CH53 | MCT

As You Wish (1)

Rahman sat before the telephone, deep in thought.

It was because of what Tae-soo had said.

I have something to tell you. This isn’t just for you, Rahman, but for your father—Khalid bin Abdulaziz Al Saud.

It was vital information.

For the Minister of Defense, who oversaw matters of war, it was even more critical.

Is this goodwill or malice? A favour or a trap?

Tae-soo had spoken with unwavering confidence.

"I will light the path ahead for you."

"Why shouldn’t we become allies? Let’s join forces."

And that’s why Rahman hesitated.

He had already paid the price for trusting Han Cheong-ho and Samwon Construction, suffering the consequences of their betrayal.

This information has the power to shape my position and influence.

Rahman had been cast aside and exiled to the West due to political power struggles.

But this information—it could propel him back to the center, elevating him to a position of significance in an instant.

As he wrestled with the decision, Tae-soo’s words resurfaced in his mind.

"As I said earlier, forget words—follow the money. And what better foundation for trust than a contract?"

Tae-soo had been meticulous, even preparing a contract in advance.

It meant he was absolutely certain this information was worth money.

Even if I can’t trust words, I can trust a contract.

Rahman suddenly felt his mind clear.

There was no need to decipher the hidden intentions behind words.

He only had to follow the trail of money.

Winner takes all. The victor claims everything—so I’ll make my move on this round, too.

Rahman picked up the phone.

Meanwhile, in Riyadh, the capital of Saudi Arabia—

A grand estate stood a short distance from the royal palace, owned by Khalid bin Abdulaziz Al Saud.

Receiving his son’s call, Khalid’s expression shifted.

[Son… are you saying war could break out soon?]

"Yes, that’s correct."

A sudden doubt crept in.

How did a man exiled to the western cities of Saudi Arabia come across such classified information?

[Could it be information from your uncle’s side?]

"No, Father. Han Cheong-ho has already severed ties with me. You know that as well."

[Hmm…]

His older brother and Han Cheong-ho.

They had both betrayed Rahman, backed him into a corner, and left him to fend for himself.

The more Khalid thought about it, the more his teeth clenched in anger.

But he quickly regained his composure.

I wouldn’t be shaken over something like this. If I were, I wouldn’t have decided to send Rahman to the West in the first place.

Khalid tightened his fist.

If he had to name his most exceptional son, it would be Rahman without question.

Rahman had been known for his brilliance from a young age.

Khalid had long considered him as his successor.

He surpasses my brother in every way. A man this capable cannot be brought down by something so trivial.

Resentment simmered in his chest.

But there was no turning back.

If my brother’s ambitions end here, I can accept it. But if he intends to cast my son out of this country entirely… then I won’t stand idly by.

Just then, Rahman’s voice came through the receiver.

"Father, let me be blunt. We need to prepare for war—immediately."

If anyone else had said such a thing, Khalid would have dismissed it as nonsense.

But this was Rahman speaking.

[Rahman… do you actually believe the words of that braggart, Sadat?]

"No, Father. I no longer trust the deceitful words of men. I believe all of this is part of Egyptian President Sadat’s grand deception."

[Then what led you to this conclusion, my son?]

"The flow of money. Because people do not waste money without reason."

It was something Tae-soo had taught him.

But now, those words were engraved deep within Rahman’s heart.

To Khalid, this was unexpected.

The beginning and end of the world is, ultimately, desire. And desire is inseparable from money. Has Rahman finally realized that?

If he had, then he had grasped the fundamental principles of the world.

A grin spread across Khalid’s face.

[Who taught you such a lesson?]

It was clear that someone had left an indelible mark on Rahman.

Someone was guiding him.

Rahman himself might not realize it, but to Khalid, this was an unmistakable act of goodwill.

"A man named Kang Tae-soo from South Korea."

An unfamiliar name.

[What kind of person is he?]

"A man who understands the weight of both money and words. Not a single word he spoke was light. Even while looking at a glass of wine, he could see right through a person."

It was the first time Rahman had ever spoken so highly of someone.

If Rahman acknowledges him…

Rahman was destined for greatness.

If this man could shape him into a true successor, then no price would be too high.

"Father, I have an urgent request."

[A request? What is it?]

"I need oil."

Rahman explained his meeting with Tae-soo.

When he reached the part about their contract, Khalid slapped his knee and burst into laughter.

[What a remarkable man! His cunning is exceptional. You had no choice but to accept his offer— even I would have found it hard to refuse.]

But there was one thing Khalid didn’t like.

[Rahman, why did you agree to raise the stakes?]

It wasn’t that Khalid couldn’t provide that much oil.

But there was no need to give it away so easily, either.

[Were you caught up in the thrill of the bet? Or did you fall for his tricks?]

"No, Father. I simply chose the most efficient way to win."

Khalid was pleased with his son’s answer.

[Rahman, you've staked everything on this project, haven't you?]

"Yes. If I fail, there will be no place for me in the Saudi royal family."

[Well done. Rather than being played, you turned his greed to your advantage. You’ve learned how to leverage human desire for your own gain.]

But what if Rahman failed and was cast out?

Khalid had no intention of acknowledging Tae-soo.

Han Cheong-ho, that wretched bastard.

How could he let the man who ruined his son’s plans go unpunished?

For revenge, he intended to ruin Han’s business just as thoroughly.

It’s just oil. I only wanted his greed to blind him so he’d push to finish the road construction at all costs. We’re in the same boat now—if this fails, he’ll taste failure right alongside us.

