Chapter 779: Quick!

Washington D.C., Underground West Wing of the White House.

At 2:00 a.m., John Murphy leaned against the cold wall. His suit jacket was draped over his arm, and his tie was loosened. He wasn’t in the Situation Room. As a newly minted Senator, he didn’t yet have the clearance to push open that heavy blast door and participate in the top-tier, closed-door meetings that decided the life and death of the nation, or even the global order.

However, he did possess one thing: hallway access.

It was an unofficial privilege granted to a select few core members of the Senate Intelligence Committee. He only needed to stand here and “bump into” the people walking out after a meeting concluded. Sometimes, a sigh, a look, or a careless remark contained more information than hundreds of pages of official briefings. He had been waiting here for four hours.

Finally, the door at the end of the corridor opened. Several figures walked out briskly, their footsteps sounding somewhat disorganized in the empty hallway. Murphy straightened up. He spotted a familiar face—the Defense Department’s Deputy Assistant Secretary for Middle East Affairs.

The man was walking toward him at a rapid pace. His tie was askew, his shirt was half-untucked from his waistband, and his face was as pale as paper. Murphy stepped forward to meet him.

“What happened?” Murphy lowered his voice, acting on a tacit understanding shared between politicians.

The Deputy Assistant Secretary didn’t stop. He merely tilted his head slightly as he passed Murphy, his voice dropping to barely a whisper.

“He watched the video,” the assistant said, his voice trembling slightly. “The video of that man being executed.” He paused for a second, his footsteps faltering to match. “John, do you know the look on the President’s face at that moment? It’s hard for me to describe.”

“And…?” Murphy pressed, his heartbeat beginning to accelerate.

The Deputy Assistant Secretary turned around.

“He said, ‘Give me options.'” The assistant’s voice was even lower than before, sounding almost like a raspy friction in his throat. “Not ‘give me an analysis,’ nor ‘give me an assessment.’ ‘Give me options.’ John—” He leaned in closer to Murphy, speaking in a tone only the two of them could hear. “Central Command can execute within forty-eight hours.”

After saying this, the Deputy Assistant Secretary turned and quickly disappeared down the end of the corridor, as if fleeing from some monster.

Murphy stood rooted to the spot. “Give me options.” In the context of the White House, this phrase meant that the President had already decided to strike, and they only needed to tell him how to do it. Murphy took a deep breath, feeling as though the air in the corridor had suddenly turned scalding hot.

He pulled out the encrypted phone used exclusively for contacting Leo. The screen lit up. He typed a single word and pressed send.

[Hurry]

…

Pittsburgh, Mayor’s Office at City Hall.

Leo Wallace sat in his large leather chair, staring at the text message that had just popped up. It was only one word, yet it carried immense weight. He set the phone down and rose to walk over to the massive floor-to-ceiling window. Outside, the nightscape of Pittsburgh was brightly illuminated. In the distance, the smokestacks spewing white plumes once again traced the silhouette of the industrial city’s revival.

This was his city, his fortress.

“What is it?” Roosevelt’s voice echoed in his mind. Just moments ago, they had been discussing how to exploit the impending war panic to reap more political capital for themselves.

“The timeline is moving faster than I anticipated.” Leo’s voice was as placid as a stagnant pool. “The man in Washington has had enough of restraint and is ready to push the button.”

He lightly traced his finger across the glass.

“Let’s begin, Mr. President.

“All preparations, all capital operations—accelerate everything.

“We must pull the net tight before the first missile lands.”

…

Thirty thousand feet above the Atlantic Ocean.

A C-32 government plane that had taken off from Andrews Air Force Base was flying steadily eastward above the clouds. Daniel O’Brien sat in a spacious leather seat, pretending to flip through a magazine. He was a Federation Representative from New York and a key figure in the Progressives’ caucus.

After Leo had integrated the Progressives and bound them to Pennsylvania’s industrial capital, the faction’s prestige and voice on Capitol Hill had reached unprecedented heights.

This time, O’Brien had been invited to join a congressional Middle East security briefing delegation organized by the Defense Department. Nominally, they were en route to visit the headquarters of the United States Navy’s Fifth Fleet in Bahrain. But O’Brien knew the playbook all too well. It was the Pentagon’s classic method of dropping hints to key lawmakers ahead of a major military operation. They needed the support of Congress, or at the very least, its non-opposition.

Sitting next to him was a naval rear admiral. The rear admiral looked relaxed as he sipped his coffee. Spread out on his tray table was a document. Printed at the top in striking red letters were the words: UNCLASSIFIED / FOR OFFICIAL USE ONLY.

Although unclassified, such documents often contained the most actionable combat information.

O’Brien turned a page of his magazine, his peripheral vision sweeping covertly across the rear admiral’s table. He had excellent eyesight. In an instant, the dense clusters of acronyms and numbers transformed in his eyes into a highly impactful jigsaw puzzle of war.

List of Deployed Assets (Summary):

CVN-72 Lincoln Carrier Strike Group: In position, North Arabian Sea.

CVN-78 Ford Carrier Strike Group: En route.

DDG Ship-launched Tomahawk Cruise Missiles: Capable of striking deep into Iran.

THAAD and Patriot Systems: Qatar Al-Udeid Base.

Daily Sortie Capacity: Approx. 800 flights.