Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt

"Right now, voters across the country are watching Pennsylvania, watching to see how we handle this trial over medical justice."

Leo turned to look at Monroe.

"In Washington’s logic, I’m the virus tearing the party’s consensus apart, the main culprit behind their falling poll numbers in the swing states. They need someone who can put out this fire quickly."

"You and I both know what kind of man Campbell is. His roots are in Pennsylvania. He’s not going to make a move against the Industrial Revival Alliance, and he’s not going to use radical measures to control the labor movement."

Leo’s tone was remarkably calm.

"So, Washington needs an executor who’s more obedient than Campbell."

"As long as you can make those workers in Pittsburgh shut their mouths, as long as you can completely dismantle my Revival Alliance, then in return, the governor’s seat—the one Campbell has been holding—can be handed over to you now."

"They want you to be governor, Aston."

Leo didn’t mince words.

"They want you to replace Campbell, then make you sign that executive injunction targeting me, and walk into the governor’s office on the back of my ruined reputation. That’s their promise, right?"

Monroe opened his mouth to speak, but Leo cut him off.

"Don’t answer just yet."

Leo’s finger traced a line across the map, from Harrisburg all the way to Pittsburgh.

"You have only two paths before you now."

Leo turned, his back against the map, and looked Monroe straight in the eye.

"The first path, I call the Washington Path."

Leo held up one finger.

"You accept their offer to bring you into the fold, play the part of the good little boy, and cooperate with the Democratic National Committee."

"You’ll become governor, no doubt about it. Washington’s money will back you, the mainstream media will sing your praises, and you’ll stand on the steps of the State Capitol Building in an expensive suit, taking the oath of office."

"But this choice comes at a price."

"They want you to go to war with me."

Leo pointed to his own chest.

"And will you win?"

Leo shrugged.

"Maybe. After all, you’ll have the guns, the prisons, the whole state apparatus."

"But have you considered the consequences?"

Leo took a step closer.

"Pennsylvania will be reduced to ruins."

"The factories will shut down, the railways will grind to a halt, and the streets will be filled with tear gas and Molotov cocktails. Enraged workers will vent their fury on every single building bearing a State Government sign."

"You’ll become a civil war governor."

"Your name will be forever linked to bloodshed, suppression, and turmoil. Your approval ratings will hit rock bottom. The working class will consider you their mortal enemy, and moderate voters will see you as an incompetent administrator."

"Four years from now."

Leo’s voice turned contemptuous.

"When the next election for governor rolls around, those Washington bigwigs who are promising you their support right now will be the first to abandon you."

"Because you’ll be tainted."

"You’ll be a used piece of toilet paper, a knife with a blunted edge."

"They’ll toss you out like garbage and bring in a cleaner, more appealing new face to take over the state."

"That’s the endgame of the Washington Path."

Monroe asked, "And the second path?"

"The second path."

Leo smiled. "That, of course, is the Leo Path."

"You work with me."

"We take down Campbell."

A feral glint flashed in Leo’s eyes.

"It’s a coup. That’s right. But I’ll be the one playing the villain."

"If you take this path, I promise you."

Leo slapped the western portion of the map.

"The entire Rust Belt voting bloc will be yours."

"The Unions will support you because you helped them get rid of the governor who blocked medical reform. The Industrial Revival Alliance will support you because you’ll give them legitimacy."

"You’ll take office as a reformer and a unifier."

"You won’t just win the office. You’ll win the hearts of the people."

"You’ll be secure in your position. No one will be able to touch you."

"That sounds good, Leo."

Monroe finally spoke, a hint of reservation in his voice.

"But I have one question. If I do this, I’ll become a thorn in the side of the Democratic National Committee. My future within the Party will be ruined."

"Future?"

Leo scoffed.

He walked over to Monroe’s desk, planted his hands on its surface, and loomed over the Vice Governor.

"Aston, stop pretending."

Leo lowered his voice.

"We both know your ambition doesn’t end there."

"You don’t just want to be governor. You want the White House."

"You want that chair."

