Chapter 493 - 230: Split (Part 2)
This sense of a subordinate’s obedience to a superior gave him an odd sense of relief.
"But..."
Murphy finally spoke. There was no hesitation in his voice, only confusion.
"Why me?"
"Leo, you’re the leader."
"You built this alliance. You came up with these ideals. The workers listen to you."
"Why aren’t you the one running?"
"If you stepped up, your appeal would be ten times stronger than mine."
Leo turned his head and looked at his reflection in the window.
Young, sharp, even a bit grim.
"Because I can’t."
Leo answered, "First, the Constitution requires a candidate for President to be at least thirty-five years old. I’m not even eligible to register."
"Second."
Leo looked at himself in the glass.
"My image is too radical."
"In the public eye, I’m the revolutionary who ran the last Mayor out of office, the gambler who dared to sell the port to oligarchs, the agitator who led workers to blockade streets."
"I frighten people."
"People will follow me to marches and protests, but they would never trust me with the nuclear button."
"And you, John."
Leo said into the phone.
"You are a Senator."
"You have a reassuring politician’s face."
"You wear well-fitting suits, you know how to speak that smooth political jargon, you’re part of the establishment."
"You are a perfect choice."
"You represent the hope for change while still offering the security of the establishment."
"You are the best public face."
"You are a Federation Senator. When you stand on the podium and announce your candidacy, no one will dare to treat you as a joke."
"Since we’re putting on this show, we have to go all in. We need to make the White House truly believe we’re not just making threats—that we really have the ability and the right to fight for that seat."
Leo paused.
"Besides, John, you never know."
"If the situation really does change, if the fire we’ve lit truly burns out of control..."
"If the Democratic Party is really rotten to the core, so rotten that it needs a new savior..."
"Then, you actually running for President... well, it’s not entirely out of the question."
Murphy gave a bitter laugh on the other end of the line.
"Public face... a nice way of putting it."
"Let’s be honest, I’m just the target you’re pushing out front to take the bullets."
Leo ignored Murphy’s complaint, his voice growing low and forceful.
"So, Murphy."
"Go to the White House, with me on the line."
"Find the White House Chief of Staff, David Stern."
"Tell him we’re ready."
"If they don’t stop that bill protecting the insurance companies, then we’ll no longer be a nuisance within the Democratic Party. We will become a third force on the political landscape of the United States."
"Go, John."
"Go tell them, the war has started."
...
The West Wing of the White House.
John Murphy walked alone down the hallway leading to Stern’s office.
This was the heart of power, the birthplace of countless conspiracies and backroom deals.
Murphy’s hand tightly clutched a freshly printed document.
The paper was still warm from the printer.
Printed on the cover in bold, black letters was a title: "Workers and Justice Party: Strategic Planning for Voter Mobilization in the Rust Belt."
It was from Leo.
’Leo was ready for this all along. He anticipated this day would come. This wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment counterattack; it was premeditated.’
Murphy took a deep breath, trying to calm his violently pounding heart.
He walked to that familiar oak door and pushed it open.
David Stern, the current White House Chief of Staff, was sitting behind a desk piled high with documents.
He didn’t look up, just kept rapidly signing documents.
"Sit, John."
Stern pointed to the chair opposite him, without even a word of pleasantry.
"I only have ten minutes. The President is waiting for me to confirm his afternoon schedule."
Murphy sat down.
He didn’t take out the document. Instead, he took out his own phone, dialed a number, and placed it in the center of the desk.
"David, I’m here for one reason."
Murphy stared at Stern.
"The ’Critical Infrastructure and Medical Personnel Safety Protection Act’ has to be stopped. The President must veto it, or the Senate must withdraw it."
Stern finally looked up.
He put down his pen and interlaced his fingers.
"John, you know that’s impossible."
"This is the Senate’s legislative agenda. The White House respects the independence of the legislature."
"Besides, this bill concerns national security and the stability of critical infrastructure. In these turbulent times, the President needs to show a firm hand."
Stern spread his hands.
Murphy was just about to retort when a young voice suddenly came from the phone on the desk.
"Save it, Mr. Stern."
Leo Wallace’s voice echoed through the office from the speakerphone.
"Don’t waste our time with those talking points you save for the media."
Stern froze for a moment, his brow furrowing.
He looked at the phone, a flash of displeasure in his eyes.
"Who is this?"
"This is Leo Wallace."
Stern sneered, leaning back in his chair.
"Oh, John, is this your trump card? Letting him yell at me over the phone?"
"No, I’m not here to yell."