Chapter 584 - 584: 556. Going To Washington

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"From Washington, Don Thorne," Antonio said quietly, handing it over. "Delivered by federal courier." Caleb broke the heavy wax seal. He unfolded the thick, cream colored parchment, his eyes scanning the elegant, formal script.

Mary-Beth walked into the study, pausing when she saw the intense, focused look on his face. "What is it, Caleb?"

"It is an official summons," Caleb said softly, looking up from the letter. "From the Executive Mansion."

Tesla, who had been reviewing a schematic on the desk, snapped his head up, his eyes wide with excitement. "The President?"

"Yes," Caleb nodded, handing the letter to his wife. "President McKinley has formally invited us to Washington. He wants a private demonstration of the radio. And he wants to discuss the future of the military's armaments."

Mary-Beth read the elegant script, her breath catching slightly. She looked at Caleb, a profound mixture of immense pride and heavy realization in her eyes. "This changes things, Caleb. The federal government is officially wanting to interact more with you."

Caleb turned back to the window, looking out over the city he had conquered.

Beyond the gates of the mansion, the world he had built was moving. The new factories were rising in the west. The massive radio towers were being erected in the swamps. The Business Club held the local economy in an iron grip. Thorne-Marlin rifles were being shipped to federal armories. Thorne Crown was feeding the masses of New York. The bicycles were bridging the nation, and Henry Ford was rebuilding the automobile in the north.

For the last year, Caleb had been relentlessly pushing his way into the world, trying to build influence from nothing.

But as he held the Presidential invitation, Caleb realized that the balance of power had finally shifted. He was no longer chasing influence.

Influence was coming looking for him.

"Tell Vincenzo to prepare the train," Caleb ordered quietly, a cold, terrifyingly ambitious fire burning in his eyes. "We are going to Washington."

Antonio did not blink at the order given to him. He merely offered a crisp, respectful nod. "I will convey the instructions to Vincenzo immediately, Don Thorne. The household will begin preparations."

Within the hour, the sprawling Garden District mansion transformed into a hive of calculated, high stakes logistics. Caleb was not preparing for a standard corporate audit in New York or a gritty factory inspection in Detroit. He was traveling to the absolute epicenter of the American republic to meet the President of the United States, his Vice President, and the senior officials of the federal cabinet.

Caleb understood the delicate, treacherous nature of the invitation. He wanted to make a staggering impression, but he also knew he had to tread with extreme caution. The trip represented a monumental political turning point. He was no longer operating in the shadows of local aldermen; he was stepping into the blinding light of national scrutiny.

His first directive was the preparation of the presentation gifts.

Caleb ordered his carriage and rode directly to the Thorne-Marlin manufacturing complex. He walked the floor with his factory manager, bypassing the standard assembly lines and heading straight for the master gunsmiths' private benches.

"I need two flawless collector's editions of every major weapon we currently produce," Caleb instructed, examining a newly milled receiver. "Presentation pieces. Not standard military issue."

For the next three days, the finest craftsmen in Saint Denis worked around the clock. The resulting firearms were breathtaking masterpieces of American industrial art. They prepared two matched sets including the Thorne Model 1 handgun, the devastating Auto 5 shotgun, the Vanguard infantry rifle, the Sweeper submachine gun, the Apex scout rifle, the Pioneer sporting rifle, and the heavy Enforcer shotgun.

The steel was polished to a brilliant, mirror like blue black finish. The stocks were carved from exhibition grade, burled American walnut, hand rubbed with linseed oil until they glowed. Subtle, elegant gold inlay traced the Thorne-Marlin crest on the receivers. They were secured in heavy mahogany cases lined with crushed blue velvet.

"They are beautiful, boss," the factory manager noted proudly as they locked the final case.

"They are more than beautiful," Caleb replied quietly. "They are a physical representation of American manufacturing supremacy. I want the President to hold that rifle and feel exactly what this country is capable of."

To balance the martial weight of the firearms, Caleb also commissioned two highly unique, custom built Thorne bicycles from his civilian factories. They were graceful, impeccably engineered machines, featuring hand tooled leather saddles, nickel plated handlebars, and the subtle, elegant Thorne crown branded into the frame. The combination of the weapons and the bicycles would quietly, powerfully demonstrate the sheer, unmatched breadth of Caleb's industrial empire.

Returning to the holding company offices, Caleb met with Vincenzo and Hosea to arrange the finances.

Caleb authorized a massive, highly liquid contingency fund to be transported in the train's safe. He knew the unwritten laws of Washington D.C. The capital ran on quiet favors, extravagant hospitality, political donations, and expensive dinners.

