America 1982-Chapter 543 - 109: You Better Really Can
Martin hurriedly pushed open the door to Tommy’s office and rushed in where Tommy was sitting at his desk, flipping through a document. Louise DuVille was slightly leaning over behind Tommy, her chest resting on Tommy’s arm while her finger traced words on the document, apparently pointing out a few words that needed Tommy’s attention.
"The Republican Cuban woman has made her move. She’s attending the party primaries today, so she’s using Jeff’s sufficiently dazzling performance on TV yesterday as a stepping stone to boost the impression of her own TV appearance," Martin said, trying to ignore Louise’s pose as he walked up to Tommy’s desk.
Tommy tossed the document he was holding onto the desk, "I’m still considering how to move forward with blaming Cuban refugees for the spread of AIDS in Florida, figuring out the angle to approach it from."
"That was a problem three minutes ago, boss. The current situation is multiple community outbreaks..." Martin started to relay the new information he had just received when he heard Tommy was still scheming on how to smear the Cuban refugees.
"Vietnam veterans, homeless people waving the banner influenced by Jeff Raven, have beaten up Cubans," Tommy interjected, "Louise just told me about it."
Martin took a seat, glancing at Louise, "Hey, girl, this is an important senior management meeting at Hart Consulting Company. Don’t you think you should excuse yourself during your probation period as a newcomer?"
"I said, if you keep giving him the cold shoulder, he’s bound to target you," Tommy, the gentleman, withdrew his arm from under the oppressive weight of Louise’s chest and teased, "Martin is a simple big boy, with clear love and hatred. By the way, have the admin bring us two cups of coffee when you go out. If you prepare it yourself, maybe Martin and I will be even more touched."
Louise stood up and left the office. Only after the woman had left did Martin lean on the desk, his chin resting on the tabletop, "Boss, we’ve been framed. Jeff and I definitely didn’t have those vets do those things."
"You and Jeff have framed others, and naturally others can frame you. You can’t expect the world to only let you act with impunity," Tommy leaned back in his chair, propping his feet on the desk, just in time for Martin to display his dying expression to Tommy’s shoes.
"Jeff never did such a thing, and we can’t let Jeff admit to any relation with those vets on this matter, but... it might still cause some discontent among the veteran community towards Jeff," Martin raised his head from the desk and spoke with some headache.
Lately, life had been going too smoothly for Martin as Jeff’s campaign manager, so much so that he felt he had the election in the bag. Even when Tommy went off to deal with those messy sects, leaving him to handle all the trivial matters of Jeff’s campaign, he felt he was managing everything perfectly. Even until the day before, he felt he was handling his job as campaign manager smoothly, that he was born for this work and was about to become a big shot, his name to be on the news pages of the Miami Post.
Until the damned news of veterans beating up Cubans broke.
Only upon hearing this news did he suddenly realize that his brain wasn’t capable of coming up with solutions for sudden incidents on the fly, like Tommy could. He was just a miller, without the power to decide how much flour to grind, always needing Tommy to tell him how many guests had arrived at the manor, how many breads the kitchen needed to prepare, and how much flour he, Martin Hart, needed to provide.
Beyond understanding that Jeff should not be associated with the veterans’ assault on the Cubans under any circumstances, he couldn’t think of any further solution.
But he knew that if anyone in Miami could come up with a solution at this time, it would be his boss, Tommy.
"You know that denying Jeff’s connection to those vets will annoy the veteran community, but you’re still planning to do that?" Tommy seemed puzzled by Martin’s thinking, popping a mint candy in his mouth and sucking on it: "If you think it shouldn’t be done, why decide to do it?"
Martin looked at Tommy, not understanding why his boss couldn’t grasp his logic, spreading his hands helplessly, "Intentionally hurting others, boss. A bunch of former soldiers, drunks, junkies, vagrants, beating Cubans in broad daylight, of course you can’t associate Jeff with that. I’m not talking about the reaction of ordinary white folks, just the black community. If Jeff doesn’t distance himself from those old bastards, I’m afraid even the blacks won’t consider voting for him."
"You think it was that Republican woman, Iliana Leti, behind this?" Tommy crumpled the plastic wrapping of his mint candy into a small ball and flicked it toward a decorative picture on the wall.
It was a replica of Picasso’s masterpiece, "Women of Algiers."
The candy wrapper nearly hit the breast of one of the women in the painting, which made Tommy somewhat regretful.
