Chapter 490 - 229: Running for President
The door to the conference room stood open.
Heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway—the sound of more than a dozen mayors leaving.
They walked slowly, the anxiety they had arrived with now gone. They no longer whispered amongst themselves.
Every one of them had their lips sealed, their hands clutching their briefcases tightly.
Ron Smith was at the front. As he passed by Leo, he paused for a moment.
He gave the young Mayor of Pittsburgh a deep, incredibly complex look.
In the end, he said nothing, merely tugging down the brim of his hat before striding quickly toward the elevator.
Next came Joe Byers of Scranton, followed by Bennett from the suburbs of Harrisburg.
Their expressions were all identical.
Dazed.
It was the look of a mind crashing from information overload. Their eyes were unfocused, staring blankly into the air before them.
With a DING, the elevator doors slid shut, cutting off the sight of those bewildered eyes.
The hallway returned to silence.
Leo remained seated at the head of the conference table.
The air in the room was thick and stale. A window was cracked open, but the faint draft did little to disperse the oppressive atmosphere lingering within.
Ethan walked in, holding a stack of documents.
He was here to clean up the aftermath.
As chief of staff, he was used to clearing the battlefield after a storm.
He skillfully tossed the scattered empty water bottles from the table into the trash, pushed the chairs back into place, and then began to organize the meeting minutes in front of Leo.
But he soon discovered that the paper in front of Leo was blank.
Four hours of meetings, and Leo hadn’t written down a single word.
"So... it’s over?"
Ethan paused what he was doing and looked in the direction the mayors had gone, his voice filled with disbelief.
"They agreed?"
"Yes."
Leo leaned back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose where a headache was forming.
"They agreed to join the Mutual Aid Alliance. Most importantly, they agreed to stand with us on Luigi’s case."
"Even to do so publicly."
Ethan sucked in a sharp breath.
He put down the documents, planted his hands on the tabletop, and stared at Leo.
"Leo, this isn’t right."
Ethan’s voice rose.
"I know the Saint Claude Family’s financial backing is a huge lure, but it’s not enough to make them bet their lives and fortunes."
"Getting this bunch to cooperate for money is easy."
"But getting them to confront Washington, to declare war on the entire healthcare system, all for an assassin who killed someone? That’s beyond their risk tolerance."
"Not even with Saint Claude’s endorsement."
Ethan stared into Leo’s eyes, trying to find an answer.
"What exactly did you tell them?"
"During those four hours, besides showing them the video and painting them a pretty picture, you must have given them something else."
"Was it a promise? Or a threat?"
Leo stood up.
He walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window, his back to Ethan, and looked down at the streets below.
"I didn’t threaten them."
Leo’s voice was steady, betraying no emotion.
"Threats can make people submit temporarily, but they won’t make them risk their lives."
"Then what was it?"
"I showed them my trump card."
Leo turned around, leaning back against the windowsill with his hands in his pockets.
"I told them everything about my plans."
"Everything?" Ethan froze for a second.
"About the future of the Rust Belt, the future of Pennsylvania, and about... our future."
It suddenly dawned on Ethan.
"You just said *all* your plans?"
He stared at Leo.
"I’m your chief of staff, Leo. I manage your entire schedule, I draft all your documents, I clean up all your messes."
"But you’ve never mentioned them to me."
"I don’t even know about these plans."
Ethan took a step forward, his voice laced with accusation.
"You told Ron Smith, you told Joe Byers, you told a room full of outsiders."
"But you kept them from me?"
"Why?"
A dead silence fell over the office.
Leo looked at Ethan.
The young man was very talented. A Harvard Law School graduate, he understood the law, understood the rules.
He was the man Sanders had sent, the bridge connecting Pittsburgh to the orthodox political circles in Washington.
"Ethan."
Leo placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder.
"You’re an excellent legal expert, a perfect chief of staff."
"You follow the rules, you revere the law. When you see a red light, your instinct is to hit the brakes, to stop and wait."
"This is your strength, and also your limitation."
Leo’s gaze grew profound, like a bottomless well.
"But my plan... is to run every red light."
"In fact, I’m going to smash the traffic lights themselves."
"If I told you my plan, you would try to stop me. You’d pull out the Constitution, the Federal code, and tell me it’s not feasible, that it’s suicide."
Leo stared into Ethan’s eyes.
"You’d lie awake night after night. You’d be trapped in an agonizing struggle between your professional ethics and your personal loyalty."
"And under extreme pressure, your conscience might even compel you to report me to Washington."
Ethan wanted to argue, to say, ’I wouldn’t.’
But he opened his mouth and no sound came out.
"Not telling you is for your own good, Ethan."
Leo clapped him on the shoulder, the gesture heavy.
"Some burdens are dirty. It’s enough for me to carry them alone."
"You need to stay clean."
"If this ship goes down one day, you can say you knew nothing. You can go back to Washington with clean hands and continue your promising career."