Monroe remained noncommittal.

"If you take the Washington Path."

Leo continued, his words coming in a torrent.

"You’ll just be a dog for the Democratic National Committee."

"There are fifty states in this country. The Democratic Party has dozens of governors just like you—obedient, with perfect résumés and meticulously styled hair."

"How are you going to stand out?"

"Because you’re obedient? Or is it your perfect Philadelphia accent?"

"Don’t kid yourself."

"In a field crowded with elites like that, you have no edge. You’ll just be swallowed up by a sea of mediocrity."

"But if you walk my path..."

Leo’s voice dropped to a low rumble.

"You will be the only one who can control the monster of the Rust Belt."

Leo pointed at himself.

"Think about it, Aston."

Leo’s gaze grew intense.

"The election in two years."

"Pennsylvania is the deciding state. Its nineteen electoral votes determine who occupies the White House."

"For the Democratic candidate to win, they have to take Pennsylvania."

"And to take Pennsylvania, they have to go through the Rust Belt. And they have to go through me."

"That’s when you step up."

"You tell the candidate, ’Don’t worry, I can handle Leo Wallace. I can deliver those hundreds of thousands of working-class votes right into your hands, safe and sound.’"

"In that moment."

Leo snapped his fingers.

"You become the Kingmaker."

"Washington will have to get on its knees and beg you."

"The presidential candidate will have to beg you."

"I know what you’re worried about, Aston," Leo said, watching the fleeting hesitation on Monroe’s face. "You’re afraid the reputation of having betrayed Washington will destroy you, afraid those bigwigs will unite to blacklist you."

Leo shook his head.

"Politicians only see interests, not right and wrong. As long as you can deliver those 19 crucial electoral votes from Pennsylvania, you’re a hero, a savior. As for how you got those votes—whether you betrayed Campbell or sold out Walker—who cares?"

Leo’s voice turned icy.

"People who let their emotions rule them never make it to Washington. They’ll just see you as a tool to solve a problem. As long as the tool works, nobody cares what blood it was stained with in the past."

"Then, the Vice Presidency? Secretary of State? Or the presidential nomination in four years?"

Leo smiled.

"Those will be yours for the taking."

"That’s the game you should be playing."

Monroe’s mind was racing.

This was the very same logic Monroe had been contemplating.

In these chaotic times, meekness was useless.

Only by mastering chaos could one master power.

Chaos is a ladder.

And Leo Wallace was the man who created the chaos.

If Monroe could be the one standing at the top of that ladder, then all the trouble Leo created would become the force propelling him upward.

’Mr. President,’ Leo thought to himself. ’He’s wavering.’

’Of course,’ Roosevelt’s voice rang in his mind.

’No Politician can refuse the title of Kingmaker.’

’It’s the instinct of a political animal.’

’Leo, turn up the heat.’

’Tell him this isn’t just an exchange of benefits. This is the choice of history itself.’

Leo looked into Monroe’s wavering eyes.

"Aston."

Leo’s voice softened slightly.

"Have you ever read a history book?"

"In 1960, why did Kennedy choose Johnson to be his Vice President?"

"Was it because he liked Johnson? No. They loathed each other."

"But Kennedy knew that without Johnson, he couldn’t win Texas, and he couldn’t win the Southern States."

"Johnson controlled a world that Kennedy couldn’t touch."

"The situation now is exactly the same."

"Those elites in Washington will never understand what the workers of the Rust Belt are thinking. They’re both arrogant and terrified."

"They need a translator, an intermediary, someone who can stick their hand in the muck for them without getting his own suit dirty."

"That person is you."

"You’re from a privileged background, a member of the Establishment Faction. You speak their language."

"But at the same time, you can control a barbarian like me."

"That is your core competitive advantage."

"And it’s your only ticket to the White House."

Leo leaned back in his chair and spread his hands wide.

"Choose, Aston."

"Will you be a dog that can be thrown away at a moment’s notice?"

"Or will you be the one holding the leash?"

Silence fell over the office.

The only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall.