Chapter 665 313: Communication Meeting

Washington Dulles International Airport, at the far end of the terminal.

The United Airlines Global First Lounge isn't open to regular first-class passengers.

It has a hidden side entrance, reserved for VIPs who don't want their names on a flight manifest, or for those transiting through the capital on private jets.

4:00 PM.

Sterling sat on a sofa in the corner, a lean man seated across from him.

George Vance.

Chief Legal Officer of Pfizer, and the man in charge of the pharmaceutical alliance's operation to corner Pittsburgh.

"Have a drink, George."

Sterling pushed a glass toward him.

"Don't thank me. I brought this bottle back from Scotland. It's much better than that distilled water you guys have in your labs."

Vance didn't touch the glass. He glanced at Sterling.

"We only have twenty minutes, Sterling," Vance said, his voice cold. "My plane is waiting. If you're here to play lobbyist for that madman in Pittsburgh, then we're wasting our time."

"Don't be so hasty."

Sterling smiled and took a large gulp from his own glass.

"Listen, man, the kid wants us to cut the power to the East Coast. We really don't want to do that. You know, suddenly pulling the plug will piss off the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, and it'll affect our stock prices. We're all just trying to do business here. Best to keep things civil."

Sterling spread his hands and laid out his proposal.

"Can't you just give him a little something?"

"Give him a discount, tell him to shut up. How big is Pittsburgh, anyway? A population of just three hundred thousand. That's a drop in the bucket for Pfizer's global profits. Even if you gave away your medicine for free there, it wouldn't even show up on your financial statements."

"If you just back down and resume supply, I won't have to pull that damn plug. We all go back to making money, maybe catch an opera at the Kennedy Center at night. Why make things so difficult?"

Vance looked at Sterling, a flicker of contempt in his eyes.

He extended a finger and gently pushed away the glass.

"Sterling, you don't understand."

Vance's voice grew soft.

"Pittsburgh isn't important. That so-called Industrial Revival Alliance isn't important. Even the entire state of Pennsylvania isn't important."

He looked at Sterling.

"But a world without Leo Wallace? That is very important."

Sterling's mouth twitched.

"George, this is just business," Sterling said, trying to pull the conversation back to quantifiable terms. "Risking a power outage across the entire East Coast for one Mayor... it's not a good deal."

"This *is* business," Vance's tone was absolute.

"Sterling, I suggest you think this through carefully."

"If the Energy Association really decides to side with that madman in Pittsburgh, this will no longer be a commercial dispute."

"We will short the stocks of all your member companies on the secondary market. We will have the rating agencies reassess your debt risk."

Vance looked at Sterling's face, a contemptuous smirk playing on his lips.

"In this day and age, you coal-burning, oil-guzzling dinosaurs should have gone extinct long ago."

"You're not just dirty, you're stupid. Your business model is bloated, inefficient, and riddled with political risk. We, on the other hand, represent the future."

Sterling frowned.

"So, you're determined to crush him?"

"He must be crushed," Vance said unequivocally. "We will bankrupt him, destroy his reputation, and turn his Mutual Aid Alliance into a pile of rubble."

Sterling sighed.

"George, have you considered our position in all this?"

"You want to crush him, but we need him alive."

"If you crush him, Pennsylvania's revival plan will grind to a halt. All the factories will shut down."

"Then who's going to buy my coal? Who's going to use my gas?"

It was a deadlock.

The energy sector needed industrial expansion, and industrial expansion needed the support of Leo's policies.

The pharmaceutical sector needed monopoly profits, and monopoly profits required the failure of Leo's reforms.

On the small fulcrum that was Leo, their interests collided irreconcilably.

Vance looked at Sterling, the contempt in his eyes turning to hostility.

"So you're dead set on siding with that barbarian?"

"I'm on the side of profit," Sterling replied. "Just like you."

"Fine."

Vance straightened his tie and picked up his briefcase.

"If there's nothing to discuss, then there's no need to talk."

He turned and walked toward the door, his movements crisp and decisive.

Sterling remained on the sofa, watching Vance's back with a blank expression.

He had anticipated this outcome long ago.

Before he even walked into this lounge, he knew that the pharmaceutical companies wouldn't compromise, at least not at this stage.

Their arrogance was rooted in their business model; their profits were built on a fortress of information asymmetry.

Concession was suicide.

This meeting was less a negotiation and more of a probe—a necessary procedure to confirm the enemy's resolve.

Sterling picked up the glass from the table and downed the remaining whiskey in one go.

He needed to take this result, along with Vance's crush-Leo-at-all-costs attitude, back with him, exactly as it was.

This was a life-or-death battle between titans.

He couldn't decide anything himself.

Sterling stood up and also left the lounge.

The next time he saw Vance, it might be in the defendant's chair in a Federal Court, or at a hearing on Capitol Hill.

...

「Houston. A private, hundred-acre estate on the outskirts of the city.」

This was the meeting room for the National Energy Association.