Chapter 647 - 302: A Future of Forced Submission

The east wing of the Harrisburg State Capitol Building was the domain of the Senate.

Leo Wallace walked down the long corridor.

He held only two thin documents in his hand, totaling no more than twenty pages.

This was a stark contrast to his previous style of hauling out boxes of materials, or even bringing in petitions by the truckload.

At this stage, the thinner the file, the greater its weight.

The double doors at the end of the hallway were shut tight.

The guards at the door saw Leo approaching and instinctively straightened up, their hands resting on their belts.

They recognized the face—the face that had turned the entire state of Pennsylvania upside down over the past week.

Leo didn’t break his stride, pushing the doors open.

The office within was dimly lit.

Heavy velvet curtains were drawn, leaving only an opening that allowed a sliver of pale sunlight to slice across the floor like a knife.

Robert Kaufman sat behind his desk.

He was dressed in a dark gray three-piece suit. In front of him was a steaming cup of black tea, and in his hands, he held that day’s edition of the Wall Street Journal.

Hearing the door open, Kaufman slowly lowered the newspaper.

He looked up, his gaze cold as it passed over the rims of his glasses to fix on the intruder.

"Mayor Wallace."

Kaufman’s voice carried a tone of authority and detachment.

"You don’t have an appointment."

"I think we need to talk, Mr. President."

Leo walked to the chair opposite the desk, pulled it out, and sat down.

The movements were as natural as if he were in his own office.

"Talk about what?"

Kaufman took off his glasses and began meticulously wiping them with a velvet cloth.

"Talk about how you’ve hijacked the House of Representatives with mob rule? About how you’ve deceived contractors across the state with checks that don’t even exist? Or maybe about when you plan to crawl back to Pittsburgh?"

Kaufman put his glasses back on, his eyes turning sharp.

"Young man, you won the House of Representatives. I’ll admit that. You scared the daylights out of those cowards with their two-year terms. They’ll do anything to keep their jobs."

Kaufman folded his hands on the desktop.

"But this is the Senate."

"Our terms are four years long. That means half the people sitting here won’t have to face the voters’ judgment for another two years. Your intimidation tactics are useless against us. We don’t need to pander to the mob shouting in the streets."

"We are accountable only to the Constitution and to common sense."

Kaufman’s voice rose slightly.

"Your little trick of creating a fait accompli won’t work here. The Senate is Pennsylvania’s seawall, and we will block this muddy flood you’ve unleashed."

Leo listened quietly.

He watched Kaufman, knowing the old man was bluffing.

If the Senate were truly that solid, Kaufman wouldn’t have been hiding in his office refusing visitors.

"Mr. President."

Leo spoke.

"You’re right. The Senate does have the protection of longer terms, and you can indeed ignore the voices outside."

He pointed to the telephone on Kaufman’s desk. "But can you ignore that telephone?"

"Over the past week, I’m sure that phone has been ringing off the hook."

"The bankers from Pittsburgh, the steel mill owners from Erie, the contractors from Scranton, and all those tycoons and oligarchs who’ve donated to your campaign fund."

A cold smirk touched the corners of Leo’s mouth.

"They’re all asking the same question: When will the bill pass?"

"Because they’ve already invested their money. They’ve already hired people and started the work. If the bill gets stuck with you, their investments will become bad debt."

"You’re not afraid of the voters, but you are afraid of your donors."

"If you make every capitalist in the state lose money, I don’t think you’ll be able to hold onto your position for much longer."

A muscle in Kaufman’s cheek twitched.

Leo had struck a nerve.

This was the very thing that had been giving Kaufman the biggest headache for days.

That ten-billion-dollar infrastructure plan was a massive lure, and even the Republican Party’s base—the contractors and energy companies—had taken the bait.

If he forced a veto, he wouldn’t just be offending the Democratic Party; he’d be offending the entire business community of Pennsylvania.

Kaufman took a deep breath.

He knew he had to compromise.

’Politics is a transaction.’

"Fine."

Kaufman nodded, his tone softening slightly.

"Since you’ve put it all on the table, let’s not beat around the bush."

"I can let it go through."

Kaufman held up one finger.

"That ten-billion-dollar Comprehensive Infrastructure Bill—I can let it pass. I’ll instruct the Appropriations Committee to complete its review as soon as possible and then schedule a floor vote."

"I know this money will be good for the state’s economy, and many of my friends stand to benefit from it. For the greater good, I can tolerate your irregular tactics."

Kaufman’s tone shifted abruptly, his eyes growing fierce. "But there is a condition."

"Your other bill, that damned Medicine Benefits Transparency and Fairness Bill."

"It must die."

Kaufman slammed his palm down on the desk.

"That’s the bottom line."

"I will not let that bill out of the Health Committee’s doors. I will not allow you to conduct this kind of market-disrupting socialist experiment in Pennsylvania."

"Insurance companies and pharmaceutical firms are one of the cornerstones of this country’s economy. If you force price controls, force audits, you’ll destroy the entire industry."

"I can give you the infrastructure money. Let you go back and fix the roads, let you go back and answer to your voters."

"But you must abandon that insane medical mutual aid plan."

"This is the deal."