HPDBC Chapter 167 Dog Chain
Chapter 167 Dog Chain
Chapter 167 Dog Chain
The Senate Office Building in Washington, D.C.
Russell Warren was sitting behind his desk, holding a pen above a document.
"Boss, Ron Smith has been trying to contact you."
Chief of Staff David Kingsley stood at the table and reported in a low voice.
"He said the previous incident was a misunderstanding, and that he was forced to work with that Pittsburgh kid for the sake of his job at Ely. He wants to come to Washington to explain to you in person."
Warren put down his pen and signed his name on the document.
"No."
Warren closed the file and tossed it aside.
Tell Ron I'm busy.
He looked up, and the light shining through his thick glasses made him appear extremely cold.
"That's my money," Warren said, pointing to the document. "That's my constituency too."
"Ron, and that Joe Byers from Scranton, they seem to have forgotten this; they think they can have their cake and eat it too as long as I don't say a word."
"They think they can take my federal funding, campaign for that Democratic mayor, and get away with it."
Warren snorted through his nose.
"They were testing my limits, trying to see if this dog leash was really around their necks."
"Since they find the Pittsburgh partnership so appealing, and since they believe that the Industrial Revitalization Alliance can save their lives."
"Then let them go and make their money in Pittsburgh."
"Turn off the tap."
"I want them to know who truly controls the water resources in this state."
Erie, Pennsylvania.
Mayor Ron Smith was sitting in his office, calculating how much he could settle with Pittsburgh for the project this week, when his secretary rushed in, pale-faced.
"Mayor! Something's happened!"
The secretary placed two documents on the table.
The first one comes from the Federal Department of Transportation.
Notice on the suspension of special funding for dredging of the Erie Port channel.
The reason given was presented in a grand and respectable manner: Given recent changes in Lake Erie's water level and updates to the environmental assessment report, it is necessary to adjust the originally planned 12 million US dollars—
The Yuan dredging project is undergoing a new compliance review. Funding is frozen effective immediately until the review is completed.
The second report came from the Federal Environmental Protection Agency.
Letter regarding the temporary suspension of disbursement of the soil remediation fund for the Yili City Heavy Industrial Zone.
The reason is more direct: budget reassessment.
Ron Smith stared at the two documents on the table.
A special fund of $12 million for port dredging, plus a soil remediation fund of $8 million.
A total of twenty million US dollars.
Ron Smith knew exactly where the two documents came from.
This is a game of strategy, and also a test.
He knew from the beginning that using Pittsburgh orders to feed local factories while simultaneously trying to continue receiving funding from Washington to keep the government running was a dangerous gamble.
He anticipated that Warren would react.
According to conventional political logic, Warren would likely send a message through an intermediary or stall him on some insignificant minor project as a warning.
That's knocking.
It means that the big boss still cares about you and still considers you one of his own, but just wants you to be careful.
But now, Warren has directly cut off the $20 million in funding.
That was too heavy-handed.
This ruthless approach can only mean one thing: Russell Warren is extremely anxious right now.
Murphy's statewide speaking tour and Leo's industrial revitalization alliance in Pittsburgh really hit Warren where it hurt.
Only those who are driven to desperation will disregard party relations and directly take drastic measures against the party's own grassroots mayors.
The phone on the table rang.
Smith answered the phone.
"Ron, it's Joe."
The voice of Scranton Mayor Joe Byers came through the receiver.
"My highway maintenance subsidies have been cut off, eight million dollars. The contractor just stormed into my office and said they'd drive a bulldozer into my house if I didn't pay."
“Me too,” Smith said calmly. “The EPA and the Department of Transportation both sent me letters, citing a budget reassessment as the reason.”
"That old bastard's gone mad," Byers cursed. "He's trying to kill us. Ron, what should we do? If we quit the league now and apologize to Warren, will we be able to get our money back?"
Don't even think about it.
Smith coldly interrupted him.
"Joe, use your brain. Warren has already taken action; he's establishing his authority."
"If we kneel down now, he won't immediately restore funding; instead, he'll think we're weak and easily bullied. He'll use us as a negative example, hanging us on the wall as a warning to others who might waver."
