An old-fashioned diner off Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington D.C.

Leo sat in a corner booth, a half-eaten plate of fried eggs in front of him.

The seat across from him was empty.

He was waiting for someone.

9:45 AM.

A middle-aged man in a dark gray trench coat pushed the door open and walked in.

He looked to be in his fifties, with graying hair, heavy bags under his eyes, and a rolled-up copy of the Washington Post in his hand.

He walked straight to Leo’s table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

"I’ll have a black coffee, no sugar," he said to the approaching waiter, then placed the newspaper on the edge of the table.

He was the White House Chief of Staff, David Stern, one of the most powerful men in the country.

"Mayor Wallace." Stern picked up a napkin from the table and wiped his hands, his tone flat. "You’ve got a lot of nerve."

Leo put down his fork.

"Good morning, Mr. Stern."

"Sanders gave me a call." Stern’s voice betrayed no emotion. "He said you’re planning to jump ship? You’re going to announce you’re joining the Republican Party at a press conference, all for a port project?"

Stern lifted his gaze, his eyes flashing with a cold light.

"Young man, you haven’t even learned how to walk in Washington, and you’re already trying to learn how to shoot. Blackmailing the White House is a dangerous game."

"This isn’t blackmail."

Leo looked at the powerful man calmly.

"It’s survival."

"My city is dying, Mr. Stern. And it’s not a natural death; it’s being murdered. The administrative bureaucrats in Pennsylvania, the ones who answer to Monroe, are strangling Pittsburgh with administrative reviews."

"I have no choice."

Leo leaned back in his chair.

"I have leverage."

"A sixty percent approval rating from the blue-collar workers in Western Pennsylvania, around Allegheny County."

"What if I hold a press conference next Monday and announce that the Democratic Party has betrayed the working class? That the bureaucracy in Harrisburg is destroying jobs?"

"Then, I’ll do exclusive interviews and go on talk shows every night to condemn your hypocrisy."

"What do you think will happen then?"

"Mr. Stern, you know better than I do that once this fire is lit, it won’t just burn in Pennsylvania."

"Ohio, Michigan, Wisconsin... the entire Rust Belt is watching."

"If the Mayor of Pittsburgh, a Democratic stronghold, is forced to turn his back on the Democratic Party just for trying to put food on workers’ tables, what will the Republicans do? They’ll print my face on every campaign flyer and slap it on every factory gate in the Midwest!"

"When that happens, you’ll lose a lot more than just a single Senate seat in Pennsylvania."

"You’ll lose the trust of the entire blue-collar class. You’ll face an avalanche."

"To stop me from getting a mere five hundred million US Dollars, are you really willing to pay the price of losing your Senate majority, and maybe even the presidential election two years from now?"

Stern fell silent.

The waiter brought his coffee. He lifted the cup, took a sip, and his brow furrowed slightly.

He was assessing the risk.

Leo was right. The current electoral situation was too fragile.

Inflation was high, public discontent was simmering, and the Democratic Party’s approval rating in the Rust Belt had hit an all-time low.

If a popular young mayor from Pittsburgh, a man seen as a "hero of the workers," were to switch sides at a critical moment like this, it would be a public relations disaster.

The Republican Party would prop him up on a pedestal, turning him into a living specimen of the Democratic Party’s failures.

The White House couldn’t afford to lose.

Stern put down his coffee cup.

"Alright."

He took a notebook from his pocket, flipped to a page, and picked up his pen.

"We can’t have you jumping ship."

"That damned administrative review... Harrisburg will withdraw it within five days. You can issue your bonds."

Stern crossed out a line in his notebook.

Leo felt his heart skip a beat, but his expression remained calm.

"Thank you."

"Don’t thank me yet."

Stern looked up, his eyes fixed on Leo.

"There’s no such thing as a free lunch in Washington, Mr. Mayor. You’ve named your price to the White House, and now we’re naming ours."

"If you want us to back off, you need to help us solve a problem."

"What problem?" Leo asked.

"John Murphy."

Stern spat out the name.

Leo’s pupils contracted slightly.

"Our candidate for Senator in Pennsylvania was decided long ago," Stern said, his tone cold. "It’s Aston Monroe. He’s a rising star the party is grooming, and he’s the best person to beat the Republicans statewide."

"But that Representative, Murphy, keeps stirring up trouble."

"He used to be a compliant congressman, but he’s changed since he started running with you. He wants to ride your momentum in Pittsburgh, ride the tailwinds of those five hundred million dollars in bonds, and run for Senator."

"This is severely disrupting the party’s strategic deployment."

Stern closed his notebook.

"We want Murphy to drop out of the race."

"Completely out."

"He can continue to be a Representative. The party will guarantee his seat in the House of Representatives is safe. We can even give him a subcommittee chairmanship to retire into."

"But he can’t touch the Senate."

"Absolutely not."

"That seat is reserved for Monroe."

Beneath the table, Leo’s fingers tightened into a fist.

"Murphy is my ally," Leo said. "He’s the one who helped me navigate the connections in Washington. He’s the one who contacted Sanders for me."

"I know." Stern was unmoved. "That’s why you’re the only one who can make him stop."