Caleb had no intention of handing out crude envelopes of illicit cash to federal senators, but he absolutely intended to possess the financial flexibility to host lavish banquets, secure the finest accommodations, and grease the wheels of legitimate political introductions without ever having to ask for a line of credit.

Vincenzo, operating with his usual high efficiency, took total command of the travel logistics. He secured the finest armored Pullman cars in the fleet, ensuring they were heavily stocked with premium Appalachian coal, fine food, medical supplies, and enough ammunition to repel a cavalry charge. He established a secure, reinforced car specifically to house the presentation gifts, the corporate ledgers, and Nikola Tesla's wildly expensive scientific equipment.

Caleb found Tesla in the swamp laboratory, up to his elbows in copper wiring.

"Nikola," Caleb called out over the hum of a generator. "I need you to pack spare antennas, vacuum tubes, and a complete secondary broadcast array. We are taking the equipment to Washington."

Tesla looked up, wiping his hands on an oil stained rag, his eyes bright. "We are demonstrating the resonance to the President?"

"If the opportunity arises, yes," Caleb confirmed. "But I have a secondary objective. If McKinley approves of the technology, and we secure the necessary federal permissions, I want to use the long train journey back South to physically map out our first communications corridor. We stop at strategic intervals, negotiate with the property owners, and begin laying the groundwork for the permanent antenna chain."

Tesla's face split into a manic, ecstatic grin. He instantly abandoned the coil he was working on and lunged for a chalkboard, rapidly calculating the atmospheric bounce required for a D.C. to Louisiana relay. "The topography of the Shenandoah Valley will require elevated broadcast masts! We will need to map the electrical grounding of the Appalachian foothills!"

Leaving the genius to his math, Caleb returned to the mansion, where Mary-Beth was efficiently directing the household staff as they packed a small mountain of leather steamer trunks.

She had meticulously curated their wardrobes for the capital. She packed heavy, conservative silk gowns and velvet traveling coats for herself, and sharp, flawlessly tailored wool suits, crisp collars, and silk ties for Caleb.

"I was thinking about the security detail, Caleb," Mary-Beth said, folding a cashmere scarf into a trunk as he walked into the bedroom. "I think you should bring Arthur and John with us."

Caleb leaned against the doorframe, watching her work. "I told them to stay here and enjoy their lives, Mary-Beth. Arthur has a wedding to plan, and John has a son."

"And they will be here when we get back," Mary-Beth replied reasonably, looking up at him. "Washington is entirely unfamiliar territory for us. It is filled with politicians who smile to your face while they try to cut your throat. Vincenzo and Silvio are excellent at logistics, but if things go wrong, you need men you trust implicitly. Arthur and John are the most reliable men you have."

Caleb considered it for a moment, recognizing the cold, practical logic in her request. He didn't expect a physical shootout on the lawn of the Executive Mansion, but having his most formidable, trusted enforcers nearby in an unknown political arena offered a profound peace of mind.

"You're right," Caleb agreed. "I'll tell them to pack their bags."

The final traveling manifest was formidable. Caleb, Mary-Beth, Nikola Tesla, Hosea, Vincenzo, Arthur, John, Silvio, Javier, Bill, Sadie Adler, and a hand picked contingent of elite Thorne capos. The group was massive enough to securely transport the staggering wealth and technology they were bringing, yet disciplined enough to maintain the polished veneer of a legitimate, high level corporate delegation.

The night before their departure, Caleb sat in the quiet study with Hosea, sharing a glass of premium bourbon.

"You need to be careful up there, Caleb," Hosea warned, his voice low and serious. "The men in this city, the Mayors and the local Aldermen... they are small fish. Washington is a different ocean. The men in that capital possess massive, entrenched institutional power. They are incredibly skilled at smiling, shaking your hand, and quietly calculating exactly how disposable you are."

"I am aware, Hosea," Caleb replied smoothly, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "But my objective is not to dominate Washington. It is to establish a relationship. I want the federal government to look at me and see an American industrialist. An inventor. A man who employs tens of thousands of their voters and builds the machines that keep their borders secure. I want to be indispensable."

The following morning, the Saint Denis train station was a flurry of organized activity.

The heavy leather trunks, the mahogany presentation cases, and Tesla's fragile crates of vacuum tubes were carefully loaded into the armored cars under Vincenzo's watchful eye.

Mary-Beth stood on the platform beside Caleb, wearing a beautifully tailored dark green traveling coat.

"This is going to be the biggest political stage we have ever stepped onto," Caleb noted quietly, adjusting his hat against the morning breeze.

Mary-Beth smiled, looping her arm through his. "Just don't forget that I am coming with you, Mr. Thorne. I plan to actually enjoy the capital. I want to see the monuments, eat at a nice restaurant, and perhaps do a little shopping. I refuse to spend the next two weeks locked in a hotel room listening to you and Hosea argue about tax tariffs."