"Moreover, once we withdraw from the alliance, the orders from Pittsburgh will immediately cease."
"That's the real disaster."
Biles was silent for a moment on the other end of the phone, seemingly still weighing his options.
Smith continued.
"Have you thought this through, Joe? Which is more important, the funding from Washington or the order from Pittsburgh?"
"The money in Washington goes to the government; it's used to build roads, pay pensions, and keep City Hall running."
"If this money is lost, our performance record will indeed look bad. There will be potholes in the roads, pensions may be delayed, and civil servants will complain about not having coffee, but that's just a matter of performance record."
"Those elderly people who can't receive their pensions, those citizens who complain about the road conditions, although they may curse us, are mostly beneficiaries of the system, or middle-class people who are used to complaining. They have a way out and savings."
Smith paused for a moment.
"But the orders from Pittsburgh are different."
"That money was for the factory, for the workers."
"Those cement plants and steel mills are the economic lifeline of our city and the only source of income for countless low-income families."
"If we lose the Pittsburgh orders, the factory will shut down, and workers will lose their jobs. Thousands of families will go hungry, children will not be able to afford school, and patients will not be able to afford medicine."
"They won't reason with you, and they won't listen to your explanations."
"You gave them hope, told them the factory was back in operation and there was hope for the future, and now you're going to extinguish that hope with your own hands?"
"That kind of anger that follows despair will erupt like a volcano."
"They will riot."
"They will burn down the city hall, drag us out of our offices, and even smash up our homes."
"Joe, you need to understand one thing."
Smith tapped his fingers lightly on the table.
"Even if the factory has to shut down, even if wages have to be cut off, this order must never come out of our mouths."
"If you, Joe Byers, were to walk out of your office today and say to those cement-covered drivers, 'Sorry, to appease Senator Warren and to save the city's road repair subsidies, I've decided to sacrifice your orders,' do you think would happen?"
"They will tear you to pieces."
"Because you betrayed them, you ruined their livelihood for the sake of your own official position."
"When faced with two evils, choose the lesser one."
Biles let out a long sigh on the other end of the line, his voice filled with helplessness.
"You're right, Ron."
"But with Warren at our throats, we can't hold out much longer. If the pensions don't come out, those old guys will take our lives too."
"Therefore, we can't shoulder this burden ourselves."
Smith's eyes sharpened.
"This fire was started by Leo Wallace. He pulled us onto the chariot, and now that the chariot has been blocked, he has to clear the way."
"Let's go find him."
"We need to make him understand that if we fall, his alliance will fall apart."
"He has $500 million in his hands, and Sanders is backing him."
"Since Warren isn't making things easy for us, let Leo have his headaches."
"Call him," Smith decided. "Tell him his ally is about to be killed. Ask him if he's prepared to watch us die, or if he's prepared to offer real money to save us."
"Okay," Byers agreed, "I'll start now."
On a highway in Pennsylvania.
Hundreds of heavy trucks, loaded with steel, cement, and glass, are speeding along the interstate highway, acting like a flowing blood vessel to keep the massive Pittsburgh construction site running.
This is the source of Leo's confidence.
As long as supplies are still flowing and factories are still operating, he can maintain this alliance.
However, just as the convoy was about to enter the Allegheny district, the headlights of the cars ahead suddenly became denser.
Traffic came to a standstill.
The lead truck driver picked up the walkie-talkie, his voice filled with confusion.
"What's going on up ahead? Is there a traffic jam? Why isn't it moving at all?"
"It's not a traffic jam."
The driver's voice came through the walkie-talkie.
-
"They're police."
"State police."
On the vital artery of the highway, red and blue police lights flashed like a sea.
These are fully armed special police officers, a search team with police dogs.
A huge electronic sign displays a scrolling red warning: "Anti-terrorism and Contraband Special Checkpoint—All vehicles must undergo inspection."
This is a state-wide lockdown.
A state troop commander stood in the middle of the road, holding a baton, and expressionlessly stopped a heavy truck loaded with steel.
"Turn off the engine, get out of the car, and show all your documents."
The commander said coldly.
"Officer, we're delivering goods to Pittsburgh, all the paperwork is in order—" the driver tried to explain.
"I didn't ask you where you were going, I just told you to get off the bus."
