George Bush’S Great America [EN]: Chapter 69

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December 25th.

Today was Christmas, a holiday that had become almost universally celebrated. Kim Gap-hwan recalled that in 2019, Christmas celebrations and events had significantly decreased, but in 2001, any country that observed Christmas was experiencing a boom in festivities.

This was especially true in the United States, where it was common for people to take about a week off from Christmas to New Year’s Day. President Bush also announced that he would suspend his travels and take a three-day vacation at home during this period.

He stated that he wanted to prioritize spending time with his family, which he had supposedly neglected due to his duties to the nation. This gesture seemed to resonate with the public, portraying him as a family-oriented president.

While that was his official reason, Bush actually spent his vacation lifting weights in his personal gym, eating, and resting. Laura Bush began to find her husband, who was becoming increasingly toned and muscular, even more attractive.

While some women might not be fond of muscles, Laura Bush admired everything her husband did. Consequently, the more defined Bush’s muscles became, the more intense her gaze grew.

However, the focus this time wouldn’t be on the United States, Europe, or even Russia, but on Malaysia in Southeast Asia. Specifically, an illegal smuggling port located in the most remote part of Malaysia was the center of attention.

At the entrance of the smuggling port, figures clad in tattered, grime-stained rags appeared. They cautiously entered, looking around warily. The man at the front addressed the guard standing at the port’s entrance.

The man’s name was al-Zarqawi.

“Did you feed the seagulls the cookies?”

After confirming the password, the guard silently gestured towards the building behind him. The building was a simple shanty, but uniquely constructed from stacked shipping containers.

There were five three-story buildings in total. On the roofs, heavy machine guns and RPGs [rocket-propelled grenade launchers], clearly illegal replicas, were faintly visible. The guards’ firearms were mismatched: some carried Type 56s (Chinese AK-47 clones), others had M16s with broken handguards or wooden buttstock replacements, and some even wielded StG44s [a German assault rifle from World War II].

It was difficult to ascertain, but the M16 held by the tall man had an unusually long barrel, suggesting it was either a modified civilian version or a completely transformed firearm, akin to the Ship of Theseus [a philosophical paradox about identity and change].

“Welcome. But I was told to expect twenty people, yet there are only three? Why is that?”

As they entered the container disguised as a shanty, they were greeted by the person in charge of the smuggling port, who had directly contracted with al-Zarqawi.

“There was a slight mishap.”

In reality, two people had suffered fatal accidents, falling from a steep mountain and breaking their necks. Ten others had served as bait to distract Gurkha soldiers in Nepal [Nepalese soldiers known for their bravery and skill], and the remaining five had succumbed to disease.

It was due to their lack of faith.

“Yes, very slight…”

Al-Zarqawi, reminded of death, subtly smirked.

The man, who had been carefully observing al-Zarqawi, unconsciously frowned. Al-Zarqawi’s face was scarred and distorted, like ripples in the desert heat. He wore tattered rags, and one eye was clearly a poorly made prosthetic, lacking even a pupil and showing only a white sclera.

“Frankly, I don’t care about that. Our contract is to get you to the Philippines safely.”

The owner of the smuggling port scrutinized al-Zarqawi before speaking.

“So, I’ll provide you with a change of clothes and some necessities.”

What else could he say? It was more out of exasperation than pity. He couldn’t tolerate the stench without plugging his nose. He wanted to shower him immediately and send him to the Philippines in at least presentable clothes.

Otherwise, the ship would reek of rotting corpses!

“Anyway, since the number of people has decreased, there’s no need to divide into four groups. But as I said, there will be no refunds even if the number of people decreases. Consider the necessities a complimentary service.”

Unable to endure it any longer, he issued an eviction order and ushered al-Zarqawi out. Then, he began to contemplate the bounty on al-Zarqawi’s head: $25 million from the United States, which was closely monitoring the situation; 50 million euros from the EU, equally eager; and 2 billion rubles from Russia, just as determined. No matter where he turned him in, it was an amount the smuggling port operator could never accumulate in his lifetime.

Moreover, he was the only one who knew al-Zarqawi’s true identity.

He could abandon his business and report that the al-Zarqawi they were desperately seeking was right here. They would be willing to protect him for the sake of the cause, regardless of his past actions or any threats he faced.

“Shit!”

The problem was that they would undoubtedly take it back later. It was almost certain that the period during which he could live comfortably with the bounty would be short-lived. He could easily be “suicided” rather than receive the reward, or more likely, become an innocent bystander during the arrest.

His business was just beginning to flourish. He wondered if this would trigger a full-scale investigation. Initially, he thought he was dealing with minor rebels, but the target was al-Zarqawi, who was demanding passage to the Philippines in exchange for his vast wealth.

