Silence fell once again.
But this time, the silence was not born of fear, but of calculation.
Ron Smith picked up the handkerchief again and wiped the sweat from his neck.
He looked at the glittering closed loop on the screen, then at Leo standing in the shadows.
Erie's docks had indeed been in disrepair for a long time. If a construction crew came to fix them, it would not only create jobs but also save a large chunk of the fiscal budget.
The math worked out.
But that was all contingent on whether these so-called "notes" were actually usable.
Smith was an old-school man.
He believed in gold, in the US Dollar, even in physical bullion. But he found it hard to believe a string of code dancing on a server could replace cold, hard cash to pay workers' wages.
'What if it was a trap?'
'What if Leo Wallace was just trying to use their credit to plug the holes in Pittsburgh's own budget?'
"Leo."
Smith spoke, his voice laced with caution.
