Five minutes later.
Ron Smith appeared on the balcony of City Hall.
The crowd below instantly erupted.
"Give us our money!"
"Liar!"
All sorts of objects were thrown up at him, but Smith didn't flinch.
He stood there, his expression solemn, carrying an air of heart-wrenching, tragic heroism.
He raised a megaphone.
"Citizens! Fellow workers! I know you're anxious! I'm anxious too!"
Smith's voice was loud and clear, drowning out the noise from the square.
"I want to pay out the pensions too! I also want the factory to be running at full speed right now!"
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the angry faces.
"But!"
Smith abruptly raised his hand, pointing straight to the south, in the direction of Pittsburgh.
"Our money is being withheld!"
"We worked day and night to support Pittsburgh's development! We sent them our best steel, the blood and sweat of our workers!"
"But that mayor, Leo Wallace, he broke his promise!"
"He took our goods but is holding our money hostage!"
