Roland wasn't optimistic about Alfred's plan to strike first. These men — good at hunting and polo — were ultimately thinkers, not fighters.
Leo, on the other hand, was a warrior who had come out of the Pacific theater alive — a top-tier soldier. Frankly, after studying Leo, Roland thought that if Leo had come from a better background, with his combat record, a stint at West Point would've already earned him a general's star.
For intellectuals like them to go head-to-head with Leo? They probably wouldn't last a minute.
Seeing the doubt on everyone's faces, Alfred said in a low, steady voice:
"This isn't a spur-of-the-moment decision. Six months ago, I obtained the exact location of Leo's secret base in the United States.
Based on my men's surveillance, Leo should have four strongholds, each with about fifty stationed men.
The DuPont family's spies tell me they'll have full confirmation in a day or two.
When that happens, I'll know all of Leo's hidden forces. I'll launch a coordinated strike to wipe out every last one of them — Leo included — before he can endanger any of our lives.
After that, I'll move to eliminate Leo and his relatives."
His words made everyone's eyes light up. The reason they'd hesitated to move against Leo was simple — fear. Fear of the power that had taken down a former Citibank CEO, three governors of Virginia, Goldman Sachs's CEO, a presidential aide, and even Democratic heavyweight Roosevelt James. Fear of the force that had made an entire elite IRS squad vanish in Nevada.
Samuel wasn't surprised by this information — he knew that John Stillman, who had taken refuge under Alfred's wing, would have shared such a vital secret.
What did surprise him was the DuPont family's reach — that they'd actually traced Leo's armed network inside the U.S.
But Samuel felt no joy. After all, he'd been searching for those bases himself and had found nothing. The gap between an upstart like him — who rose in the early 19th century — and an old dynasty like DuPont's was painfully clear.
And that made him uneasy.
If Alfred could secretly discover Leo's forces, he could just as easily eliminate Samuel himself.
Alfred's talk of "dealing with Leo" might just as well be a warning to those — like Samuel — who'd considered leaving the alliance.
Still, if Alfred could truly guarantee the annihilation of Leo and his hidden army in one synchronized strike, then the war could finally be won.
Roland was tempted — Leo had been a nightmare to deal with — but still wary.
"You're sure Leo only has four armed groups?" he asked, uneasy.
"Ninety percent sure," Alfred replied confidently. "Since the Civil War, the DuPonts have sold weapons across America. We control every arms channel in the country. Leo's weapons couldn't have fallen from the sky, could they?"
As Alfred said, their family's intelligence and armed networks had existed since the Civil War.
DuPont operatives were tracking Leo's four suspected bases, and they'd observed the rotation of Leo's bodyguards matching the personnel movement at those sites — confirming Leo had no other secret bases.
"I agree with Alfred," Samuel said. "If surrender is off the table, there's only one option left — fight.
Besides DuPont's own forces, I'll try to persuade Douglas to redeploy a few elite units from the Korean front to assist."
"I remember Valentino still has armed units in South America," Will added.
"Indeed," Alfred said. "The United Fruit Company has long resented Leo's intrusion into Central America. I'll convince them to act simultaneously.
They've operated there for a century. Dealing with Leo, who's only been active there two years, shouldn't be a problem."
"Agreed."
Seeing Alfred had planned every angle — and with no better alternative — they all reached consensus.
Alfred stood, eyes gleaming with resolve.
"This plan serves the interests of everyone in this room.
But let me be blunt: to avoid repeating young Stillman's fate, I warn you all — what's said here is top secret.
If word leaks, and I survive Leo's retaliation, I will hunt the traitor to the ends of the earth."
The room fell silent. Everyone nodded gravely — DuPont had just flexed its power, and no one doubted Alfred's threat.
When the general meeting ended, the three leaders stayed behind to discuss details.
As they spoke of Leo's strongest base in Lynchburg, Samuel said:
"We can't rule out heavy weapons there. Once the operation begins, it'll be noisy. We'll need Governor Jesse's cooperation.
But with Leo's current dominance in Virginia, Jesse alone may not be enough.
We'll need help from the Jeffersons and Hutchinsons."
"Those old men are terrified — they've no stomach left for a fight," Roland said.
"The elders, yes — but not the young ones," Samuel replied. "Bertram and Edwin both suffered under Leo. They hate him with a passion."
"Edwin Hutchinson's hot-headed and impulsive — he could ruin everything.
Bertram's calmer, more calculating, but can he really sway both families politically?" Roland asked.
"Word is, both families are choosing new heads. Why not give the younger generation a push — say, help Bertram become the Jefferson patriarch?"
"Can you pull that off?" Roland asked.
"It'll take every bit of influence I have left in Virginia," Samuel sighed.
He'd spent decades building networks in the East, but after clashing with Leo again and again, his Virginia connections were nearly wiped out.
