Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt

Chapter 325 - 160: Great Earthquake

"That’s why we saw those defections."

"That’s the power of money. Delivering concrete benefits works better than any ideological lecture."

Warren turned and looked at Roves.

"Murphy is dangerous."

"They’re trying to establish a new order—one that bypasses Washington and Harrisburg, a coalition of interests formed directly by the industrial cities at the grassroots level."

"If they succeed, if they actually manage to make this Rust Belt New Deal model viable..."

"Then this becomes about more than just losing a Senate seat."

"This will shake the Republican Party’s foundation in the entire Midwest."

"We will lose our grip on the blue-collar class."

A grim tension filled the room.

He had to make a move.

He didn’t just have to win this fight. He had to nip this dangerous trend in the bud.

"Tell our team we’re escalating our strategy."

Warren gave the order.

"First, I’m going to bring those disobedient fence-sitters into line."

"Call those Republican mayors in Erie, Scranton, and Johnston, or have their financial backers call them."

"Tell them that Pittsburgh’s money might buy them a single meal, but the wrath of Washington can make them starve for a lifetime."

"Look into the federal funding projects in their cities, whether they’re for repairing bridges or building schools. Find a few excuses to block them, suspend them, or put them up for review."

"I want them to understand that the price of betraying me is far greater than the few scraps they’re getting from Leo Wallace."

"Second, prepare our attacks against Murphy."

Warren walked back to his desk, picked up a pen, and drew a heavy circle around Murphy’s name.

"Murphy wants to talk about the economy? Wants to talk about jobs? Wants to talk about a New Deal?"

"Fine. Then we’ll give him that debate."

"But he’s a Democrat, and that is his original sin."

"We need to tie Murphy, Sanders, and that crazy Mayor of Pittsburgh tightly together."

"We need to tell Pennsylvanians that Murphy’s so-called New Deal is just raising taxes, big government, and taking your money to support freeloaders."

"I’m going to drag this election back to an ideological war over ’what kind of America we want.’"

Warren slammed the pen on his desk with a sharp CRACK.

"Monroe is down. Now it’s our turn."

...

With Murphy’s victory, the media landscape erupted.

The New York Times headline was in bold black font: "The Revenge of the Rust Belt."

The article detailed how working-class voters had used the election to send a furious roar to the elite-controlled leadership of the Democratic Party.

The Wall Street Journal’s opinion section was filled with anxiety: "The Democratic Party Turns Left? Pennsylvania Primary Sends Dangerous Signal."

They worried that Murphy’s victory signified that radical economic policies would become mainstream for the Democrats, unsettling the markets.

Meanwhile, more media outlets began frantically digging into the identity of the mastermind behind Murphy.

The young Mayor of Pittsburgh.

For the first time, the name Leo Wallace was truly in the national political spotlight.

...

Pittsburgh, campaign headquarters.

The phone finally stopped ringing.

Just a few minutes ago, John Murphy had hung up after a long call from Washington.

The call was from Harrison Boyd himself.

Murphy put down his phone, turned around, and looked at the people in the room.

His expression was complicated. That scrappy air of fighting side-by-side in the mud, of agonizing over a few hundred votes, was rapidly fading from him.

In its place was the reserved excitement of a man about to step into the highest circles of power, along with a subtle sense of detachment.

"Leo."

Murphy spoke.

"The chairman of the Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee just spoke with me for a long time."

"They want me to go to Washington immediately. They’ve already bought my plane ticket."

"They want to talk to me about general election strategy, and they want to set me up with the top professional campaign team in the country."

"They said the upcoming general election is a war for the entire party, and we can’t run a guerrilla campaign like we did in the primary anymore."

The room fell silent.

Everyone understood what this meant.

This meant Murphy was moving up to the big leagues.

He was going to leave this campaign headquarters, leave these comrades-in-arms covered in grime, and ascend to that world in the clouds that only the elite could enter.

Frank opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end, he said nothing, just silently taking off his hat.

Leo walked over.

He looked at Murphy, at this ally who was about to become the Democratic nominee for Senator.

And smiled.

It was a genuine smile.

Leo reached out and helped Murphy straighten his slightly crooked tie.

"Go on, John."

Leo said softly.

"You’ve earned this."

"Don’t let them think we people from Pittsburgh are unsophisticated."

"When you get to Washington, hold your head high."

"Tell them you’re not going there to beg, you’re going there to conquer."

Murphy looked at Leo, his eyes reddening.

He suddenly opened his arms and hugged Leo tightly.

"Thank you, my brother."

Murphy’s voice was choked with emotion.

"Without you, I’d still be a backbencher in the House, or I might have even retired to dote on my grandkids by now."

"I’ll be back."

"I won’t forget Pittsburgh, I won’t forget a single promise I made here."

"But first I have to go... and become one of them."

Leo patted Murphy on the back.

"I know."

"Go."

「Ten minutes later.」

Murphy, with Karen Miller and his core entourage, hurriedly left the campaign headquarters.

Several black sedans sped away, heading straight for the airport.

The office was instantly empty.

All that remained was a floor littered with confetti, empty bottles, and celebratory banners that hadn’t yet been taken down.

Leo stood at the door, watching the motorcade disappear into the distance.

A profound sense of loneliness washed over him.

He had won.

He had put Murphy in that position.

But he felt like he had lost a comrade-in-arms.

From this moment on, Murphy was no longer just his ally.

He was the Democratic Party’s candidate for Senator; he belonged to the entire party machine, to the grand scheme of Washington.

He would have new advisors, new strategies, new interests to consider.

And Leo, he still had to stand watch over Pittsburgh, over this city filled with smoke and debt.

’Don’t be sentimental, Leo.’

Roosevelt’s voice sounded in his mind.

’This is the fate of a Kingmaker.’

’You’ve sent the King to the throne. You can’t expect him to still sit on a bench next to you drinking cheap beer like he used to.’

’He has to adapt to that new world. He has to deal with those new people.’

’But that doesn’t mean you’ve lost him.’

Roosevelt’s voice became firm.

’As long as he still needs your votes.’

’As long as Pittsburgh is still his power base in Pennsylvania.’

’As long as he still wants to beat that damn Warren.’

’Then he will always be your friend.’

’Even if he’s sitting on a cloud in Washington, his strings are still in your hands.’

Leo nodded.

He turned, looked at the empty office, picked up a broom, and began to sweep the confetti from the floor.

’Let’s get this place cleaned up.’

’Tomorrow, there’s more work to do.’