"This 30% premium is an expedited production fee."
John's eyes went wide. He stared at David as if looking at some kind of bizarre mutant.
He couldn't believe it. This was the same small-time boss who used to grovel for orders worth a little over a hundred thousand US Dollars, and now he had the audacity to extort him so brazenly.
"Furthermore," David continued, "given the extreme strain on logistical resources within the state right now, you'll have to cover the shipping costs from the factory to the port yourselves. And you can't pay the freight charges in US Dollars."
"Then what do we use?" John asked instinctively.
"Alliance Notes."
David uttered the term.
"My fleet of trucks only accepts those. If you don't have any, go to the Alliance's exchange center and figure it out. That's your problem."
John shot to his feet, the movement so abrupt he nearly knocked over his chair.
He furiously threw the documents in his hand to the ground.
