Volume 4: White Devil Chapter 249 How Much Do You Love Him?
Tommy walked into Martin's newly rented office, carrying a can of Coke. He looked around and said, "It looks good. This is the atmosphere a campaign office should have."
In the spacious but messy hall, there are seven or eight workstations separated. In front of one wall is a TV wall consisting of twelve televisions, playing different TV channels.
Campaign materials with Jeff's portrait printed on them were piled up everywhere. Five or six staff members with work badges on their chests and baseball caps with Jeff's campaign slogan "Say No to Cubans" printed on them were busy in the hall. Some of them put the phone to their ears, covered the receivers to signal their colleagues to speak in a low voice, or stared at the TVs on one wall, which were showing various live talk shows in the Miami area. Once a show ended, they were immediately ready to pick up the phone and call the host's number to talk to him about how to get on that show.
"The phone line for BT Miami's 'Good Morning, Liberty City' show has been busy. The show has been over for half an hour, but the phone is still busy!" A young staff member knocked twice on the door of an office at the end of the hall, then pushed it open and poked his head inside.
Martin sat in the luxurious leather swivel chair in the office, his back to the door, staring at the whiteboard on the wall. When he heard the other party's words, he said without moving, "Then continue to call the host and program director's number. All your job today is to find them for me and tell them that we are not short of money now! Those candidates can talk to them, and Jeff can too."
After the staff left, Martin looked at the scribbled electoral district map on the whiteboard with a marker. He first drew an X on Little Havana, then picked up his phone and dialed a number, chattering, "Mr. Page, how is the installation of the billboards going for those niggers? Three were beaten by the Cubans, and two are like vegetables now... Those Cubans are so cruel, are they disguised? Are you sure they are disguised and not really beaten by the Cubans? Did you use the electric shock device to test it? That's my half-brother! Damn it... Are you going to let all the black people in the Hart family have a taste of your electric shock device?"
"My poor brother asked for how much? Three thousand dollars? Three thousand fucking dollars? Very good, take out your electric shock device that looks like an elephant's trunk and press the switch on his dick for me! If he's not dead, tell him to come back to see me, and I'll shock him again! After teaching him a lesson, another group of black workers should arrive. Let the cameras continue to record the atrocities of the Cubans. Don't let those stupid old soldiers help beat the Cubans! No! Even if they volunteer, stop those bastards whose brains have been damaged by alcohol! Tell those old guys who like to meddle in other people's business that if they dare to shoot and kill the Cubans, Jeff will never get elected again in his life!"
The door behind him was opened. Martin, who was already furious at what Page had said, covered the receiver and roared, "How many times have I told you! Be polite! I'm the boss of Hart Consulting! Give me enough respect, or you interns won't get my recommendation letter! Get out!"
"Sir, the Hawke family asked me to inform you that they need you to help grind the mill." Tommy leaned against the glass door and spoke with a smile.
"Holy Shit!" Hearing this familiar voice, Martin dropped the phone, turned around and stood up from the swivel chair, and timidly explained to Tommy: "Boss? You finally returned from your missionary work? I thought you would have to wait until Jeff's first party nomination primary election before you could rush back. Also, I didn't mean to say those words just now. I was scolding those staff members, most of whom were rude interns, who thought that my office could be entered and exited by anyone at will like their girlfriends. However, your office is next door, and I guarantee that no one has been in it. It is as new as a virgin."
He finished speaking in one breath, then realized that Tommy was the only one there, and asked curiously, "Where are Nick and the others? We need them now. We need cameras to go to Little Havana to film those Cubans destroying Jeff's billboard . The more the better."
"After Nick accompanied me to visit seven churches, he chose to take a vacation and returned to Los Angeles. However, he said that the new person in charge should be able to arrive today to take over." Tommy looked at Martin, who was dressed in a business style. "This outfit makes you look more like a big shot than those gold necklaces and gold rings."
Martin in front of him was wearing a smoky gray stiff collar shirt with the top button undone, but his cuffs were buttoned instead of rolled up. He wore a low-key business watch, black suit pants, and black leather shoes, which made him match the simple gray style of the room. Compared with the fake black big shot in Los Angeles who always wore a big gold chain around his neck and ten gold rings on his hands, Martin now looks more pleasing to the eye, although he still chatters.
"Your social charity donated 200,000 to Jeff's campaign action committee. The first thing I did after the money arrived was to find a professional campaign stylist to package Jeff's family of five according to your instructions. My image is an extra gift from him. He hopes to have a long-term cooperation with us. That guy also stipulated that I can't eat fast food, drink Coke, and can't litter cigarette butts. He also gave me this." Martin was a little unhappy with his situation. At this time, he turned around and picked up a white mug on the table without any pattern, and complained to Tommy:
"He also said that I could only drink coffee with this and couldn't add too much milk. Also, I couldn't eat greasy or smelly food while working and had to look clean and capable."
