Felix, Catherine, and Senator Clark were still reviewing the situation.
"Hans's proposal is a poison pill."
Clark's voice was weary. "He wants to completely muddy the waters with an endless, all-encompassing audit that affects everyone. The moderates in the committee have probably been swayed by him. They're afraid of offending all the suppliers in the East and would rather sacrifice efficiency for political safety."
"This is a clever strategy," Felix commented objectively. "He successfully turned the accusation against Sloan into a vote of confidence for the entire military supply system. We're on the defensive."
"Yes," Chairman Clark said, rubbing his brow. "Unless... another force, more powerful than Sloan, enters the fray to break this deadlock."
Felix looked at him, a meaningful smile on his face.
"Thomas, perhaps this force is closer than we imagine." He subtly pushed a piece of intelligence about unusual stock movements in New York Central Railroad, which Tom Hayes had just sent via urgent telegram, to the center of the table.
Clark glanced at it, surprise flashing in his tired eyes... The next morning, the hearing continued.
The atmosphere in the entire room was extremely unfavorable to Felix's side. Senator Hans and Sloan both wore expressions of confident victory. They intended to formally pass the "comprehensive audit" proposal today, turning what was a precise strike against them into a prolonged bureaucratic farce.
However, just as Senator Hans cleared his throat, preparing to speak...
Chairman Clark preemptively struck his gavel.
"Before the committee discusses Senator Hans's proposal," his voice was steady and powerful, "I received some new submissions yesterday from the New York State constituency. Today, our committee is honored to invite a respected colleague, Senator Conkling from New York State, to provide supplementary remarks on the issue of 'railroad operational efficiency and shareholder rights.'"
This sudden change in agenda stunned both Hans and Sloan.
Senator Conkling, a political heavyweight known for his tough style and deep connections, slowly rose from the spectator seats and walked to the podium. Everyone knew he was Cornelius Vanderbilt's—the legendary tycoon known as the "Commodore"—most reliable political ally on Capitol Hill.
"Mr. Chairman, colleagues," Conkling's voice was loud and full of power. "I stand here today representing thousands of ordinary citizens in my constituency who hold shares in New York Central Railroad and Pennsylvania Railroad, to ask a few small questions of the two railroad company chairmen present."
His gaze, like a knife, pierced directly at Sloan and Thomson.
"Mr. Sloan," he began, his first question striking at the heart of the matter, "in my constituency, there are many widows and veterans who rely on your company's stock dividends to make a living. They've asked me to inquire why, in 1862, a year of surging military transport orders, your company's shareholder dividends actually dropped by a full five percentage points compared to the previous year? Where did these profits, which should have belonged to the shareholders, go?"
Sloan's face instantly changed.
Before he could answer, Conkling produced another document.
"Here, I have an independent audit report prepared by professional accountants, jointly commissioned by several shareholders of your company."
He held the document high. "The report shows that your company's unnecessary administrative expenses and special public relations fees increased by nearly two hundred percent in the past year!"
"Can you explain to us, and to those shareholders," Conkling's voice was like a judge's pronouncement, "who these funds were used for public relations with, and what kind of public relations it was? Was it, as the Chicago Daily Truth reported, used in Albany to promote legislation that hinders free market competition?!"
The entire hearing room erupted in an uproar.
This was no longer a commercial accusation. This was a senator representing shareholder interests launching a public, fatal vote of no confidence inquiry against the management of a publicly traded company on Capitol Hill!
"Mr. Chairman, I object!" Senator Hans stood up excitedly. "Senator Conkling's remarks are irrelevant to our topic today!"
"How can it be irrelevant, Senator Hans?" Conkling turned to him, a mocking smile on his face. "Doesn't your proposal call for a 'financial audit' of all military suppliers to protect taxpayers' interests?"
"What I am doing now is precisely fulfilling the duty of an audit." He pointed at Sloan. "Except, I am not auditing how much Mr. Argyle saved the States. Rather, I am auditing how much Mr. Sloan wasted of shareholders' and taxpayers' money for himself and his unseen friends!"
Chairman Clark struck his gavel at this moment.
"Senator Conkling's inquiry is very timely and necessary," he ruled. "Before the Finance Committee conducts a comprehensive audit of all suppliers, the Eastern Railroad Alliance should resume transportation for Argyle & Co. Foods and Umbrella Pharmaceuticals. Secondly, I propose that the Military Committee and the Finance Committee immediately establish a joint investigation team. Priority should be given to a special investigation into New York Central Railroad and Pennsylvania Railroad's special public relations expenses and the decline in shareholder dividends over the past year!"
