Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt

Chapter 270 - 135: Looting a Burning House

Three a.m.

In the Mayor’s Office on the third floor of Pittsburgh City Hall, Leo Wallace stood in the shadows, a cell phone clutched in his hand.

His thumb hovered over the call button for a long time.

It was a call he didn’t want to make, but one he had to.

Leo pressed the button.

"RING... RING... RING..."

The long, drawn-out ringing echoed in the office.

The call connected on the sixth ring.

"Leo."

Douglas Morganfield’s voice came through, thick with sleep and unconcealed annoyance.

"I gave you my private number so you could call me with good news, not so I could listen to you freaking out at three in the morning."

"The antitrust lawsuit."

Leo’s voice was hoarse.

"We can’t drag this out any longer, Douglas."

"I don’t care what it takes. We have to win, and we have to do it fast."

"I know you have the power to do it. You have one of the top legal teams in the country. You can make them do this."

The other end of the line fell silent.

Morganfield seemed to be waking up a little.

Even through the phone, Leo could feel him scrutinizing the sudden demand.

"So urgent?"

Morganfield’s voice turned playful, the sleepiness gone.

"Let me guess. The political winds have shifted in Washington?"

"Did your calls stop getting answered? Or did the people who promised to protect you suddenly remember they have other appointments?"

"You sound rather hysterical right now, Mr. Mayor."

Leo ignored his probing but didn’t refute it either.

"I need to see you," Leo said coldly. "Now. I’m coming to you."

"Now?"

Morganfield let out a short laugh.

"No, Leo. You’re in no position to demand ’now.’ Not anymore."

"I have my morning routine. I don’t break my habits for anyone, especially not for a desperate politician having a meltdown at three a.m."

"Tomorrow morning at nine. Allegany Mountain Summit Club."

Morganfield stated the time and place.

"Don’t be late. I don’t like to be kept waiting."

CLICK.

The line went dead.

Leo threw his phone onto the desk.

Roosevelt’s voice spoke up from the darkness.

"Morganfield smells blood in the water. He won’t help you for free."

"I know." Leo gazed out at the pitch-black night. "But he has no choice. He’s invested in the port project too."

"No, Leo."

Roosevelt corrected him.

"He had no choice *before*, because you had Sanders backing you. But now, you’re a pawn that’s been sacrificed."

"And with a sacrificed pawn, it’s not called a partnership anymore."

"So, if he refuses you at nine tomorrow morning, or if he names a price you can’t possibly accept..."

Roosevelt’s voice trailed off for a moment.

"Do you have another plan?"

Leo didn’t answer.

He just stood there silently, his figure nearly melting into the shadows cast by the faint glow of the emergency lights.

He didn’t nod, nor did he shake his head.

But in that heavy darkness, his eyes shone with a startling intensity.

...

「The next morning, at the Allegany Mountain Summit Club.」

Leo pushed open the familiar doors right on time.

The curtains in the cigar lounge were drawn, letting the morning sunlight spill in.

Morganfield was sitting on the sofa, dressed in a white workout suit.

He was the only one in the room.

No lawyers, no assistants.

Leo walked to the window, his back to Morganfield, and looked down at the city waking up in the morning mist.

"I need to end the lawsuit," Leo said, getting straight to the point.

"A summary judgment. A win within two weeks."

From behind him came the sound of a lighter igniting a cigar.

"That’s difficult, Leo."

Morganfield exhaled a puff of smoke, his voice lazy.

"My legal team is excellent, it’s true, but the courts have their procedures. Winning via summary judgment in two weeks, or forcing the other party to withdraw their suit, would require using unconventional judicial resources. It would mean calling in some huge favors."

"This isn’t just about money."

"It’s a matter of face, of political capital."

Leo turned around to face Morganfield.

"You have interests in the port too," Leo said. "If the project goes under, your fifty-year franchise agreement becomes worthless paper, and your land development plans will go up in smoke."

"That’s right."

Morganfield nodded, admitting it freely.

"I’d lose some money. Tens of millions, maybe a hundred or two."

"But, Leo."

Morganfield’s gaze sharpened.

"For the Morganfield Family, that amount of money would sting, but it wouldn’t be fatal. I can afford to lose."

"But what about you?"

"If this case drags on, if Murphy loses the primary, if the lawsuit continues..."

"What will you lose?"

"You’ll lose the mayorship. You’ll lose your entire political future."

"You might even be sent to prison for malfeasance."

"This is an uneven gamble."

Morganfield stood up and walked over to Leo.

He was half a head shorter than Leo, but at this moment, his presence completely overwhelmed the younger man.

"The situation has changed, kid."

"A month ago, you were a rising political star with a five-hundred-million-dollar bond and a Senator’s endorsement. Back then, you were qualified to talk to me about partnership, about a win-win."

"But now?"

"Washington has abandoned you. The party wants to purge you. Sanders can’t offer you any more support."

"Now, you’re a pawn that’s been sacrificed."

"You’re a drowning dog that only I can save."