"It seems like you listen to him." Tommy nodded with satisfaction: "For matters like this, you should listen to the advice of professionals."
"If I don't listen, how can I convince Jeff to listen? I don't want to listen to that guy." Martin sighed, "That bastard said my hairstyles are shit. I'm the best hairstylist in Little Haiti."
Tommy bit the straw and took a sip of Coke: "Where's Jeff?"
"I called him ten minutes ago. He was being forced to get a tattoo by a designer. His wife Jessica was crying because the stylists donated all her previous clothes to the church and forced her to wear bras that would make her breasts look more erect, but she just couldn't wear them." Martin shook his head and introduced Jeff's latest situation. At the same time, he picked up the car keys on the table and said to Tommy:
"I can personally drive you to see this candidate who helped your charity make $700,000 in dirty political money."
"I'm impressed, Martin. After two weeks, you actually understand the term 'dirty money in politics'." Tommy teased Martin with a smile.
Seven churches, relying on Gary Dooney's orthodoxy and Tommy Hawk's sophistry, as well as a series of political rewards promised to Jeff Lavine after his election, finally Tommy received a total of 700,000 donations, and then donated 200,000 to Jeff's campaign action committee.
Martin led Tommy out of the company and then helped Tommy open the door of the rented Cadillac business car. "The hosts on TV taught me that. They firmly accused Jeff of accepting political bribes. Otherwise, he would not have appeared on the candidate list to compete with others, and he would have wasted manpower and money to post campaign ads everywhere. Now I think what you said is absolutely right, boss. You can make more money by engaging in politics than by feeding laxatives to pigeons in the square. Seven hundred thousand, even if we feed all the pigeons in Miami, they still can't poop out that much money."
Martin is now so impressed with Tommy that he is speechless. When they came to Miami for vacation, they had almost nothing, but in less than a month, he has become the founder of a campaign consulting company and the campaign manager of a senatorial candidate. Although he is busy with Jeff's campaign every day, the thought of having hundreds of thousands of campaign funds, more than a dozen team members, living in a business hotel, and driving a rented high-end business car makes Martin feel like he is dreaming.
What’s even more exaggerated is that Tommy, the boss standing behind him, already has half a million in his hands.
Five hundred thousand dollars is a sum that many Americans cannot earn in their entire lifetime. His boss made the money by just wandering around Florida for two weeks as if he was on vacation. Moreover, there is no need to disclose the names of the donors, and there is no need to guarantee that the money must be spent on Jeff's campaign. He can just use the excuse of doing charity to transfer the money from the foundation account to his own wallet. The simplest way is to buy advertising space on his own TV station and bid a high price, and then this political black money can become clean money controlled by Tommy.
"Are you going out again, boss?" Martin asked Tommy, who was reading a newspaper in the back seat, while holding the steering wheel.
Tommy looked at the election news in the newspaper and said, "No, I'll rest until Jeff's nomination speech, and then go make money."
“Can I still make money?”
"Of course, for those candidates who originally had a certain chance of winning but have lost hope due to Jeff's sudden rise, their sponsors will need to place their bets again because their opponents are eliminated. At that time, we will find a way to make them place their bets on Jeff." Tommy said, "I thought you had mastered this process after I left for two weeks."
"I arranged for Jeff's two best friends and all of Jeff's relatives to join the campaign team and get a salary," Martin said cautiously. "I saw other campaign teams do the same."
"Get to the point, Martin." Tommy looked up at Martin who was driving, and then continued to read the newspaper.
Martin licked his lips and said, "Uh... there are a few of my relatives working in the campaign team. I promise, they are really working and not slacking off. In order to prevent them from slacking off, I asked Paige to supervise them."
"How's it feel without Paige around?" Tommy laughed.
Seeing that the boss didn't get angry because he arranged for his relatives to come in and make money, Martin also grinned and showed his white teeth: "That's great, it's like a Roman Holiday every day."
Martin drove Tommy to Jeff's house, which he had not seen for a long time. When getting off the car, Tommy even suspected that he had gone to the wrong place. The house was still the same house, but the colorful flowers in the flowerbed in front of the door had been removed, leaving only the monotonous but neat green. A U.S. Army flag and a United States flag were crossed on the roof, forming a flag gate. The kennel on the right side of the front yard was still there, but the two small and cute dogs had disappeared, replaced by a Canary Mastiff with an American flag pattern around its neck. Just sitting in the yard, the pedestrians on the street were scared to death by the Canary Mastiff with its balls clenched.
