Chapter 567: The Phone Call from Washington
Leningrad.
Inside the research institute, Harper was flipping through the last batch of personnel files received that afternoon.
Outside the window, it was already pitch black.
Belov had specially asked the logistics department to prepare a simple dinner, hoping the American delegation would stay to talk a little longer.
He was in quite a good mood right now.
Today, the Japanese had backed down very cleanly, and the American side’s level of attention toward the institute was clearly exceeding expectations.
If things continued along this trajectory, the institute might genuinely secure a sizable sum of funding from both sides next year.
Of course, it would be best to squeeze a bit more out of the Japanese.
After all, funding from the US Government seemed to require quite complicated procedures, not to mention various restrictions on how it could be used.
The Japanese money was much more convenient.
“Mr. Harper.”
Belov picked up his teacup, preparing to probe further into the American side’s arrangements.
But someone suddenly knocked on the conference room door.
A staff member from the American delegation walked in briskly and leaned down to whisper a few words into Harper’s ear.
Harper frowned slightly.
“Right now?”
The staffer nodded.
Harper set down the documents in his hands.
“Excuse me for a moment.”
He got up and walked out of the conference room.
Belov didn’t think much of it and continued chatting with the adjacent Department of Defense consultant about the institute’s funding issues.
Not long after, however, Harper walked back in.
Only this time, his expression was distinctly different.
His earlier relaxed demeanor had vanished.
He walked over to his seat but didn’t sit down, glancing down at the roster of scientific researchers on the table.
“Director Belov.”
“Yes, Mr. Harper?”
“Regarding the personnel cooperation arrangements with your institute, I believe we need to make a slight adjustment.”
Belov hurriedly sat up straight.
“An adjustment?”
“Yes.”
Harper closed the roster.
“Following further communication, we believe there is currently no need to continue competing with the Japanese side over the transfer of these researchers.”
Belov was momentarily stunned.
“You mean…”
“The American delegation will withdraw from the commercial arrangements concerning this group of personnel.”
Harper stated clearly.
“We remain willing to discuss necessary aid and scientific research cooperation with your institute under the framework of the non-proliferation program, but we will no longer bid against Japanese companies regarding the placement of the personnel on that list.”
For a moment, Belov couldn’t process this.
What kind of joke was this?
Hadn’t they said this afternoon that these people were involved in sensitive technologies and required special attention from the US Government?
How had it suddenly become unnecessary to compete after just a few hours?
“But, Mr. Harper…”
Belov blurted out in haste.
“You mentioned this afternoon that the research these individuals were previously involved in could pertain to national security issues. I believe the institute should prioritize the American side’s recommendations, so the Japanese proposal—”
“Mr. Director.”
Harper interrupted him.
“I believe you may have misunderstood our intent.”
His tone remained very calm.
“The US Government is concerned with the future whereabouts of these sensitive technical personnel and whether they might participate in uncontrolled proliferation of military technology.”
“As for which suitable institution ultimately employs them, as long as the relevant security concerns are properly addressed, there is no need for us to interfere.”
Belov opened his mouth.
“But…”
“Furthermore, I advise you to resolve the existing personnel placement issues as soon as possible.”
Harper put the documents back into his briefcase.
“We understand that your institute has been in negotiations with the Japanese side for quite some time.”
“Since both parties were already close to reaching an agreement, dragging things out any further would likely serve little practical purpose.”
He paused for a moment.
“Especially given how tight your institute’s funding is at present.”
The expression on Belov’s face gradually froze.
The words sounded polite.
But he understood what they meant.
The Americans had no intention of continuing to help him drive up the price.
In fact, they even wanted him to wrap things up with the Japanese as quickly as possible.
“Mr. Harper, I believe there might be some misunderstanding here.”
Belov tried to explain.
“We did previously hold cooperation discussions with the Japanese side, but certain new circumstances have arisen recently, which is why I felt the original quotation needed to be re-evaluated—”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.”
Harper cut him off again.
This time, his tone was noticeably cooler.
“Mr. Director, the US Government’s aid programs have their own budgets and approval procedures. We will not allocate additional funds simply because a research institute has a price dispute with a foreign enterprise.”
“You should also understand that the purpose of this money is to assist in safeguarding international security.”
“It cannot be used as a bargaining chip for your institute to haggle with commercial entities.”
Belov’s face flushed crimson all at once.
He naturally understood the underlying meaning.
What made him feel even worse was that after saying this, Harper added another remark:
“Furthermore, I advise you to take the cooperation terms previously submitted by the Japanese side seriously.”
“Under the current circumstances, being able to provide researchers with long-term salaries, research funds, and family resettlement is in itself immensely valuable assistance.”
“If unnecessary delays cause this cooperation to fall through, I believe it would be unfair to your institute’s scientific researchers.”
Having said that, Harper was already beginning to gather the materials on the table.
“Let’s call it a day here, Mr. Director. We have another research institution to visit tomorrow.”
Belov sat frozen in place, unable to utter a word for a long time.
He watched as Harper put the final document into his briefcase, then stood up and shook hands with the others in farewell.
Only when the conference room door clicked shut again did he seem to finally snap out of it, whirling abruptly toward the deputy director sitting beside him.
“What on earth is going on here?!”
The deputy director was also somewhat dazed.
“I… I don’t know.”
“They were talking about cooperation this afternoon, and by evening they suddenly wash their hands of it?”
Belov stood up, pacing back and forth beside the conference table.
