that quickly with only one hand while eating Cheetos with the other.
“Exactly. Something feels strange.”
In the weeks since entering into the strategic partnership with Sterling Selection, we had worked on three vehicles.
A 1962 Alfa Romeo Giulia Spider that embodied restrained Italian sensuality.
A 1997 Land Rover Defender 90—the North American version, which had different specifications from the European model—that had become a name-your-price collectible because only seven thousand had been imported.
And even a BMW E30 M3, the first 3 Series to bear the M badge in 1982.
The restoration fees differed because each vehicle required a different scope of work, but the three projects had earned us an impressive total of approximately fifty-four thousand dollars.
The Alfa Romeo Giulia Spider, in particular, sold at auction for one hundred thousand dollars, close to the model’s record price, leaving Sterling extremely satisfied.
They had even sounded me out about increasing the number of vehicles they sent for restoration. I had deliberately declined other jobs and waited for them, which made this sudden interruption all the more puzzling.
“Noah, let’s call it a day—”
Ring, ring, ring—
Just as I was about to send Noah home and leave work myself, Hailey called.
Speak of the devil.
“Hi, Jason...”
“Hailey, I was just thinking I’d call you if I didn’t hear from you by tomorrow. Nothing happened at Sterling, did it?”
Hailey sounded noticeably more dejected than usual, so I asked her about the situation directly.
“Sigh... That’s actually why I called. The company is in chaos right now. The new direct-purchasing project is in danger of collapsing.”
“Collapsing? Why? Judging by the auctions, everyone’s results seemed decent. The profit margins looked healthy too.”
All three vehicles I had restored had sold at prices within roughly the top ten percent for their respective models, and Sterling’s internally restored vehicles had not performed badly either.
“I think that may have provoked one of our competitors. Someone has been aggressively sweeping up every available vehicle on the market.”
“Is that even possible? It would take an enormous amount of money.”
“Some of the top players in the industry have considerable financial power. And either our strategy has been exposed or something else is going on, because they’re mainly taking the models we’ve been targeting.”
“You mean information is leaking...?”
The moment I heard Hailey’s words, I felt a dull ache around my temples.
I raised my head and stared at the warehouse ceiling.
A rat...
It had been the same back then.
An IED that should never have been there had been planted right along our route of movement, practically flaunting its presence.
(Translator’s Note: IED — An abbreviation for improvised explosive device, meaning a nonstandard explosive weapon assembled and planted for an attack.)
Because of it, one of my comrades had died.
The comrade who had been closest to me, like family.
“Jason...?”
When I remained silent for a while, Hailey called my name anxiously.
“Whew. Hailey, this is a green-on-blue situation. An internal information leak is never something to take lightly.”
(Translator’s Note: Green-on-Blue — A military term for an insider attack in which a supposedly allied or trusted member attacks friendly personnel.)
“Green-on-blue? Sigh, I don’t know what that means, but we’ve already invested a lot of capital in this project. We’ve expanded our workforce internally too. Anyway, beyond the money itself, if this continues, the board will eventually shut the project down. There’s no profit coming in, while the expenses keep piling up.”
“Exactly. They probably know that too, which is why they’ve started this war of attrition.”
It was easy to say, but identifying a competitor’s internal information and then wielding massive amounts of capital against them was no simple feat.
Viewed from another angle, however, it also meant the enemy recognized Sterling Selection as a true competitor.
They must have believed this project posed a threat to their future.
“Hailey, don’t worry too much for now. Just behave as you normally would. There’s no need to act awkwardly around people or suddenly start watching everything you say. I’m going to speak with your father.”
“My dad? Do you have some kind of plan?”
“...If the enemy wants an intelligence war and a campaign of deception, then we’ll give them the same.”
The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
Adrenaline surged through my veins, a sensation I had not felt in a very long time.
“You’re saying we shouldn’t try to uncover the insider?”
Richard’s voice over the phone held a mixture of bewilderment and suspicion.
