Creating America: My campaign manager was Roosevelt

Chapter 119 Heading to Washington

Chapter 119 Heading to Washington

The smell in the air of Pittsburgh City Hall's Conference Room 1 was suffocating.

Seven or eight people dressed in expensive suits sat around a long table.

They were top administrative lawyers whom Karen Miller urgently brought in from Washington and Philadelphia.

These people, who earn as much as $800 an hour, are now arguing like vendors in a market.

"No! This won't work!"

A lawyer wearing gold-rimmed glasses slammed the law code he was holding onto the table.

"According to Title 74 of the Penn Omnibus Code, while local governments have the right to formulate regional logistics plans, they must comply with state-level macro-control guidelines. That statewide coordination assessment has a legal basis, and we cannot reject it procedurally."

"Then let's invoke the Charter of Urban Self-Government!"

Another lawyer with a full head of white hair retorted.

"Pittsburgh is a first-class municipality, and we have independent jurisdiction over land use and economic development. We can argue that the state Department of Transportation's intervention violates our municipal autonomy and apply for an injunction in federal court!"

"Request an injunction?"

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses sneered.

"Do you know how long the waiting list for federal court is? Even if we apply for an emergency hearing, the other party only needs to raise a jurisdictional objection to drag the case into a long legal wrangling. By the time the judge strikes the gavel, it will be too late!"

The blackboard next to the long table was densely covered with dozens of legal clauses, case numbers, and various arrows.

This is the result of their research that took them a whole day.

A bunch of contradictory legal provisions, a bunch of dead ends.

John Murphy sat in the corner, clutching the phone tightly in his hand.

He was yelling into the phone.

"Harry, for God's sake, can't you help me even once? All I need is a hearing appointment with the Pennsylvania Department of Community and Economic Development! — What? It's in process? Screw process!"

Murphy abruptly hung up the phone and threw it on the table.

He looked up at Leo, his eyes filled with despair.

"It's no use."

Murphy shook his head.

"The bureaucrats in Harrisburg seem to have conspired together; everyone's passing the buck to me. Monroe has blocked the way; he's been operating in the state government for years, that's his territory."

Ethan Hawke stood by the window, looking at the gloomy sky outside, unconsciously tearing at a paper cup in his hand.

Leo sat in the main seat.

He looked at the complex legal terms on the blackboard, at the arguing lawyers, and at his desperate allies.

He felt a strong wave of dizziness.

Twelve days.

There are twelve days left in the countdown.

Every passing second pushed him toward the abyss of city bankruptcy and disgrace.

"Mr. President."

Leo called out in his mind.

"Do we have a plan? Which law should we invoke to fight back? Should we use the self-government charter or the federal antitrust law?"

"Help me, we're being strangled by these legal provisions."

7

Deep in his mind, Roosevelt's cold laugh echoed.

There is no solution.

"Leo, lift your head up."

"Have you forgotten? A leader is meant to see the forest, while your team is just counting the leaves."

Leo paused for a moment.

"Look at the people in front of you."

Roosevelt continued.

"They are lawyers, technocrats. Their job is to bury themselves in piles of paper and search for those tiny, insignificant logical gaps."

"But you are not."

"You are the mayor, you are a politician."

"Do you think this is a law exam? Do you think that as long as you answer the questions correctly, as long as you find that perfect law, the teacher will give you full marks?"

Roosevelt's voice was full of sarcasm.

"In this game, there are no teachers, only referees."

"And the referee now is Aston Monroe."

"Even if you have the best legal team in the country, even if you actually find that perfect clause in a pile of papers that can refute statewide compliance, so what?"

"Monroe can immediately find another regulation to shut you up."

"He can request supplementary materials, request expert consultation, and postpone the hearing for three or six months."

"He holds the initiative in the administrative process."

"Do you have time to play these word games with them? How many days are left in your twelve-day countdown?"

"Don't seek justice in the dock, Leo."

"Because the court is run by someone else."

Leo felt a chill run through his body.

He looked at the lawyers who were still debating which amendment to take and suddenly felt that their voices had become incredibly distant.

They were trying to block an elephant with a piece of paper.

"What should I do?" Leo asked himself. "If the legal channels are blocked, if Harrisburg is closed off, where can I go?"

"Jump out."

Roosevelt provided the answer.

"Go to Washington."

Leo was even more confused.