Martin glanced at the painting, not understanding the connection between the name of the painting and its content. He even doubted that the images on the painting were normal human figures, just an ugly nude with various deformed and ugly female torsos, mainly breasts. At that moment, hearing Tommy’s words, he said with certainty:
"Who else could it be? It’s that woman’s party primary today. Veterans beating up Cubans outside the TV station – I can already guess what she’s going to say. She’ll definitely take this chance to rally all the Cubans under her banner."
"What do you think would happen to Jeff if he doesn’t handle this matter well?" Tommy didn’t deny his view but continued to guide the conversation with a neutral tone.
Martin let out a breath of turbid air, "Election defeat."
"You thought of me first when this came up because you think I’m somewhat clever, right?" Tommy smiled as he looked at Martin.
Martin vigorously rubbed his face, "Not just somewhat clever, Boss. Now is not the time for you to be modest. Just the two of us, what should we do?"
"That painting, what did you see?" Tommy raised his hand and pointed at a decorative painting on the wall.
Martin joked distractedly, "A depiction of how atomic bombing and nuclear contamination have disfigured women and children all over the world?"
"You have one in your room too, another version of the same work. I guess you’ve never truly appreciated it," Tommy laughed and said, "Odelia told me that to appreciate a Picasso, you have to observe from multiple angles, three-dimensionally, perspective-wise, deconstructed. What I really mean is, if my girlfriend could use the same methods to observe politics, goddamn, how wonderful that would be. She’d truly be an angelic being. So, Martin, you need to learn to think from multiple angles. If Jeff doesn’t perfectly resolve this, do you really think his worst outcome would be as simple as election defeat?"
"Isn’t it?" Martin, taking Tommy seriously, turned back to look at the painting again, observing for a few seconds before withdrawing his gaze, "I still stick to my opinion. I think Odelia likes this painting, probably because it features an ugly woman. She doesn’t have to worry about you doing anything to the painting, Boss."
Tommy cleared his throat, "You think too highly of politicians, Martin. Let me put it this way, if Jeff doesn’t fix this, the Democratic Party office will suspend his party membership and all party activities on the grounds of egregious racist behavior. That means, even if he ranks first in the primary party votes, it doesn’t matter a damn, because the Democratic Party won’t let him continue to run for election on behalf of the party. If Jeff leaves the Democratic Party in a huff to run as an independent, how many votes can he take from the hands of Democratic Rona and Republican Iliana Leti without the support of the Democrats? There are a total of one hundred thousand people in this district, nearly fifty thousand of whom belong to the two parties. Of the remaining half who are non-party ordinary citizens, more than half are of Cuban descent. Both the Republican and Democratic parties are waiting for Jeff to mess up and take the wrong step, so he becomes a laughingstock."
"So it’s even more crucial to deny any connection with Jeff, and to make it clear at a press conference immediately," Martin stressed.
Tommy sat up straight, taking his feet off the table, "Before you came in, I already called Page and the staff around Jeff to do some preparatory work."
Martin breathed a sigh of relief. He thought Tommy was arranging for Jeff to hold a press conference, to sever ties with the veterans and deny any involvement with them on this matter. Now, a smile finally surfaced on his face:
"How should we prepare the speech? Make it as credible as possible..."
"What speech?" Tommy looked at Martin puzzled.
Martin stared back at Tommy with the same confusion: "The speech for the press conference."
"I didn’t say anything about holding a press conference," Tommy spread his hands.
The easy smile that had just appeared on Martin’s face instantly vanished, "But you just told me you called Page and the staff around Jeff to do some prep work."
"Page arranged for Cubans to scare Jessica, causing her to be injured in a traffic accident and hospitalized. Jeff and his staff generously went to the police station to obtain some applications for community interaction with the veterans," Tommy looked at Martin innocently, "I never said anything about a press conference."
Martin felt a bead of cold sweat on his forehead, "The veterans just attacked Cubans, and you’re telling Jeff to gather with them? Boss, are you planning for Jeff to lead the veterans in some kind of special military operation to drive all the Cuban voters in the Eighteenth District back to Cuba by sea?"
"We don’t need to drive the Cubans into the sea, but you need to understand one thing, when both your Republican and Democratic opponents accuse you of inciting veterans against Cubans, you better be able to do just that," Tommy told Martin:
"Otherwise, when they realize you don’t have enough control over the group of veterans, you’re as good as dead."
