Gerald Richman, with his own campaign team’s director and deputy director, and Rona Kennedy’s campaign manager Tom Chafee, as well as Jeff Rush’s campaign team’s external liaison Louise as intermediary, took the initiative to visit Martin Hart. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Gerald Richman’s purpose for this visit was very clear: just give him a chance to be a hot guest on BT television network news program to explain his previous remarks, let him keep his base, and anything could be discussed. For this, he had even cleaned up his sister-in-law; if Martin was willing, she was ready for him to enjoy at any time. Regarding the current campaign, he could drop out immediately and call on his black supporters to switch their support to Jeff Rush.

He could not lose the support of the black community, could not lose the reputation he had painstakingly built up over the years. American politics are incredibly pragmatic; once these were lost, he would be of no use to the Democratic Party, and he could forget about getting any more chances from them.

Fortunately, Jeff Rush’s campaign manager was also black; everyone had dark skin, and that guy was rumored to be the vice president of the BT television network. If he conceded gracefully now and campaigned for Jeff Rush, securing the other side’s favor, there might be a chance for him in the next election with their support.

So this time, Gerald Richman was practically full of sincerity when he proactively sought refuge with Martin Hart, the political master in his eyes, hoping Martin Hart would give him a way out for the sake of their shared black brotherhood.

But when he arrived, Martin was listening to his own boss Tommy curse someone out on the phone.

Even when his subordinates notified Martin that Gerald Richman and others had arrived at the private gallery where Tommy had attended the Bill Couple’s cocktail party, and that Martin should hurry over so as not to be too late and seem impolite, especially since Tom Chafee, under Rona Kennedy’s direction, had arranged this meeting following David Kennedy’s instructions, and although Gerald Richman could be treated arrogantly, it was unnecessary to slightly upset David Kennedy over it.

However, Martin did not heed his subordinates’ urging; he insisted on hearing out his boss Tommy’s string of curses, as it was the first time he realized that Tommy, who came from Warwick City, Rhode Island, didn’t need any help at all when it came to swearing, as he was even better at it than Martin was.

From the moment he received a call from a guy named Dennis Herbs, Tommy had been ranting non-stop for two minutes. Not a single word was filthy; each word on its own was civilized. But strung together, it sounded like Michael Jackson’s white skin, which could never hide the fact that he was black.

By the same principle, even the most civilized words coming out of Tommy’s mouth formed sentences that sounded viciously vulgar.

"Alright, I’m done cursing. Now, you can tell me, why are you calling me, Dennis, when your black subordinate Glen has been locked up?"

"You expect me to pay for a lawyer from Indiana to go to Beirut, Lebanon, and explain to your superiors some damn American law to prove Glen didn’t commit a crime? Which law?"

"You got Glen a seventeen-year-old bride from Lebanon, then Glen had a fling with that bride, which got caught on camera by some anti-American journalist sympathetic to Syria, who also interviewed the bride’s family. Subsequently, the newspaper slammed American soldiers for alleged violations against women in Lebanon. To silence the Lebanese public, your superiors locked up Glen alone?"

"Buddy, the United States sent you to Lebanon to avenge those dead Americans, not to go making half-breeds! Most importantly, what the hell does this have to do with a lawyer from Indiana?"

"In Indiana, state law says any man over eighteen who has relations with a girl under eighteen must ensure she is wearing socks and shoes at the time, otherwise it’s a felonious act? Glen is from Indiana, and you’re willing to testify for him that you saw with your own eyes she had shoes on her feet when he was in bed with the bride, she wasn’t completely naked?"

"This law sounds like the love child of humanitarian concern and black comedy,"

"Listen, Dennis, I know Glen is important to you. He was your loyal black classmate at West Point who progressed with you, but do you know how much it costs to send a lawyer from Indiana to Beirut, Lebanon—a place the United States has deemed dangerous since 1983 and continuously warns its citizens to avoid? I don’t know the exact figure, but I’m sure it’s more expensive than Glen’s life. And I think Glen isn’t going to be executed by your superiors over this minor issue; at most, he’d be locked up for a few weeks and then released..."

"What?"

"What do you mean a lot of you would die if he was locked up for a few weeks?"

"Did the great United States Army send you to Beirut to do business with the opposition forces? Out of the five opposition groups entrenched near Beirut, you are now dealing with three of them, and Glen is your chosen negotiator? So, you’re betraying the movements of the Lebanese National Army and the French troops in Beirut, creating problems for the French and the National Army in exchange for them staying away from your base?"

"By Torglenn’s fortune, over forty soldiers of the French Foreign Legion died because of this, but your base hasn’t been attacked for two months. If Glen doesn’t go out to deal with those people, are you scared to leave the base to grab a drink at the bar?"

"I don’t want to listen anymore, Dennis. Remember this number, the guy’s name is Wilson Block. He can help get Glen out. Don’t call me again, I’m busy, I’m making Florida great."

"Get the number right, that’s it, I’m hanging up. And for the last time, I don’t fucking have any weed channels! Nor will I airdrop ten camcorders and several hundred boxes of the latest movie tapes as gifts to you! Goodbye!"

As Tommy hung up the phone in anger, Martin stood up and walked towards the door, "I pay so much tax every year, and this is the kind of officer the United States Government picks to defend the country? By selling out our French allies’ information to the enemy in exchange for not being harassed? Such military tactics are indeed crystal clear."

Grumbling to himself, he made it to the door, stopped abruptly, and turned to look at Tommy, whose face still held traces of anger. Tommy glanced at him, "What?"

"Hold on, Boss, I’ve realized that it’s not just military tactics but also applicable politically. Democratic white candidate Jeff Rush sells out the black Democratic candidate Gerard Richman, then somehow manages to get the support of the black community. I mean, you and Dennis on the phone are using the same tactics," Martin remarked as if a thought struck him.

Tommy irritably lit a cigarette, "What are you trying to say?"

"Nothing, just that America is lucky to have brave soldiers like your friend Dennis in the military and nice people like you in politics, who enjoy helping fools who believe in flat Earth theories," Martin opened his mouth to speak and although Page wasn’t there, he still didn’t dare say anything to anger Tommy, so he forced himself to say:

"It’s the country’s good fortune."