This proposal was like a resounding slap, hitting Hans and Sloan hard in the face.
Their strategy to muddy the waters was returned to them, in kind, by the other side in a more sophisticated and irrefutable manner... The hearing once again ended in discord.
In Senator Clark's private office, Felix expressed his sincere gratitude.
"Felix, this is a victory you deserve," Chairman Clark said with a relaxed smile. "Now Sloan and Hans are preoccupied. It's time to reclaim what's yours."
He looked at Felix, hinting, "And you no longer have to worry about that 'Canal Safety Act' in Albany. Hans now wishes that foolish proposal would disappear more than anyone. I will personally speak to my friends in the New York State Assembly, and I guarantee it will never appear on any committee's agenda again."
"Thank you very much, Thomas," Felix said sincerely.
"As for the Pittsburgh railroad blockade," a cold glint flashed in Felix's eyes, "it's my turn to have a good talk with Mr. Sloan about 'transportation efficiency.'"
As they walked out of the hearing building, Senator Conkling was waiting for them at the end of the corridor.
"Mr. Argyle," he extended his hand, a politician's characteristic warm smile on his face, "a brilliant hearing. My friend, Mr. Vanderbilt, looks forward to having dinner with you in New York."
"I look forward to it as well, Senator," Felix shook his hand firmly. "Please tell Mr. Vanderbilt that the future of New York needs us 'new friends' to build it together."
Only when Conkling's carriage disappeared down the street did Catherine speak softly.
"Felix... are we allied with Vanderbilt now?"
"No, my dear," Felix shook his head, a complex smile on his face. "We are not allied with anyone. It just so happens that at the same time, we both want to bring the same fat pig to the dinner table."
He turned around, looking at the white Capitol Hill.
"Sloan's political firewall has been breached," he said softly.
"Catherine, send a telegram to Tom," he gave his final instructions. "Tell him the obstacles in Washington have been cleared. When news of Sloan being forced to lift the Pittsburgh blockade reaches Wall Street, the Railroad Alliance's credibility will suffer again, and their stock price will fall further. That will be our signal for a full offensive."
The Washington hearing ended in a dramatic fashion, but the chain reaction it triggered had only just begun.
Early the next morning, in a suite at the Willard Hotel, Sloan and J. Edgar Thomson had a brief and tense meeting.
The faces of the two railroad magnates were etched with the fatigue and anger of losers.
Thomson, the composed chairman of the Pennsylvania Railroad, spoke in a hoarse voice, "Sloan, we've suffered a major setback.
That Senator Conkling... he's Vanderbilt's mouthpiece.
The Commodore has officially entered the fray."
"I know, he's been after us for a while now," Sloan replied curtly.
He hadn't slept all night, replaying every detail of the game in his mind, ultimately coming to a chilling conclusion: from the moment Felix Argyle walked into Washington, he had already lost.
"We must cut ties with Hans immediately," Sloan decided, his voice cold and emotionless.
"Let him deal with that damned joint investigation alone.
At the same time," he looked at Thomson, "cancel all 'safety inspections' in Pittsburgh, and let Argyle's cargo pass unhindered without a minute's delay.
We cannot give him and Clark any more excuses to continue attacking us."
"Just... give up?" Thomson was somewhat unwilling.
"This isn't giving up, Edgar," Sloan looked at him.
"This is necessary.
We lost the battle in Washington, and now we must immediately contract our defenses and protect our company.
Vanderbilt has begun to act, and I fear that the young man's true attack has only just begun."
Sloan's premonition was correct.
When the astonishing results of the hearing spread across the entire East Coast via telegraph lines, a tsunami of public opinion was completely unleashed.
Fowler, the editor-in-chief of the Chicago Daily Truth, with an almost celebratory demeanor, wrote the proudest headline of his career for the next day's newspaper:
"Trial on Capitol Hill! Railroad Tycoons Suspected of Embezzlement and Self-Enrichment, Military Committee Establishes Special Investigation Team!"
Fowler no longer used any inflammatory words.
He simply published the testimonies from the hearing, especially the statements of Major Carter and Senator Conkling, verbatim.
Facts are far more powerful than any eloquence.
When the people of New York, Boston, and Philadelphia read these undeniable accusations from Capitol Hill in the next morning's newspapers, the entire dam of public opinion completely collapsed.
The previous reports from the Herald that attempted to tarnish Felix's reputation seemed so ridiculous and pale in the face of these official testimonies, filled with numbers and evidence.
Public anger was completely ignited.
