novelSusiti Chapter 27 Greek Merchant Ships, the Empire's White Glove
Chapter 27 Greek Merchant Ships, the Empire's White Glove
In the square outside the palace, white doves circled down, pecking at the grains on the ground. Constantine stood by the window, watching Hardin's carriage disappear into a black dot in his sight. He knew that the blueprint for the future of the Greek navy, like a depth charge dropped into the Thames, was now stirring up a monstrous wave in London's political arena.
But this is not enough.
The lure of profit alone was not enough to persuade the British Empire's arrogant bankers and politicians to gamble their credibility on a nation on the verge of bankruptcy. The old fox of the Treasury, Wilby, would not give in easily. He, and the entire British Empire, needed an irresistible reason, one that concerned the very lifeblood of the empire.
As expected, the negotiations reached a stalemate.
Over the next few days, Sir Harding became a frequent visitor to the palace. His expression grew more somber each day, and the telegrams in his briefcase grew thicker and thicker.
"Your Highness, London's response is not encouraging." At yet another meeting, Sir Harding's face was weary, his eyes sunken. "That Sir Wilby of the Treasury... he... he thinks the commitment to the naval order is too distant, while the risk of Greek bankruptcy is imminent. He insists that the risk of sovereign guarantees is too high."
Harding's voice was somewhat hoarse; he tried his best to phrase his words more tactfully.
"They believe that even with guarantees, the total amount cannot exceed one million pounds. Moreover, the annual interest rate... cannot be lower than six percent."
One million pounds, at a 6% interest rate.
This was still charity, a charity tinged with arrogance and distrust. While better than the initial £500,000 Vulture Loan, it was still far from Constantine's goal. One million pounds wasn't even enough to repay the loans left by previous cabinets, let alone for the Industrial Revolution.
Constantine showed no disappointment or anger. He simply poured Sir Harding a cup of tea calmly, as if listening to something that had nothing to do with him.
"Sir, the weather in the Mediterranean has been quite nice lately," Constantine said casually, steer the conversation in a completely unrelated direction.
Harding was stunned for a moment, not understanding.
Constantine continued, "With the better weather, maritime trade becomes busier. I've heard that there have been several pirate attacks recently on the route from Egypt to Marseille. Some merchant ships flying the Italian flag have suffered heavy losses."
Sir Harding frowned. As the ambassador to Greece, he was intimately familiar with every development in the Mediterranean. Piracy had always been a persistent shadow over this golden waterway, especially rampant near the islands and coastlines controlled by the Ottoman Empire. While the Royal Navy was powerful, it was impossible to escort every merchant ship.
"Yes, Your Highness. Pirates are the common enemy of all maritime nations," Harding echoed.
Constantine picked up his teacup and gently blew on the floating tea leaves.
"Greece, despite its weak navy, possesses an advantage in another area that even its British friends cannot match."
He put down his teacup and looked directly at Harding, who immediately sat up straight, knowing that the main topic had arrived.
"We possess the second largest merchant fleet in Europe after yours," Constantine said softly, but every word struck Hardin's heart clearly. "Our captains and sailors are descendants of warriors who fought in the Battle of Salamis. They know every corner of the Mediterranean, every reef, and every current as well as their own backyard."
"They knew where to find the cheapest fresh water, which shipping routes could avoid sudden storms, and even more... which inconspicuous bays those pirates usually hid in."
Sir Harding's breath hitched for a moment. He began to realize what Constantine wanted to say.
Constantine stood up and slowly walked to the enormous map. This time, his gaze was no longer fixed on the railways and factories of the country, but on the azure Mediterranean Sea, the lifeline of the British Empire stretching from the Strait of Gibraltar to the Suez Canal.
"If," Constantine said calmly, but the words were enough to shake the entire Whitehall, "the British government is willing to provide a fair and sincere guarantee for Greece's 'National Recovery Bonds'."
