Roosevelt fell silent.
An organizational chart of the Pittsburgh City Government materialized in Leo's mind.
It was an incredibly complex network, a dense, tangled web of dozens of departments and committees, large and small.
"Now, let's analyze this map."
Roosevelt's voice was perfectly calm, which helped Leo, who was overwhelmed by the sheer complexity of the chart, to compose himself.
"The Department of Finance, the Police Department, the City Planning Commission—these are the core pillars of Mayor Carter Wright's power structure. They are his means of controlling the city's purse strings, its guns, and its land deeds. He won't give you a single one of these core departments. Don't even dream of it."
Leo's gaze swept over the names of the departments.
"What about the non-essential departments? Like the Parks Department, or the Public Library Committee?"
"Those positions may seem nice, but they're purely ceremonial—no real power whatsoever," Roosevelt immediately shot down. "Putting you there would be like putting you in a gilded cage. You'd spend your days attending ribbon-cutting ceremonies and community book readings, slowly turning into a harmless mascot under the flash of media cameras."
"What we're looking for is a place they've completely ignored, one they believe is worthless, yet holds the potential for us to create gold."
Roosevelt's consciousness guided Leo's gaze, moving it swiftly across the complex organizational chart.
Finally, his gaze locked onto a name in an obscure corner, at the very edge of the chart.
The Pittsburgh "City Revitalization Committee."
"What's this?" Leo asked. The name was completely unfamiliar to him.
"A zombie institution, forgotten by all," Roosevelt replied.
He began to tell Leo about the committee's history.
The committee was established in the 1980s, when Pittsburgh's steel industry collapsed and the city fell into a severe recession.
Its original purpose was to plan and coordinate reconstruction projects across the city, revitalizing communities that had fallen into decay after factory closures.
In its early days, it wielded significant power and had a substantial budget.
But over time, as Pittsburgh's economy transformed, the committee was gradually pushed to the margins.
The new economic engines were healthcare and education, and the new focus of development shifted to downtown and University City.
The old Rust Belt communities had long been forgotten by the city's planners.
The City Revitalization Committee had thus become a retirement-home department that existed in name only.
Nominally, it was still in charge of planning the city's redevelopment projects. In reality, because the city government no longer allocated it any funds, it had neither money nor real power.
Most of the committee's twelve seats had been vacant for years.
The entire committee was now down to a few employees on the verge of retirement who spent their days in the office drinking coffee and reading newspapers, just enough to keep the lights on.
"A zombie institution?" Leo sounded disappointed. "What would we do with a place like that? We wouldn't be able to accomplish anything there."
"Quite the opposite, my boy," Roosevelt's voice held a hint of excitement. "That is precisely its greatest asset."
"First, because it's a zombie institution, Carter Wright will toss it to you without a second thought. For him, it's the perfect solution. It exiles a troublemaker like you to a political backwater where you're completely ineffective, while also letting him demonstrate his magnanimity to the citizens—showing that he's willing to 'let bygones be bygones and appoint based on merit.'"
"Second, and most importantly," Roosevelt's voice grew serious, "while the committee may be a zombie institution now, its legal mandate not only still exists but is also incredibly broad."
"According to the city ordinance that established it, the committee's jurisdiction covers nearly every aspect of urban renewal. That includes everything from renovating infrastructure in old neighborhoods and providing job retraining for unemployed workers, all the way to environmental remediation and rezoning of abandoned industrial sites."
"It's like a Swiss Army knife that's been forgotten in a storage closet. It might be covered in dust, but all of its tools still work."
"What's more, it possesses a special power that even Mayor Carter Wright himself has likely forgotten."
In Leo's mind, Roosevelt's consciousness pulled up the original text of the city ordinance.
He showed Leo a specific clause that was highlighted.
"The City Revitalization Committee is authorized to act on behalf of the Pittsburgh City Government to directly petition relevant departments of the Federal Government for special funds designated for 'Urban Development and Reconstruction,' without requiring the approval of the Government of Pennsylvania."
"Do you understand what this means, Leo?"
Leo's heart began to race. "It means we have a chance to bypass the city and state treasuries, which are tightly controlled by Carter Wright and his allies, and get the money we need directly from Washington."
"Exactly," Roosevelt said. "It's like a small back door into their power structure. And we are going to use that back door to bring in a steady stream of the resources we need."
The target was locked in.
Now, they needed to devise a specific negotiating strategy.
Roosevelt crafted the perfect script for Leo.
"Now, call Jennings back immediately," Roosevelt commanded. "You need to be proactive. Make it seem like you've already made your decision and can't wait to move forward."