"You’re the Mayor of Pittsburgh. Every pothole, every hazard listed on these notices is real. You’ve dug them up and laid them on the table."

"This means that whether Moretti approves the money or not, as the city’s chief executive, you will ultimately have to solve this problem. You have to fill these potholes, no matter what."

"Pittsburgh’s finances are already paper-thin. What happens if the city treasury is completely drained to fix these thousands upon thousands of damn potholes and to deal with the exorbitant lawsuits that could pop up at any moment?"

"Once the city declares bankruptcy, its municipal bond rating will plummet, police will go on strike over unpaid wages, and garbage will pile up in the streets."

"When that happens, Moretti can just wash his hands of it and claim he was protecting the taxpayers’ money. But you, Leo Wallace, you’ll be the one who exposed the wound but couldn’t heal it—the man who ultimately brought Pittsburgh to ruin."

"You’re digging a hole for yourself, and you’ve buried enough dynamite at the bottom to blow up the entire city hall."

Faced with Murphy’s accusations, Leo didn’t argue, offer a defense, or even shift his posture in the slightest.

He simply watched the anxious Murphy, watching this veteran politician, steeped for years in the ways of Washington, lose his composure over the fear of the potential fallout.

Then, the corners of Leo’s mouth quirked upward into a smile that Murphy found completely baffling.

"Please, have a seat, Congressman."

Leo gestured to the chair across from him.

"Who said I was going to fix them all immediately?"

Murphy froze. He had just lowered himself to the edge of the sofa, but he shot right back up.

"What do you mean? You’re the one who asked the citizens to submit these notices, and you’re the one who confirmed they were safety hazards. According to Pennsylvania law, once the government receives official notification, it must take measures to eliminate the hazard within a reasonable time. If you don’t make the repairs, that’s dereliction of duty. That’s government negligence."

"That’s right, that’s what the law stipulates."

Leo nodded. He opened a drawer and pulled out a draft of an executive order he’d already prepared.

"Reasonable time."

Leo repeated the phrase.

"It’s a very interesting legal term. What constitutes a ’reasonable time’? One day? One month? A year?"

"The law doesn’t specify a concrete number of days."

"The law only stipulates that the government must make reasonable arrangements according to its own administrative resources and financial condition."

Leo handed the document to Murphy.

"This is a draft of an executive order I’ve prepared."

"’A Resolution Regarding the Establishment of the Pittsburgh City Public Infrastructure Prioritized Maintenance and Scheduling Management System.’"

Murphy took the document and quickly scanned its contents.

"The moment Moretti decides to compromise, I’ll sign this executive order."

"I will order the Department of Public Works to officially log every repair request we receive and assign each one a unique tracking number."

"We will systematically rate and prioritize these requests based on the severity of the hazard, the density of foot traffic in the area, and the complexity of the required work."

Leo pointed to a densely-packed chart in the document’s appendix.

"Look here."

"For the most dangerous hazards, like a broken guardrail in front of a school, we’ll classify them as Priority One and repair them first."

"For less critical issues, like cracks in the sidewalk, we’ll classify them as Priority Two and schedule them for the next fiscal quarter."

"And as for the more trivial things, like rust on a lamppost or a small pothole on some remote road..."

Leo’s finger swept across the bottom of the chart.

"We’ll file those under the long-term maintenance plan."

"The repairs might be scheduled for a few years from now, or even longer."

Murphy’s brow furrowed.

"Scheduled for years from now? Leo, that will destroy your public image. They’ll think you’re just making empty promises, that you’re just brushing them off."

"I know that, of course." Leo pulled the document back. "Which is why I won’t be the one to announce this executive order."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it, John. If Moretti is finally forced to compromise under immense legal and public pressure—forced to agree to negotiate the budget—what do you think will happen?"

"To save face, and to prove to the world that the City Council still has authority, he’ll absolutely insist on making changes to my original proposal."

"He’ll say, ’Mr. Mayor’s plan is too radical; the city can’t afford it. We must come up with a more pragmatic and sustainable solution.’"

"And at that moment," a small smile touched Leo’s lips, "I will reluctantly accept his suggestions and praise his foresight."

"Then, this scheduling plan will be put forward as an amendment from the City Council."

"The one announcing this plan to the public won’t be me, Leo Wallace. It will be the Speaker of the Council, Thomas Moretti."

"He’ll be the one who, in order to avoid municipal bankruptcy, ’responsibly’ pushed the repair schedule back by several years."

"And I’ll just be the idealist who wanted to fix all the roads as soon as possible, consequences be damned."

"You see, John, no matter which path he chooses, I can’t lose."

"If he compromises, I get the money and he takes the blame for the delays."

"And if he doesn’t compromise," Leo’s gaze turned cold, "then I’ll have no choice but to use the full extent of the Mayor’s executive authority to force spending on repairs, even if it means doubling the city’s backlog of maintenance projects in a single quarter."

"And when that happens, if Pittsburgh’s finances really do collapse, it won’t be my fault."