“What do they actually want?”
The deputy director hesitated for a moment.
“Director, should we talk to the Japanese again?”
Belov stopped.
The Japanese.
Just that afternoon, he had raised the asking price by thirty percent and told them that the institute needed to study the matter further.
He had originally assumed the Americans would keep competing, allowing him to take his time negotiating with bids from both sides in hand.
Yet now, the Americans had walked away just like that.
They hadn’t even left him a chance to haggle.
Meanwhile, salaries at the institute were more than a month overdue.
The equipment repair bills were still sitting on his desk.
Those capable scientists had long begun reaching out privately to foreign research institutions; if he dragged things out until they resigned on their own one by one, the institute might not even get this last bit of cooperation funds.
The more Belov thought about it, the darker his expression grew.
“Go.”
He finally spoke.
“Call Mr. Saeki.”
The deputy director hurriedly stood up.
“Tell him… tell him we have re-examined the cooperation proposal and hope to hold the next round of talks as soon as possible.”
“And the price?”
The corner of Belov’s mouth twitched.
“Stick to the original for now.”
“What about that thirty percent…”
“I said stick to the original!”
The deputy director promptly shut his mouth, grabbed his documents, and hurried out of the conference room.
Belov sank back into his chair.
He glanced at the aid program overview the Americans had just left on the table, then looked at the Japanese cooperation proposal next to it.
The more he looked at them, the more something felt off.
Yet after pondering it for a long while, he still couldn’t figure out where the issue lay.
Had the Americans truly had a sudden change of heart, thinking a Japanese company was better suited to accommodate those scientists?
Or had something happened on Washington’s end?
Not even two minutes after stepping out, the deputy director pushed the door open and returned, looking rather strange.
“Director… no need to make the call.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mr. Saeki is here. He’s downstairs in the reception office right now.”
The deputy director swallowed hard.
“He said he came to sign the contract.”
Belov froze where he stood.
The Americans’ cars had barely driven out of the courtyard, less than ten minutes ago in total. The Japanese man who had claimed this afternoon that he needed to go back and consult his headquarters was already standing downstairs with a contract, without even waiting for a call from the institute.
He suddenly recalled how Saeki looked when taking his leave that afternoon. Having the price jacked up thirty percent in front of the Americans would make anyone argue a bit, yet that Japanese man had merely gathered his documents, capped his pen, bowed courteously, and left.
Back then, he had thought the Japanese man was intimidated by the American delegation. Looking back now, the man hadn’t cared about that thirty percent in the slightest.
Was this really just a Japanese trading company whose name he hadn’t even heard before?
In the afternoon, the American delegation had used CoCom right to his face to pressure the other party. By evening, Harper was called out for a brief moment, returned looking like a completely different person, had the delegation withdraw on the spot, and even urged him to sign with the Japanese before leaving. All told, it hadn’t even been a single day.
Just who was standing behind a company that could make Washington change its tune within a single day?
Belov didn’t dare think any further. He shoved the aid program overview left by the Americans into a drawer and adjusted his tie.
“Quick, invite him up—no, I will go down and receive him myself.”
Belov personally went downstairs and ushered Saeki into the office.
“Mr. Saeki, welcome, welcome.”
The director was all smiles, though his voice was somewhat tense, as he stepped ahead to pull out a chair for Saeki.
Saeki thanked him but was in no rush to sit. He first took off his coat and draped it over the chair back, set his briefcase on the table, and only then sat down unhurriedly.
From the moment he entered, a smile had remained on his face, just as polite as in the afternoon, but his gaze stayed fixed on Belov’s face without wavering for an instant.
Belov sat down opposite him, clasping his hands on the desk.
“Regarding your company’s cooperation proposal, after thorough discussion, we believe the previous terms were actually quite reasonable.”
“Is that so?”
Saeki tilted his head slightly, offering only those three words.
“Of course.”
Belov nodded hurriedly. The heating in the office wasn’t very strong, yet a fine layer of sweat had beaded on his brow.
“Especially regarding the resettlement arrangements for researchers and their families, I believe your company has shown tremendous sincerity.”
“Then, the thirty percent you mentioned this afternoon…”
Saeki didn’t finish his sentence, merely looking at him with a smile.
“Ah, that was merely a preliminary opinion during our discussions.”
Belov waved his hand in haste, his movement so abrupt that he nearly knocked over the teacup beside him.
“We later recalculated carefully and felt there was no need for any adjustments for now.”
“The original cooperation funding was just fine.”
Saeki nodded, not in the least surprised by this answer.
“And the resignation procedures for personnel from the special department?”
“Those can naturally be handled.”
This time, Belov practically blurted it out ahead of time.
“As long as the necessary document reviews are completed, the institute will actively cooperate. The specific personnel transfer matters can also be discussed directly between your company and the relevant researchers.”
“That is wonderful.”
Saeki gave a slight nod and retrieved the pre-prepared cooperation agreement from his briefcase.
The edges of the paper were crisp and neat.
The terms on it were identical to the version submitted to the institute in November. Taken away untouched in the afternoon, it was brought back untouched in the evening, without a single word changed.
Belov stared at the document, his lips moving, but in the end, nothing came out.
“Since your institute has no further objections…”
Saeki gently pushed the document before Belov, then took out a fountain pen, uncapped it, and laid it across the contract with the barrel facing him.
“Well then, Mr. Director.”
The smile on his face deepened by a fraction.
“Let us sign the contract today.”