There was cash everywhere. Tall stacks on the file cabinet, along the perimeter of the lush Oriental carpets. The attache case was well nigh impossible to close.
The C.I.A. was used to cramming millions into tight places. This was, again, bound for Afghanistani officials. The ones that would lead us to the coal,
copper, lithium, iron ore, lithium, gold, chromite, rare earth elements,
talc, sulfur, lead, barites, marble, precious and semi-precious stones,
petroleum and natural gas. We desperately needed these minerals to
continue our own greed. Our money would ensure access to power. The right officials who would make the necessary deals. Dick was one of them.
"Your people not question this money?" the bearded man inquired.
"No, Americans are like children at Christmas. They can never have enough. They're drowning in their own trash. Choking from the chemicals we spew at them. They're so dumb, they haven't figured out why so many people have cancer," Dick said laughing.
"Hell, we hire psychologists who tell us how to sell them anything. Here is the kicker. We academize everything. Even hire Ph.D.'s to analyze why people don't care about the national debt, the wars we get into. Nope, they are goners."
Two more men in dark Brooks Brothers suits entered the small office in Kabul and escorted the C.I.A. agent to his Mercedes waiting in the street below. The sun was out in full display on this cool May morning. A flotilla of more Mercedes, five in all, followed them to the resort at Lake Karga, a safe distance from once-picturesque Spozhmai hotel, nearly destroyed last year from the attack by the Taliban.
We passed several watch towers to the secured gate and waited.
"UGLY AMERICAN."
That was the code we were told to use to gain entry beyond the gates. A large fountain greeted us as well as a staff fit for an English manor. Two black hawk helicopters were behind the building with two suited pilots inside the cockpit.
The sun withdrew behind the clouds as we awaited the partners.
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