Overall, the senators' limited numbers and unrestricted terms make their status relatively independent, and they often serve as spokespersons for the interests of their respective states.
Remember, the U.S. is a federal system, where each state enjoys considerable autonomy, with its own constitution and independent legislative, executive, and judicial branches. They often express dissatisfaction with the federal government through secessionist movements.
Such factors contribute to the senators' high status, and a significant portion of presidential candidates usually have a background in the Senate.
As a leading figure in the Senate, Senator Alex Lopez holds significant influence. Not only is he successful on Capitol Hill, but he also has considerable sway. He is one of the main targets for Bruce in these gatherings.
"Please, call me Alex, or Mr. Lopez if you prefer," Alex Lopez responded with even greater warmth, introducing the two women with him. "My wife, Mia, and my Chief of Staff, Megan Brooks."
Alex Lopez's friendly demeanor didn't surprise Bruce; money and power are perennial companions. His presence here was purposeful, aiming to curry favor with the wealthy, especially significant donors like Bruce with Super PACs, as they might become campaign financiers. Even if not now, possibly in the future.
Such is the nature of money politics.
Under this mutually beneficial premise, their conversation flowed pleasantly, a scene of harmony like others around them, mingling, drinking, networking. And among these officials, tycoons, and celebrities were numerous stern-eyed, burly men in black suits — their bodyguards.
Security is crucial at such events. However, with the hall brimming with staff, security personnel, stages, and media, it's complex and prone to oversights.
So, when a bearded man quickly pulled out a small plastic bottle from his pocket and hurled its contents towards Alex Lopez, nearly all the bodyguards failed to react in time.
"Nearly," because one particularly large bodyguard, Gus, displayed an agility belying his massive frame. He flung off his jacket, hurling it perfectly to intercept the splash of red liquid.
Bruce and Gal, talking with Alex, had their backs to the aggressor. But Bruce, seemingly with eyes in the back of his head, simply extended an arm, exerting an unimaginable force to push everyone out of harm's way. Then, he pulled Gal back a step. His movements were so swift that not a single person was stained when the remaining liquid fell.
"Thud!" went the large splash of liquid stopped by the jacket.
"Smack!" went the residual droplets hitting the ground.
Screams and gasps erupted from all around.
Only then did Alex Lopez and the others, jostled and disoriented, realize what happened. His wife Mia and Chief of Staff were visibly shaken, horror written on their faces. Alex Lopez himself looked grimly at the small pool of residue on the ground. The thick, red paint — notoriously hard to clean — had nearly covered him. If it had, he'd be the headline in all major media outlets by the next morning.
With this thought, Alex's eyes furiously sought the perpetrator.
It's worth noting, the attacker's aim was incredibly precise, like a guided missile, meaning the paint's spread was minimal after being disrupted by Gus and Bruce. Only a few unlucky souls got splattered, now cursing and trying to clean up amidst the chaos.
"Alex Lopez! You son of a bitch! The drone project only targets and kills innocent children, you executioner...FUCK YOU!"
The bearded man splashed the paint and then tossed the bottle aside, swiftly opening his coat to reveal a white T-shirt underneath with the words "Drones = Butchers!" written in bright red. As he began to curse Alex Lopez under his breath.
But before he could yell a second time, Gus, now without his coat and only in a white shirt, leapt at him, tackling him down and grabbing his throat, silencing him completely.
"You talk too much," Gus sneered as he tore a piece off the bearded man's T-shirt, balled it up, and stuffed it into his mouth. He then handcuffed the man's hands behind his back, lifting him up like a small chicken.
Gus's suit jacket had been thrown in a hurry to block the paint, and now his shirt clung tightly to his muscular body, displaying his impressive physique and emitting waves of strong male pheromones, making the onlookers dizzy and several middle-aged women's eyes shimmer, even feeling a dampness below.
Handing over the still muffled and whimpering bearded man to a nearby guard, Gus straightened his tie and returned to Bruce's side. The staff and security quickly controlled the minor disturbance.
"You're too quick, Bruce, unbelievably agile! Thanks, you know, there are just so many idiots looking for trouble these days. If it weren't for your quick reaction, I might've been tomorrow's headline," Alex Lopez quickly regained his composure after the situation was under control. He had proposed changes to the current drone legislation, advocating greater autonomy for drone projects. The bearded man was probably an extreme protester, one of many who fancied themselves heroes for various causes, but today he was thwarted.
Had his own picture, covered in paint, hit the headlines, it would have been a significant blow to his future prospects, not an exaggeration. Then, it would be up to the crisis PR team, as his competitors wouldn't miss such an opportunity. Deep down, Alex Lopez was quite relieved and genuinely grateful to Bruce.
"That man had a media pass; it might be a security lapse, but not a big issue. Luckily, it was only paint, not something dangerous like acid, and no one was hurt," Bruce said, initially amused by the spectacle. Such attackers were common in the U.S., but when the target was his client, he had to act, also seizing the opportunity to ingratiate himself with Alex Lopez.
"And this guy," Alex said, turning to Gus with a smile, reaching to pat his shoulder but finding their height difference awkward, so he patted his arm instead. "Thanks, buddy. Bruce, your bodyguard is excellent, obviously a very professional elite. How did you find someone so skilled?"
"Ha, Gus is indeed great. I have some connections if you need better bodyguards, I can arrange that," Bruce replied, a thought striking him.
"It's a deal," laughed Alex Lopez, then turned serious. "I owe you one, Bruce."
Bruce just smiled.
The incident brought them closer together, and the rest of the evening followed the typical cocktail party routine: speeches, networking, drinking. With Alex introducing Bruce around, his social circle expanded a bit more.
The cocktail party was rather enjoyable, Bruce thought on his way back, especially the performance by the popular singer Aryana Jones.