“Yes. This is not the time for that. If we pour our energy and attention into searching for the leak, the project’s cash flow will eventually seize up, and we’ll end up giving the other side exactly what they want.”
If our opponent were an amateur, they might fall for a canary trap, where different versions of information were deliberately leaked to identify an insider. But there was no chance they would be that careless.
(Translator’s Note: Canary Trap — A counterintelligence technique in which different versions of sensitive information are given to different people. The leaked version reveals the likely source of the breach.)
“Then are you suggesting we simply sit here and let them attack us? Even if we do nothing, our expenses will continue eating away at us.”
“That’s why we need a method that preserves as much of our own capital as possible while weakening theirs.”
Wars were fought entirely with money these days.
The only reason they could employ this strategy was because they had plenty of ammunition in their coffers.
In other words, we had to weaken the enemy’s financial advantage.
“Does such a method truly exist?”
“Yes. However, for this operation to succeed, you’ll have to trust me completely. Even then, it won’t be without risk. My strategy is...”
...
...
“Hmm...”
After hearing the entire explanation, Richard let out a low groan.
An awkward silence passed between us over the phone.
“Very well. Let’s try it your way. Our only other option is to admit defeat and shut down the division, and that doesn’t suit my temperament. It appears you and I truly are in the same boat now. I’m counting on you.”
“Yes. I’ll do my best. I don’t like backing down after taking a beating either.”
Rattle, rattle—
The deeper we go, the worse the roads get.
I was currently riding in the passenger seat of a black Chevrolet Tahoe SUV as we traveled along a road in Mexico.
Beside me, behind the wheel, was a man around my age with pronounced double eyelids. His name was Lucas Cárdenas.
“My father must trust you a great deal, Jason. He almost never asks me to do something like this.”
Lucas was Rafael’s son.
He primarily worked as a car scout and broker, searching South America for classic cars and supplying them to his father’s business.
“Yes. I only brought this proposal to him because I trust Rafael just as much. I’m counting on you.”
“Of course. Information security is the most important part of this job, right? But before that, you should loosen up your expression a little. If you meet people with that look on your face, they’ll all become wary of you immediately. Hahaha.”
Lucas’s comment was half joke and half sincere advice.
“...Yes. I’ll try.”
Looking into the mirror attached to the sun visor, I kneaded my face with my hands, pressing firmly against it.
Richard and I had spent several days carefully reviewing the operation and making thorough preparations, repeatedly working the calculator and telephone.
During that process, we discovered that the party attacking us was Blackwood Inventory, the second-largest company in the classic-car auction industry.
It was not as though we had uncovered the truth through espionage. The list of vehicles Blackwood had placed in direct-purchase auctions simply overlapped enormously with Sterling’s list.
They must not even be trying to hide it. Either that, or they don’t have enough spare capital to keep holding on to all those vehicles.
Whatever the case, being able to identify the enemy was an enormous strategic advantage.
Then shall we find some lemons that will drain their funds?
(Translator’s Note: Lemon — American slang for a defective or seriously flawed vehicle. The term is also reflected in American “lemon laws,” which provide remedies for buyers of persistently defective vehicles.)
The first stage of my operation was to acquire vehicles from the list Sterling had originally intended to purchase.
However, they had to contain subtle defects that would require as much time and money as possible to restore.
Naturally, Blackwood’s scouts were spread all across the United States, so we had to venture into “outside” territory where their influence was weaker.
This plan would have been impossible from the beginning without Mexico’s enormous classic-car market.
The next step was to bring the vehicles we secured into the United States and place them on the open market, then encourage a bidding war between Sterling and Blackwood to drive the prices as high as possible.
Of course, Sterling’s participation would only be a staged sparring match, so Blackwood would ultimately purchase the vehicles.
The profit generated from those sales would then flow back to Sterling, where it would either be used to purchase more vehicles designed to weaken the enemy’s financial position or to cover the project’s operating expenses.
