"We're on a tight schedule, Ethan."
Leo sat back down in his chair.
"Every day of shutdown burns money. At this stage, efficiency trumps everything. Throw them a bone, get them to shut up, and get the machines running again."
Ethan sighed and walked out with the documents.
The moment the door closed, the calm in Leo's eyes vanished, replaced by a profound and sinister darkness.
He was tired of this endless exchange of favors, tired of having to feed this pack of greedy pigs before he could ever get anything substantial done.
He wanted absolute control.
"It's a terrible feeling, isn't it?"
Roosevelt's voice echoed in his mind.
"You have five hundred million US Dollars in your hands, you hold the highest executive power, and yet you still have to answer to those nine clowns."
'Yes, Mr. President,' Leo admitted internally. 'I want to get rid of all of them. I want this city to have only one voice: mine.'
"Dictatorship."
Roosevelt uttered the word.