[Excellent. You chose your battleground wisely, the one you absolutely had to win.]

It was rare for Khalid to give praise.

[And you've learned how to move the pieces on the board. Meeting him has taught you a valuable lesson.]

"Thank you, Father."

Khalid felt intrigued.

[You said this man is from South Korea?]

"Yes. He took over the construction project from Samwon Construction and will see it through to the end."

[Once the road is completed, bring him to me. I’d like to meet him.]

"Understood, Father. I’ll see you then."

After ending the call, Khalid turned to his steward.

[There is something I need you to investigate—quietly.]

***

Back at his lodging, Tae-soo checked the date.

April 25, 1973.

The special agents should be arriving in the Middle East any day now.

Just then, Second Secretary Song Chang-jun arrived.

"The special agents will be here in a week," he reported.

When Tae-soo first arrived in the Middle East, he had expected the agents to follow within three days.

But their arrival had been delayed—again and again.

Song Chang-jun scratched his head awkwardly.

"I hope they actually show up this time. I’ve lost count of how many times they’ve postponed."

Tae-soo didn’t particularly need the special agents, but by now, even he was curious—why were they delaying so much?

Is this Han Cheong-ho’s doing again?

Most likely.

Han must have assumed Tae-soo would bring the agents when meeting the Bedouins and was pulling strings to interfere.

He must’ve spent quite a bit trying to trip me up. What a shame—every cent of it was wasted.

Tae-soo had met the Bedouins just fine without the agents, and everything had been settled.

Now, all that remained was completing the road construction and sending the Samwon Construction executives back to Korea.

"Let’s stay calm. I’m sure there’s a reason for the delay."

"Sigh... Well, I do have a few guesses. I heard that just a few days ago, there was an incident at the Namsan Outdoor Music Hall during the Easter service."

Tae-soo immediately understood.

The Namsan Easter Service Incident.

In 1973, during the Park Jung-hwan Yushin regime, reformist Protestants who emphasized the need for democratization and aid for the poor were accused of plotting an insurrection.

At the time, urban poverty was a severe issue, and many were involved in missionary work within shantytowns.

During the Easter service at Namsan, some of them took action.

They hung banners calling for democracy and distributed pamphlets to churchgoers.

Park Jung-hwan was furious, branding them as conspirators preparing for rebellion. Later, the Seoul District Prosecutor’s Office’s public security division was ordered to arrest them.

"That stirred up quite a bit of trouble. Cha Ki-beom has been keeping his head down, trying not to get on the president’s bad side. That’s probably why things have been delayed."

"I see. Well, in that case, there’s nothing we can do about it."

"You’re surprisingly patient. How can you be so generous? If it were me, I would’ve lodged a complaint immediately."

Song Chang-jun looked frustrated, but Tae-soo didn’t feel the same way.

"It doesn’t matter. They were just sent here to escort the Samwon Construction people back anyway."

This was nothing more than a face-saving publicity stunt for Park Jung-hwan.

But Song, unaware of the full picture, remained perplexed.

And in a few days, the 6th Inter-Korean Red Cross Talks will be held in Seoul, so the special agents won’t be able to stay in the Middle East for long.

That, too, was a welcome piece of news.

He had no interest in agents loitering around and meddling in his affairs.

"If that’s the situation, then it can’t be helped."

"Still, this isn’t right, is it? Oh, by the way, Chief Presidential Security Officer Cha Ki-beom left a message for you."

Song handed him a telegram.

<I regret that I could not consider your situation. However, you will one day thank me for this.>

Song sighed as he read the message again.

"No matter how many times I see this, it’s ridiculous. The president personally sent these agents to protect you during negotiations with the Bedouins."

That was the logical assumption anyone would make.

"Well, it’s fine. The negotiations with the Bedouins went smoothly, didn’t they? And even without them showing up, they’ve already served their purpose."

"Huh? Agents who haven’t even arrived yet?"

Tae-soo chuckled.

"Let’s just say it worked out. Anyway, I’m fine, so don’t get too worked up. It’s already hot enough here without you collapsing from the heat."

There were two main reasons Tae-soo had requested the special agents.

The first was to use Samwon Construction as bait.

And the second?

I wanted Han Cheong-ho to underestimate me.

Tae-soo had plenty of tricks up his sleeve, but he didn’t want Han to know that.

It’s not the right time yet.

Han needed to let his guard down.

That way, when the opportunity came, Tae-soo could strike him where it hurt the most.

And the more Han suffered, the sweeter the victory would be.

But what’s Cha Ki-beom really after? What’s his play here?

Tae-soo thought back to their meeting in Pohang.

At the time, Park Tae-jong had planned to offer special agents for security.

But unexpectedly, Cha Ki-beom had spoken up first.

"Your Excellency, may I take charge of selecting the special agents?"

Park Tae-jong had hesitated, but he had no real grounds to refuse.

After all, he was no longer in uniform, whereas Cha was the current head of presidential security.

I knew back then—depending on whose side Cha Ki-beom chose, things would get interesting.

Tae-soo smirked as he looked at the telegram.

Anyone else would be furious, like Song Chang-jun. And normally, Cha Ki-beom should be apologetic. But his reaction is completely different.

He had two theories.

Either Cha Ki-beom is an unpredictable lunatic, or this delay is actually working in my favor.

He was curious.

Why was Cha making this move?

I guess I’ll find out when the special agents finally arrive.