Combined with the camouflaged old military pickup truck parked in the open parking space, Tommy believed that voters didn't even need to see Jeff Lavine. They only needed to see his home on TV for the first time to imagine that Jeff was definitely a patriotic and very tough white guy.
"This is a nice dog. It looks like a pet that a veteran should keep. Where did you get it from?" Tommy whistled at the mastiff and asked.
But the dog obviously didn't like Tommy's teasing, especially when it saw Tommy, a stranger, swaggering into the yard. It even leaned over and let out a threatening growl.
"Hey, Lance! Quiet it down! This is Mr. Tommy Hawke. The charity he runs donated two hundred thousand to Jeff. If this dog bites him, I guarantee that Mr. Page, who was drinking with you last night, will hang you and your dog with an expressionless face in the next second!" Martin shouted to a middle-aged black man who was squatting in the front yard to repair a lawn mower.
The black man stood up, looked at Tommy, then turned around and scolded the dog. The dog immediately shut its mouth. The dog continued to squat, like a mute, silently fiddling with the lawn mower.
"This is Lance, a homeless Vietnam War veteran. I met him when I was giving a speech at a nursing home. His pickup truck broke down, and Lance helped fix it. I thought it would be a good opportunity for Jeff to give him a job so that everyone would feel that Jeff is really helping the veterans. Currently, Lance is Jeff's driver, gardener, and pet sitter. The dog is also his. After he got this job, he stole the dog back from his ex-wife." Martin opened the front of Jeff's living room and gestured to Tommy:
“Welcome to the home of Patriot Jeff Lavine.”
The entire living room had been completely renovated. Before Tommy even entered the door, he saw a white-tailed buck's head decoration hanging on the wall in front of him, with a shotgun hanging below.
Before Tommy left to help Jeff find donations, there was a family photo hanging there of Jeff's family and his two best friends. In the photo, the group of people were smiling as brightly as fools.
Walking into the living room, I found that the landscape decoration painting above the fireplace had been replaced by a white-headed eagle oil painting. The row of photo frames placed on the eaves of the fireplace also had their contents changed. Previously, they had been photos of Jeff's family, but now the most conspicuous thing in a photo frame was not a photo, but a piece of letter paper with a message written in pen on it:
"As long as this country and this government protect our rights, it is worth our death defense! As long as it is worth defending, every American is willing to use their bodies to form an indestructible shield to protect it! If that day comes, some of us may bleed and be injured, some may be captured and tortured, and some may die on the battlefield, but I believe that as long as the free people holding weapons still love this country, we will never be conquered by foreign enemies!"
Below it was a line of small print: To the best soldier in this country, Jeff Lavine.
The signature is Irving Cohen.
Tommy was familiar with this passage. It was a line from the inaugural address of Andrew Jackson, the seventh president of the United States and the first Democratic president of the United States. He had learned about this speech in his high school history class, but he was unfamiliar with the signature at the end: "Who is Irving Cohen?"
"Former deputy commander of the Florida National Guard. The words above are true, and the small print below and the previous line are also true. The name Jeff Lavin was signed by an employee with beautiful handwriting. All soldiers serving in the Florida National Guard originally received this letter, and Jeff was no exception. But Jeff didn't take it seriously at all. He carelessly threw his genuine letter into the armrest box of the car, and then one time his son had diarrhea during a trip, and he simply used the letter to wipe his son's butt. For this reason, we had to find another one and changed the name to his." Martin introduced on the side.
Tommy even noticed that the pop song tapes in the cabinet were replaced with folk songs with straightforward patriotic lyrics.
"Thank God! Tommy, is that you? You're finally back! ~ Help us ~ Everyone is crazy! Everyone!" Jeff's wife Jessica heard the voices of Martin and Tommy in the living room, and then she trotted down from upstairs, pounced on Tommy with a face full of grievance, grabbed Tommy's arm, and then, as if she had found someone to talk to, she poured out all the grievances she had suffered during the time Tommy was away.
Jessica is a very virtuous and traditional housewife. While Jeff goes to work every day, she takes good care of the four children, prepares dinner for the family and takes care of their lives. Although being a housewife taking care of four children is very tiring, Jessica occasionally fantasizes while watching TV that she can be like the women she sees on TV, wearing beautiful and decent gifts, designing a beautiful hairstyle, attending formal cocktail parties and the like. But that is just a little fantasy in her spare time. When all this really comes, she finds that it is not what she wants at all.
First, the two lovely dogs that had been raised for many years were suddenly thrown into foster care by relatives in the countryside. In return, a large and fierce dog was born. When the four children of the family wanted to feed it dog food to show their goodwill, they had to kneel on the ground and kowtow to it carefully.
