After Victoria left, Ross, a Boeing sales representative, handed over a complete BBJ MAX business jet price list and said with a smile, "Speaker Ribbs, thank you for your trust in Boeing."
Ribbs took the quotation and glanced at it.
Airframe acquisition cost: $102 million (including base platform and ballistic/EMP protection kit)
2. Annual fixed expenses:
Crew salaries: $2 million (including salaries and insurance for captain, co-pilot, and engineer); Maintenance fund: $7 million (reserve for regular airframe inspections and engine overhauls); Hangar rental: $800,000 (VIP hangar at New York's Teterboro Airport)
Insurance: US$1.2 million (all risks including war clause)
3. Single flight cost (Chicago → New York example):
Fuel: $38,000; Landing/Navigation Fees: $12,000; Crew Allowance/Meals: $5,000
4. Customized additions (estimated): Command center system: US$18 million (military-grade encrypted communications/satellite relay); Crew cabin modification: US$3 million.
Total annual expenditure: approximately US$21 million.
I thought a private jet would cost tens of millions, but I didn't expect it would cost $100 million just to buy the plane. And then there's the annual operating and maintenance costs, which are another $21 million.
Even if this plane is not used, the annual cost of just lying there without flying is enough to equip an elite special forces team!
Reebs originally thought that he could spend the billions of dollars in his foundation at will, but now it seems that a single airplane has cost him more than $100 million.
Especially considering the United States' military spending of tens of billions or even hundreds of billions of dollars, that amount of money is nothing.
Although this private jet is very expensive, it is a matter of face and the money must be spent.
Ribs nodded and confirmed, "No problem, we're definitely going to take this plane."
"Okay, Mr. Speaker!" Ross quickly took out a thick stack of contracts and placed them on the table. "Please sign them. Our technical team will fly to Chicago within 72 hours."
Reeves casually picked up the pen at hand and waved it a few times, then signed his name on the last page of the document.
"Great, Mr. Speaker! I'll arrange for logistics technicians right away!" Ross took the contract excitedly, thanked him repeatedly, and turned to leave the office.
"Alfred." Reeves' voice returned to its usual cold and hard tone.
"Yes, Speaker," Alfred replied respectfully.
"Follow up on all the subsequent details and finalize the modification plan." He paused, tapping the windowpane with his fingertips. "Especially the command center on the plane. It should be built to Navy SEAL standards with thickened armor plating and shielding. It can be built in an underground hangar or a secret safe house. Also, the interior of the plane... It should feel like a wood-burning fireplace, with a combination of solid wood and genuine leather, like a private club, but it must be the highest quality and most comfortable."
"Understood, Speaker," Alfred responded immediately. "I will ensure that Boeing implements your wishes according to the standards of a 'strategic command platform' rather than a civilian airliner. Comfort and safety will meet the preset requirements."
"Yeah." Reeves nodded slightly. "Ask Frank to transfer the money from the foundation. Tell him, immediately! I only care about one thing - speed."
"Understood. Speed is our priority," Alfred reiterated. "Within the framework of the contract, I will minimize Boeing's production, testing, and airworthiness certification processes. We want to see the aircraft parked in the VIP hangar at Chicago Teterboro Airport as quickly as possible. Do you need the Black Rabbit Group logo painted on the nose or tail?"
"That's not necessary." Ribs said firmly, "It's better to keep a low profile when traveling."
"Okay, Speaker." Alfred quickly noted this detail. "After Boeing's technical team arrives in Chicago..."
"Okay, no need to go into details... I'm confident in you taking care of it." Reeves waved his hand, indicating that Alfred could go and deal with it immediately.
…
While Ribbs was buying a plane in Chicago and preparing to enjoy his own sky club, Kroon was busy in New York.
Outside a large abandoned slaughterhouse in Queens, New York, the smell of blood mixed with the smell of rust permeated the humid air.
Kron was lying in ambush outside with twelve of his trusted men. He half-crouched beneath the low wall, trembling slightly, not with fear, but with uncontrollable excitement.
The situation inside the slaughterhouse was clearly visible on the tactical tablet.
"Boss!" Eugene growled excitedly. "Not only are the Cerberus guys here, but the Brooklyn Latin Gang is all here too, right in there! What a gift from heaven!"
Kron's grin was fierce and greedy.
He clenched his fists so hard that the three thick rings on his knuckles almost dug into his flesh.
"Did you hear everything?" Kron's voice suddenly rose, filled with unquestionable fanaticism. "The Hellhound's lair! Those Brooklyn scum! Take them down! From tonight on, the New York underworld will have only one name—Kron!"
"Let's go!" Kruen shouted and strode towards the gate of the slaughterhouse.
Behind him, twelve silent and ferocious figures followed like ghosts.
They are all old brothers brought out from Chicago by Kroon himself. They were once outlaws on the streets of Chicago. Now in New York, they all have the glamorous title of "Senior Security Consultant of Black Rabbit".
As they approached the slaughterhouse's only entrance, Kron took a deep breath, and the cold air seemed to ignite a wildfire in his lungs.
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