And this anger was most directly reflected on the huge ticker board at the New York Stock Exchange... Wall Street, Patriot Investment Company's office.
Tom Hayes, who had received the telegram, stood by the window, clearly hearing the panicked and chaotic cries from the exchange floor below, like a beehive being poked.
"Sir!" his assistant Johnny rushed in, his voice trembling slightly with excitement, "It's begun!
The stock price of Pennsylvania Railroad is plummeting!
Less than half an hour after opening, it has already fallen from eight dollars to below six dollars!
A large number of panic sell orders are flooding the market!"
"What about Sloan's New York Central Railroad?"
"The situation is just as bad!
Everyone is selling, they're afraid they're not running fast enough!"
Hayes took a deep breath, he could smell the bloody scent of greed and fear unique to Wall Street in the air.
"Execute Storm Plan," he gave the pre-prepared order.
"Have all our brokers, who have been lurking in the market, act simultaneously," his voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable force.
"No more small-batch probing, no more hiding our intentions.
Use all our available funds on the books to acquire all the Pennsylvania Railroad stock being dumped due to panic on the market!"
"Yes!"
A stock accumulation operation of rare scale in the modern history of Wall Street began.
In the bustling hall of the exchange, while everyone was frantically selling due to panic, a dozen previously inconspicuous brokers, like reefs, moved against the current, beginning to absorb all the cheap stocks pouring out at an astonishing speed and without hesitation.
And just as Hayes's "Storm" plan was fully underway, his observers immediately discovered another shocking thing.
"Sir..." Johnny ran in again, his face showing confusion and a hint of awe, "That mysterious third party... he's doing the same thing as us!
And, his appetite is even bigger than ours!"
"Our target is the Pennsylvania Railroad," Johnny reported, "while he is simultaneously targeting both the Pennsylvania Railroad and the New York Central Railroad!
His buying volume is almost double ours!"
Hayes listened, was silent for a moment, then showed a knowing smile.
It seemed that Vanderbilt, who had also been lurking underwater, finally revealed his true self in the storm he had stirred up... That afternoon, when the closing bell of the exchange rang, the entire Wall Street was still immersed in the aftershocks of the railroad stock market crash.
In Hayes's office, however, the atmosphere was like a victorious command center.
"Sir..." Johnny looked at the statistical sheet in his hand, his voice slightly distorted by extreme excitement, "We... we successfully acquired over ten percent of the Pennsylvania Railroad's circulating shares in just one day.
Adding our previous accumulation, our total holdings under Patriot Investment Company have already exceeded thirteen percent!"
Hayes knew what this number meant.
Thirteen percent, this was already enough for them, as a major shareholder, to legally question the board of directors and even nominate their own board candidates.
The Boss's goal was actually achieved within a single day.
Just then, there was a knock on the office door.
A man dressed in a Delmonico's Restaurant waiter's uniform respectfully handed over an invitation sealed with a wax impression.
Hayes opened the invitation, on it was powerful and vigorous handwriting.
"Mr. Hayes:
Heard of your great success at the exchange today.
I am Cornelius Vanderbilt, and I cordially invite you and Mr. Argyle to dine at Delmonico's Restaurant tomorrow evening."
Hayes looked at the name on the invitation, a name powerful enough to shake the entire States, and it seemed that this war was about to enter a completely new phase.
The giant hidden behind the scenes had finally extended an invitation for a meeting.
The next evening, Delmonico's Restaurant.
This was the most exclusive restaurant in all of New York, and even the entire States. Only the wealthiest and most powerful individuals were privileged enough to reserve its private rooms.
When Felix and Tom Hayes arrived, Vanderbilt was already waiting in the room.
Unlike the extravagance of Felix's previous dinner, this magnate, whose fortune had long exceeded ten million dollars, wore a rather plain-looking black coat, without a walking stick or any jewelry. He simply sat there quietly, yet the entire atmosphere of the room seemed to revolve around him alone.
His weathered eyes, sharp as an eagle's, scrutinized Felix as he walked in.
"Mr. Argyle, it's been a while since that wonderful dinner at your home. You've certainly put on quite a show in Washington recently."
"Mr. Vanderbilt." Felix responded with a smile, his demeanor neither humble nor arrogant, "Compared to the grand dramas you've staged in shipping and railroads, my small endeavors are nothing remarkable."
There was no superfluous small talk. After the three men were seated, Vanderbilt cut directly to the chase.
"You've done well in Washington and on Wall Street."