The commander interrupted him, his hand resting on his holster.
"We received intelligence that terrorists were using freight vehicles to transport contraband. For national security, every vehicle and every box must be thoroughly searched."
"Every single one?" The driver looked at the convoy stretching for kilometers behind him. "How long will it take to find them?"
"We'll continue searching until we confirm it's safe."
The commander waved his hand.
Several police officers came up with police dogs and began circling the truck.
Some people were using devices that looked like mine detectors to scan the steel piles bit by bit.
This speed of inspection means that the convoy won't be able to move an inch for the next several dozen hours.
That's Warren's method.
Unlike Monroe, he doesn't need to find excuses or worry about legal risks.
He directly used his decades-long influence within the Pennsylvania Republican Party.
The state police chief is a Republican, and the director of the state homeland security office is a former subordinate of Warren.
If Warren were to say "national security," the entire highway could instantly become an impenetrable fortress.
Meanwhile, in Harrisburg, Aston Monroe was sitting in his office, looking at the report on setting up checkpoints.
He smiled.
He did not stop it; in fact, he hinted to his men to cooperate.
Although Warren is a Republican, this is a move against a Democratic mayor.
But for Monroe, as long as he can kill Leo and ruin Murphy's reputation, it doesn't matter whose knife he uses.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend for now.
Pittsburgh, South Inland Port construction site.
The massive tower crane stood still in mid-air, its steel cables swaying in the wind.
Just a few hours ago, this place was bustling with activity, but now it has fallen into an unsettling silence.
The steel convoy, which was supposed to arrive two hours ago, is nowhere to be seen.
Dozens of welders sat on the scaffolding, holding welding guns, but had no work to do.
The concrete mixing plant's machines had stopped, and the workers were gathered together playing cards, but no one was paying attention to the cards; their eyes kept drifting towards the construction site gate.
Anxiety permeated the air.
"What's going on? Why haven't the materials arrived yet?"
"I heard they set up roadblocks on the road and the state police impounded all the cars."
"So how are we going to get paid today? We won't get paid if we stop working."
-
"Damn it, this job is so frustrating, something always goes wrong."
The workers began to complain, and unrest was brewing.
City Hall, Mayor's Office.
Leo stood in front of his desk, where several telephones were ringing simultaneously, one after another.
Ethan, sweating profusely, answered a phone call, and after listening for a couple of sentences, his expression changed.
"The mayor is Ron Smith of Erie."
Ethan covered the microphone, his voice urgent.
"He said retired workers stormed into city hall, smashed his office, stopped federal funding, couldn't pay his pension, and he was finished."
He said it was all your fault, that you tricked him into this mess.
Before Leo could answer, another phone rang.
“It’s Joe from Scranton,” Sarah picked up the other phone. “He said his highway subsidies were canceled and the contractor is suing the city. He asked if you could give him an advance on next month’s payment so he can fill the hole.”
"And Johnston, and Altuna—"
All the allies are wailing.
Warren is making an example of someone.
He used these mayors as sacrifices, killing them one by one in front of Leo, just to tell Leo and everyone else.
In Pennsylvania, who is the real master?
Leo answered the phone from Eli.
"Ron."
"Leo! You have to save me!" Ron Smith's voice was hoarse. "Warren is trying to kill me! That damn environmental review, that damn budget assessment, it's all an excuse! He just wants to kill me!"
"We're in the same boat, Leo! You can't just stand by and watch us die!"
"Calm down, Ron."
Leo tried to keep his voice steady.
"I'll figure something out with the federal government—"
"Think of a way? What way?" Smith roared. "That's Senator Warren—"
"beep-
—
Smith's call was cut off before he could finish speaking.
It could be a signal interruption, or Smith could have been overwhelmed by the crowd rushing into the office.
Leo put down the receiver.
Ethan and Sarah looked at Leo with helpless expressions in their eyes.
"Mayor, we have to do something," Ethan said urgently. "Ron Smith said if he doesn't get paid by tomorrow morning, he'll bring Erie's workers to Pittsburgh for a march. Joe Byers is in an even worse situation; contractors are already blocking his doorstep."
