Chapter 1073: Generosity and Pettiness

Upon returning to the ballroom, Senator Cleveland waved to Lance from a distance. Lance gave Barbara a look and walked toward the Senator first.

Senator Cleveland had been drinking that evening, and his face was slightly flushed. He held his wine glass and grasped Lance's arm.

Lance greeted the people around the Senator.

Subsequently, Senator Cleveland deliberately pulled him aside to a quiet area. "Did the President speak with you?"

Lance nodded. "I just came from there."

A smile appeared on Senator Cleveland's face; he seemed pleased with the expected outcome. "I guessed he must have talked to you about the Gold Heart Medal."

"Well?"

"When will he give it to you?"

Lance's gaze lingered on the Senator's face for a moment. He didn't answer immediately. It was this slight pause in the dialogue that made Senator Cleveland's brows furrow.

"What happened?" If he couldn't spot Lance's abnormality, he likely wouldn't have risen to his current position.

In a mere two or three seconds, he sensed the anomaly.

Lance was unsure if this was a performance by the Senator or if he genuinely knew nothing. "The President said that awarding the Gold Heart Medal is a very important and serious matter."

"He said it wasn't suitable for me to receive this medal, especially given my current sensitive identity."

"You know, gang leader."

Senator Cleveland's eyebrows knitted even tighter after hearing this. "This was not part of my plan. I need to go ask him. Wait here for me."

Lance initially tried to dissuade him. "If he refused, just let it go. It's not something I absolutely must have."

But Senator Cleveland clearly disagreed. "You may not want it, but I told him that whether he wanted to give it to you or not, he had to tell me first, and he didn't do that."

"I need to ask him what led him to make this decision. This is no longer just your business; it's mine too!"

Lance stopped trying to obstruct him. "Alright, I'll wait for you here."

"Try not to argue with him. Now is not the time."

Senator Cleveland had already turned to leave, but stopped at Lance's words. He slowly turned back, looking at Lance with suspicion, unsure if his guess was correct.

He stared at Lance for a few seconds. "Wait for me here." He then walked toward the private rooms again.

When he reached the door, the President's aide stopped him. "The President currently has a guest."

Senator Cleveland stared at the aide for a couple of seconds, then walked to the door and lit a cigarette. "I hope they finish their conversation before I finish this cigarette. Our time is very valuable."

The aide keenly picked up on the Senator's displeasure, and his scalp prickled.

He had actually advised the President to pretend to be completely uninvolved until the armistice agreement was signed tomorrow. Once the armistice was official, the highly centralized power granted to the President by the Federal Constitution during wartime—essentially dictatorial power—would formally end.

The forthcoming period would see a direct confrontation between the Presidential Office and Congress, where Congress invariably held the upper hand. Crucially, the President's term was due to end this year.

His term should have ended much earlier, but the Federation's entry into the war extended it by three years, making him one of the longest-serving Presidents in Federal history, totaling eleven years.

However, regardless of how long he served, the moment he left the Presidential Palace at the end of the year, all the power he currently possessed would become a nebulous past.

He might still have some favors to call in, but he had alienated many within and outside his party by using questionable methods to secure his re-election during the mid-term elections.

If he remained discreet until his retirement, perhaps, given the war victory and the lack of trouble he caused others, his successors might leave him alone.

But if he was too active now, constantly stirring things up and unable to stop, the next President might choose to settle scores over his past issues.

This often happened during the change of power among the three parties; the newly elected President settling scores with the previous President was almost standard practice.

Only a few low-key, emotionally intelligent Presidents who knew how to protect themselves maintained any political influence after retirement.

But this was difficult in practice.

Having wielded the highest power in the country and tasted that feeling, it was hard to truly let go.

Power was the most dangerous poison in the human world; once tasted, one either continued to consume it or died.

Other retiring Presidents had their parties to protect them. The current President, however, had strained relations even with his own party, so remaining discreet was the best choice.

But it seemed he didn't want to be discreet.

Now Senator Cleveland had come calling, and his tone was unfriendly, making the aide extremely nervous.

People like them lacked inherent power. Even though they seemed to have influence in the Federal political scene now, their influence would dwindle rapidly once they were no longer associated with the President or the President left office.

