Undercurrents

Rosa's apartment in Pittsburgh.

The curtains were drawn tightly shut, keeping out the midday sun.

The dimly lit room was filled with the strong smell of tobacco.

Barney Ross paced back and forth in the cramped living room.

Every few steps, he would stop and look at Frank sitting on the sofa.

Frank Kowalski held the extinguished pipe in his hand, saying nothing.

"Frank".

Barney finally couldn't hold back anymore.

He stopped in front of Frank, his eyes bloodshot.

"What on earth is Leo doing?"

"Twelve hours have passed, and there's still no news from the branch office."

"What's the point of dragging this out? He can keep it a secret for a day, but can he keep it a secret for a month? The FBI and state police will come knocking sooner or later." "This silence is frightening."

Frank held out a hand and gestured twice to Barney.

"sit down."

Barney struggled for a moment, but eventually plopped down on the chair next to him.

"Trust him, Barney."

Frank put the pipe back in his mouth.

"Leo said he has a plan."

"What plan?"

Barney immediately retorted.

"Should we send him away? Or let him take the blame?"

"If he's being sent away, why not use our methods? We've even arranged the smugglers! If he's taking the blame, why not hold a public trial?" "This clandestine detention can only be explained in one way—he's waiting to be sold!"

Frank fell silent.

In fact, he didn't know what Leo was planning to do, because Leo hadn't told him at all.

He was just stubbornly maintaining the facade.

He knew that Barney's group was like a pile of dry tinder soaked in gasoline, and that a single spark could set the whole of Pittsburgh ablaze.

If we let them lose control now and take to the streets to stage some so-called "rescue march," then it's really over.

He must keep them in check.

"Because he is Leo Wallace."

Frank gave a reason that wasn't really a reason.

He stared into Barney's eyes, his tone hardening.

"Because he fixed the road, because he made sure your brothers got their wages."

"Just because of this."

"Shut your mouth and wait."

"Barney, you remember this: even if we're going to hold a demonstration or a riot, it has to be done under Leo's orders. Nobody is allowed to move without his signal!"

Barney opened his mouth, wanting to retort, but ultimately swallowed his words.

He angrily slammed his fist on his thigh and turned away from Frank.

Frank gripped his pipe tightly again.

Even though Barney's questions were like knives, he was not afraid.

He knew Leo was a gambler, a politician, and a man who would sell his soul to the devil.

But he believed that Leo was after a larger stake, not just a few gold coins.

A greater ambition lurked in his heart.

So he's gambling.

He was gambling with his decades of prestige and the trust of the entire union on Leo Wallace's conscience.

If we lose.

If Leo really betrayed them.

The Pittsburgh workers' union will collapse in an instant.

Reagan Tower, Washington, D.C.

FBI Headquarters, Cybercrime Division.

"Sir."

A senior agent sitting in the corner raised his hand.

The supervisor strode over.

"What did you discover?"

"The data from Pittsburgh is anomaly."

The agent pointed to the screen in front of him.

The screen displays a topology map of the traffic monitoring network in downtown Pittsburgh.

"We're tracking Luigi Randall's possible escape route, but a data black hole has appeared in the Pittsburgh data stream." "A black hole?" The supervisor frowned.

"Yes." The agent's hands flew across the keyboard. "During those ten minutes yesterday, none of the traffic cameras in this area uploaded any data."

"Not only the traffic cameras, but also the network surveillance cameras of several nearby convenience stores were all offline during those ten minutes." "This couldn't be an equipment malfunction." The detective concluded, "This was a deliberate physical disconnection; someone unplugged the network cable or cut off the power."

The supervisor narrowed his eyes.

What are the local police covering up?

In a typical criminal case, it wouldn't be necessary to go to such lengths.

This kind of professional-grade physical shielding usually means only one thing.

There are things there that you don't want people to see.

"Can it be restored?" the supervisor asked.

"The cloud data is gone, but I tried to recover the local cached frame from one of the cameras in the last second before the network went down."

The agent pressed the Enter key.

A blurry image popped up on the screen.

In the footage, a Pittsburgh Police Department patrol car is parked on the side of the road.

The back door was open, and a figure was getting out of the car.

The figure was wearing a hoodie, the hood covering the head, so the face was not visible.

"Image enhancement," the supervisor ordered.

The agent activated the image processing software.

The blurred pixels begin to recombine and sharpen.

The figure's outline gradually became clearer.

"The facial recognition system cannot lock on; the angle is too far off."

"That's what the agent said."

"However, we compared postural features and gait analysis."

A red dialog box popped up on the screen.

Match rate: 87%.

Suspected target: Luigi Randall.

The supervisor looked at that number.

87%.

In the intelligence community, this is tantamount to confirmation.

"interesting."

"He's in the hands of the Pittsburgh police."

"They caught the most wanted criminal, but they didn't report it, didn't enter it into the federal system, and even cut off surveillance to cover up their whereabouts." The supervisor picked up the phone on the table.

"Notify the field team."

"The target is Pittsburgh."

"Someone is hiding him."

The supervisor's eyes turned cold.

"Moreover, it was officially concealed."

K Street, a gray office building without any signs, a high-rise conference room.

The heavy soundproof door blocked out all outside noise, and seven or eight men in suits sat around the long table.