"Washington? Sanders has done us the biggest favor; he's got the funding sorted out. But he can't handle the administrative approvals in Harrisburg, which is a state power. You yourself have said that he has no roots in the state."

"If even Sanders can't be handled, what's the point of me going?"

"Monroe is a local power in Pennsylvania, and his ties within the party run much deeper than Sanders'."

No, you're wrong.

Roosevelt's voice deepened.

"Sanders can't handle it because in this system, he only represents the progressives."

"He has enemies within the party. When he speaks in Harrisburg, Monroe can ignore him or even deliberately oppose him."

"But don't forget who you are."

Roosevelt unfolded a vast map in Leo's mind.

That was a map of American politics.

Red states, blue states, and those wavering purple states.

"You're not just a member of the progressive movement, you're also the mayor of Pittsburgh."

"Look at the calendar, Leo."

"What time is it now?"

"On the eve of the midterm elections."

"What time is two years from now?"

"Presidential election."

"Pennsylvania has 19 electoral votes, making it one of the most crucial swing states in determining who will win the White House."

"Without Pennsylvania, the Democrats will have a hard time holding onto the White House; losing Pennsylvania gives the Republicans hope of a comeback."

"And Pittsburgh was the key factor in determining Pennsylvania's fate."

"What you hold in your hands is not just the administrative power of a city."

"You hold hundreds of thousands of wavering blue-collar votes in your hands."

"For those who truly dominate America in Washington, whether you're the mastermind of the White House or the strategist of the Democratic National Committee, you only have two attributes."

"Or, you're their asset."

"Either you are a threat to them."

"Whichever it is, as long as you show up in Washington, as long as you put this attribute on the table."

"They have to give you a nice look."

"You don't need to beg them; you need to demonstrate your destructive power."

"Your current value lies in your ability to wreak havoc on Pennsylvania at any time."

Leo's breathing became rapid.

He understood.

This is not a legal issue; it is a geopolitical issue.

This is also the highest level of political blackmail.

If Pittsburgh goes bankrupt because of the state government’s obstruction, and if Leo Wallace falls, who will the angry Pittsburgh voters hold accountable?

This would cause the Democratic Party's support in Pennsylvania to collapse.

This is a price that the bigwigs in Washington absolutely cannot afford.

Leo suddenly stood up.

The chair scraped against the floor, making a harsh sound.

The arguing in the meeting room stopped abruptly.

Everyone looked at Leo, at the young mayor.

His face was still pale, but the confusion and anxiety in his eyes had disappeared, replaced by a chilling determination.

That's enough.

Although Leo's voice wasn't loud, it was enough to instantly silence the noisy argument in the conference room.

Everyone looked at him, awaiting the young mayor's final decision.

Leo walked to the blackboard and tapped heavily on the densely packed legal provisions with his finger.

"Keep searching."

Leo said to the bewildered lawyers.

"Keep searching through this pile of papers, don't stop. Even if you find a single punctuation error, write it into the appeal."

"I want you to adopt a do-or-die attitude, to make Harrisburg feel that we have staked all our hopes on the legal process."

The lawyer with the gold-rimmed glasses breathed a sigh of relief and adjusted his glasses: "Mr. Mayor, this is a wise move. Although the chances of winning are slim, at least it can buy us time—"

No, you didn't understand what I meant.

Leo interrupted him.

"This is just a cover."

"The law can't save Pittsburgh, and I don't expect you to win this case."

"Your mission is to make noise and draw enemy fire."

After saying that, Leo ignored the lawyers who were looking at each other in bewilderment.

Leo looked at Murphy.

"John, help me pack my things."

Murphy looked bewildered: "Where to? Back to the office?"

"No."

Leo shook his head.

"To the airport."

"I'm going to Washington."

"Washington?" Murphy was even more confused. "Go to Sanders? I told you, he can't get involved in these state-level administrative matters—"

"Don't go after Sanders."

Leo's gaze passed through the window and looked towards the eastern sky.

"We need to find someone bigger."

"We need to find those who can truly decide the rules of this game."

"We need to go see the chairman of the Democratic National Committee."

"We need to go see the White House Chief of Staff."

The conference room was deathly silent.

Everyone thought Leo had gone mad.

A newly appointed mayor, whose infrastructure project was stalled by the state government, wanted to bypass the government and go directly to the White House.

This is simply a fantasy.