“And that checkpoint,” Sarah added. “The state troopers have blocked the roads, so supplies can’t get in, and construction in the South Side has stopped. Every hour we’re off, we’re burning through cash. The workers are really upset; Frank just texted me saying he’s about to lose control.”
An atmosphere of anxiety permeated the air.
Funds are frozen, logistics are cut off, allies are turning against them, and their core base is crumbling.
However, Leo Wallace, sitting behind his desk, appeared unusually calm.
He even had the leisure to pick up his coffee cup and gently blow away the rising steam.
"What should we do?" Ethan asked.
Leo put down his coffee cup.
"Wait a little longer."
Ethan's eyes widened, thinking he had misheard.
"Wait? Wait until what? Until Smith announces his withdrawal from the alliance? Until those truck drivers take their goods back? Until our construction site becomes a complete abandoned project?"
"Wait until they can't stand the pain anymore."
Leo leaned back in his chair, his fingers interlaced in front of him.
"Ethan, Sarah, haven't you figured it out yet?"
"All of this was expected."
Leo's voice was calm and even, without the slightest ripple.
"When we decided to bypass Harrisburg and go through the Industrial Regeneration Alliance, we were already standing on the edge of a cliff."
"I anticipated Warren's counterattack and the state police's blockade."
"It would be strange if they didn't react at all."
"Don't let them scare you."
"These old guys are best at acting, especially acting as victims."
Leo said, "Think back carefully to the background noise in the phone call just now, that perfectly timed sound of breaking glass, that perfectly rhythmic roar."
Leo looked at Ethan and Sarah with a mocking expression.
"Do you really believe Smith would call me from an office being stormed by thugs? If it were me, I would have run out the back door by now."
"I have reason to suspect that it might just be a riot sound effect playing on his computer, or even that he arranged for a few loud-voiced secretaries to bang on the table."
"This is a negotiation tactic; they're trying to create a sense of urgency and pressure me to hand over the money immediately."
Ethan didn't relax despite Leo's reassurance; the screen of his tablet was lit up, displaying the latest intelligence summary.
“I hope this is just an act, Leo,” Ethan pushed up his glasses, his tone heavy. “But I just confirmed with our informant in Harrisburg that the documents from the Department of Transportation and the Environmental Protection Agency are authentic. The executive orders against Erie and Scranton are in the system, and their dedicated accounts have indeed turned gray.”
"Smith didn't lie; at least he was honest about the funds being frozen."
“I didn’t say he lied about the money,” Leo said. “I questioned their descriptions of the pain.”
"They were indeed investigated, and their accounts were indeed frozen, but is it really come to this? I don't think so."
"They will deliberately exaggerate the pain, describing a scrape as an amputation, and a cold as pneumonia. Only in this way can they justifiably demand that I use that $500 million to pay for their suffering."
"If we panic now, if we wire the money now, we'll be at their mercy, and our system will never be able to be implemented."
"Then what do we do?" Sarah asked, her voice still trembling with unease. "If they really can't hold on, or if they really side with Warren, our alliance is finished."
"Be patient. We need to wait until they really start bleeding, and until Warren starts bleeding too."
Leo gave an answer that surprised both of them.
"You only see us bleeding, you see our projects being delayed, and you see our allies wailing."
"But you've forgotten that war is a two-way drain."
"Who is Warren offending by freezing federal funding? He is offending the voters in those cities, and the contractors who are waiting for road repairs. These people might have been Republican supporters, and now their own people have ripped out their wallets."
"State police are setting up roadblocks on the highways, burning through the state government's budget every minute. Every blocked car has an angry voter in it. The logistics association's phone lines must be ringing off the hook with complaints right now."
"Warren is using his political capital and the Republican base to wage this war of attrition against me."
Leo's eyes were sharp.
"Now it's a test of endurance."
"Let's see if we collapse first due to lack of supplies, or if they retreat first due to public discontent and high costs."
"I have hundreds of millions of dollars in cash on hand, and I have the backing of the recovering Pittsburgh economy. I can afford to wait."
"I'd really like to know about that high and mighty senator."
"Do they also have hundreds of millions of dollars in spare cash, enough to keep playing this game called blockade with me?"
"Hopefully their health bars are thicker than I thought."