Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt

Chapter 443: Chapter 207: The Changing Vote (Part 2)

’Of course he knows your hands are tied. He’s not asking you to amend the law right now. He’s asking you to pick a side.’

’Look at who you are now, Leo. You’re not just the Mayor of Pittsburgh. You’re the leader of the entire Pennsylvania Industrial Revival Alliance. Behind you stand all the industrial workers of the Rust Belt, desperate for a comeback.’

’Sterling is using this to gauge your stance. You may not have a vote in Congress right now, but you have a voice.’

’When you represent hundreds of thousands of workers and shout that you need energy, that carries more weight than the votes of five Senators.’

’You’re more influential than you think, kid.’

’Besides, they’re looking at the long game. They know you’re definitely going to Washington in the future. This is an early venture investment. They’re betting on your future.’

’So, no matter what you’re really thinking, just agree to it for now. At this juncture, being green doesn’t matter. What matters is getting that money.’

Leo lowered his voice and leaned closer to Sterling.

"Mr. Sterling, right now I’m just a Mayor."

"But I hold the votes of the electorate in the Swing State of Pennsylvania."

"In the future, I will go to Washington."

"Maybe as a Representative, maybe as a Senator, or maybe something even higher."

Leo’s gaze grew intense.

"When I have that position..."

"I will support reforms for a fast-track energy approval process."

"I believe that for the sake of our nation’s industrial revival, and to avoid falling behind in global competition, some environmental concessions are necessary."

"We can’t let cumbersome environmental reviews drag down the pace of our country’s development."

"That is my promise."

The room fell silent.

Sterling stared intently at Leo, as if trying to see through to the young man’s soul.

He knew Leo had understood.

"Ha."

Sterling suddenly let out a laugh.

He pulled a Cuban cigar from a nearby box, clipped it, and offered it to Leo.

"Mr. Wallace."

"You don’t sound much like a Democrat."

"You don’t even sound like a politician."

Leo took the cigar but didn’t light it, just held it in his hand.

"I’m an industrialist."

Leo replied calmly.

"Without energy, there is no industry."

"Without industry, there is no nation."

Sterling nodded, the fat on his face jiggling as he smiled.

"Well said."

"An industrialist."

He picked up a lighter and lit the cigar for Leo.

"It’s a deal."

"I’ll call those Senators."

"I’ll tell them this bill of yours is about supporting American manufacturing."

"They’ll reconsider their position."

Sterling raised his glass.

"To our successful cooperation, future big shot."

Leo raised the cigar in his hand in a small gesture.

"To a successful cooperation, Mr. Sterling."

Outside, the Washington night air was still cold, but a fire burned within Leo.

He’d done it.

Leo threw the cigar on the ground and viciously stamped it out with the toe of his shoe.

He didn’t like the taste of cigars, but he had to learn to enjoy it.

Because this was the taste of power.

The money would come.

The port would be built.

Murphy would win.

As for the cost...

Leo touched his breast pocket, where he had placed a matchbox he’d picked up in the cigar room.

A small line of text was printed on the matchbox:

To ignite the future.

Leo smiled.

’Yes, to ignite the future, he first had to ignite himself.’

’Time to go back to the hotel, Mr. President.’

’Sarah is still waiting to give me the report on Pittsburgh.’

...

「Inside a suite at the Willard InterContinental Hotel, Washington D.C.」

Leo sat on the sofa, holding a glass of ice water, trying to cool his burning throat.

On his computer screen was Sarah’s video call window.

She was giving Leo her daily public opinion briefing.

"There was some breaking news this morning you might want to be aware of."

Sarah sent a video, and Leo clicked on it.

A red "BREAKING NEWS" banner occupied the bottom of the screen, with Philadelphia’s bustling Walnut Street in the background.

Police tape was stretched out, emergency lights flashed, and the back doors of an ambulance had just closed. Bloodstains on the ground blurred in the rain, a particularly shocking sight.

Sarah summarized the news over the video call.

"...Just this morning, there was a shooting in Philadelphia. The victim was Arthur Vance, CEO of the health insurance company Apex Health."

A photo popped up in the top right corner of the screen.

It was a typical white elite, wearing an expensive golf shirt, with a confident smile and pearly white teeth.

"He was on his way to the annual shareholders’ meeting when he was shot at close range by a gunman in front of the Four Seasons Hotel in Philadelphia."

"He was shot three times and died at the scene."

Leo watched the screen.

Assassinations of this level weren’t unheard of in the United States.

’A madman, a personal enemy, or a business dispute.’

’But what does this have to do with Pittsburgh?’

The video feed switched.

This time, it was a live interview with a well-known conservative commentator.

The commentator sat in the studio, his face grim.

"This wasn’t just a murder," the commentator asserted to the camera. "This was a premeditated political execution."

"According to leads just released by the police, the gunman was shouting a slogan as he committed the act."

"He said, ’Give health back to the people!’"

The commentator paused before offering his take.