Nikos was right. Ahmed had told her they’d hired investigators to research the Quans, following them when they visited Kanzi. Their team knew exactly which perks the Chinese had promised the locals.
Given the Chinese tradition of addressing all the issues in the negotiation simultaneously, in no apparent order, patience would be crucial to keep things on an even keel. Ahmed had also shared that he didn’t want the Paris Industries team to be portrayed as stereotypically American—arrogant, risk-taking, and overly direct. That wouldn’t work here. Adaptation was a negotiator’s best asset. Today, Chinese traditions, African customs, and American business would collide—giving her a chance to study all the players in detail.
The Paris Industries table was positioned at the front left of the room, close to where the Kanzi dignitaries would soon file in for the opening ceremonies. The Quans headed for the Chinese National Oil Company table on the right, Chi in a dark suit and Xi-Ping sporting a black sheath that left little to the imagination. The Chinese beauty looked at Nikos like a piece of meat she’d like to devour. Well, by the end of the day, Thea hoped Xi-Ping would have lost her appetite entirely. Ahmed had a few surprises planned.
Nikos leaned close. “I’m sure Father offered a large signing bonus and royalties—we can easily match the Quans in that domain. But Ahmed will need to avoid getting bogged down in the details. Because Chinese children learn symbols rather than letters for language, they develop a strong affinity for big-picture thinking. We must not fail to see the forest for the trees.”
Her brother’s insightful presence comforted her. She’d developed good intuition thanks to her work in K&R, but Nikos offered a uniquely qualified perspective, given his international business achievements. Negotiating the release of a hostage was a different kettle of fish than securing a billion-dollar, multinational contract.
“The pipeline Papa designed is a major advantage for us.” Paris Industries had the largest fleet of oil supertankers in the world, and her father planned to head west with the pipeline so he could use a port in Namibia to transport Kanzi oil to the world.
“Chi will counter that they have a more direct route through Zimbabwe.” Nikos’s gaze was intense.
“Zimbabwe is an unstable country. As in Nigeria, they’ll experience rebel attacks on the pipeline,” she said.
“The Zimbabwean government recently purchased a large shipment of military hardware from China, including a thirteen-million-dollar radar system, six Hongdu JL-8 jet aircraft, twelve JF-17 Thunder combat aircraft, and a hundred other military vehicles. I’d say they are securely positioned.”
“Where did you get this information?” she asked. Her brother had a keen eye on African politics, but this was something else entirely.
“People talk. I wouldn’t be surprised if Quan had visited President Mugabe and promised him the pipeline if China wins the bid. This relationship could be profitable for Kanzi, Zimbabwe, and China.”
That made sense. China and Zimbabwe had a relationship dating back to the 1970s, during the period of the Rhodesian Bush War. Robert Mugabe had tried to garner Soviet support for his Zimbabwe African National Union, but the Kremlin—already supplying arms to Joshua Nkomo’s Zimbabwe African People’s Union—turned him down. Instead, Mugabe had partnered with Beijing. The relationship with China was vital to Zimbabwe; with Mugabe’s record of human rights violations, no other international player would endorse an official relationship with the African nation. As a result, hundreds of millions of Chinese investment dollars poured into the country.
“Time for the opening ceremonies. Hope you had plenty of coffee.” She gave Nikos a brief smile. Growing up, they’d lived in several African countries, and one key cultural difference between Americans and Africans rested in the way they perceived time. Monochronic Americans favored schedules, agendas, and detailed communication. Polychronic cultures such as Kanzi’s chose to start and end meetings spontaneously, address several issues simultaneously, take ad hoc breaks, and use an informal approach of dialogue and information flowing freely. They would have to expect the unexpected and roll with it.
The Chinese would be up first, presenting their opening remarks and initial offer. A man wearing African robes glided into the room and positioned himself at the head table. He pounded a gavel, and a hush spread across the room. The Kanzi government bureaucrats filed in, including General Jemwa, Prime Minister Kimweri, and his brother-in-law, Bini Salam.
Let the negotiations begin.
Chapter Fifty-One
Rif hated that Nikos was at the head table. Christos would not like that at all. During long lunches with the oil billionaire, Rif remembered his ranting about keeping his son far, far away from his business. But now Christos was gone, and Nikos was swooping in.