Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt

Chapter 405: Chapter 189: The Shadow of Prosperity

Pittsburgh City Hall, second-floor conference room.

It was a special day: Christmas Day.

But this room had no Christmas tree, no colorful lights, and no joyful laughter from exchanging gifts.

On the long table in the center of the conference room, documents were stacked as high as a fortress wall.

Ethan sat at one end of the table, his tie loosened and hanging around his neck. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing veins bulging on his forearms.

His eyes were glued to the three monitors in front of him, a red pen in his hand as he constantly marked up the paper documents.

Across from him, Marcus Thorne sat cross-legged in a swivel chair.

His sticker-covered laptop rested on his knees, his fingers flying across the keyboard at an astonishing speed.

Besides the two of them, there were five or six other young people in the room—the first recipients of the "Pittsburgh Future Leaders Scholarship."

A few veteran City Hall employees were also nearby, watching this group of young people, who seemed to be running on adrenaline, with expressions of awe.

A young woman majoring in law was poring over the Pennsylvania Comprehensive Code, while another student from the finance department helped Marcus with data cleaning, organizing raw data from different cities into a format ready for analysis.

They were excited, even a little fanatical.

The chance to personally participate in drafting a two-billion-US-Dollar federal bill was, for these students who hadn’t even graduated, like letting a kid who just learned to drive a go-kart get behind the wheel of an F1 race car.

"Something’s wrong here."

Marcus suddenly spoke up.

"Ethan, look at page 402, the section on the adjustment coefficient."

"According to the current model, if we factor in the steel transportation costs from Erie, the cash flow return rate will fall below the Federation Auditing Bureau’s baseline."

Ethan cursed, grabbing the calculator at his side to rerun the numbers.

"Damn it, you’re right."

Ethan rubbed his bloodshot eyes.

"We have to redo the entire risk assessment module. We’ll need to factor in the interest income from the reserve fund pool to cover these costs."

This was their Christmas.

The text of the "National Strategic Supply Chain Resilience and Regional Industrial Upgrade Act" was mostly finalized. But before those two billion US Dollars could truly be sent to Capitol Hill, Leo’s team had to clear a technical hurdle first.

The Congressional Budget Office.

Ostensibly, this agency was non-partisan, composed of top-tier bureaucrats with degrees in economics or public policy.

Their sole duty was to calculate the impact of every bill on the Federation deficit over the next ten years.

The Congressional Budget Office’s conclusions came in only two forms: a red score or a green score.

If the Congressional Budget Office’s analysis showed that the bill would cause a net increase to the Federation deficit over the next decade, the report would be labeled with a "red score."

In the Senate, any normal bill that would increase the deficit could be obstructed by a filibuster.

The opposition party could use this procedural rule to take turns at the rostrum, reading from phone books to indefinitely delay the vote until the bill’s sponsors gave up.

To end such a tactic, the consent of sixty Senators was required.

With the Democratic Party currently holding only a slim majority, getting sixty votes would require Leo and Murphy to make significant compromises with the Republican Party.

But if the Congressional Budget Office determined the bill to be "budget-neutral," or even capable of reducing the deficit through future tax revenue growth, the bill would receive a "green score."

According to the United States’ Budget Reform Act of 1974, any specific bill involving the budget, taxes, and the debt limit could initiate a process known as "budget reconciliation."

Under this process, the bill would be exempt from filibusters. It would no longer need sixty votes, but only a simple majority—fifty-one votes—to pass.

In a closely divided Senate, that nine-vote difference was the difference between heaven and hell.

The job of everyone in this office now was to take this bill, which looked like a wild spending spree, and transform it into a fiscal miracle that could earn a "green score" through sophisticated financial modeling and artful phrasing.

Leo walked into the conference room carrying several huge takeout boxes.

The aroma of steaming hot pizza instantly cut through the suffocating tension in the room.

"Time for a break."

Leo forcibly cleared a space on the table and set down the pizzas.

"It’s our Christmas feast, even if it’s just Italian sausage and double cheese."

Ethan looked up at the wall clock.

Four in the afternoon.

"We don’t have time for a feast, boss," Ethan said. "The deadline is too tight."

"You can’t think on an empty stomach."

Leo clapped Ethan on the shoulder and handed a can of cola to Marcus.

"Those five hundred million US Dollars aren’t going anywhere."

Marcus took the cola.

"Remember the framework we established," Leo reminded them. "The core is patriotism and national security. We need to make everyone who reviews this document believe that investing in Pittsburgh is like buying insurance for the future of the United States."

"Also, don’t forget to slice up the pie."

"Marcus, I need you to calculate the price tag for those few swing senators."

"We need to make them feel like they’re getting a great deal, but without making it look like a session for dividing the spoils to the public."

"Frame these payoffs as necessary costs for regional collaborative development."

Leo looked at the two men to whom he had entrusted this great responsibility, his eyes full of trust.