Caleb laughed, feeling the tension bleed out of his shoulders. "I promise, sweetheart. We will make time for the monuments."

They boarded the train, and the heavy locomotive let out a deafening blast of its whistle, pulling out of the station and beginning the long, grinding journey toward the north.

The moment the train cleared the city limits and hit a steady cruising speed, Tesla appeared in the parlor car, practically vibrating with nervous energy. He grabbed Caleb by the arm and dragged him back to the heavily secured freight carriage.

Tesla had bolted two massive, highly refined radio demonstration sets to the heavy wooden workbenches.

"We must test the frequency modulation under extreme kinetic stress!" Tesla demanded, pointing to the spinning wheels beneath the floorboards. "This is our chance to prove the system is completely reliable, even in a moving environment. The military will want to know if the signal holds on a moving naval vessel. The train is a perfect substitute!"

For the next two days, as the train rattled through the deep South and up through the Carolinas, Caleb and Tesla ran grueling, relentless diagnostics. They transmitted signals from the rear freight car up to a receiver locked in the front locomotive, testing the interference generated by the massive steam boiler.

It was not a flawless process. The violent, rhythmic rocking of the train tracks caused the heavy copper induction coil to constantly vibrate out of alignment. During one transmission, a vacuum tube overheated spectacularly, cracking the glass and filling the car with the smell of ozone.

Tesla threw his hands in the air, swearing in Serbian. "The kinetic vibration is shattering the structural integrity of the glass!"

Caleb pulled off his suit jacket, grabbing a wrench. "Then we float the mounts, Nikola. We install a mechanical rubber dampener beneath the chassis of the receiver to absorb the shock of the rails, isolating the tubes from the physical vibration."

They worked for hours, covered in grease and sweat, manually adjusting the mounts until the signal stabilized beautifully over the roar of the tracks.

The heavy iron door of the freight car slid open, and Mary-Beth stepped inside, carrying a silver tray loaded with hot coffee, sliced ham, and fresh bread.

She looked at the two men, who were both hunched over a sparking copper coil, looking completely exhausted.

"I am fairly certain the President of the United States will be significantly more impressed by two living, coherent inventors than two exhausted corpses," Mary-Beth noted dryly, setting the tray down on a relatively clean patch of the workbench. "Eat your lunch. Both of you."

Caleb laughed, putting the wrench down and gratefully taking a cup of coffee.

"Sleep is a biological inefficiency, Mrs. Thorne!" Tesla protested, though he immediately grabbed a thick slice of ham. "The frequencies do not rest!"

"That is exactly the same ridiculous excuse my husband uses," Mary-Beth countered, giving Caleb a sharp, highly amused look.

The lighthearted moments kept Caleb grounded during the long journey, but as the train crossed into Virginia, a quiet, heavy reflection settled over him.

He sat alone in the parlor car late at night, watching the dark countryside blur past the window. He had met powerful bankers, ruthless outlaws, and wealthy shipping magnates. But meeting the President was different. He was walking into the absolute center of the American republic.

The decisions he made in the next few days could cement the Thorne Holding Company as a permanent pillar of the nation, or paint a federal target on his back that he would never be able to shake.

On the afternoon of the fourth day, the private train finally ground to a halt inside the massive, bustling rail station in Washington, D.C.

The atmosphere of the capital was instantly, palpably different. When Caleb stepped off the train, flanked by his heavily armed entourage, their arrival drew immediate, intense stares. The gleaming armored train cars, the sheer volume of expensive luggage, and the highly disciplined security detail made it abundantly clear that a major power had arrived in the city.

A formal government delegation was already waiting for them on the platform.

A sharp featured, impeccably dressed man stepped forward, flanked by federal police officers. He offered a crisp, highly practiced smile.

"Mr. Thorne," the man said smoothly. "I am Undersecretary Davies, from the State Department. The President has sent us to officially receive you and your party. Welcome to Washington."

"Thank you, Mr. Davies," Caleb replied, shaking the man's hand with measured politeness. "It is an honor to be here. We are ready to proceed to the Executive Mansion."

"Transportation has already been arranged, sir," Davies nodded, gesturing toward the exit.

Waiting outside the station was a striking line of early, sputtering automobiles and several immaculate, black horse-drawn carriages. Caleb and Mary-Beth were ushered into the first automobile with Undersecretary Davies. Tesla rode in the second vehicle with another government official, while Vincenzo, Arthur, John, and the rest of the gang followed closely in the carriages. The fragile radio equipment and the presentation weapons were loaded into heavily guarded wagons at the rear of the convoy.