In other words, it was a structure that would use the enemy’s money to keep our side alive for as long as possible.
To make all of this possible while concealing Sterling’s name, Richard and I entered into a separate profit participation loan agreement.
(Translator’s Note: Profit Participation Loan / Participating Debt — A financing arrangement in which a lender receives repayment of the principal and an agreed share of the borrower’s profits or proceeds.)
Sterling would provide me with the capital needed to purchase the vehicles, then recover the principal and a portion of the resale profit as a success fee.
Surprisingly, this type of participating debt was both legal and common in American commercial transactions.
“By the way, that purchase list is quite well organized. It certainly looks like it was put together by someone who knows cars.”
Lucas glanced at the sheet containing the vehicle list.
The vehicles we had to acquire were:
(Translator’s Note: Mercedes-Benz 280SL — The final version of Mercedes-Benz’s W113 “Pagoda” SL series. The 280SL was produced from late 1967/early 1968 through March 1971.)
(Translator’s Note: Volkswagen Type 2 Samba (T1) — A high-specification passenger version of the first-generation Volkswagen Type 2.)
Eight models in total.
Our target was at least seventy vehicles, but the more we could acquire within the limits of our funding, the better.
For reference, I had exercised no influence whatsoever over this list. It was entirely Hailey’s work.
We could not allow the slightest difference from her previous decisions to be noticed.
“Yes, probably. She’s completely hopeless when it comes to mechanical matters, but she has an extraordinary eye for trends in the automobile market.”
“But finding that many examples of these models in good condition won’t be easy. Appraising each vehicle individually will take a great deal of time too.”
Lucas looked concerned.
His concern was only natural, since he knew nothing about my appraisal skills.
“Yes, which is why they don’t all have to be in perfect condition. I’ll handle the inspections and purchase decisions as quickly as possible, so all you need to do is show me as many vehicles as you can. Besides, I plan to fill seventy percent of our target quantity with relatively common models such as Jeeps, Blazers, Broncos, and Volkswagens, so it isn’t completely unrealistic.”
“Whew, I see. Still, a target of seventy vehicles... This will be my first time purchasing anything on this scale all at once. It’s going to be an enormous business trip. The Mexican dealers are going to be excited for the first time in a while.”
There had once been a major trend of buying classic vehicles cheaply in Mexico, restoring them in the United States, and selling them at high prices.
It had even become popular enough to inspire television programs devoted to the subject.
It was known as cross-border car arbitrage.
(Translator’s Note: Cross-Border Car Arbitrage — The practice of purchasing vehicles in one country where they are relatively inexpensive and reselling them in another market where prices are higher.)
Once word spread throughout the industry that money could be made this way, people from Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona—states bordering Mexico—rushed into the business.
Naturally, the results were disastrous.
The United States and Mexico were neighboring countries, but their ethnic backgrounds, cultures, and ways of thinking were entirely different.
There was no reason to expect business between them to proceed smoothly from the outset.
Furthermore, the sudden increase in demand caused classic-car prices throughout Mexico to rise all at once, gradually eroding the advantage.
Recently, most people had withdrawn from the market, with the exception of a handful who possessed powerful networks.
And Rafael was one of the people with such a network.
We had agreed to pay Rafael a finder’s fee equal to two percent of the purchase price.
Naturally, Richard had also agreed to pay me the same two-percent rate.
The percentage might appear low at first glance, but given the enormous number of vehicles involved, it would produce a substantial profit.
Lucas also seemed to have been promised a share by Rafael, judging by the broad grin on his face.
Though he does seem naturally cheerful to begin with.
After nearly eight hours of driving along pothole-riddled roads, we finally arrived at our first destination.
“This place belongs to my hermano. He has the largest inventory in this area.”
{@PIC:824956}
[1963 Alfa Romeo Giulia Spider]
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{@PIC:824957}
[1997 Land Rover Defender 90]
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