Chapter 285: Chapter 144: Manhattan Project 4

Leo felt a chill.

It wasn’t just the cold of the weather, but the hollow exhaustion that comes after risking everything.

He had bet it all, pushing all his chips onto that unseen highway, onto those drivers he had never met.

He trusted them, just as they trusted him.

"They’ll come."

Leo said, his voice hoarse.

Ethan opened his mouth, about to offer some rational analysis—a risk assessment, perhaps, or a backup plan.

Just then.

A single point of light appeared in the distant darkness.

It was faint, flickering on the winding river valley road like a lost star.

Frank shot to his feet, the cigarette falling from his lips.

"Look over there!"

Someone shouted.

Then, a second beam of light appeared.

A third.

A fourth.

The points of light multiplied in the darkness, connecting, converging.

Within seconds, the once-silent highway in the distance was completely illuminated.

It was a ribbon of light.

A winding, flowing river of fire formed by countless headlights.

It pierced the darkness on the outskirts of Pittsburgh, surging toward the river valley with an unstoppable momentum.

"HOOOONK—!"

A loud blast from an air horn tore through the night sky.

Followed by a second, and a third.

A chorus of air horns echoed between the riverbanks, the roar of diesel engines, the rumble of heavy tires on pavement.

"They’re here!"

Frank roared, his voice trembling.

"Brothers! The trucks are here!"

The first truck, a red International heavy-duty caked in mud, burst through the construction site gates.

Its body was massive, the trailer piled high with heavy H-beams.

The driver pushed the door open and jumped down. It was the big, bearded man, his eyes bloodshot but a wild grin on his face.

"So this is Pittsburgh?" the big man boomed.

"Heard you were short on steel? I brought you the best steel from Erie!"

Behind it was a second truck, loaded with cement from Scranton.

A third, hauling glass and pipes from Johnston.

There was even a flatbed, normally used for lumber, with several secondhand generators strapped to it.

They had broken through state police checkpoints and ignored the association’s ban. On this cold night, they were transfusing the lifeblood of the entire Rust Belt back into the dying heart of Pittsburgh.

"Unload!"

Frank waved his arms like a general commanding a vast army.

Hundreds of workers let out a deafening cheer and rushed toward the trucks.

They clambered onto the truck beds, untied the ropes, shouldered bags of cement, and hauled steel bars.

The drivers joined in too.

These men, who usually cut each other off on the road and argued red-faced over freight fees in the yards, were now united.

Some pulled out cigarettes, passing them to the strangers beside them.

Others took out thermoses of coffee, handing them to the sweat-drenched laborers.

They slapped each other on the back, told crude jokes, and cursed that bastard Morganfield, cursed the world that didn’t want them to survive.

The entire construction site transformed into a seething square of activity.

It was a raw, fervent celebration belonging to the working man.

Leo stood on high, watching the scene unfold.

The beam of a searchlight caught his face, illuminating two clear streams of tears.

In that moment, he felt the power.

"Leo."

Roosevelt’s voice echoed in his mind.

"Remember this."

"This is something Morganfield will never understand."

"And it’s the reason he is destined to lose."

"Capital is powerful."

"It can buy peak efficiency, the tightest laws, and even half the government."

"But the power of capital has its limits."

"When people work for profit, Morganfield is invincible. He has the money, so he sets the price."

"But..."

"When people stop working for profit and instead unite for survival, for dignity, for a chance to leave their children a future..."

"...the monopoly of capital becomes fragile."

"It will be torn to shreds by this most primitive survival instinct."

Roosevelt’s voice grew impassioned.

"This is also a Manhattan Project, Leo."

"Not to build an atomic bomb, but to build a consensus."

"Tonight, you didn’t just bring in steel and cement."

"You brought something far more precious and scarce to this land."

"Class consciousness."

"You made them realize they are one. The drivers from Erie and the workers in Pittsburgh—they share a common enemy and a common destiny."

"Once you have that..."

Roosevelt delivered his final assertion.

"...it’s impossible for you to lose."

"Because no force can stop a group of people who know what they are fighting for."