So, the aide clearly understood that they should avoid conflict with rising politicians whenever possible.

Regrettably, the President did not seem to share this view.

Senator Cleveland stood by the door, smoking silently. As the cigarette burned down, the President's aide grew anxious.

He opened the door slightly, apologetically walked in, approached the President, bent down, and whispered in his ear, "Senator Cleveland is waiting for you at the door. He is very upset."

The President nodded slightly, then smiled at the gentleman across from him. "In any case, we'll proceed with this arrangement for now. If there are any new developments, I will call you or have someone contact you."

He stood up. The gentleman also stood, proactively extending both hands and shaking the President's hand. "Thank you very much, Mr. President."

The President shook his hand and patted his arm. "Stay in touch. I won't walk you out."

The visitor said, "Goodbye," and quickly left. He knew there must be someone waiting outside; the conversation being abruptly interrupted when the aide entered was a clear sign.

The door was quickly pushed open. Senator Cleveland saw the man emerging, and the man, seeing the Senator, paused and quickly bowed slightly. "Good evening, Senator."

Senator Cleveland recognized him but merely nodded, showing no intention of shaking hands, and walked directly into the room.

When the President saw Senator Cleveland enter, he casually motioned for him to sit down. "Why are you here? I thought you were socializing outside."

Senator Cleveland looked at him. "I've had some drinks, you know. Alcohol makes me less calm and rational when I act."

This was the classic case of someone stating they have a temper before hitting someone.

The President laughed, acting as if he hadn't heard the underlying meaning. "Interesting!"

He curled his lip. "You're here about Lance's Gold Heart Medal, aren't you?"

Senator Cleveland sat on the sofa and took a drag from his cigarette. "We discussed this before. You said there was no problem."

"Lance is a very capable young man. What he has done qualifies him for a Gold Heart Medal. I don't think this is an excessive request."

"Don't give me that line about gangs, immigrants, or anything else. Even a prisoner who makes an outstanding contribution to this country can get a medal, and Lance hasn't even been to jail yet!"

"Your sudden change of mind puts me in a very awkward position."

The President listened to him seriously, then replied, "Jeffrey, you know me. I wouldn't do this without a compelling reason."

"In fact, didn't Congress and various government departments already discuss the re-establishment of social order and rules after the war?"

"We don't actually need so many gangs anymore. We haven't needed them since the year 1000!"

"We used to need gangs to do things we couldn't conveniently do, but now?"

"Do you really think we still need them?"

In the past, politicians and capitalists needed gangs to capture slaves, guard them, and kill runaway slaves.

Slave-catching squads active in various regions had naturally evolved into gangs, and they remained active.

By the year 1000, slavery was largely abolished, but society was still unstable, and gangs were needed to help the government and capitalists do things they couldn't publicly manage.

For instance, punishing people who refused to work quietly, dealing with troublemakers in factories, and the biggest use: suppressing strikes.

Strikes and demonstrations were civil rights written into the Federal Constitution; no one had the authority to stop them.

If a factory or mine experienced a large-scale strike, it would cause huge losses to the capitalists and society.

Therefore, stopping strikes as soon as they showed signs of starting was crucial, and this was the gangs' main job.

Lance gained attention from the top because he promptly stopped the dockworkers' major strike, brutally crushing it using the simplest, most violent methods—just as the gangs had always done.

The government couldn't do it, but the gangs could operate with impunity.

However, with social development and the war victory, the Federal government's power and prestige had peaked, and their control over society had been significantly strengthened.

Conversely, the gangs had gradually begun to break free from the control of the government and capitalists over the years. They developed their own agendas and engaged in various criminal activities to reap immense profits that shouldn't have been theirs.

Congress already had a plan to crack down on, or rather, purge, the gangs after the war, eliminating a portion of those involved in serious criminal activities.

This was a consensus among them.

Senator Cleveland took a deep drag from his cigarette. "Lance is different from ordinary gangs. They are unique."

The President curled his lip. "Do you even believe that yourself?"

"I have seen the files related to the Lance family. Murder, crime, theft, smuggling—all sorts of criminal and illegal businesses. You say they are unique, but they are no different from ordinary gangs."

