Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 159 The Big One is Coming

Blue Ridge Villa, Texas.

The thin mist in the suburbs had not yet dissipated, making the scenery seem as if it were covered with a layer of wax paper.

President McCain sat in the head seat, wearing reading glasses, and was looking down at today's news summary.

Republican candidate Seaville stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, one hand in his suit trouser pocket.

"Have you seen the reports about Blair's death?" he asked, his tone restrained, but his anxiety was palpable.

"The Democrats are putting on a very convincing act, appearing heartbroken, lowering their flags to half-mast, and seeing a surge in donations."

“I know the data,” McCann nodded. “In the past 72 hours, platform traffic has surged sixfold, with 30% of those being first-time users.”

"What about us?"

"As you can imagine."

Severn was silent for a few seconds, then walked to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

"I sent a text message in response."

He swallowed hard, his expression becoming even more uncertain.

"But it was deleted by the media manager, who said that 'it is not appropriate to express doubts about the deceased during an emotionally sensitive period.'"

Upon hearing this, McCann chuckled coldly twice and did not respond.

The room was quiet for a while.

"How's Natalie doing?" McCann suddenly asked, changing the subject.

“She’s still here,” Severn said.

"Still there?"

"Still in the interrogation room, JFFT has made no progress."

“I called the deputy director, and he suddenly became reluctant to answer.”

“They said things like ‘the process is underway,’ ‘supplementary instructions are needed,’ and ‘the long-term public opinion impact needs to be assessed.’”

“Public opinion?” McCann leaned back in his chair, squinting. “They’re simply hedging their bets; there are less than ten days until the vote.”

“We didn’t even ask them to carry out the execution!” Severn complained repeatedly.

"It's nothing more than a stress test to make her sweat and then say something useful."

He looked very angry.

Perhaps because this controversy truly impacted his election.

McCann said calmly, "They're afraid of leaving a trace. If you lose, they'll dig up old dirt and accuse you of abusing your power."

“A cowardly agent might as well quit and become a broadcaster,” Sevier cursed.

“It’s not their fault,” McCann said, offering a rare moment of solace to the technocrats. “That woman is no longer an individual, but a symbol.”

"A fighter for freedom of speech, a hero, and the last American citizen who still dares to speak the truth."

As he spoke, he pulled a few pages of color printouts from the pile of documents and tossed them to Severn.

Those are screenshots from several social media posts:
——"#SheIsUs"

— “#SilencedButNotBroken”

“She’s still alive, and she’s more like a martyr than Blair.”

Sevier glanced at it, his lips twitching slightly.

"Who leaked this information?"

“Of course, they’re staff.” McCann’s tone was flat, revealing neither joy nor anger.

"Someone secretly uploaded video footage of her detention to the news organization's backend."

"and then?"

"And then, we have the current situation."

McCann sighed as he finished speaking.

"The Democrats held an emergency hearing in the House of Representatives this morning."

"They accuse us of 'detaining innocent journalists' and 'suppressing freedom of information'."

"This is really something new."

After he finished speaking, the room fell into an awkward silence.

The mist is showing signs of dissipating.

As the sunlight streamed down, the treetops in the distance gradually came into view.

Finally, Sevier couldn't hold back any longer and asked somewhat anxiously, "So what do you plan to do?"

McCann took off his glasses and placed them on the document.

He stared out the window at the gray, overgrown woods. "Do nothing."

Severn was taken aback.

"What do you mean by 'doing nothing'?!"

"With the election approaching, you're telling me to just sit here and watch them turn me into the next Nixon?"

McCann smiled and said, "No, you're not yet."

Severus's face turned ashen, but he forced himself not to retaliate.

"Are you aware of the current polling trends?" he asked, trying to remain as calm as possible.

"My chances of winning are slim."

"This is not to blame anyone, but several key swing states are not satisfied with the economic policies you have implemented over the past four years."

McCann remained silent, as if he had no intention of responding to the conversation.

"The industrial belt is still suffering from the aftereffects of the 'restructuring of production capacity' policy."

"The Southwest is extremely opposed to the budget plan."

“Even in Texas, voices have begun to question the expansion of private military contracts.”

This time, McCann spoke up, his tone almost sarcastic: "So how do you want me to help?"

“It’s just a matter of a few words.” Severus took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “I need your support.”

McCann shook his head.

“Mike,” he said, “I thought you knew better than anyone else that I’m not someone who’s swayed by circumstances.”

Severn stared intently at him, his breathing slowing slightly.

A few seconds later, he pushed the chair back and stood up abruptly.

"Hey!"

The metal scraped against the wooden floor, making a sharp sound.

"You really aren't."

"You're the kind of person who can freeze healthcare funds with executive orders, invoke a state of emergency to interfere with energy policy, and shut down internal investigations on the grounds of national security."

“Remember, if we hadn’t cleared those procedural obstacles for you, you wouldn’t even have the chance to sit here today.”

Upon hearing this, McCann's gaze suddenly sharpened, and his aura changed drastically.

"What are you implying?"

Severe looked at him disdainfully, without flinching.

"I am making it clear."

"Do you think you won the 2004 election with dignity?"

"Forty-eight hours before the vote, the polls showed the team trailing by several points, but when the votes were counted—"

"Guess why Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Arizona are all showing positive signs?"

There was silence in the room for a few seconds.

McCann slowly stood up, a small movement that made Seaville instinctively hold his breath.

Then, he walked up to Severus and looked down at him:
“You’re right, I did use all available resources.”

"But you're wrong to think that I owe them something."

"I've gotten to where I am today not because they trusted me."

"It's because they know I dare to make decisions they don't."

"I also understand that if this country is to continue to be great, someone has to be willing to go to hell."

"Unfortunately, you are not the one."

"So, if you don't want to become the next Nixon, you'd better not force me to take sides."

As soon as he finished speaking, McCann picked up his coat hanging on the back of the chair and walked out without looking back.

Reaching the gate, he paused, then added almost indifferently:
“There’s one last thing, Mike.”

"Keep a low profile lately."

"This country is no longer suitable for candidates to show their faces everywhere."

"Are you threatening me?!" Severus laughed angrily.

"No, take it as a friendly reminder."

McCann tilted his head slightly, his voice very soft, as if talking to himself:

“Something big is about to happen, and I can sense it.”

(End of this chapter)