Tech Giants: Starting from Bankrupt Companies

159: Chapter 159 Riyadh’s Billion-Dollar GambleJanuary 3rd, 10:00 AM, Riyadh Royal Palace underground conference room.

This was a room completely shielded from electronic signals. The walls were half-a-meter thick concrete reinforced with lead plates, and the door was a bank vault-grade hydraulic sealed door. Seven people sat in the room: King Salman of Saudi Arabia (holographic projection), Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, Prince Fahd, the Minister of Finance, the Minister of National Defense, the Director of General Intelligence, and—joining via encrypted video—Su Chen.

”Mr. Su,” the King’s holographic projection spoke, his voice aged but powerful, ”We have studied the proposal you submitted. A 10 billion USD low-interest loan, with an annual interest rate of 1.5% and a term of 20 years. This has never happened in the history of Saudi Arabia.”

Su Chen bowed slightly in the video: ”Your Majesty, this is not a loan, it is an investment. Every factory that Spark builds in Saudi Arabia will create jobs, train talent, and bring technology. Twenty years from now, the value of these factories will far exceed 10 billion USD.”

”But we require a controlling stake,” the Minister of National Defense interjected. ”Saudi Arabia must hold 51% of the Jeddah Aerospace Base.”

”Agreed,” Su Chen answered crisply, ”but the core technical team must be dispatched by Spark, and key technical positions must be appointed by Spark. Additionally, Spark shall have veto power over product export approvals.”

These terms were harsh, but everyone in the room knew why—Spark could not allow its most advanced technology to spread without control.

Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman looked at Fahd: ”Brother, what do you think?”

Fahd stood up and walked to the sand table in the center of the room—it was not a sand table, but a three-dimensional holographic map of the entire Saudi Arabia. He used a gesture to zoom in on the Jeddah region:

”Father, gentlemen, I personally went to the site in Jeddah. It is 8 square kilometers of flat desert, 15 kilometers from Jeddah Port, and 8 kilometers from King Abdullah University of Science and Technology. What is to be built here is not a simple assembly plant.”

He pulled up the planning blueprint: ”Phase One: Drone assembly line, with an annual output of 30,000 ’Thunderbird’ series and 50,000 ’Wasp’ series. Phase Two: Fighter aircraft composite parts production line, providing wings, vertical stabilizers, and skins for Chengdu Aircraft Industry Group’s J-10CE and future J-31. Phase Three: Aero-engine test bench—this is what we are most lacking.”

He turned to Su Chen: ”Su, is Chengdu Aircraft Industry Group really willing to transfer some composite material technology?”

In the video, Su Chen nodded: ”Chengdu Aircraft Industry Group has already agreed to establish an ’Aviation Materials Joint Laboratory’ at the Jeddah base. Materials experts from Xidian University, Beihang University, and AVIC will come in rotations to mentor Saudi students. But the prerequisite is that the intellectual property rights of all research results will be shared by both parties.”

”Agreed,” the Crown Prince made the final decision immediately. ”The Ministry of National Defense will draft the agreement immediately. Additionally, at the Riyadh tank and armored vehicle base, I want to see the first batch of ’Spark Armored Vehicles’ roll off the line within six months.”

Fahd continued: ”The shipyard base in Jizan is even more critical. On the Red Sea coast, we plan to build two 100,000-ton dry docks. The initial goal is to build 1,500-ton light frigates with technical support from China—not just buying blueprints, but joint design, adapted to the special hydrological conditions of the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf.”

He zoomed in on the Jizan map: ”Here, in the future, we must be able to build submarines. Not now, but five years from now. By then, we must have the capability to maintain, upgrade, and even build conventionally powered submarines.”

This sentence made the room quiet for a few seconds. Submarines—this was strategic naval equipment.

The King’s holographic projection spoke slowly: ”Mr. Su, is China willing to help Saudi Arabia possess the capability to build submarines?”

”Yes,” Su Chen’s answer remained brief, ”but in phases. Phase one: help Saudi Arabia establish a submarine maintenance base. Phase two: transfer some subsystem technology. Phase three... depending on the situation.”

This was already a groundbreaking commitment. The Saudi high-level officials present all understood that this meant China regarded Saudi Arabia as a true strategic partner.

”Then it is settled,” the King said finally. ”Fahd, you are in full charge. The 10 billion USD will arrive today; when can Spark’s technical team arrive?”