He hadn’t heard from him until today, so he assumed he could pocket the money, but he had arrived after all, damn it.

“Josef! Josef! You good-for-nothing! Get up here now!”

The owner of the smuggling port, burdened by conflicting emotions, shouted for his transportation manager.

“Why! Boss! What’s going on!”

It’s said that a calm person is scarier when they get angry. Josef, who had never seen his boss so agitated, was startled and hurried up the clearly dilapidated iron stairs, which creaked like a tap dance.

“Prepare the Oscar!”

The Oscar was a leisure semi-submarine, heavily modified. The seats and unnecessary parts were removed, and the paint was deliberately left untouched. No matter how hard they tried to paint it black, it would only attract the coast guard’s attention. Those lazy bastards wouldn’t even notice such a submarine passing by, assuming rich people were just having fun.

In any case, the Oscar could accommodate up to 20 people and was secretly used to smuggle people, drugs, and even corpses, becoming a significant player in the underworld.

Frankly, the Oscar was their only discreet vessel.

“The Oscar? That thing needs servicing!”

“Why! I told you to keep December 25th open!”

“B-Boss, you sent word that the schedule had changed. It just got back! If we sail as it is, it might sink.”

Ah! Only then did he remember that he had arbitrarily assumed al-Zarqawi wouldn’t come and had sent the Oscar out three days ago to smuggle a large quantity of drugs.

‘Damn it!’

“Then do it right away! I’m telling you to do it! Get it done somehow by today!”

Still, it was better than nothing. At least the Oscar was docked at the port.

“Damn it, what’s wrong! Boss! Is the cargo that just came in some kind of plague?”

A plague! A plague! Well said! Not just a plague, but a Pandora’s box [a source of great and unexpected troubles] containing the irony of potentially making him rich! At least the down payment he received from al-Zarqawi was $3 million, a relatively safe asset. He had found it amusing to see the terrorist leader hand over a black briefcase full of American dollars.

Looking at it now, the owner of the smuggling port was the one being played, and his future was uncertain regardless!

“If we don’t send him off by today, you and I will be in big trouble!”

“Then can’t we just use another ship?”

“Without getting caught! Without getting caught! Don’t you know the basics of smuggling? Get a grip, get a grip, get a grip! Josef! If that gets caught, it’s not just our business that’s in trouble, it’s our lives!”

“Damn it! Why did you accept such cargo!”

The boss, wanting to avoid any more terrible moments, also evicted Josef.

The Oscar, having undergone emergency repairs at a makeshift shipyard, managed to set sail from the port nine hours later, crammed with al-Zarqawi and two subordinates, along with food, some firearms, and drugs.

The boss felt uneasy as he watched the Oscar wobble and disappear over the horizon.

“Please don’t get caught on the way. Please don’t get caught.”

He begged repeatedly.

* * *

‘Of course, of course! The three major exercises are measured by ordinary people too! Absolutely!’

He doesn’t.

“Hoo!”

The exercise regimen Bush had initially planned, focused on aerobics, had vanished. Now, only Bush remained, driven by the personal trainers he had hired, measuring his progress in squats, deadlifts, and bench presses.

No matter how delicious the chef made the diet, it was still a diet with only essential nutrients, plenty of dietary fiber, and protein, making it difficult to avoid monotony. However, Bush was somehow enduring it.

He already had a well-built physique, so he could easily do 300 repetitions, and he was already aiming for 400. But no matter how fit Bush was, he was still aging, making 400 a distant dream.

“Ugh!”

“Don’t give up! Just three more!”

It was a rare sight to see the President of the United States engaging in what appeared to be a middle-aged man’s workout tantrum, lifting a heavy barbell up and down. The trainers realized that the President wasn’t just wasting money but was serious about his fitness goals, so they focused their extensive knowledge and skills on George Bush alone.

They speculated that there might be a political motive behind his desire for a more imposing physique, but they refrained from delving too deeply and concentrated on cultivating Bush’s body, drawing upon all their expertise. Because he was such a dedicated student, they often learned while teaching Bush.

It wasn’t that they learned directly from Bush, but rather that they gained insights through their interactions with him.

“That’s it for today!”

‘Protein shake after exercise! This is when it tastes the best!’

Above all, it was rewarding to feel his body improving day by day. Laura Bush had advised him not to focus too much on national affairs and to reflect on himself, and he believed this was what she meant.

Of course, that wasn’t entirely accurate. Her advice was about paying closer attention to the family, but since Laura Bush was satisfied, it wasn’t entirely wrong to interpret it that way.

‘For 400!’

It was the day when he created another goal in addition to making America a strong country.