Still, Samuel moved quickly. That morning he was in New York; by evening, he was in Richmond.
After checking into a hotel, he sent his driver to fetch Bertram Jefferson.
He waited. One hour, two… midnight came — no driver.
Samuel's gut twisted. Something was wrong — but was it aimed at him? Just as he reached for the phone to call Will for backup, the driver finally returned — with bad news.
"Sir, I arrived at the Jefferson estate just in time to see Bertram stabbed to death by a drunk on the street."
The driver explained he'd investigated briefly — apparently Bertram had quarreled with the drunk at a bar. No one expected the man to turn violent.
A flimsy excuse. Maybe others would believe it, but Samuel didn't. He knew — this was Leo's doing.
With Bertram gone, only the unstable Edwin remained. Not ideal, but usable.
"Bring Edwin to me," Samuel ordered.
The driver shook his head.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible, sir. Edwin Hutchinson was right there when Bertram was killed. He was so terrified he lost control of his bladder and bowels, screaming hysterically. He's… not in his right mind."
Samuel rubbed his temples, cursing under his breath. Leo had moved faster than he'd imagined. Now, Jesse was his only option.
Fortunately, Jesse had survived multiple assassination attempts by Leo and hated him bitterly — a reliable ally.
Meanwhile, at the Valentino Hot Springs Hotel in Washington, Leo was hosting a grand banquet celebrating Marshal's official retirement.
Democratic and Republican leaders alike were present, along with titans like Rockefeller and Harriman. Politicians from both parties paraded past Leo as if paying tribute — the scene was nothing short of magnificent.
It was now obvious to all: the war hadn't weakened Valentino — it had made him stronger.
If MacArthur lost a bit more influence, Valentino would all but secure victory.
After the media storm, his companies' stocks had plummeted, but now they'd rebounded sharply.
Especially American Realty — after Goldman's public apology and Valentino's accurate wartime predictions, the stock kept climbing.
Leo Valentino's net worth had surpassed one billion, reaching $1.2 billion — reclaiming the title of the world's richest man.
At the height of the celebration, Tony Lip leaned close and whispered:
"Sir, a call from Virginia."
In his private suite, Leo picked up — it was Jesse.
"They're making their move, Leo. This order didn't come from Stillman but from Samuel.
It seems Samuel and DuPont have finally joined forces.
They believe your Lynchburg base is real. Samuel wants me to assist and clean up afterward."
Leo chuckled.
"You're laughing? They're about to hit your base — and they'll come for you and your family too!" Jesse snapped.
"Of course I'm laughing," Leo said calmly. "These men couldn't beat me in their own arena — now they want to fight mine?
And besides, I've been waiting for this.
I can't wait to see their faces when Alfred realizes it was all a trap — and that their last investments have gone up in smoke.
As for John Stillman, who fed them the false intel? His end will be glorious to watch.
Tell me, Jesse, isn't that worth smiling about?"
"You're sure? They sound determined — Samuel's words were vague, but I can feel it. They might even bring an elite unit back from the Far East."
"Douglas's so-called elite units?" Leo snorted. "They're not worth my attention."
"And what about me?" Jesse asked.
"After this, you can return to my camp," Leo said. "I'll honor my promise — in next year's election, you'll be Secretary of State under Eisenhower."
"So I play along with their plan, then turn it against them?" Jesse confirmed.
"Exactly. Don't worry — your safety is guaranteed."
No sooner had Leo hung up than the phone rang again — the Dulles brothers.
"The board just approved a motion to strike your South American operations," one said. "We voted against it, but we were outnumbered. Be ready."
"Thank you for the warning," Leo replied. "If I weather this with minimal losses, I'll make sure your voices carry more weight at United Fruit."
That was the advantage of power — people learned to hedge their bets, not follow those who thought they ran the game.
In British Honduras, Central America, Colondo grabbed young Luca by the collar and shoved him into a helicopter.
"What the hell are you doing, Colondo?"
Just moments earlier, Luca had been lying in bed surrounded by girls his age — thoroughly enjoying himself, though still bound by one of his brother's few rules: no "real" action until he turned sixteen.
Life otherwise was pure royalty.
Then Colondo burst in and started hauling him away.
"War's coming! The boss wants you somewhere safe!" Colondo barked, forcing him toward the chopper.
"What, World War III?" Luca shouted in shock.
Colondo couldn't help a bitter laugh.
"No — it's your brother's enemies. They can't beat him in business, so they're getting desperate."
Luca's face hardened.
"Then it's the bastards from United Fruit, isn't it?
Why should I leave? This is the Valentino family's war — and you're staying.
You're my instructor. You know I spend more time on the training field than in pleasure houses.
I'm not stupid — I know why my brother sent me here. This is the family's second foundation — my future. I have to stay."
In truth, "the family's foundation" was just an excuse. The real reason was simpler:
No member of the Valentino family ever runs from a fight.