Fahd looked at Su Chen.

”The first batch of 200 people is already on the plane,” Su Chen said. ”Including materials scientists, mechanical engineers, and production line designers. They have brought three months of supplies and are prepared to camp in the desert.”

The King nodded, and the holographic projection slowly disappeared.

The meeting ended, but Fahd stayed behind. He turned off all communication equipment, ensured the room was completely isolated, and then said to Su Chen:

”Su, there is one more thing. The first batch of 300 Chinese instructors for ’Desert Shield’ will arrive this afternoon. Who is leading the team?”

In the video, Su Chen rarely smiled: ”It is Leng Feng.”

”Leng Feng.” Fahd smiled. ”He previously served as a lieutenant colonel in the Langya Special Forces Brigade. He brought his old subordinates, all tough guys who ranked at the top in international special forces competitions.”

Su Chen was silent for a few seconds: ”He is a good soldier, but he can be impulsive and will need someone to assist him in managing Desert Shield.”

”I will arrange a good partner for him,” Fahd said. ”Do you know why he left the military?” Su Chen said: ”It was because of the demolition in his hometown; the developer hired gangsters to break his father’s leg. He went back to confront them and accidentally beat the foreman into a vegetative state.”

”The military protected him, but he could no longer stay. A person like this has fire in his heart and needs a place to let it burn. ’Desert Shield’ is his brazier.”

Su Chen sighed: ”Then I will leave Desert Shield to you. Remember, this is a private security force, not an army. Their rules of engagement must be clear—protect, do not attack; defend, do not invade.”

”I understand.”

The video cut off. Fahd stood alone in front of the holographic map, watching the three light points of Jeddah, Riyadh, and Jizan gradually light up on the map of Saudi Arabia.

These three points would form the triangular pillars of Saudi Arabia’s future defense industry.

And he, must ensure this triangle was indestructible.

January 5th, outside Riyadh, the former royal hunting ground had now become the training base for ”Desert Shield.”

At 3:00 PM, the temperature was still as high as 35 degrees. On the training ground, 3,000 retired soldiers from 15 countries stood in formation. They wore the uniformly issued desert camouflage, but their postures, temperaments, and gazes were vastly different—there was the arrogance of former members of the Kommando Spezialkräfte (KSK) of the German Bundeswehr, the coldness of former British SAS, the ruggedness of former Russian Alpha Group, as well as ordinary retired soldiers from Africa, Eastern Europe, and Southeast Asia.

On the high platform, Leng Feng watched this ragtag army, his face devoid of any expression.

At 32, he had the typical lean and tough physique of a special forces soldier, but a scar on his left cheek extending from the corner of his eye to his jawline made him look particularly ferocious. That scar was left from a battle during a secret mission.

”Attention—”

He shouted it once each in English, Russian, and Arabic. The people below moved, but it was far from neat.

Leng Feng jumped off the high platform, walked to the front of the queue, and from the first one, began to scrutinize them one by one. His steps were slow, and his gaze scraped over everyone’s face like a scalpel.

He stopped when he reached a white man nearly two meters tall. This man was a former member of the German Federal Police GSG 9, affiliated with the German Federal Police, specializing in domestic counter-terrorism and hostage rescue (such as the classic rescue operation of the 1977 Mogadishu hijacking incident), and was a benchmark for police special forces worldwide.

”Name.” Leng Feng asked in English.

”John McCarthy, sir!” The big man puffed out his chest.

”Why did you come here?”

”For the money, sir! The salary here is 1.5 times what I made in the GSG 9 unit!”

A few low laughs came from the queue. After all, they were mercenaries; talking about money was not shameful.

Leng Feng nodded, then suddenly struck lightning-fast with his left hand toward John’s throat—it was a killing blow. John instinctively blocked, his right hand grabbing Leng Feng’s wrist.

But Leng Feng’s right hand was already pressed against John’s ribs, his fingertips locked onto a certain acupoint.

”Reaction speed 0.3 seconds, passing,” Leng Feng released his hand. ”But when you blocked, your lower stance was loose. If I were an enemy, you would be lying on the ground by now.”

He turned to face everyone: ”I know why you came here. Money, adventure, searching for new meaning... anything goes. But I tell you, from now on, you have only one identity—a soldier of ’Desert Shield’.”