He turned to look at Harding, his eyes gleaming with an all-knowing light.
"Then, I will personally facilitate the signing of a 20-year 'Priority Strategic Service Agreement' between the Greek Merchant Marine Association and your Royal Navy."
"Preferred Strategic Services Agreement!" Sir Harding practically spat out the words, his heart pounding uncontrollably.
Constantine held up one finger, his tone calm and unhurried.
"First: All British ships flying the Union Jack will automatically receive the highest priority service from the Hellenic Merchant Shipping Association upon entering the Eastern Mediterranean. Our fleet will provide your merchant ships with pilotage, escort, and cheap coal and fresh water supplies at cost."
"Cost price! Escort service!" These two words struck Harding like two heavy artillery shells. This meant that British shipping companies with operations worldwide would save millions of pounds annually in expenses and insurance costs!
Constantine extended his second finger.
"Secondly: our sailors will become Britain's intelligence network in the Mediterranean. They will provide all intelligence on pirates, the movements of enemy fleets, and unusual activity in ports, reporting directly to the British Mediterranean Fleet Command in Malta. A civilian intelligence network covering the entire eastern Mediterranean, comprised of tens of thousands of Greek sailors—Sir, what do you think its value is?"
Fine beads of sweat appeared on Harding's forehead. He was incapable of thinking. This wasn't an intelligence network; it was the eye of God!
"Third," Constantine's tone became more meaningful, "and most importantly, this agreement will ensure your country's absolute control over the Suez Canal."
Suez Canal!
Upon hearing that word, Sir Harding felt his blood freeze. That was the throat of the empire, the shortcut to India and the Far East! The cornerstone of the British Empire's hegemony!
"Sir, you know that controlling the canal is not just about controlling the waterway itself, but about controlling all the shipping routes leading to it," Constantine's voice was like a devil's whisper. "And Greek merchant ships and ports are the most crucial and indispensable nodes on this lifeline. With this agreement, any nation that wants to challenge the authority of the British Empire in these waters will first face the hostility of the entire Greek naval force."
"We will be your most loyal beacon, your most reliable supply depot, and... your cheapest unofficial fleet."
Naval contracts were "profits." They allowed British industrialists to make a fortune.
This "priority strategic service agreement" is all about "reputation" and "power"!
Without costing a single penny of British taxpayers, it could firmly bind Greece, a nation with an ancient maritime tradition and a vast populace, to the global chariot of the British Empire. It would use the blood and flesh of the Greeks to forge another layer of formidable armor for the empire's lifeline!
Sir Harding looked at Constantine, his eyes now completely changed.
He no longer viewed himself simply as a negotiating opponent. He began unconsciously to consider the two bargaining chips Constantine had offered from the perspective of maximizing the interests of the British Empire.
The naval order can appease domestic industrial giants and naval hawks.
The Suez "key" allows the Prime Minister and Foreign Secretary to boast to the Queen how they have consolidated the Empire's naval power at minimal cost!
These two conditions combined make for a political plan that is practically flawless!
Harding took a deep breath. He knew he could no longer be just a mouthpiece. He had to become a lobbyist, a promoter! He would use all his political wisdom and connections to persuade the short-sighted, arrogant bureaucrats in London to accept this "generous gift" from Athens!
"Your Highness," Hardin's voice trembled slightly as he solemnly picked up the draft of the "Strategic Services Agreement," as if holding the future of the empire in his hands, "I understand."
He didn't say another word, but simply bowed deeply to Constantine.
He turned and walked away quickly.
He had to send a telegram immediately, a telegram that used all the knowledge he had acquired in his life, the most vehement in terms of wording, the most rigorous in logic, and the most inflammatory!
Constantine watched his retreating figure, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips.
He has already played all his cards.
Now, all that's left is to wait and see what the outcome will be at that huge gambling table in London.
He walked slowly to the window and opened it.
A salty sea breeze swept into the room, stirring a corner of the map.