adbindia Chapter 308 - 151: Who is Opposing "Made in America"?
Chapter 308 - 151: Who is Opposing "Made in America"?
Leo stood by the roadside, the image of the mother pushing the wheelchair replaying in his mind.
"Get in, Leo."
At some point, Ethan had already gotten into the passenger seat. He rolled down the window.
Leo pulled open the back door and got in.
"I’ve looked into it." Ethan spoke rapidly without turning his head. "Regarding the State Auditing Bureau’s preventative freeze, we can file a complaint citing the abuse of power clause in the Administrative Procedure Act."
"It’ll be difficult, but if we can prove their audit lacks a substantive basis or has clear political motivations, the court might issue a temporary restraining order to unfreeze some of the funds."
"I’ve already drafted a preliminary version. As soon as you sign it, we can submit it to the State Court first thing tomorrow morning. At the same time, we can contact the Union in Erie and have them join as co-plaintiffs to add weight to the lawsuit..."
"Don’t bother."
Leo said slowly.
Ethan froze, turning to look at Leo in the back seat. "What?"
"I said, don’t bother."
Leo’s voice was calm, but it carried a disquieting chill.
"Put that scrap paper away."
"Right now, the law is just scrap paper."
Leo leaned back against the seat, his gaze fixed on the streetscape blurring past the window.
"You want to sue Monroe? You want to play procedural games with the State Government? That’s their home turf. The judges in Harrisburg were appointed by them. The rules for the Auditing Bureau were written by them."
"Then what do we do?" Ethan grew anxious. "The factory in Erie has already shut down. That kid can’t even afford painkillers! If we don’t get the funds unfrozen, this kind of tragedy will happen again!"
"Of course we’re going to unfreeze the funds. But we won’t be using the law."
"Then what will we use? Our fists?" Ethan retorted.
"Ethan, I’ve realized I made a mistake."
Leo ignored Ethan’s unfunny joke.
"Ever since I became Mayor and sat in that office, I’ve gotten used to solving problems with documents, procedures, and laws."
"Like a true bureaucrat, I’ve been trying to find a way out within all that red tape."
"But I forgot how I got here."
"I forgot that I hold the sharpest of swords in my hand."
"A sword that can bypass all administrative barriers and pierce the enemy’s heart directly."
"What is it?"
"The Pittsburgh Heart."
Leo leaned forward, staring into Ethan’s eyes.
"We’re going to tell everyone."
"That Aston Monroe, the high and mighty Vice Governor, is obstructing ’Made in America’."
Ethan’s pupils contracted sharply.
He understood Leo’s intention in an instant.
In Pennsylvania, in the heart of the Rust Belt, those three words—"Made in America"—were more than just an economic term.
It was a religion, a totem.
It was the last remaining pride and dignity of this land.
Here, if you were corrupt, the voters might forgive you. If you had an affair, the voters might be lenient.
But if you stood against "Made in America," if you were branded as an "obstacle to industrial revival"...
That was a political death sentence.
Even if you were an angel sent by God, you would be torn to shreds by furious voters.
"We need to redefine this conflict."
Leo’s voice reached Ethan’s ears.
"We want to buy steel that we produce ourselves, but the bureaucrats in Harrisburg are trying to force us to buy foreign goods."
"We want to pay our own workers, but the elites in Philadelphia want to send that money to importers on Wall Street."
"We’re going to pin a label on Monroe that he can never take off."
"And make him the public enemy of all of Pennsylvania."
...
「That night, at Pittsburgh City Hall.」
Leo and Sarah locked themselves in the editing room.
On the screen, footage already filled the timeline.
This was real footage, shot on-site by their brothers in Erie, Scranton, and Johnston, mobilized by Frank using his statewide Union network.
The screen lit up.
The first video was from Erie.
The image shook violently, the cameraperson’s hand seemingly trembling. In the background, there was only the sound of wind howling through the empty factory.
This was the inside of the United Steel Factory, where just yesterday, the blast furnace had been belching tongues of fire.
The massive flywheel was motionless. On the conveyor belt, the slag from the last batch of iron ore, which hadn’t been transported in time, still remained.
The camera pushed in, focusing on the finished goods warehouse.
There, H-beams were piled up like small mountains.
They were new and sturdy, their sides spray-painted with proud, black letters: MADE IN ERIE.
But this shipment of steel, which should have been on its way to Pittsburgh to become bridges and the skeletons of skyscrapers, was covered in glaring white seals.
"Sealed by the Pennsylvania State Auditing Bureau."
The scene changed.
A cement plant parking lot in Scranton.
Dozens of heavy-duty cement mixers were lined up in a long row, but there were no drivers in the cabs.
The camera panned to the side of the road.
A group of men in work clothes squatted on the curb, a mess of cigarette butts at their feet.
They stared blankly at the closed factory gate, clutching expired delivery orders in their hands.
Another cut.
The camera entered a working-class neighborhood.
The cameraperson walked into a family’s kitchen.
On the dining table, a single red slip of paper was pinned under an empty milk bottle.
It was a power shut-off notice from the electric company.
Beside it lay a crumpled pay stub. The number on it was zero.
In the background, a man in a worn-out jacket sat on the sofa, his head in his hands, motionless.
This was Pennsylvania now.
This was the world after Harrisburg’s "compliance audit" had pressed the pause button.