Chapter 612 - 288: One of Us

「Harrisburg, State Capitol Building.」

It was a labyrinth of rules, procedures, and unwritten customs.

Normally, getting a controversial bill passed here was a long and arduous journey.

It would be tossed into a special committee for hearings, dismembered by countless amendments from the opposition, and buried at the bottom of a pile of documents by the Rules Committee until it gathered dust.

These were the delay tactics that lobbying groups excelled at.

If they could just stall long enough, public enthusiasm would cool and the media’s attention would shift elsewhere.

At this moment, the lobbyists for the pharmaceutical giants were gathered in the corridor outside the chamber.

Although they had lost a round in the phone call blitz, they were not in despair.

They still had cards to play.

Their briefcases were stuffed with pre-drafted amendments and checks for campaign contributions promised to various representatives.

Their strategy was clear.

Delay.

As soon as the bill entered its second reading, they would have representatives in their pocket introduce an endless stream of amendments.

From the use of a comma to the definition of a word, they could pick apart every clause and debate it for three days and three nights.

They would drag this bill into a legislative quagmire.

This delay had a very specific strategic purpose.

The giants needed a window of opportunity.

They needed at least two weeks to launch a statewide PR offensive. For every extra day the bill spent in the assembly, a hundred more scare-tactic ads about a "healthcare crisis" would appear on television screens across the state.

They would hire experts to go on television and claim that forcing the disclosure of base prices would deplete R&D funds, cause pharmaceutical companies to leave Pennsylvania, and lead to tens of thousands of job losses.

Complexity is the disguise of power.

They wanted to translate the simple logic of lowering prices into a prophecy of disaster that the average voter couldn’t understand.

They would use the media to instill a fear in the voters: Leo Wallace was destroying the most advanced healthcare system in All of America.

Meanwhile, their lobbying team would patrol the halls of Harrisburg with checkbooks in hand, working to sway more representatives.

They would tell them that by casting a ’no’ vote, or even just by cooperating with the procedural delays, they would receive the full backing of the entire pharmaceutical industry.

At that point, all of Leo Wallace’s public opinion campaigns would become a joke.

At ten o’clock in the morning, the doors to the House of Representatives chamber opened.

The Speaker of the House, Dante Russo, ascended to the high dais.

He was an Italian-American man in his fifties, with graying hair and a grim look in his eyes.

Russo took his seat and adjusted his tie.

He picked up his gavel, his gaze sweeping over the restless opposition members below.

"Order."

Russo struck the gavel.

"We will now begin the agenda. Bill HB-709, the Medicine Benefits Transparency and Fairness Bill."

The opposition leader, senior Republican Party representative Parker, immediately stood up.

He held a speech, ready to deliver a long-winded tirade on the sanctity of the free market, and then move to send the bill back to committee for reconsideration.

"Mr. Speaker, regarding Section 107 of this bill, I have serious..."

"Representative Parker, please be seated."

Russo cut him off directly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an undeniable authority.

"The chair is not accepting debate at this time."

Parker was stunned. "What? According to the rules of order, I have the right during the second reading to..."

"The Majority Leader will please rise."

Russo didn’t even glance at Parker, instead calling directly on the Democratic Party leader in the front row.

The Majority Leader understood his cue and rose to his feet.

He wasn’t holding any documents, because he already knew his few lines by heart.

"Mr. Speaker."

The leader’s voice echoed through the loudspeakers.

"Given that this bill concerns a statewide public health emergency, and has garnered widespread public attention and urgent demand, in the interest of legislative efficiency and in response to the call of the voters..."

"I move to suspend the rules."

"...so that we may proceed to an immediate vote on Bill HB-709, and skip the subsequent second and third reading intervals."

The words hit the chamber like a bombshell.

The once-noisy hall fell into a dead silence.

This was the ultimate power play used by the Speaker and the majority party to crush minority obstruction.

If this motion passed, all procedural obstacles, all amendment stages, all debate time—all of it would be null and void.

The bill would go directly to a final vote.

"This is tyranny!" Parker’s face flushed red as he roared into the microphone. "Mr. Speaker, this is out of order! We need time to review the details! We need hearings! You can’t strip representatives of their right to speak!"

Russo looked at him coldly.

"Representative Parker, according to House Rule 77, a motion to suspend the rules has precedence and is not debatable."

"We will now vote on the motion to suspend the rules."

"Those in favor, press the green button. Those opposed, press the red button."

"Threshold for passage: a two-thirds majority."

Russo’s finger hovered over the gavel.

"Begin."

Inside the chamber, the numbers on the electronic vote board began to jump wildly.

Representative Parker stood in the aisle, frantically gesturing to his colleagues, signaling them to vote ’no’.

"Hold the line! Don’t let them get away with this! This is a matter of due process!"

But no one was looking at him.

The Republican Party representatives in the back rows all had their heads down, their fingers hesitating over the voting devices.

Their phones were still vibrating in their pockets—angry reminders from their constituents.

They remembered Leo Wallace’s "advice" over the phone, and the young challengers who were already campaigning in their districts.

Fear overpowered greed.

Better to go with the flow than to fight to the death for a few political donations.

’Besides, this is just a procedural vote, not a substantive one.’

BEEP.

The first green light lit up from the Republican side.

It was followed by a second, then a third.

Parker watched the vote board in despair.

His colleagues, the ones who usually acted like his brothers-in-arms and swore to defend the free market, were now betraying him en masse.

With their fingers, they pressed the green button that signified compromise.

The numbers finally settled.

Ayes: 145.

Nays: 58.

More than two-thirds.

"The motion carries."

Russo’s voice was cold and merciless.

"The rules are suspended."

"We will now proceed directly to the final vote on Bill HB-709."

"A closed rule will be applied."

"No amendments from the floor will be permitted."

"This is a one-time vote."

Russo raised his gavel, his gaze sweeping across the chamber.

"Members, you may only vote aye or nay."

"There is no middle ground."

"There is no bargaining."

"Begin the vote."