"Leo, this is impossible," Ethan couldn't help but say. "They won't see you. You're not high enough. It's against the rules."

"rule?"

Leo gave a cold laugh.

"Ethan, you still haven't grasped the situation."

"If Pittsburgh goes bankrupt, if we create a huge financial disaster on the eve of the midterm elections."

Who is most afraid?

"Is it me? Is it Murphy?"

"No."

"The people who are most afraid are those sitting in Washington, hoping that Pennsylvania's votes will preserve their power."

Leo walked up to Ethan and straightened the chief of staff's tie.

"Remember one thing, Ethan."

"If you owe the bank a hundred dollars, that's your problem."

"If you owe a bank $100 million, that's the bank's problem."

"Now, Pittsburgh is that customer who owes a hundred million dollars."

"What we hold in our hands is not just debt, but also a bomb that can blow up their entire electoral landscape."

"As long as I show up in Washington, as long as I stand in front of them."

"They must see me."

"Because I am the fuse of this bomb."

Leo turned around, picked up the coat hanging on the hanger, and put it on.

"Book tickets."

Leo gave the order.

"The fastest flight."

Heavy rain was pouring down on Interstate 376 on the way to Pittsburgh International Airport.

The windshield wipers swung wildly across the windshield, making a monotonous and rapid screeching sound, but they still couldn't clear away the seemingly endless curtain of water.

Outside the car window, the outline of this steel city was distorted and blurred in the rain and mist, like an oil painting that hadn't fully dried but had been splattered by rain.

The air inside the carriage was so stuffy it was suffocating.

Ethan Hawke drove with his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, his eyes fixed on the blurry road ahead, not daring to be distracted for even a moment.

Leo Wallace, sitting in the back seat, held his phone in his hand.

The cold light from the screen shone on his face, while the countdown on the wall continued to replay in his mind.

Twelve days left.

If the $500 million in bonds cannot be approved for sale within twelve days, then everything will be over.

Leo took a deep breath and dialed a familiar number.

The phone rang three times.

"Leo".

Daniel Sanders' voice came through.

The background noise coming through the receiver was very loud, seemingly during a break at a hearing.

The old senator's voice sounded tired, with a hint of barely concealed anxiety.

"I know things are bad. That bastard Monroe is playing with fire," Sanders said before Leo could speak. "I'm trying to talk to the people at the Department of Transportation for you. I spoke with the Secretary's chief of staff, but you know, they always use state power as a shield."

"Federal agencies don't want to directly intervene in Pennsylvania's administrative review process, as this involves sensitive issues of jurisdiction, and I need to put pressure on them over time."

"Senator," Leo interrupted him.

Sanders paused for a moment: "What's wrong?"

"I don't have time."

Leo looked out the window at the rapidly receding rain.

"I can't sit here and wait, I have to go to Washington."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the phone.

The pause lasted only two seconds, but the pressure in the air suddenly increased.

What are you doing here?

Sanders' tone changed instantly.

The previous fatigue and reassurance had vanished without a trace, replaced by wariness and questioning in his words.

"Leo Wallace, why are you in such a hurry to come over? Who are you planning to kneel before?"

Leo frowned: "I'm not going to kneel down, I'm going to solve the problem."

"Solve problems? In Washington, there are only two ways to solve problems. One is through power, and the other is through deals." Sanders' voice rose several octaves. "You don't have power, so what are you going to use to make deals?"

"Did those brokers from K Street contact you?"

"Or did those Wall Street bankers who control the back door to the Treasury give you a hint?" Sanders pressed. "Did they tell you that if you signed a few unfair terms, or if you sold them Pittsburgh's water or parking systems, they could fix Harrisburg's problems for you?"

"Leo, how many times do I have to say it? It's an alligator pool! Washington is a giant alligator pool!"

"You are a progressive role model that we have worked so hard to establish. Everything you did in Pittsburgh proved that our path is viable."

"You are hope, you are the future."

"If you make some dirty deal with the Washington establishment to meet that twelve-day deadline, you'll ruin yourself!"

"More importantly, you will ruin our sport!"

Sanders' words came at you like a barrage of bullets.

"Our reputation nationwide is built on fighting corruption and money."

Based on this, if you, the mayor of this model home, were to bow to capital for survival, what would the Republican Party say?

Is it worth sacrificing an entire faith to save a city?

