City Hall, third floor, the Mayor’s Office.
Leo pushed open the door. He had just hung his coat on the rack and hadn’t even had a chance to pour himself a glass of water when the phone rang.
Leo glanced at the caller ID.
Washington D.C.
He didn’t even have to guess who it was.
At a ti like this, the only person from Washington who would be calling him was that old man from Vermont.
Leo picked up the receiver.
"Leo!"
Daniel Sanders’s roar was so absurdly loud that Leo didn’t even need to press the receiver to his ear to hear him.
"Have you lost your mind?!"
"I saw it on TV! What did you do in that courtroom? You openly tore up a contract! You turned a franchise agreent approved by the city council into a worthless piece of paper right in front of the judge!"
"This is a declaration of war on all capital! This is undermining the very foundation of business rules!"
"And Murphy! I made myself perfectly clear. To preserve our faction’s strength, to cut our losses, he should have withdrawn from the race gracefully. And what happened? He listened to your poisonous advice and insisted on continuing this damn campaign!"
"Without funding from the Democratic National Committee, without the party’s endorsent, and now even the business community sees you as a rabid dog. What does Murphy have to win a statewide election? What’s he going to fight Warren with?"
"That useless port of yours that still only exists on paper?"
"Or that fickle public opinion of yours that could turn on you at any mont?"
"Have you ever thought about how this makes you look? What will the more moderate donors think? How will they see us Progressives? They’ll think we’re a bunch of bandits with no respect for contracts!"
The sound of a fist slamming on a table ca through the receiver.
"The bigger picture! How many tis have I told you about the bigger picture!"
Sanders was deeply distressed.
"We fought so hard to build a small advantage in Congress, so hard to make the Establishnt Faction even a little wary of us. We need stability. We need to prove that the Progressives can govern, that we’re rational, not just a bunch of madn who do nothing but flip tables."
"But what do you do?"
"You start a riot in Pittsburgh! For the sake of one city’s gains, you’ve sacrificed our entire strategy in Pennsylvania, and even across all the Midwest Swing States!"
"You’ve made everyone think we’re a bunch of unpredictable destroyers!"
Leo listened in silence.
He set the receiver down on his desk, walked over to the water cooler, and poured himself a glass of cold water.
He tilted his head back and drank, the icy liquid flowing into his stomach, suppressing the turmoil churning within him.
Sanders’s anger was understandable.
From the heights of Washington, standing before the chessboard of partisan politics, Leo’s actions were indeed a disaster.
He had broken the unspoken rules, flipped the table, and put every respectable person in an impossible position.
But Leo was standing in Pittsburgh.
Beneath his feet was muddy ground, and behind him were workers crying out for help.
Different perspectives naturally lead to different views of the bigger picture.
Only when the roaring on the other end of the line gradually subsided, replaced by heavy panting, did Leo pick up the receiver again.
"Senator."
Leo’s voice was calm and cold.
"Are you finished?"
"If you don’t have an explanation, then yes, I’m finished," Sanders replied coldly. "I’ve already had Marcus draft a statent. We will condemn this violation of the spirit of contract. We have to cut ties."
"Cut ties?"
Leo let out a short laugh.
"Senator, is your so-called ’bigger picture’ just sending and Murphy to our deaths so that puppet in Philadelphia can take over?"
"Do you think the Establishnt Faction will be grateful if you sacrifice us? That they’ll give the Progressives more seats? That they’ll compromise on your bills?"
"Don’t be naive."
Leo sat back in his chair, leaning back and propping his feet on the edge of his desk.
"You say there’s no victory without the party? That we’re nothing without the support of the Democratic National Committee?"
"You’re wrong."
"Power cos first, then the party."
Leo stared at the chandelier on the ceiling.
"A Senator’s seat belongs to the winner. It doesn’t belong to the chairman of the Democratic National Committee, nor to the White House Chief of Staff."
"If Murphy loses, even if he were to kneel on the steps in Washington, even if he secured every party endorsent, he would still be a loser. The bigwigs wouldn’t give him a second glance. They’d just sweep him into the dustbin of history like a piece of trash."
"But what if he wins?"
"What if, relying on that useless port, relying on us ’rabid dogs,’ he carves a bloody path through the wilds of Pennsylvania, defeats Warren, and takes that seat."
"What will the National Committee do then?"
"They’ll co begging him to return on their knees."
"They’ll deliver the best resources to his office. They’ll praise him as a hero of the party, a champion who reclaid lost territory."
"In this country, the victor is never blad."
"If we win on our own, the party is our ornant. If we win because of the party, then we are the party’s ornant."
"We chose the forr."
The other end of the line fell silent.
The fundantal rule of politics has always been: the victor is crowned king, the vanquished is branded a villain.
This was the pinnacle of realism.
"You..." Sanders’s voice was a bit hoarse. "Do you really think you can win on your own?"
"We can win."
Leo sat up straight, his voice softening slightly.
"Daniel."
