novelnext Chapter 61 Thunder
Chapter 61 Thunder
The Hart Senate Office Building in Washington, D.C.
A continuous, cold rain was falling outside the window, and a gray sky pressed down on the dome of Capitol Hill.
In Daniel Sanders' office, the elderly man sat behind a desk piled high with documents and books, holding a newly printed briefing in his hand.
His senior political advisor, Marcus Reynolds, stood at the table, reporting to Sanders.
"What did Ethan say?" Sanders didn't look up; his gaze remained fixed on the documents in his hands.
"Wallace has stopped all activity," Marcus reported. "He tore up the lawyer's letter Karen had prepared, canceled the press release Sarah had arranged, made no public complaints, and showed no sign of trying to make a big fuss in the media."
"He let the team continue working in the office as if nothing had happened."
Sanders turned a page of the document, a slight smile playing on his lips.
"This kid has a political instinct beyond his years." Sanders took off his glasses and rubbed his nose. "Most young people in this situation would react by jumping up and cursing, or trying to cover up their powerlessness with louder noise. They think it's bravery, but it's just stupidity."
"Wallace understood the situation. He knew this was positional warfare, not a street brawl. When heavy artillery came down, smart soldiers would find cover, protect their own forces, and then wait for the opportunity to counterattack once the artillery fire extended."
Marcus nodded: "He was really calm. Ethan said he was even calming the team down, telling them it was a battle of gods."
"A battle of titans," Sanders repeated the phrase. "A very interesting metaphor. Now that he's put the ball at our feet and been behaving so well, we can't let him down."
The old man stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the Capitol dome in the rain.
To him, a local bureaucrat of Cartwright's caliber was nothing more than a clown.
What truly disgusted him were the Washington establishment who hid behind the scenes, manipulating the rules and trying to nip all uncontrollable factors in the bud.
This action against Pittsburgh was both a test and a warning to the progressives.
If he doesn't do something, the same drama will play out in Ohio, Michigan, and Wisconsin.
"Marcus," Sanders turned, his tone turning icy, "inform our people in the House, tell them it's starting."
……
The following afternoon, in the House of Representatives chamber.
The speaker sat on the high platform, striking the gavel to advance the day's agenda.
Today's core agenda has only one item: voting on the third supplement to the Regional Economic Recovery Act.
This is a key bill drafted by the White House and has received full support from Democratic leaders in both the House and Senate.
The terms plan allocate an additional $5 billion in transportation infrastructure funding to several key swing states, including Pennsylvania and Michigan.
The objective is very clear: to pave the way for next year's midterm elections and use real money to solidify the Democratic Party's precarious electoral prospects in the Rust Belt.
To everyone else, it was just a routine vote.
Republicans will certainly oppose it unanimously, but that doesn't matter. Democrats have enough seats in the House of Representatives; as long as the party is united, the bill will pass.
Voting has begun.
The numbers on the electronic scoreboard began to jump.
The green numbers, representing approval, led the way, while the red numbers, representing disapproval, followed closely behind.
Standing in the aisle, the House Whip, the third-ranking Democrat, Cord Montoya, was casually joking with his colleagues.
Three days before the vote, his team had already confirmed the intentions of all the members of parliament.
There is no problem.
However, an anomaly occurred when there were only two minutes left in the voting period.
The green numbers on the scoreboard suddenly stopped growing, stuck in an awkward position—15 votes short of the 218 votes needed for a majority.
Montoya's smile vanished.
He quickly glanced at the seating area on the left side of the House of Representatives, where a group of members were sitting upright in their chairs, arms crossed, staring blankly ahead.
Those were core members of the progressive party caucus.
They neither pressed the green "Agree" button nor the red "Disagree" button.
They pressed the yellow "Attend" button.
Abstained.
Time passed second by second.
Montoya grabbed the phone and frantically dialed the numbers of the leading members of parliament, but no one answered.
Voting has ended!
With the sound of the speaker's gavel, the scoreboard numbers were frozen.
The bill failed to pass by a narrow margin.
The entire hall erupted in chaos.
The Republican seats erupted in gloating laughter and applause.
They didn't expect the Democratic Party to trip up itself on this issue.
The Democratic Party, on the other hand, was in uproar.
The lawmakers looked at each other, a sense of anger, shock, and confusion spreading through the air.
This was an open betrayal, a sudden and unexpected upheaval.
Montoya stood in the middle of the aisle, the piece of paper he had originally intended to record the voting results in his hand now crumpled into a ball of trash.
He stared at his colleagues who had abstained from voting, his eyes burning with anger.
As a party whip, this was the most direct humiliation of his authority.
……
Half an hour later, in Montoya's office.
This office is located on the ground floor of the Capitol Building, just steps away from the chamber.
At this moment, the office door was tightly closed.
Montoya sat in his leather chair, suppressing the anger in his chest.
Sitting opposite him were Senator Sanders, who had rushed over upon hearing the news, and two progressive members of Congress who had just led the House in abstaining from voting.
"Daniel, what exactly are you trying to do?"
Montoya's voice was very low.
"At this critical juncture, at this crucial moment of the midterm elections, you actually joined forces to kill our own bill? Do you know how embarrassing this will be for the White House? You're handing a knife to the Republicans!"
He slammed his hand on the table, leaned forward, and stared intently at Sanders.
"What problem can't be resolved in a party caucus meeting? Why resort to such an extreme method? I demand an explanation!"
Sanders leaned back on the sofa, looking completely at ease.
"Corder, calm down," Sanders said slowly. "We didn't oppose the bill; we just abstained."
"Does it make any difference? The result is that the bill didn't pass!" Montoya roared.
"We simply believe that this supplemental provision gives too much to large construction contractors and too little to frontline workers' wage protections," Sanders began to explain. "Our voters cannot accept this practice of putting taxpayers' money directly into the pockets of big corporations. As progressives, we must stand by our principles."
Montoya gave a cold laugh.
"Don't give me that, Daniel. We already discussed these details about wage protection last week, and you didn't express such strong opposition then. If it's just about this, you could have proposed an amendment instead of launching this surprise attack."
He'd been in Washington for forty years; he'd seen it all.
This kind of reason might fool the general public, but to think it could fool him, the party whip, is an insult to his intelligence.
"To be honest," Montoya said, staring into Sanders' eyes, "what do you want? A committee chair position? Or to squeeze a specific project into the grant list? Name your price."
Sanders remained silent for a moment.
He knew the time was right.