"The only difference is that you know Lance, and you don't know the leaders of the other gangs. That's all!"

"If we award Lance the Gold Heart Medal, and then we crack down on the gangs, what will people think if they find out?"

"If even they know Lance is a gang leader, how could we not know?"

"If we award him the Gold Heart Medal knowing he's a gang leader, won't the public suspect that we have some kind of connection with him?"

"Furthermore, during the subsequent crackdown on gangs, do we arrest Lance or not?"

"If other gangs, like the Five Families, also manage to acquire Gold Heart Medals through some means, what should we do?"

The President seemed genuinely concerned about the country and society. "So, I believe the decision to award Lance the Gold Heart Medal was somewhat rash."

"It's too important. I cannot agree. Either you wait, and the next President can decide. I, for one, won't do it!"

Senator Cleveland listened to his lengthy, seemingly reasonable explanations. But based on his understanding of the President's character, he was certain that this wasn't the President's own idea; there had to be some other driving force behind his decision.

The Senator just couldn't pinpoint that driving force right now.

But then again, the reasons the President gave were appropriate, and the "explanation" itself was a form of concession, a compromise, lowering his stance to seek an end to this matter.

Senator Cleveland crushed his cigarette in the ashtray. He recalled Lance's final words to him earlier.

His eyes slightly widened, then refocused on the President's face. "That's an utterly pathetic excuse."

"You know it, I know it, and Lance knows it. It's nothing but bullshit, an excuse you're using to mask your real motives and reasons."

The President was scolded but didn't get angry, merely smiling. "Even if we all know it, so what?"

Senator Cleveland stood up. "Fine, whatever makes you happy. I hope you remain happy."

He shook his head and walked toward the door without shaking hands or saying goodbye.

This made the President frown for the first time since the Senator entered. He felt there was a hidden meaning in Senator Cleveland's last comment, but he couldn't decipher it.

He knew, however, that it was certainly not a compliment.

He watched Senator Cleveland's back, shaking his head. This decision had actually been made after discussions with another faction in Congress, and it was influenced by a request from the FBI Director.

Whether he gave Lance the Gold Heart Medal or not was irrelevant to him personally; he was retiring soon anyway.

If people called him out for being incompetent or foolish, it didn't matter. The decision was made, and it couldn't be reversed.

But it was because of these specific requests that he changed his mind.

He sat there contemplating for a moment, then dismissed the matter. Lance White was a small-time figure. If not for Senator Cleveland, a small figure like Lance would never have had the opportunity to sit face-to-face and talk with him!

Having this brief conversation in a private room was already a huge privilege. What more could he possibly expect?

Senator Cleveland emerged from the VIP room and walked over to Lance, lighting another cigarette.

Having drunk quite a bit that evening, the alcohol, combined with the cigarette, brought him both intense pleasure and a measure of composure and rationality.

"I spoke with the President. Someone intervened in this matter. I'm not sure who, but I will find out."

He looked at Lance. "The fact that they blocked your medal is essentially a slight against me. Once I find this person, I will have a talk with them."

"If we can reach an agreement, your medal will still be yours by the end of the year."

"If we can't negotiate..." He looked into Lance's eyes, a fierce glint visible.

Having risen smoothly to this position over several years, he was furious that someone in Congress or the country dared to cross him and undermine him, causing him to lose face.

He pursed his lips and took a deep drag from his cigarette, forcing himself to remain calm and composed.

"We won't discuss this tonight. Tomorrow... in the afternoon, come to my estate. I need to talk to you about something."

Lance nodded. "What time should I come?"

Senator Cleveland thought for a moment. "Sometime after three o'clock. I'll likely be at the Capitol Building before then. If I'm not there, just wait for me; I'll be back shortly."

"Don't let this spoil your mood. Go enjoy yourself now. Didn't he offer you a tax exemption?"

"Then demand a huge one!"

Lance chuckled twice. "I will."

Senator Cleveland patted his arm and left. "Have fun."

Lance then walked toward Barbara, who was chatting with a few young people, his own thoughts still running.

Sometimes he was very generous, but sometimes, he was very petty.

Now, it was time for his petty side to emerge.