Ever since this patriotic bulldog wearing an American flag bandana appeared, the morning newspaper and milk delivery boy has been so scared that he wet his pants for four consecutive days.
The home that used to be a little messy but definitely warm was now decorated to look like half a military barracks dormitory. Although it was tidy, it always felt like it didn't belong to her. She felt like she was serving here instead of living here.
All the photos of her family that recorded good memories were put away and thrown into the storage box in the attic. They were replaced with various photos that she thought were scary, such as the photo of Jeff wearing camouflage clothes, holding a shotgun, with a white-tailed deer lying in front of him. She even found a bunch of photos that Jeff's father had sent from Vietnam and hung them in various places in the house. The most exaggerated thing was that the photos of herself participating in shooting training with the school rifle club when she was in high school were also found and hung in the bedroom. Every time Jessica lay in bed and saw how stupid she looked holding a rifle in high school, she felt embarrassed and wanted to cover her head with the quilt.
Of the four children, two were too young to be safe temporarily, while the two older ones were thrown into the Boy Scout weekend military training camp for some drill. The two children who had been cleaned up by her were turned into two little tramps covered in mud. She still had to hold up the home video recorder, hypocritically give them a thumbs up, and praise them for doing a good job and calling them two little tough guys.
And there was that damn sissy stylist that Martin found from nowhere. He was like a fly, buzzing around every day, teaching her how to dress, designing her style, and choosing jewelry for her. If she disobeyed him, he would mock her and threaten her that if she didn't obey him, she would lose the election. The man also forbade her to brag about being the best at making Chinese food, and she was not allowed to eat food with strong odors, etc.
But even so, Jessica still chose to be tolerant, because she felt that all this was for the sake of fulfilling her husband's dream, and she was willing to be tolerant because she loved her husband.
Tommy was like a savior. Jessica grabbed his sleeves and he cried awkwardly about the changes in his family during this period: "I can tolerate all this...Tommy, but that damn sissy and damn Martin ..."
"Relax, Jessica, Tommy is here, take your time." Tommy pulled his arm back calmly, then picked up a box of tissues and handed it to Jessica: "What happened?"
Jessica wiped her tear-stained face with a tissue and said frantically, "They want me to pretend to be a patient and lie in bed until Jeff's election is over."
Tommy looked at Martin after hearing this: "There can't be any problems with family relationships."
Martin said with a guilty tone, but his expression remained calm as he said, "You taught me, Boss, to make the best use of everything. The stylist said, Jessica... Sorry, Jessica, I'm just telling you the truth. You're out of shape now, and you're too conservative and introverted. You're a good wife, but not a good helper. Most importantly, Jeff's base voters are all vulgar soldiers or poor people. Compared to your sister Gina, a young, pretty girl, which one of you do you think has a higher chance of getting votes when you accompany Jeff to visit voters, bend over to shake hands, and sincerely ask those lechers to vote for Jeff?"
After talking to Jessica, Martin looked at Tommy again and said, "The interns have calculated that if Gina were to campaign, the vote count would probably go up by 3%-5%."
Hearing the name Gina, Tommy remembered that she was Jessica's younger sister, who was young, beautiful, and had a hot body. She had been selected for the cheerleading team in high school. She had a cheerful and outgoing personality and a strong desire to perform.
Jessica, a housewife who has given birth to four children and whose figure has become out of shape, does not have any advantage over Gina in terms of appearance.
"Tommy, I know they all listen to you, including Jeff. Please, don't let them do this to me. Go and persuade Jeff. He has been driven crazy by those veterans and Martin and the others! He is determined to go to Washington to fight for the rights of those veterans. I can accept him going to Washington, but I cannot accept Gina and Jeff showing up in public together. I love him..." Jessica looked at Tommy with tears in her eyes and pleaded.
"Of course I know you love him, Jessica." Tommy said to Jessica, then turned around and told Martin straightforwardly:
"That's a good idea, but don't let Jessica lie in bed all the time. Make it look like she broke her leg in a car accident and need to use a wheelchair temporarily. It would be even better if the car accident was related to the Cubans. Then when you need to seduce the lechers to vote, let Jeff's sister-in-law Gina show them her cleavage. When you need to show the love between husband and wife in front of the neighbors, let Jeff show up with the children pushing Jessica in a wheelchair."
Martin opened his mouth wide. His campaign company just wanted Jessica to lie in bed and pretend to be sick, but his boss was even more cruel. He was directly in a wheelchair because of a car accident.
Tommy stepped forward and hugged Jessica's head, kissed her forehead gently, then released his hands and said to the already dazed hostess:
"Only one question remains, how much do you love him, Jessica?"
