Everyone fell silent after Truman's resolute words.
The atmosphere in the room suddenly grew heavy.
Truman was the first to regain his composure.
"The Pentagon's analysis shows that Douglas was far too overconfident—and we, too, underestimated the fighting power of the Orientals. I still believe that as long as we face them squarely, victory will ultimately be ours."
He paused, then frowned.
"Enough about that arrogant bastard. Why haven't we caught Leo yet?"
At the mention of Leo, everyone's expressions darkened.
Alfred spoke grimly:
"The IRS had arranged two teams to arrest Leo—one overt as a decoy, and one covert as the main strike force. The overt team was already in place, but the covert one never showed up. We suspect Leo discovered them… and wiped them out."
"The problem is," he continued, "the decoy team that remains isn't exactly brave or competent. They went to Leo's villa once, got tricked and frightened off by him, and never went back. A few days later, their cars started breaking down—tires missing, engines dead, bearings shattered. We can't tell if Leo sabotaged them or if they sabotaged themselves to make excuses. Either way, they're useless. We've ordered the IRS to organize two more strike teams. They've already departed, but with the Far East situation deteriorating… Leo might use that to his advantage."
Truman rubbed his temples wearily.
"Of course he will. He's too smart not to. Our entire strategy against him depends on forcing people to choose between the Far East situation and Leo's money. But now Douglas has lost in the Far East—that puts us in a very difficult position."
At that moment, Secretary of State Dean Gooderham Acheson entered. Seeing familiar faces, he didn't bother with formalities.
"Mr. President," he said gravely, "we've received formal diplomatic notes from the United Kingdom, France, the Netherlands, Belgium, Canada, Luxembourg, Italy, West Germany, Saudi Arabia, and Turkey. They express concern over our setbacks in the Far East—and also over our persecution of the world's richest man. They say Valentino isn't just America's, but a symbol of the entire Free World."
Truman's eyes blazed with fury as he glared at Maxime.
"See? This is what happens when your brother loses a damn battle! Without Leo stirring the pot, without Douglas' defeat, would any of those countries dare lecture us like this? Tell Douglas—he must win the next battle. If he loses again, those countries won't be sending us polite notes anymore. And we—forget the Far East—we might even lose to Leo right here at home!"
Then the White House press secretary hurried in, his face pale.
"Mr. President, there's a crowd gathering outside. They're demanding updates on the Far East war situation."
"We just got the updates ourselves! How the hell do they already know?" Truman snapped.
The spokesman switched on the television in the office. It was tuned to the American Broadcasting Network—Leo's station. A military analyst was calmly dissecting the Korean War situation:
"Although our newspapers claim victory after victory, the front lines don't lie. In truth, we lost at the Ch'ongch'on River."
Crash! Truman's favorite cup went flying across the room.
"Catch Leo immediately—or things will get ugly."
But bad news wasn't done tormenting him.
IRS Director Coleman came in trembling.
"Sir, I've just received word—Valentino has boarded a plane to Europe."
Everyone in the room understood the gravity instantly.
They hadn't banned Leo from leaving the country earlier because, as long as Douglas kept winning, no foreign nation would dare shelter him. They needed American funds and protection too much.
But now that Douglas had lost, that calculation changed. Those countries might actually welcome Leo—believing Douglas could no longer win.
Worse still, morale at home was collapsing.
Everyone turned to Maxime, their eyes sharp and accusing.
In unison, Truman and the others said:
"Douglas must win."
Only if Douglas triumphed could they stabilize domestic sentiment—and pressure the nations sheltering Leo to send him back.
In the following days, even Truman personally took action to hold everything together.
Leo's enemies all mobilized, cracking down on wavering opportunists before they could defect.
Apart from Le Monde and The New York Herald, every major American outlet was ordered to impose a news blackout on the Korean War.
Meanwhile, to ensure MacArthur could launch a counteroffensive, Truman and the military-industrial conglomerates supporting him poured in unlimited money and weapons.
MacArthur himself sent multiple telegrams of thanks, no longer the cold, arrogant "Emperor MacArthur" of old. He boasted that the 1st Marine Division and 7th Infantry Division had advanced to the Chosin Reservoir, planning to reach the Yalu River by November 27 and crush the volunteer forces between two pincers.
He vowed repeatedly to "make the Oriental monkeys feel the full might of MacArthur!"
Meanwhile, in France, Leo appeared on his own television network, smiling faintly as he said:
"With MacArthur in charge, America cannot win."
Many European military experts agreed with him—not all of them paid supporters.
After all, Europe had been the "father" of the West for centuries, and they didn't take kindly to their "son" America suddenly acting like the parent.
Thus, the propaganda war between Leo and Washington turned into a transatlantic shouting match.
In the U.S., Leo's enemies were livid. To shift global opinion, they sent journalists to interview "Emperor MacArthur" himself. MacArthur, ever the showman, proudly repeated his promise before the cameras:
"Drink from the Yalu and be home by Christmas!"