He walked back to the high platform: ”The training syllabus here integrates the essence of the special forces from seven countries: China, the US, Russia, the UK, France, and Israel. We not only teach you how to kill, but more importantly, how to save lives, how to negotiate, and how to complete missions in complex environments.”

”We are a security company, not an army. This means our rules of engagement are more complex—when you can open fire, when you must endure, when to retreat, when to hold your ground to the death. These judgments are more important than marksmanship.”

He pulled up a projection: ”Therefore, in the next three months, your training will be divided into three phases. Phase One: Basic skills—shooting, combat, driving, and first aid. Everyone must reach the A-level standard. Those who don’t, get out.”

”Phase Two: Professional specialization—assault trooper, sniper, demolitionist, communications soldier, medic, negotiator. Everyone will be assigned a role based on the test results.”

”Phase Three: Team operations—12-man squad coordination, simulating real mission scenarios: VIP protection, facility guarding, hostage rescue, regional control.”

Someone in the crowd raised their hand; it was a former member of the French GIGN: ”Commander, what kind of missions will we take?”

”Good question.” Leng Feng pulled up a list. ”Missions currently contracted: First, provide perimeter security for oil fields in eastern Saudi Arabia. Second, provide overall security for the newly built industrial zone at Jeddah Port. Third, provide close protection for Chinese technical personnel traveling to and from Saudi Arabia.”

He paused: ”Missions we may take in the future: UN-authorized peacekeeping operations, overseas asset protection for multinational corporations, armed escort for humanitarian relief. But we will not take any active offensive missions, and we will not intervene in the internal conflicts of any country. This is the red line; whoever touches it dies.”

The queue quieted down. These veterans all understood what such rules meant—higher moral requirements, more complex judgment, and greater danger.

”Finally, let’s talk about compensation.” Leng Feng enlarged the contract terms. ”Base monthly salary: 15,000 USD for regular members, 20,000 USD for technical positions, 30,000 USD for squad leaders. Mission allowances are extra, and there is no cap for high-risk missions. Disability pension: up to 1 million USD. Death benefit: up to 2 million USD, with the family receiving 50% of the salary for life.”

”But—” his eyes turned cold, ”if you violate the rules of engagement, if you leak secrets, if you desert in the face of battle... the punishment will also be the highest. We will hunt you to the ends of the earth.”

After finishing, he pointed to the east side of the training ground: ”Now, 5-kilometer cross-country run, 30 minutes is the passing time. Those who exceed it don’t get dinner tonight. Start!”

Three thousand people surged out of the training ground like a tide, kicking up billowing dust in the desert.

Leng Feng stood in place, watching those backs. His deputy, Ivan from the former Russian Vympel unit, walked over and handed him a cigarette.

”Commander, do you think these people can be trained?”

Leng Feng took the cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag: ”They are all veterans with a good foundation. But that is also the problem—habits are hard to change. The individual heroism of the Americans, the recklessness of the Russians, the laxity of the French... it is not easy to twist them into a single rope.”

”As for your brother...” Ivan asked tentatively.

Leng Feng’s hand paused. His brother, Leng Jun, had joined the French Foreign Legion five years ago and was now executing a mission in Mali. The two brothers had not been in contact for three years.

”He is in the French Foreign Legion, and I am in ’Desert Shield’.” Leng Feng exhaled a puff of smoke. ”Each serving their own master, that’s just how it is.”

But Ivan noticed that his commander’s fingers were gripping the cigarette very tightly, and the cigarette paper was crumpled.

Outside the training ground, Fahd sat in an off-road vehicle, watching all this through the monitors. He said to the assistant beside him:

”Leng Feng is a talent, but also a bomb. If used well, he can forge a sharp sword for us. If used poorly...”

”Prince, should we send someone to watch him?”

”No need.” Fahd shook his head. ”True warriors need trust, not surveillance. Tell the Finance Department that any training equipment Leng Feng wants must be in place within three days. Any talent he wants must be poached globally.”

He took one last look at the lonely figure on the training ground and closed the car window.

The convoy drove away, kicking up dust.

In the desert, the flag of ”Desert Shield” was raised for the first time—on the shield-shaped emblem, an eagle’s claw held an olive branch and a sword.

Peace and force, protection and deterrence—under this flag, a balance must be found.

And what Leng Feng had to do was to find that balance point.