Chapter 661 - 310: Frenzied Advance

A red-brick townhouse on the south side of Capitol Hill, Washington D.C.

Ten in the morning.

Sunlight streamed through the blinds, slicing the conference room into stark black and white stripes.

The room’s furnishings were somewhat dated. The walls were adorned with a propaganda poster from the Roosevelt New Deal era and a black-and-white photograph of Martin Luther King Jr. in front of the Lincoln Memorial.

Leo Wallace stood behind Daniel Sanders.

He was formally dressed today, shedding the wild, aggressive air he carried in Pittsburgh. He looked like a blade concealed in its sheath.

A dozen or so people were seated in the room.

Looking at the group, Leo could sense a palpable weariness in the air.

It was the exhaustion born from being constantly on the defensive, of ceding ground again and again under the combined pressure of the Establishment Faction and the Republican Party.

After the last intra-party purge, several chairs sat empty. While the gazes of those who remained were still resolute, they couldn’t conceal the prevailing sense of decline.

Sanders stood at the head of the long table.

The older man clapped his hands, drawing everyone’s attention.

"Everyone’s here."

The dozen or so pairs of eyes in the room all turned to Leo.

Their gazes were filled with scrutiny, curiosity, and even a trace of hostility.

There was Alexandra, the Representative from the New York Bronx District and a standard-bearer for the radical left.

There was Mark, a Union representative from Minnesota, who had the backing of the few remaining large manufacturing Unions in the Midwest.

There was Susan, an environmental champion from California.

They were survivors.

In the intra-party purges of the last few years, the Establishment Faction had used its financial advantages and redistricting to push a large number of Progressives out of Congress.

They were desperate for a victory, and for a new direction.

"I don’t need to make a lengthy introduction."

Sanders placed a hand on Leo’s shoulder.

"You’ve all seen the news. You know what happened in Pittsburgh."

"This is Leo Wallace."

Sanders scanned the room, his tone grave.

"He accomplished what we’ve been shouting about on Capitol Hill for ten years, yet failed to achieve."

"He brought drug prices down. He got factories running again. He got the blue-collar workers who used to vote Republican to start wearing T-shirts with our slogans again."

"Maybe you think his methods are dirty. Maybe you’ve heard the rumors about him cutting deals with the Republican Party."

Sanders paused.

"But I’m telling you, he is exactly who we need."

"We’ve been losing for too long."

"We need to win."

"Leo."

The older man’s eyes were filled with anticipation.

"You’re among friends here."

"Tell them what you did in Pittsburgh. Tell them how we’re going to win."

Sanders took a step back, ceding his place to Leo.

The symbolism of the gesture was immense.

Everyone in the room was a political animal. They all understood the implication.

Leo stepped forward without hesitation, his severe gaze sweeping over each person in the room.

He had prepared a speech.

He was going to talk about how the Pittsburgh model could be replicated, and how to spread the Progressives’ ideals throughout the Rust Belt.

But the moment he stepped up to the podium and saw the looks in their eyes, he changed his mind.

"Good morning, everyone."

Leo began, his voice silencing the whispers in the room.

"I know what you’re thinking."

"You’re wondering if this kid from Pittsburgh has already become a K Street lapdog."

Alexandra, sitting in the front row with her arms crossed, stared coldly at Leo.

"And are you not?" she challenged directly. "You support shale gas extraction and defense contracts. You even cut a deal with that anti-abortion Republican Speaker of the House."

"Mayor Wallace, where do you draw the line?"

A low murmur of agreement rippled through the room.

Leo didn’t flinch from her gaze.

"The line?"

Leo scoffed.

"My line is with the little girl with leukemia in the Pittsburgh South District who just had her surgery."

"My line is with the single mother who can finally afford to buy her child a new pair of shoes because the factory reopened."

"My line is with the retired worker who no longer has to buy insulin on the black market."

Leo leaned forward, bracing his hands on the table, his presence radiating an intimidating pressure.

"Representative Alexandra, you have two million followers on X. You can post a tweet and get over a hundred thousand likes. That’s impressive."

"But can your likes be turned into aspirin? Can your retweets be forged into steel?"

"You protest on Capitol Hill, you debate in the media, and you occupy the moral high ground."

"And what’s the result?"

"The result is that our people are bleeding, we’re losing one election after another, and our bills are tossed in the trash by the Establishment Faction like toilet paper."

"Why?"

"Because we have no power."

Leo’s voice rose.

"We have slogans, but no teeth."

"Capitalists aren’t afraid of slogans. They’re afraid of losing profits. Politicians aren’t afraid of moral condemnation. They’re afraid of losing votes."

"What I did in Pittsburgh was give the Progressives teeth."

Leo looked at the assembled representatives.

"Do you want to pass universal healthcare? Do you want to raise the minimum wage? Do you want to achieve real equality in this country?"

"Then stop obsessing over so-called political purity."

Leo held out his hand and clenched it into a fist.

"Pittsburgh was just the beginning."

"I have money, I have an organization, and I have a proven playbook for survival."

"I’m going to take this playbook to all of Pennsylvania, and to the entire Rust Belt."

"And I need you to have my back here in Washington."