Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt

Chapter 242 - 125: The Hunt

Karen Miller strode into the conference room, a black leather briefcase in her hand.

"Gentlemen."

Karen placed the briefcase on the conference table and unzipped it.

She pulled out a thick stack of documents and slapped them down on the tabletop.

"THUD."

The dull sound made Leo, who had been speaking in a low voice with Murphy, look up.

"We got him." A hint of undisguised glee was in Karen’s voice.

Leo reached out and took the stack of documents.

A photograph was printed on the cover of the file.

The photo showed a young white man, about thirty years old, with a typical Washington politician’s side part and a standard professional smile.

Name: Chad Evans.

"Who’s this?" Frank leaned in, squinting at the photo. "Looks like an insurance salesman."

"He’s a lot more dangerous than an insurance salesman," Karen said as she pulled out a chair, sat down, and opened her laptop, connecting it to the large screen. "Chad Evans, thirty-two years old. Three years ago, he was a senior legislative aide in Senator Russell Warren’s office, specializing in energy and environmental affairs."

A screenshot of a paystub appeared on the screen.

"Back then, his annual salary was sixty-two thousand US Dollars. In Washington, that’s enough to rent a decent apartment and go for a drink in Georgetown every now and then."

"He was a typical Capitol Hill worker bee, dealing with hundreds of emails a day, helping Warren draft those tedious energy policy bills."

Karen tapped the keyboard, and the screen changed.

This time, it was the profile page of a corporate executive.

In the background was a massive natural gas drilling rig. Chad Evans stood in the foreground in a custom-tailored suit, arms crossed, his title now dazzling and lengthy.

"Two years ago, he left his job."

"He joined Pennsylvania’s largest shale gas extraction company—the Appalachian Energy Group."

"His new position was Chief Strategy Officer and Vice President of Government Relations."

Karen pointed to a line of small text at the bottom of the screen.

"This is his tax record from last year. A base salary of six hundred thousand US Dollars, plus four hundred thousand US Dollars’ worth of stock options."

"From sixty thousand to six hundred thousand."

"And it took him less than a month."

A low gasp went through the conference room.

Frank’s eyes widened, and he mumbled, "Did this kid rob a bank?"

"It’s much safer than robbing a bank, and a lot more profitable," Ethan added from the side. "This is the revolving door. One day you’re on Capitol Hill writing laws to regulate corporations, and the next you’re an executive at one of those corporations, teaching them how to get around the laws you wrote."

"But that’s not even the best part."

Karen stood up and walked to the whiteboard.

She drew a timeline on it.

"Chad Evans officially resigned from Warren’s office on May first, two years ago. On May fifteenth, he started at Appalachian Energy."

"And in August of that year, just three months after he started, the Senate Energy Committee voted on a key piece of legislation: the Underground Water Resources Protection Bill."

"This bill was designed to restrict the use of chemical fracturing fluids in the shale gas extraction process."

"If it had passed, Appalachian Energy Company would have had to pay at least one hundred and fifty million US Dollars more per year in compliance costs, and might even have been forced to shut down several of their high-yield wells in Western Pennsylvania."

Karen drew a red X at the August mark on the timeline.

"Russell Warren, as a key member of the Energy Committee, cast the deciding vote against it."

"Appalachian Energy Company’s stock price surged twelve percent the next day."

Karen turned to look at Leo and Murphy.

"This was the deal."

"Warren saved the company over a hundred million, and the company took care of his former aide. Or rather, that aide was the bagman for Warren’s payoffs."

"We can’t find any evidence of Warren taking bribes directly; he’s too seasoned for that. But Chad Evans is just a nouveau riche. His books might look clean, but with a coincidence on the timeline like this, not even God himself could wash him clean."

Leo stared at the file on the table.

The chain of evidence was complete.

This was a blatant exchange of interests.

In Washington, this sort of thing happens every day. It’s a tacit understanding.

But in an election year, when all this is put under the spotlight and the veneer of legality is torn away, it’s enough to damage a politician’s credibility.

"A perfect target."

Leo closed the file, his fingers tapping lightly on the cover.

"This is the chink in the armor we’ve been looking for."

"We’ve been attacking Warren’s policies, attacking him for not supporting workers, but he can always defend himself by claiming he’s protecting the industry. Voters don’t understand complex macroeconomics; they get confused by Warren’s ’for the future of Pennsylvania’ rhetoric."

"But this..."

Leo held up the file.

"Sixty thousand US Dollars versus six hundred thousand. The contrast is too stark, too visceral."

"Any steelworker who works hard every day for forty or fifty thousand a year will go insane when they see these numbers."

"They’ll ask: On what grounds? Why does some thirty-year-old kid, who did nothing but carry a senator’s briefcase for a few years, get to make more money than we’ll ever earn in our lifetime?"

"This is class warfare."

Murphy, sitting on the sofa, also had an excited look on his face.

He’d been touring the rural areas of Western Pennsylvania for the past few days, speaking until his throat was hoarse, but the results weren’t great.

Those conservative redneck voters have a natural resistance to the Democratic Party.

But corruption?

No one likes corruption.

No one likes to see a politician turn public office into their own personal ATM.

