lovenovelstory Chapter 321 - 158: Who’s Counting the Votes?
Chapter 321 - 158: Who’s Counting the Votes?
Pittsburgh campaign headquarters, conference room. 4:00 AM.
Twelve people were seated around a long table. They were the top election law attorneys Karen Miller had urgently flown in from Philadelphia, New York, and Washington, using every connection she had.
They wore expensive, custom-tailored suits, their ties still impeccably knotted even at this hour.
Leo Wallace stood at the head of the long table.
"Everyone."
Leo began to speak.
"The campaign rallies are over. The TV ads are over. The handshakes and baby-kissing are over."
"Now, the real war is just beginning."
He turned and wrote a number on the whiteboard behind him: 1308.
"Pennsylvania Election Code, Section 1308. The standards for verifying provisional and mail-in ballots."
Leo rapped the number with his knuckles.
"This is our battlefield."
"There are still 6% of votes out there that haven’t been counted. Right now, those ballots are sitting in the warehouses of various county election committees, sealed in their envelopes."
"They’re dead."
"Our job is to bring our votes to life, and to make sure Monroe’s votes are dead and buried."
"The people who cast the votes decide nothing. The people who count the votes decide everything."
Leo took a deep breath and looked at the lawyers.
"Our strategy is simple. It’s divided into two parts."
He picked up a marker and wrote "Allegheny County"—the county where Pittsburgh is located—on the left side of the whiteboard.
"This is our home turf. The people on the county election committee won’t dare to openly cheat for us, but within the bounds of their discretionary power, they’ll lean our way."
"So, here, our strategy is to maximize leniency."
Leo stared into the lawyers’ eyes.
"I want you to lead your teams and plant yourselves in front of every single counting table."
"If a ballot for Murphy has a date on the envelope in the wrong format, that’s a clerical error. The ballot is valid."
"If the signature is a little sloppy, it’s because the voter is old and their hand was shaking. The ballot is valid."
"If there’s a coffee stain on the corner of the envelope, that’s just a sign of life. The ballot is valid."
"As long as that circle is filled in next to Murphy’s name—even if it was drawn with lipstick—I want you to fight for it. Cite the ’priority of voter intent’ clause in the code and save that vote for me!"
"I want every single rejected ballot here turned into a valid vote."
The lawyers nodded, their pens flying across their notepads.
Leo wrote "Philadelphia County" on the right side of the whiteboard.
"This is Monroe’s stronghold."
"The election committee there is a fortress for the Establishment Faction. They’ll do everything they can to invalidate our votes."
"So, over there, we need to be as nitpicky as possible."
Leo’s eyes turned vicious.
"I’m sending our most aggressive observers to Philadelphia."
"Watch their every move."
"If a ballot for Monroe is in an envelope that isn’t completely sealed—even if it’s just a tiny corner—that’s an improper seal with a risk of tampering. Demand it be thrown out!"
"If the voter didn’t put the ballot in that damn inner privacy sleeve, that’s a ’naked ballot.’ It violates privacy rules. It must be thrown out!"
"If the signature doesn’t perfectly match the one on file from five years ago, that’s impersonation. Demand it be thrown out!"
"If the postmark is illegible, that’s a late delivery. Demand it be thrown out!"
"In Philadelphia, your mission is not to protect democracy."
"Your mission is to destroy Monroe’s ballots."
"Even if a single crease on a piece of paper is wrong, I want you to raise an objection. Demand it be set aside, demand a review, demand a judge get involved."
"We’re going to slow down their count until they choke on it."
Leo braced his hands on the table, his bloodshot eyes burning with an almost fanatical fighting spirit.
"Everyone, listen to me."
"Those fat cats in Philadelphia think this election is over. They think the percentages on TV are the final verdict. They’re popping champagne in their hotel rooms right now, laughing at us for not knowing our place."
"But they’re wrong."
Leo raised a hand, pointing out the window at the pitch-black night, toward the vast lands of Pennsylvania.
"Now, I want you to go out there."
"Disperse into this endless night."
"Go to the high school gyms in Philadelphia, the community basements in Pittsburgh, every single polling station in Allegheny County."
"Plant yourselves there like nails."
"Watch every single person there. Watch every pair of hands that touches those papers. Watch every move to throw a ballot into the trash."
Leo’s voice grew louder and louder.
"Don’t let them think they can just casually steal our victory."
"Tell them we’re here. Tell them that behind every envelope they treat like trash, there’s a living, breathing person. There’s a steelworker who stood in line for hours in the wind just to cast that one vote."
"Those people placed their hope in our hands. We cannot let that hope rot in a recycling bin."
"Go and take back the victory that belongs to us, one ballot at a time, from that pile of scrap paper."
Leo swept his arm forward, issuing his final command.
"Go!"
...
「Daybreak.」
Pittsburgh, Allegheny County Election Counting Center.
The massive gymnasium had been converted into a temporary vote-counting factory.
Hundreds of long tables were arranged in neat rows, piled high with yellow envelopes.