Soon headlines blared across America:
"MacArthur's Advance: War to End Before Christmas—Boys Expected Home for the Holidays!"
For a moment, "Emperor MacArthur" was hailed as a national hero, while Leo, in France, was branded a traitor.
Truman, pleased by the turnaround, hosted a celebratory banquet at the White House.
"I've already contacted the French ambassador," he told the gathered magnates. "They've agreed in principle to extradite Leo. Now we just need Douglas to deliver us one glorious victory."
But as they toasted their imagined triumph—France expelling Leo, the world's richest man's fortune carved up among them, Douglas crushing the East—MacArthur decided his last blunder wasn't big enough.
He would make an even bigger one.
On November 27, just three days after his boasts, the Battle of Chosin Reservoir erupted.
Truman, Alfred, and the others stopped laughing as the daily reports rolled in:
Dec 2: The Polar Bear Regiment—annihilated.
Dec 6: Troops began retreating south.
Dec 7: The 1st Marine Division began retreating.
Dec 8: Heavy casualties.
Dec 9: Casualties still mounting.
"Mr. President," reported Defense Secretary Robert Lovett, "General MacArthur requests naval evacuation support at Hungnam Port."
Truman's face was ashen. His chest felt crushed, his throat raw—he could barely speak.
He waved weakly, signaling approval.
December 24, 14:36 —the last American ship left Hungnam.
The Battle of Chosin Reservoir stunned the world.
The cruel irony was that MacArthur had promised to end the war before Christmas—and instead delivered one of the worst defeats in U.S. history.
Truman and the East Coast financiers tried desperately to suppress the news, but word spread. The "Free World" had been humiliated, and MacArthur's scandalous incompetence became the talk of every capital.
Leo, meanwhile, stayed calm.
Outwardly, he was careful not to gloat—after all, as the world's most visible capitalist, he couldn't afford to appear anti-American.
But inwardly, he must have been smiling.
He used this time wisely—to strengthen his image, consolidate his base, and wait for MacArthur's disaster to fully reshape public opinion.
He also noticed unrest within his own camp—certain subordinates were growing restless in his absence.
So, Leo's media outlets maintained restraint.
Soon, American politicians began calling him—urging him to return and "save the country."
Especially those who had wavered before. Now it was obvious—they had underestimated the East. The problem wasn't that Japan was weak, but that the soldiers from the East were too strong.
Intelligence showed that the Soviets had offered almost no direct support. The victories were achieved almost entirely by the East's own forces.
That revelation shattered many illusions. The promised spoils of "recovering Eastern concessions" were a pipe dream now.
The Free World had lost—not just money and influence, but its very footing in the Far East.
Private profits—gone. National interests—gone.
All that remained was a costly, endless war.
And for a country run like a corporation, losing money was the one sin that could never be forgiven.
A long-term expectation had collapsed. Naturally, everyone turned their eyes toward the man with the next long-term vision—Leo Valentino.
If the Far East was a lost cause, then let the world's richest man lead them to new profits in the Middle East.
Could Leo return now?
He had been driven out. Why should he crawl back just because of a few phone calls?
Many Americans still believed he was a criminal—a tax evader.
Until they cleared his name, why would he go back?
Until they saw his enemies as their enemies, why should he go back?
Besides, no truly powerful figure had invited him—yet.
And there were two smaller, less political reasons too:
Leo was enjoying himself.
In France, every morning he woke in his Provence château—with Eva Green on one side and Adjani on the other.
By day, European nobles and ministers joined him for wine and sunlight; by night, the continent's finest beauties kept him company.
Back in Washington, FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover received a distinguished visitor—Republican leader Robert Taft.
"So, you're here to lobby me too?" Hoover said irritably. "None of you want to get your own hands dirty, but you expect me—the one man supposed to stay neutral—to act?"
In recent days, many had approached him, urging him to expose the IRS's illegal actions so Congress could launch an investigation to clear Valentino's name.
But Hoover refused. He wasn't about to throw away his carefully maintained neutrality.
Leo had only told him to collect evidence and control witnesses—not to reveal anything publicly.
As a shrewd veteran politician, Hoover sensed that with Leo in Europe, some within his camp were already plotting their own moves.
Without Leo's explicit orders, he would do nothing rash.
"Edgar," Taft said calmly, "you know as well as I do—the situation's already decided. The Democrats can't turn this around. The GOP controls both houses now. We're pressuring the White House and the Pentagon to remove MacArthur and end this miserable war.
Once he's dismissed, the game's over—and we win.
General Eisenhower has promised that if he's elected president, you'll remain FBI Director.
But first, we have to deal with the Eastern financiers still clinging to power in Europe. We can use the injustice against Valentino to take them all down in one sweep."
Hoover rose, his eyes cold.
"You people sure have guts," he said icily.
"The peach tree Mr. Valentino risked his life to plant—
—and now you think you can just walk in and pick the peaches?"