As the motorcade moved through the streets of Washington, Caleb looked out the window, quietly analyzing the city.

It felt entirely distinct from the ancient, aristocratic decadence of Saint Denis or the towering, cutthroat commercial fortresses of New York. Washington was a city defined by wide, sweeping avenues, sprawling green parks, and massive, imposing monuments of white marble.

The streets were filled with military officers in sharp uniforms, politicians whispering in the shadows of heavy columns, and journalists rushing past horse drawn carriages. It was a city built on the ruthless currency of political power, rather than street-level wealth.

Mary-Beth looked out the window at the distant, soaring dome of the Capitol building, her eyes wide with quiet fascination. Caleb reached over, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

The convoy eventually turned onto the pristine, heavily guarded grounds of the Executive Mansion.

When Caleb's party stepped out onto the gravel driveway, they were immediately greeted by a reception line of high-ranking federal officials.

Caleb instantly recognized Secretary of War Elihu Root, standing tall and imposing in a dark suit.

"Mr. Thorne," Root greeted him warmly, stepping forward to shake his hand. "I am pleased you had a safe journey. The initial shipments of the Vanguard rifles to the federal armories have been absolutely immaculate. You have kept your word."

"Thorne-Marlin does not miss deadlines, Mr. Secretary," Caleb replied smoothly.

"Allow me to introduce Secretary of State John Hay," Root said, gesturing to a highly polished, incredibly intelligent looking man with a neatly trimmed beard.

Hay shook Caleb's hand, his eyes sharp and calculating. "It is a pleasure, Mr. Thorne. I have read the preliminary reports regarding your wireless transmission demonstration in Louisiana. If this technology is scalable, the implications for our international shipping lanes and our diplomatic embassies abroad are nothing short of revolutionary."

"The technology is entirely scalable, Mr. Secretary," Caleb assured him.

Caleb then stepped back, bringing Mary-Beth forward. "Gentlemen, allow me to introduce my wife, Mary-Beth Thorne."

The officials offered polite, respectful bows. John Hay offered a charming smile. "Welcome to the capital, Mrs. Thorne. I hope the journey from the South was not too taxing."

"Not at all, Mr. Secretary," Mary-Beth replied flawlessly, her tone perfectly balanced between warmth and high society poise. "Though I admit, it is wonderful to finally step off the train and see your beautiful city. The architecture is magnificent."

Caleb then introduced Nikola Tesla, who was greeted with genuine and full respect by the cabinet officials, who were well aware of his towering scientific reputation. However, before the delegation could be escorted into the heart of the mansion, a senior detail of federal guards and military personnel stepped forward, blocking the ornate doorway.

...

Name: Caleb Thorne

Age: 23

Body Attributes:

- Strength: 8/10

- Agility: 8/10

- Perception: 9/10

- Stamina: 8/10

- Charm: 8/10

- Luck: 9/10

Skills:

- Handgun (Lvl MAX)

- Rifle (Lvl MAX)

- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl MAX)

- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)

- Knife (Lvl MAX)

- Blunt Weapon (Lvl MAX)

- Sneaking (Lvl MAX)

- Horse Mastery (Lvl MAX)

- Poker (Lvl MAX)

- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl MAX)

- Eagle Eye (Lvl MAX)

- Dead Eye (Lvl MAX)

- Bow (Lvl MAX)

- Pain Nullifier (Lvl MAX)

- Physical Regeneration (Lvl MAX)

- Crafting (Lvl MAX)

- Persuasion (Lvl MAX)

- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)

- Cooking (Lvl MAX)

- Teaching (Lvl MAX)

- Trilingual Language Proficiency - G, I, & C (Lvl MAX)

- Inventory System (Permanent - 100x100x100)

- Acting (Lvl MAX)

- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)

- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)

- Drugs Resistance (Lvl MAX)

- Business (Lvl MAX)

- Leadership (Lvl MAX)

Money: 2,772 dollars and 60 cents

Inventory: 283,392 dollars and 61 cents, 11 gold nuggets, 74 gold bars, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 Colm's Schofields, 1 land deed (Parcel), 1 Mauser, 1 Semi Auto Pistol, 1 Lancaster Repeater, 1 Old Wood Jewelry Box, 1 F.F Mausoleum small brass key, 1 Ruby, 1 Broken Pirate Sword, 1 Milton's Safety Deposit Key, Proof Of Marlin-Thorne Firearms Co., 10 Dynamites, 1 LeMat, 1 M1899, 1 Carcano, 1 Ownership deed of Doyle's Tavern, 3 Diamonds, & Important Documents & Deeds Of Cornwall

Bank: -