Leo had changed how he addressed him.
"Actually... we never left the Progressives."
"Our goals are the sa. We all want to defeat Warren, we all want the workers to live better lives, and we all want to break the monopolies of the oligarchs."
"It’s just that our paths are different."
"I understand the difficult position you’re in." Leo’s tone beca respectful. "You’re in Washington. You have to balance various forces. You can’t publicly support us for this kind of rule-breaking behavior, because that would offend all the donors and lead to a complete break with the Establishnt Faction."
"It would damage your reputation in the Senate."
"We understand, and we accept that."
Leo paused, then threw out the proposal he had prepared long ago.
"So, let’s break with each other publicly."
"You can publicly criticize for not following the rules, you can issue a statent accusing Murphy of being reckless, you can even have Marcus tell the dia we’re radicals who have lost our way."
"It doesn’t matter."
"We don’t need your public support, and we don’t need your funding. Put up that firewall. Isolate us on the outside."
"That way, no matter how much chaos we stir up in Pennsylvania, whether we win or lose, the fire won’t reach you. It won’t implicate your strategy in Washington."
"You’ll be safe."
Leo’s fingers tapped lightly on the desk.
"But, please, give us a chance."
"Please, maintain a tacit silence. Don’t actually turn your guns on us."
"If we lose, you can step over our corpses without any burden and say, ’I warned them.’"
"But if we win..."
"Murphy will still be your most loyal ally in the Senate."
"Pittsburgh will still be the showroom for your ideals."
"We will return to your camp bearing the fruits of victory, with the map of Pennsylvania in hand."
"It’s a deal you can’t lose."
"Zero risk, high reward."
"All you have to do is one thing: curse us a few tis in public, then turn around and pretend you don’t see what we’re doing."
Leo paused, then said, "You know better than I do why Warren’s speech in Scranton hit us so hard. It’s because we’ve been labeled as Washington Progressives."
"As long as we’re wearing that label, we’ll forever be dragged into the mire of identity politics. They’ll attack our culture, attack our positions."
"We need to rip off that label."
"Only through this public break, only by letting the voters see that we’ve been abandoned by Washington, suppressed by our own party, can we completely shake the suspicion that we’re puppets of the Democratic Party."
"Only then can we, as true outsiders, fight for those angry independent voters."
"This is for Pittsburgh, for Murphy’s election, and for your own long-term interests."
"Cutting ties is about letting us perform at our best."
On the other end of the line, Sanders’s grip on the receiver slowly loosened.
He leaned back in his chair, looking out the window at the Washington skyline.
He understood.
It was an extrely mature political proposal.
Through this "fake breakup," Leo not only proactively severed his public ties with Sanders, providing him with perfect political cover, but more importantly, he had found a brand new narrative for Murphy’s campaign.
Sanders didn’t have to take any risks, yet he retained the possibility of reaping the fruits of victory in the future.
This was political speculation elevated to an art form.
Sanders sighed.
"...Alright."
"For the remaining months of the midterm elections, don’t expect a single penny from ."
"And don’t expect to go to Pennsylvania to campaign for you, not even for one event."
"If any reporters ask for my opinion on this, I’ll say I’m very disappointed in you. I’ll say your actions don’t align with the party’s principles."
"And if the Democratic National Committee moves to sanction you, I won’t vote against it."
Leo smiled. He knew Sanders had agreed.
"That’s more than enough, Daniel."
Leo said sincerely.
"As long as you don’t aim your real cannons at us, as long as you don’t personally step in to tear us down."
"We’ll be eternally grateful."
"Go on," Sanders said. "Go fight your war. Just don’t make your defeat too ugly."
BEEP—
The call ended.
Leo put down the receiver, feeling his entire body relax.
He had passed the most dangerous hurdle.
He had preserved his and Murphy’s independence, while also securing his rear flank.
’Brilliant.’
Roosevelt’s voice echoed in his mind, filled with unreserved admiration.
’Leo, you just executed a perfect political severing and reconnection.’
’In politics, allies don’t always have to stand together holding hands.’
’Sotis, attacking and blaming each other for the sake of mutual survival can actually make an alliance stronger.’
’You gave Sanders face, and you gave him substance.’
’You’ve allowed him to protect his position in Washington without any worries, while also preserving the secret line between you two.’
’This is maturity.’
Roosevelt seed to be applauding.
’You’re no longer like a child, crying and screaming for an adult’s approval and protection.’
’You’re starting to learn how to manage your allies.’
’You’re beginning to understand that so-called allies are nothing more than a community built on maximizing mutual interests.’
’As long as the interests remain, a formal split is completely unimportant.’
Leo stood up and walked to the window.
The sun finally broke through the clouds.
"Yes, Mr. President."
Leo watched the golden light.
"Now, we’re truly free."
"Free from the shackles of Washington, free from the constraints of the party."
"We can fight this war on our own terms."
"There’s an idea that’s been in my head for a long ti. Now is the ti to put it into practice."
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