As they stepped out of the airport and saw Martin's blue Bugatti parked by the curb, Haya laughed again.
"What? After trying it once, have you fallen in love with Bugatti?"
"Indeed. So, Princess, would you like to experience the thrill of high-speed driving again?"
Haya rolled her eyes at Martin.
The memory of last year's humiliating accident—when she wet herself out of fear—was still fresh in her mind.
It was all Martin's fault!
Even now, just seeing him triggered a subconscious reaction in her bladder.
And the moment she got into his car, the urge intensified.
Clenching her thighs, Haya muttered, "No speeding. No racing. Got it?"
"Ok, no speeding, no racing," Martin agreed.
On the road, Martin deliberately took a scenic coastal route, with the ocean on one side and mountains on the other. The view was breathtaking.
"This is wonderful. I love this place—mountains, water, lush green trees. It's so much better than the desert, where one gust of wind fills your mouth with sand."
Haya rolled down the window, letting the sea breeze blow against her face, a look of contentment spreading across it.
Martin said, "The vast desert has its own unique beauty. You've just grown tired of it."
"Is that so? Since you love the desert so much, would you like to go back?"
Thinking she was joking, Martin shrugged. "I wouldn't mind."
Haya chuckled. "Do you know about Iraq's West Qurna-1 oil field?"
Martin froze and turned to her, his expression suddenly serious. "What do you mean?"
In the past, he wouldn't have known anything about the West Qurna-1 oil field. But ever since he decided to bid on the Sirtan oil field in the UAE, he had started researching the industry thoroughly.
West Qurna-1 was one of Iraq's largest oil fields. Its crude oil output currently reached 450,000 to 500,000 barrels per day—far surpassing that of the Sirtan field.
The proven reserves of West Qurna-1 were estimated between 10 billion and 15 billion barrels, with a projected peak daily output of 1 million barrels.
To put it in perspective, the total proven reserves of all oil fields controlled by the Texas Oil Group—America's largest oil company—only amounted to around 10 billion barrels.
West Qurna-1 was the Texas Oil Group's most coveted prize in this war.
At this moment, the Texas Oil Group had yet to secure its stake in West Qurna-1.
With Iraq's new government still in the process of being formed, nothing had been finalized.
This was a moment of political limbo in Iraq.
After a brief pause, Martin asked, "Who's selling the oil field? Saddam's government? And if I buy it, will the new government refuse to recognize the deal?"
Haya didn't hide anything. "There is some risk. The shares are currently being sold by Iraq's old government, but calling them the 'old government' isn't entirely accurate. The UN hasn't officially declared Saddam's regime illegal—otherwise, U.S. and British forces wouldn't be the only troops in Iraq."
"So, any agreements they make are still recognized by the international community. Any contracts signed with them hold legal validity."
"In short, buying the oil field isn't a problem. The question is—can you hold onto it?"
"Martin, what's your level of influence in the U.S. government? Do you have politicians who can sway high-level decisions?"
"Haya, how much of the oil field is Saddam's government selling? And for how much?"
"32.7%—the maximum stake legally allowed. As for the price..."
Haya thought for a moment. "They're asking for quite a bit—about $4 billion."
Martin blinked. What a coincidence. I was just wondering how to spend my spare $4 billion!
He then asked, "How did they find me?"
Haya smirked. "They didn't specifically seek you out. They reached out to the UAE, Saudi Arabia, and other Middle Eastern nations, asking them to find potential buyers."
"So... I have competitors?"
Haya shrugged. "Seems like it. But not many companies can casually shell out $4 billion for an oil field, and Texas Oil Group has already been ruled out. Saddam's government will never hand over benefits to their enemy."
Martin nodded. "Set up the meeting."
Haya was surprised. "You've already decided? You don't want to think it over?"
Martin laughed. "What's there to think about? A feast this big—I'd be a fool not to take a bite."
Martin hadn't expected that picking up his foreign girlfriend would lead to such an important piece of news.
Maybe being a good person really does bring good fortune.
He immediately contacted David Scott, who was still in the UAE, and instructed him to initiate contact with the Iraqis.
Meanwhile, he spent the next week enjoying himself with Haya in Los Angeles.
"This place is great. What do you think about me buying a house here?"
Just as Martin was preparing to fly to the UAE, Haya brought it up casually.
Martin had no objections. "If you like it, go for it."
"Alright, then I will." Haya winked playfully.
Martin had no idea that when he returned from the Middle East, he would find a new neighbor living not far from his Beverly Hills estate.
Martin boarded his private jet and left.
Haya didn't accompany him—she was still having too much fun.
Upon landing at Abu Dhabi Airport, he quickly got into David Scott's car.
"David, how's the situation with Iraq?"
"Their side has agreed to meet with us. In fact, we at Campbell Oil are probably the first company to make contact with the old government."
Martin nodded. Haya's information had arrived at just the right time.
"The Iraqis likely have political demands as well, but they didn't mention them over the phone. My guess is they're looking for political asylum, which is probably why they didn't sell the oil field to a Middle Eastern country."
"Political asylum, huh? That means they're directly opposing Bush and the U.S.-U.K. alliance. In that case, we won't have too many competitors."
Seeing his boss completely unfazed, David Scott finally relaxed.