"This could cause a public outcry," Murphy said. "We can tell this story very simply: Warren sold out Pennsylvania’s groundwater, sold out the health of its children, just so his little crony could get rich."

"We need to frame this as irrefutable proof that ’Warren sold out the public interest.’"

Leo stood up and walked to the whiteboard.

He drew a circle around "Chad Evans" and then an arrow pointing to "Russell Warren."

"We’re firing up the propaganda machine."

Leo issued the orders.

"Sarah, I want you to turn this data into the simplest possible infographic."

"On the left, a photo of Warren casting his ’no’ vote. On the right, pictures of Chad Evans’s mansion and sports car."

"The headline needs to be direct and jarring."

"’Who’s Paying For Your Water Bill?’ or ’The Senator’s Million-Dollar Protégé.’"

"Frank, have your people print these flyers, get them to every gas station, and stick them on every pump at every Appalachian Energy Company gas station."

"We want every Pennsylvanian who goes to get gas to see this face when they’re paying."

The entire campaign headquarters sprang into action.

Everyone was like a shark that had smelled blood in the water. This kind of hard-hitting dirt was the most valuable ammunition in a campaign battle.

They had been suppressed for too long. Warren’s "Teflon" image had left them with no angle of attack, but now they had finally found a breakthrough.

The air in the conference room was so fervent it felt like it could ignite.

Everyone believed they were holding the spear that would slay the dragon.

Leo looked at the file that could utterly ruin Chad Evans, then slowly closed his eyes and sank into the depths of his consciousness.

It was quiet there. The praise he had expected didn’t come.

’Mr. President?’ Leo asked in his mind. ’Isn’t this a fatal blow? Sixty thousand versus six hundred thousand—that kind of stark wealth disparity, combined with hard proof of a cash-for-influence deal, is enough to instantly destroy Warren’s moral foundation.’

Roosevelt was silent for a long time.

’Something’s not right.’

Roosevelt’s voice was low, tinged with an indescribable hesitation.

Leo was a little surprised.

Roosevelt was always the master strategist, planning from behind the scenes, seeing everything with perfect clarity. He rarely showed this kind of uncertainty.

’What’s not right? The chain of evidence is complete, the money trail is clear, we even have a copy of the consulting contract signed by Evans.’

’It’s not about the evidence.’ Roosevelt shook his head. ’It’s a feeling. This feels too easy.’

’Too easy?’

’Yes. Too perfect, too logical, too much in line with everything we wanted.’ Roosevelt paused, as if trying desperately to catch a fleeting thought in his mind.

’This is Pennsylvania.’ Roosevelt’s tone grew heavy. ’Leo, don’t you think Warren is being too quiet? If you can so easily get your hands on the dagger that could kill him, it’s either because he’s a complete fool, or... ’

’Or he was just careless,’ Leo interrupted Roosevelt’s thoughts. ’Arrogance is a common disease among politicians. He’s been in that seat for so long, he probably thinks no one would dare to look into his books.’

Roosevelt didn’t immediately argue back.

’I still feel uneasy.’

’Uneasy about what?’

’I don’t know.’

’I can’t put my finger on the crux of the problem just yet. Maybe it’s the local culture, maybe it’s some kind of symbiotic relationship of interests I haven’t seen through. It feels like walking on a frozen river in early winter. The ice looks thick, but I think I can hear it cracking underneath.’

Leo understood Roosevelt’s caution. It was a survival instinct honed by countless political storms.

But reality didn’t allow for hesitation.

A campaign is like a sprint. The starting gun has fired, the opponent has shown a weakness. To stop now because of some vague intuition would be the biggest mistake of all.

’This is a huge scandal, Mr. President,’ Leo responded in his mind, his tone firm. ’The wealth gap is a universal sore spot. Whether in Washington or Pennsylvania, no one is going to like a Vampire who cashes in on his public office for personal gain. We have to attack.’

’If you’re determined to strike,’ Roosevelt sighed, ’then be careful. Don’t overcommit to this punch. Leave yourself some room to maneuver.’

’I will.’

Leo withdrew from the space in his consciousness.

He opened his eyes, looking at the irrefutable evidence before him and the soaring morale of his team members.

The window of opportunity was fleeting.

As long as it could inflict damage, they had to charge in, even if there was fog ahead.

"Release it."

Leo’s finger tapped the tabletop once, giving the signal to attack.

"Tell this story well."

"We’re going to make sure everyone in Pennsylvania knows that Russell Warren isn’t just a Senator; he’s a gatekeeper who holds the back door open for opportunists like this to get rich."

"We’re going to show everyone just whose wallet their trusted guardian is actually guarding."

Sarah nodded, grabbed her laptop, and rushed out of the conference room.

Frank grabbed a stack of materials and started calling the printers.

Murphy, meanwhile, pulled out a bottle of whiskey and poured a glass for everyone.

"To Chad Evans," Murphy said, raising his glass with a sneer. "Thank you for giving us such a generous gift."

Leo picked up his glass and took a sip.

The harsh liquid slid down his throat.

He looked out the window.

The calm before the storm had been broken.

Now, all that was left was to see how big of a crater this bomb would leave on the soil of Pennsylvania.