Leo held the phone, remaining silent for a long time.

The only sound in the carriage was the patter of raindrops hitting the roof.

He fell silent after being scolded.

Sanders' words stand on the moral high ground and are impeccable.

For an idealist, faith truly transcends everything.

"Don't be intimidated by his anger, Leo."

Roosevelt's voice rang in Leo's mind at just the right moment.

"Senator Sanders is a good man and a staunch fighter. But in this matter, he is still acting in his own self-interest."

"Your purity is his political asset."

Roosevelt analyzed the logic behind this.

"For Sanders, Pittsburgh is just a pawn on his national chessboard. If this pawn is sacrificed because of the enemy's underhanded tactics, it's a tragic story. He can use this tragedy to mobilize voters and attack the injustice of the system."

"That was a glorious defeat."

"But if you have to collude with the establishment and make deals with lobbyists just to survive, then it proves that his revolutionary path is not viable in reality. It proves that you can't govern a city without money and power."

"That was a humiliating victory."

"He'd rather Pittsburgh go bankrupt, because that's Monroe and Warren's fault; he wouldn't want to see you betray them, because that would be a failure for the progressives."

"He wants you to be Iphigenia, Leo."

"In order to enable his fleet to set sail, for the sake of that so-called greater good, Agamemnon personally sacrificed his own daughter to the altar."

"Sacrifices are always pure, because they cannot speak or resist."

"Sanders wants you to die a glorious and tragic death so that he can stand on your corpse and deliver a deeply moving eulogy to attack those greedy Republicans."

Leo's eyes cleared.

"But I don't want to be a sacrifice."

He understood Sanders' position, but he couldn't accept this outcome.

He didn't get this position to be a sacrifice.

Behind him are 300,000 Pittsburgh residents, workers waiting for their wages, and elderly people waiting for their houses to be repaired.

Their survival was more important than Sanders's beliefs.

Leo took a deep breath and spoke into the microphone, his voice calm and undisturbed.

"Senator, I understand your concerns."

"But I have to go."

"If I can't even save my city, if I let my citizens go bankrupt in the cold wind, then I have no right to talk about faith, nor do I have the right to be a role model for progress."

"I cannot stand by and watch Pittsburgh die because of my purity."

"I have to go."

There was a deathly silence on the other end of the phone.

Sanders did not speak.

He sensed the resolve in Leo's tone.

That resolute determination reminded him of himself decades ago, the young mayor who traveled through the icy wilderness of Vermont to fight for subsidies for the poor.

He faced the same choice back then.

He knew he couldn't stop the young man.

Just like back then, no one could stop him.

"well----"

A long sigh came through the receiver.

That sigh contained disappointment, helplessness, and a hint of compromise.

"I know I can't stop you," Sanders' voice lowered. "You're on your way to the airport now, aren't you?"

"Alright, if you insist on coming, then come on."

"But I have a point to make first."

Sanders' tone turned stern again.

"I won't take you to those private fundraising dinners, and I won't introduce you to any K Street lobbyists. If you want to go that route, go for it yourself, and don't keep my name on your lips."

"I understand," Leo replied.

"I'll give you a list," Sanders said. "I'll have Marcus send it to your encrypted email later."

"Those are the second-in-commands of several federal executive departments, that is, deputy ministers. For example, the deputy minister of transportation and the assistant minister of energy."

"They are technocrats, and also people who haven't been completely swallowed up by the swamp of Washington. Some of them were my policy advisors, and some sympathized with our ideals."

"Go see them."

"Go talk to them about your employment, your industrial safety, and your green infrastructure. Use the right approach to persuade them, and use policies to move them."

"Let's see if we can find some kind of administrative exemption clause at the federal level, or some kind of direct funding channel that can bypass the state government."

"This is the last bit of help I can give you."

Leo gripped his phone tightly: "Thank you, Senator."

"Don't thank me yet."

Sanders interrupted him.

"Remember, Leo, this is the last red line."

"You can try, you can lobby, you can find a way out."

"But if you signed that contract that sold out the city's future, if you accepted secret bridge loans from certain large conglomerates, if you became one of them—"

Sanders' voice turned icy cold.

Don't expect me to defend you.

"At that moment, we will no longer be allies."

"I will personally deliver a speech condemning your betrayal, and I will call on all progressive voters to abandon you."

"Take care of yourself."

"beep"

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