He said, while crudely cutting the rare steak in front of him with a knife, "It was like a brilliant fleet battle. First, you used heavy artillery—your hearings—to blast open their defenses. Then, you used stock acquisitions to seize the beachhead. Sloan and his people were led by the nose from the very beginning."
"You flatter me." Felix replied, "As a businessman, I am merely protecting my shipping lanes from pirate harassment."
"Pirates?" Vanderbilt scoffed, "Sloan isn't a pirate; he's just a foolish bureaucrat. He treated New York Central Railroad as his private club, not a company to make money for its shareholders. I've wanted to kick him out for a long time. You've saved me a lot of trouble this time."
He put down his knife and fork, and looked directly at Felix with his sharp eyes.
"Alright, young man, enough pleasantries. Tell me, is your real target the Pennsylvania Railroad, or do you just want to stir up trouble and make a quick buck?"
This was the true core question of the dinner. Vanderbilt needed to know whether this young man in front of him was a builder like him, or merely a pure speculator.
"What I want," Felix's answer was direct, "is a transportation partner that can provide fair and efficient service for my goods. If Mr. Thomson can do that, I'd be happy to be a quiet shareholder who just collects dividends."
"But if he can't," Felix met Vanderbilt's gaze, unyielding, "then I will replace him with someone who can, to be the chairman of this company."
"Hahahaha!" Vanderbilt let out a booming laugh, "Excellent! I like your frankness. A shareholder who only thinks about dividends is a coward. Only a shareholder who dares to think about replacing the chairman is a real player."
He raised his glass.
"Then, we can discuss cooperation, Argyle."
"Sloan's New York Central Railroad is mine." Vanderbilt's tone was as if stating an established fact, "I will gain control of it at next year's annual shareholders' meeting. The struggle between Hans and Clark in Washington will provide me with enough time and ammunition."
"As for Thomson's Pennsylvania Railroad," he looked at Felix, "I can leave it alone; that's your prey."
"And my terms are simple." He held up a finger, "In the future board of directors of New York Central Railroad, my people will support all your proposals regarding 'improving transportation efficiency.' In exchange, your people must also support all my proposals regarding 'cleaning out the old management.' Together, we will sweep out Sloan and Thomson, these two old stubborn men, and all their relatives and friends entrenched in the company."
This was a proposal full of power and temptation.
An 'alliance' between two new and old giants, carving up the two most important railway arteries of the East Coast.
"Of course, that's no problem, but I have one more question, Captain."
"Speak."
"Is your appetite limited solely to New York Central Railroad?"
Vanderbilt looked at Felix, and for the first time, a flicker of genuine appreciation crossed his cloudy eyes.
"Young man," he said slowly, "When you own one river, you naturally want another. When you have one lake, you will also want the entire ocean. My appetite will always depend on how much more my plate can hold."
"I understand." Felix nodded, and he raised his own glass.
"Then, for our respective appetites," he said, "and for the new rules of New York's future."
"Cheers to our cooperation."
Two wine glasses clinked softly together under the massive crystal chandelier of Delmonico's Restaurant... That night, in the carriage returning to Fifth Avenue.
"Boss, this is a deal with the devil." Tom Hayes's tone still carried a hint of excitement and unease, "But undoubtedly, this is a deal that can make us a lot of money. With Vanderbilt's support, gaining control of the Pennsylvania Railroad board is only a matter of time."
"We didn't make a deal with the devil, Tom." Felix looked at the rapidly receding streetscape outside the window, "We merely temporarily demarcated our respective hunting grounds with another hungry shark."
He closed his eyes, and Vanderbilt's eyes, full of greed and power, appeared in his mind.
"But you must remember, Tom." He said softly, "Sharks have no friends. Today he is an ally, tomorrow, after he devours Sloan's Central Railroad, his enormous appetite will drive him to seek the next prey."
"And at that time," Felix opened his eyes, which were full of coldness, "all the railway companies in the entire States will face their biggest opponent, so we cannot be careless; we must increase our shares in Pennsylvania Railroad Company as quickly as possible."
Hayes suddenly tensed.
While winning one war, the Boss was already preparing for the next, even grander and more dangerous war.
"I understand, Boss." He responded, "I will have Patriot Investment Company accelerate the acquisition of Pennsylvania Railroad shares, while also beginning to build the most detailed archive of all of Mr. Vanderbilt's properties."
Felix nodded, saying nothing more.
The carriage drove past bustling Broadway, finally stopping in front of the mansion that symbolized New York's new elite class.
A dinner that determined the future of the East Coast railroads thus concluded peacefully. But the true storm it would unleash had only just begun to brew.