Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt

Chapter 441: Chapter 206: Take a Different Path (Part 2)

"Then don’t let it leak."

Leo’s gaze sharpened, the unyielding aura of a leader emerging in full force.

"I’ll handle this deal. I’ll take the fall."

Murphy looked at Leo, a skeptical expression on his face. "You? Leo, don’t get me wrong, I know you’re very capable, but you’re not even a Senator. You’re just a Mayor. What makes you think those K Street crocodiles will sit down and listen to you?"

"Because I’m the Mayor of Pittsburgh." Leo’s voice wasn’t loud, but every word carried weight. "Because I hold the Industrial Revival Alliance in my hands, along with the contracts for over a dozen cities in Pennsylvania and the livelihoods of tens of thousands of workers."

"The executive power I wield is far greater than you imagine."

"You don’t need to be the one at the table. You just need to open the door for me."

"John."

Leo reached out and placed a hand on Murphy’s shoulder.

"You’re a Senator now, a big shot. You need to learn how to use your connections, not be shackled by them."

"Sanders doesn’t like them, that’s true. But what Sanders dislikes even more is losing."

"If we can’t get the money and lose the bill, *that* would be the greatest betrayal of the Progressives."

"As long as we win, even if Sanders finds out we’re making deals with people from K Street, he won’t say a thing."

"Now, take out your phone."

"Call them."

Murphy looked at Leo.

In the young man’s eyes, he saw not a trace of hesitation, only a determination to crush any rule that stood in the way of victory.

He suddenly realized that even though he was now a Senator, even though he had his own office in Washington and his own team of staff, when faced with a life-or-death crisis like this, he still instinctively wanted to rely on the young man before him, who was thirty years his junior.

Between Sanders and Leo, he instinctively chose the latter.

’Is this what a leader is?’

Murphy asked himself.

Even though he was just a Mayor negotiating with top-tier lobbyists who wouldn’t normally give a local official the time of day, Leo showed no sign of stage fright. In fact, he acted as if it were perfectly natural.

The delusions of power from when he was first elected, that illusory confidence built on flattery, had completely faded away at this moment.

When the storm truly hits, the only real leader is the one who can guide everyone through it alive.

Murphy steeled his resolve.

As long as he could secure this money and solidify his base in the Rust Belt, his Senate seat would be rock-solid.

Following Leo was dangerous, but it meant he could win.

Murphy took out his phone.

His finger swiped across the screen, finally stopping on a name: "Stevens."

"Alright."

Murphy’s voice had regained some of its composure, and even held a hint of ruthlessness.

"If you want to meet the Demon, then I’ll open the gates of hell for you."

He pressed the call button.

The phone rang twice before it connected.

Murphy adopted a familiar, confident, and even slightly arrogant tone.

It was the special mask he had learned to wear on Capitol Hill when dealing with these top lobbyists.

"Hey, Stevens, it’s me, John Murphy."

A low chuckle came from the other end of the line.

"John, long time no see. I was just watching your party’s infighting on TV. That kid from Pittsburgh is pretty interesting."

Murphy ignored the other man’s taunt and cut straight to the chase.

"Listen, old pal. I’ve got a very interesting bill here, concerning a two-billion-US-Dollar supply chain reorganization. I think your boss would be very interested in a few of its clauses, especially the parts about strategic material transport and defense industry production capacity reserves."

There was a moment of silence on the other end.

"John, I’d love to talk, but you know how it is." Stevens’s voice became strained. "You’re a Democrat, and what’s more, that Sanders you’ve got behind you is always calling for cuts to the defense budget."

"If the media caught my team sitting down to talk with your people, the Republican Party would kill me."

"This isn’t about party politics, Stevens. This is business," Murphy insisted.

"Sorry, John." Stevens’s voice was firm. "In this political climate, nothing is purely business. Especially not with you Progressives."

"Good luck."

*BEEP—*

The line went dead.

Murphy held his phone, the confident mask on his face instantly shattering, revealing his frustration.

"He refused," Murphy said to Leo. "Didn’t even give us a chance to talk."

Murphy sighed.

"I expected as much. The military-industrial complex is the core base of the Republican Party. They never have anything good to say about the Democratic Party, especially Progressives like us who’ve been branded as anti-war."

"And don’t forget the Second Amendment to the Constitution," Murphy added. "The guys in our party who are always shouting about gun control have completely alienated every single gun manufacturer. Getting them to support us now is next to impossible."

"This has little to do with the Second Amendment to the Constitution," Leo said, shaking his head. "Our Blue-collar Party caucus never intended to get tangled up with them on the gun control issue from the start. They refused because we can’t offer them the most direct benefits."

Roosevelt’s voice chimed in at the right moment. "Times have changed, Leo."

"Back in my day, Pittsburgh’s steel mills were the Pentagon’s backyard. Defense contracts supported hundreds of thousands of people. But over the past fifty years, with the advance of globalization, the military-industrial complex’s supply chains have also moved offshore."

"The precision chips, special alloys, and even the tank treads they need are no longer produced domestically. To them, the Rust Belt is no longer an indispensable strategic base, but more of a political liability that needs to be placated."

Leo looked at Murphy.

"They’re interested in the people at the National Security Council, in the Pentagon’s procurement list. We can’t exactly start a war that consumes massive amounts of conventional ammunition just to send them orders."

"But it doesn’t matter." Leo’s gaze remained calm. "If one path is blocked, we’ll just take another."

"What about the energy sector?"

Murphy hesitated for a moment.

"The energy giants also lean toward the Republican Party, but they’re a bit more pragmatic than the arms dealers."

"After all, electricity has to be sold to everyone, whether you’re red or blue."

"I’ll give it a try."

Murphy scrolled through his contacts and found another number.

"Hello, Sterling? This is John Murphy..."

This time, the call wasn’t immediately disconnected.

After some negotiation, Murphy hung up the phone.

He looked up at Leo and shook his phone.

"Done." A trace of excitement appeared on Murphy’s face. "It’s set. Tonight at eight, in the cigar room of the Adams Licorice Hotel."

Leo nodded and straightened Murphy’s slightly crooked tie.

"Well done, Senator."

"Now, wipe off your sweat and go back to playing the angry warrior fighting for the workers’ interests."

"See the act through to the end."

"As for tonight..."

"Leave it to me."