Chapter 254: Slide into the Abyss in One Step

Johnson's speech in Las Vegas was a resounding success. The square outside the Hardy Hotel was packed with 20,000 people, and the casino was closed for three hours in honor of the event. Locals and tourists alike gathered to hear the President speak, reveling in the excitement of his visit.

The following day, Johnson abruptly cut his trip short and returned to Washington. Upon arriving at the White House, he summoned U.S. Secretary of State Acheson and instructed the National Property Council to issue a public announcement. The U.S. would suspend all forms of aid and protection to China due to the current international situation.

"Your Excellency, are you really planning to abandon China?" Acheson asked in disbelief.

With a composed demeanor, Johnson replied, "It's time to make a choice. I have met with the necessary individuals and have concluded that the situation is beyond repair. There is no point in expending further energy. The U.S. will now focus its foreign strategy primarily on Europe."

This was Johnson's counterattack against the betrayal and humiliation he felt.

Two days later, the U.S. National Property Council officially announced a drastic policy shift: all aid to China, including military, economic, and political support, would be suspended. This news sent shockwaves through China. Many had hoped that the U.S. Congress would intervene with military support. Now, that hope was dashed.

In China, panic ensued. Many military personnel and officials were left disoriented by the sudden withdrawal of U.S. support. Chiang, in particular, was deeply troubled.

"How could they do this? The Americans have always claimed that China was important to them, yet their support was so stingy. If they had provided more aid, could we have avoided this predicament?" Chiang raged.

Suspicion grew that Chiang's recent support for Dewey might have been discovered. Fearing repercussions, Chiang decided to send his wife to the U.S. to mediate.

Meanwhile, Hardy was preparing for the next step in his plan.

Arnold, an astute reporter for the New York branch of the Global Times and a peripheral member of the HD Security Intelligence Team, was ready for action. He had participated in World War II and had a reputation for uncovering crucial stories. In a rented apartment, Arnold set up a tape recorder and a handheld video camera.

"Crack."

Arnold pressed the record button and spoke to the camera: "This is a risky endeavor. If something happens to me, please ensure this information reaches the police. I have uncovered some compromising information. A candidate has received illegal foreign donations. I am about to call that person to gather more details."

Arnold then picked up the phone and dialed out.

"Ring Ling Ling~!"

In Albany, the phone in Governor Dewey's office rang.

The secretary answered. "Who is this?"

"I'm looking for the governor," Arnold replied.

"Who should I say is calling?"

"Inform him that I have crucial information regarding his wealth and political future," Arnold said.

The secretary was taken aback but relayed the message. Dewey, engaged in a meeting about his national speech tour, initially dismissed the call. However, when informed of the potential link to "foreign political donations," Dewey's interest piqued. He took the call in a private office.

"Hello, this is Thomas Dewey. Who am I speaking with, and what do you want?"

"Governor Dewey, let me introduce myself. I am a journalist. I recently witnessed something during a golf course meeting. I have evidence that you received a political donation of 5 million dollars from a foreign official," Arnold said.

Dewey's face hardened. The revelation that his campaign had accepted illegal foreign donations posed a severe threat. As a former prosecutor, Dewey knew the gravity of such a violation. He could not afford to let this information become public.

"What do you want from me?" Dewey demanded.

Arnold chuckled. "Governor, if people learn that a presidential candidate is involved in illegal foreign donations, it will be disastrous. Would voters support a candidate who might betray national interests?"

Dewey's concern grew. If this information leaked, his reputation and chances of winning the presidency would be ruined. The possibility of an FBI investigation made the situation even more perilous.

"I didn't accept any foreign donations. Don't slander me," Dewey insisted.

"Ah, Mr. Governor, you were once a renowned prosecutor. Surely, you understand that tracing the origins of such donations is straightforward. If this matter comes to light, it will surely be investigated thoroughly. But you're familiar with that, aren't you?" Arnold said with a smirk.

Dewey knew Arnold was right. The FBI would uncover the truth quickly. Even if he managed to deflect the current threat, the damage could be catastrophic.

"What do you want?" Dewey asked, his voice strained.

Arnold's voice was calm and collected. "I'm asking for $500,000. That's one-tenth of the donation you received. It's a fair deal. Pay me, and I'll make sure the information stays hidden."

Dewey, though enraged by Arnold's greed, knew he had no other choice. He reluctantly agreed, "I'll pay you $500,000. But you must hand over all evidence and guarantee that you won't disclose anything further."

"Agreed. I also adhere to professional ethics," Arnold replied.

"How will we conduct the transaction?" Dewey inquired.

Arnold responded, "I will call you again. And please understand, I'm taking precautions to ensure my safety. You're a high-ranking official, and I'm just a reporter. Trust must go both ways."

With that, Arnold ended the call. Dewey, deeply troubled, turned to his trusted staff and discussed how to handle the threat. The staff suggested eliminating the reporter to ensure he would never reveal the damaging information.

Though Dewey hesitated at the thought of resorting to such extreme measures, the idea of being blackmailed indefinitely pushed him toward considering it.

"Investigate where the call originated. See if we can track this person," Dewey instructed.

"Understood. I'll get on it," the assistant said.

Back in his rented apartment, Arnold recorded a final message for the camera: "I'm documenting this process not just for myself but for posterity. If something happens to me, my friend will ensure this evidence reaches the authorities. I'll continue recording and documenting. The title of this project? I'll decide soon."

Arnold then packed up his belongings and left the apartment, disappearing into the night.