The Revolution Came

Chapter 25: Cabinet Battle

July 20th, 1933

Cody and Ken Drick rarely had time for casual conversation these days, and today was no exception.

Cody stepped into the office, the scent of old wood and parchment filling the air. Ken Drick sat at the head of the table, his fingers drumming lazily against the polished surface. But Cody’s attention was drawn to an unexpected presence, someone he was certain had taken the last ship back to the Empire.

“Dwayne Newhiskey,” Cody greeted, forcing a smile as he pulled his hand from his pocket and extended it in greeting.

Dwayne barely spared him a glance before rolling his eyes. He didn’t take the handshake, didn’t even pretend to consider it. Instead, he settled into his seat with a passive frown, exuding disdain without a word.

Cody withdrew his hand, unfazed, as Ken Drick took control of the room.

“The issue on the table: Britain and France are calling for our support against Germany and the Austro-Hungarian colonies in the North Pacific. The question is, do we send aid and troops to our former enemy and our French allies, or do we stay out of it?” Ken Drick gestured toward the map of Asia spread across the table.

A heavy silence settled over the room, the weight of the decision pressing on them all.

Ken Drick leaned back, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And remember,” he added, tapping a finger against his chest, “Congress doesn’t get a say in this. The only person you need to convince is me.”

The secretaries exchanged glances, knowing full well Ken Drick enjoyed watching them argue their cases. He wasn’t just looking for policy, he was looking for conviction.

“Secretary Newhiskey, you have the floor.”

Dwayne didn’t hesitate. He straightened in his chair, his voice sharp and unwavering.

“When we were on death’s door when we were desperate - who provided us with funds, weapons, and a chance to stand against the British?”

A moment passed before another secretary answered. “France.”

Dwayne nodded. “And in return, they didn’t ask for land, didn’t demand gold. All they wanted was our word. A promise that, when their time of need came, we would stand beside them. That time is now."

The words hung in the air like a challenge.

Then, Dwayne’s eyes flickered toward Cody, and his expression twisted into something smug. “But Secretary Rivera here doesn’t understand loyalty. He talks about freedom, yet dresses like false royalty - though, let’s be honest, he’s practically penniless.”

Ken Drick’s brow furrowed. The other secretaries exchanged confused glances. Cody might not be wealthy, but calling him royalty? It was a weak jab at best.

Cody, however, remained impassive. He had endured worse.

Dwayne leaned back with a smirk. “So, if you didn’t know, sir… now you know.”

Ken Drick waved a dismissive hand. “Thank you, Secretary Newhiskey. Secretary Rivera, your response?”

Cody exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You must be out of your goddamn mind if you think the president is going to declare war.”

The room tensed as Cody continued. “This is a game of chess, and France is both kingless and queenless. If we rely on the British, we could help defeat the colonies, sure - but do we want to risk turning our own people against us? Do we want to risk economic collapse, another war draining our resources when we’re barely standing on our own?”

Silence.

Then Ken Drick straightened, his usual smirk fading. “Enough. Secretary Rivera is right.”

Dwayne’s smug expression faltered. “Mister President-”

Ken Drick raised a hand, cutting him off. “We’re too fragile to start another fight.”

Dwayne’s jaw clenched. “But sir, don’t we fight for freedom? We signed a treaty with Britain-”

Ken Drick sighed. “And they can wait. We’ll issue a statement of neutrality.” He turned toward Cody. “Secretary Rivera, draft the document.”

Cody gave a curt nod. “Yes, sir.”

With that, the meeting was over. The secretaries gathered their papers, chairs scraping against the floor as they filed out.

Except for two.

Dwayne and Cody remained.

Cody busied himself organizing his notes, making a mental list of how to phrase the neutrality statement. He barely had time to register the movement before-

CRACK.

A sharp pain shot through his ankle as he collapsed to one knee. His vision blurred, his breath caught in his throat.

Dwayne loomed over him, cane pressed hard against the injured ankle. His smile was cold, victorious.

“Don’t you feel even a shred of regret?” Dwayne hissed. “We signed a treaty. We swore an oath.”

Cody clenched his jaw, gripping the edge of the desk for support. “The British and French can hold their own for now. We’re- ahh!”

Dwayne pressed harder.

Another crack.

Cody's vision went white with pain as his ankle snapped beneath the pressure.

Dwayne straightened, smoothing his coat as he turned toward the door. “You always were a coward, Cody.”

Then, just like that, he was gone.

Cody gritted his teeth, beads of sweat forming at his brow. His fingers dug into the desk as he forced himself to stand, grabbing a stick hidden beneath his desk for support. His leg throbbed, but he pushed forward.

Stumbling toward the exit, he ignored the wary glances from passing officials. He had only one thought in mind.

He needed to get home.

It would be a long way back.

To Be Continued