While Chevanton was making his phone call, Martin was pulling Ivanka into a corner to discuss the PR strategy for the situation.
"What's going on?" Ivanka asked urgently. "Why is someone accusing you of killing his son?"
"Because I actually did," Martin replied calmly.
"What?!" Ivanka gasped, lowering her voice in shock.
Martin quickly explained the backstory, walking her through the details.
Only then did Ivanka relax.
"So, it was a murderer, and you acted in self-defense," she concluded.
In Ivanka's view, the act of killing wasn't the issue—it was about the why and who. For instance, Martin had killed two robbers during the Manhattan bank heist. Instead of facing criticism, he became a celebrated American hero.
"This sounds like a grieving father acting out emotionally. If the police clarify the situation, that should resolve everything," Ivanka said confidently.
But Martin shook his head.
"I think..." Martin's mind flashed to Chevanton's cold, calculating expression. "This isn't so simple."
"What do you mean?" Ivanka, phone in hand, hesitated.
"Chevanton, the White House liaison, just approached me, offering to help resolve this," Martin explained, recounting their earlier conversation.
Ivanka's expression turned serious, her brows furrowing as she processed the implications.
Born into a politically connected family, Ivanka was no stranger to the nuances of power and influence. In a country like the United States, where politics and business were deeply intertwined, her upbringing had given her a keen sense for detecting hidden agendas.
"President Bush has been under heavy pressure lately," Ivanka noted. "The Afghanistan War isn't wrapping up as quickly as expected, and Congress has been grilling him about it."
"I know him fairly well. He has a stubborn personality—when people oppose him, he doubles down. He sees it as a matter of proving them wrong."
"In other words, he's hardheaded," Martin quipped internally.
"He's backed by oil magnates and arms manufacturers, so it's inevitable that his presidency will feature more wars. But with mounting opposition in Congress, he'll need a scapegoat to deflect some of the pressure..." Ivanka trailed off, her eyes meeting Martin's.
"So I'm the convenient scapegoat?" Martin chuckled dryly.
Ivanka nodded. "It seems that way."
Martin delved into his memories. This timeline's President Bush had become one of the most controversial U.S. leaders. His initial popularity after the 9/11 attacks had skyrocketed, with approval ratings exceeding 85%. However, this peak was short-lived.
As his administration dragged the country into prolonged wars and mishandled domestic policies, public opinion plummeted. By 2006, his approval ratings had dipped to around 40%, hitting a record low for a U.S. president.
Despite this, Bush managed to secure reelection in 2004—largely because no one else wanted to inherit the quagmire of the Afghanistan conflict.
Over his two terms, he became widely disliked, not only domestically but globally. A poll of 21 major countries revealed that most viewed Bush's foreign policies as a threat to global security.
One survey even named him the second-greatest threat to world peace—just behind Osama bin Laden and ahead of North Korea's Kim Jong-il.
Martin concluded that Bush's reelection was likely inevitable in this timeline too. No one wanted to step into his mess.
This meant Martin couldn't afford to alienate the president completely. But at the same time, he couldn't retract his anti-war stance without damaging his credibility.
If compromise wasn't an option, there was only one path left—strategy.
Martin smiled faintly.
"Ivanka, contact the LAPD and Hollywood police first. Then, ask your father if he can help arrange a meeting with President Bush."
"You want to compromise with him?" Ivanka asked, a hint of disappointment flashing in her eyes. "That could harm your reputation. As your PR manager, I can't support this decision."
Martin caught the subtle shift in her emotions and shook his head.
"No, I'm not compromising. I'm persuading him."
Ivanka let out a small breath of relief.
"That's going to be difficult," she admitted.
"But it's worth trying, isn't it? Besides..." Martin's gaze sharpened. "He can't take me down. I just want to avoid having a president constantly targeting me."
Ivanka smiled. This was the Martin she admired—confident and unshakable, as if nothing in the world could defeat him.
Ten minutes later, Ivanka hung up the phone.
"You were right. We're definitely being targeted. The LAPD chief is conveniently 'on a fishing trip,' and the Hollywood police chief rejected the request to expedite their investigation. He claims it needs to follow the usual process."
Ivanka laughed at the absurdity. "The Hollywood police are basically glorified security guards for celebrities. You've d so much money to them over the years!"
"Idiots," Martin muttered, shaking his head. "Don't bother with the LAPD chief. He's about to retire and isn't worth the effort. Focus on contacting your father—I'll make a call of my own."