They are the chief lobbyists for several of the nation’s largest health insurance companies, and chiefs of staff for several high-ranking members of Congress.

There was no tense atmosphere here; instead, it felt relaxed and even pleasant.

A lobbyist with gray hair and gold-rimmed glasses stood up.

He was the convener of this meeting and a key figure in the medical lobbying group.

He held a freshly printed document in his hand and distributed it to everyone present.

The file title is written in bold:

Critical Infrastructure and Healthcare Workers Safety Protection Act

"Gentlemen."

The lobbyist's voice was gentle and elegant.

"That madman named Luigi helped us a lot."

Everyone present laughed.

They don't care if a CEO dies.

For a large capital group, the CEO is just a high-level employee; if one dies, the next one can be replaced at any time.

What they care about is how to use this corpse to extract greater surplus value.

"Although we have indeed revised some of the terms of the health insurance contract."

The lobbyist pointed to the newspapers on the table, which were full of discussions about "medical justice".

"That's because we need to calm those angry poor people down first."

"If we continue to confront them head-on at this point, it will only embolden them and encourage more Luigis to emerge."

The lobbyist sneered.

"So, we'll give them a little incentive first. We'll revise the terms and pay out in a few cases, showing that we're reflecting on our actions and making improvements."

"We need to cool down the passion that Luigi has ignited, and let them know that there is still hope as long as the rules are followed."

"But, gentlemen."

The lobbyist's eyes turned sinister.

"This is just a delaying tactic."

"We cannot allow this logic of allocating rewards based on who makes the most noise to become the norm."

"Therefore, we need this bigger lock."

The lobbyist pointed to the draft bill in his hand.

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

"We must define this assassination as domestic terrorism."

"We need to turn this into a terrorist attack against the nation's critical infrastructure, namely the healthcare system."

The lobbyist turned to the third page of the bill.

"Take a look at this one."

"Any violent threats, cyberattacks, or inflammatory remarks targeting medical institutions, insurance companies, and their employees will be considered terrorist activities that endanger national security."

A congressman's chief of staff pushed up his glasses and pointed to one of the lines of text.

"Seditious speech? Isn't that definition too broad?"

"It needs to be broad."

The lobbyist gave a meaningful smile.

"Once the bill passes, what constitutes sedition?"

"Does exposing our denial algorithm online constitute inciting hatred?"

"Does organizing patients to protest in front of an insurance company constitute a threat to safety?"

"As long as we have the power of interpretation, these can all be considered acts of terrorism."

The lobbyist's eyes sharpened.

"We must take this opportunity to label everyone who tries to reform healthcare as an accomplice of this evil."

"We will use this bill to completely shut them up."

"agree."

Another lobbyist raised his hand.

"I'll go talk to the people on the Judiciary Committee; it's a perfect entry point."

I agree.

One of the chiefs of staff nodded.

"My boss was just looking for ammunition to attack the progressives, and this bill came at the perfect time."

All eyes turned back to the leading persuader.

"Then it's settled."

The lobbyist tidied up the documents on the table and put the draft bill back into his briefcase.

"I will take this draft back and have the legal team polish it carefully. We need to make sure that every word is impeccable, so that those liberal lawyers can't find any loopholes."

"Everyone, wait for my good news."

Meeting adjourned.

A black sedan speeds through the rain on an interstate highway in Pennsylvania.

Leo Wallace sat alone in the driver's seat, the scenery outside the window rushing past, blurring into a gray patch of color.

The windshield wipers swung in front of me, making a monotonous rhythmic sound.

"You're taking a risk, Leo."

Roosevelt's voice broke the silence in the carriage.

"I know."

"No, you don't understand," Roosevelt's voice held a hint of sternness. "Your trip to Philadelphia now is a huge gamble. Have you really thought about how to talk to her? How can you get her on your side at this sensitive time?"

"I have no other choice, Mr. President."

Leo stepped on the gas, and the car accelerated on the slippery road.

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If we don't seize this opportunity that Luigi has created and rush in now, we may never have another chance in our lives to intervene in healthcare reform."

"That system is too closed and too robust; we usually can't even get close to it."

Roosevelt was silent for a moment, then let out a heavy sigh.

"Of course I know how difficult that is."

"When I implemented the new policy, I also wanted to include medical insurance in the Social Security Law."

"But those guys at the American Medical Association attacked me like mad dogs. They said it was socialized healthcare, a destruction of American freedom."

"In order to preserve the pension system, I had to compromise with them and cut out the healthcare component."

"That's a fortress that even I couldn't breach, Leo."

Roosevelt's voice turned serious.

"You're just a mayor. If you want to attack it now, Evelyn St. Cloud alone isn't enough."

"She's an opportunist, not a revolutionary. She might help you out for profit, but when faced with real pressure, when the entire healthcare consortium starts to fight back, she won't hesitate to sell you off."

"You need more help, you need a stronger backing."

"I know."

Leo looked at the gloomy sky ahead, the outline of Philadelphia appearing and disappearing in the rain and mist.

"I know she's unreliable, and I know she's not enough on her own."

"But I must have her first."

Leo remained calm.

"I'm ready."

"Anyway, this isn't the first time."

"As long as I can blow this fortress apart, I don't mind being the devil's partner again."

The car drove into the shadows of Philadelphia.

A storm is coming.

As for what the future holds, only God knows.