Fortress Farm - The Pullback

by G.R. Carter

  Chapter Three

  Renaissance Tower Building – Headquarters of Rosenberg, Kane & Associates

  A Few Months before the Great Reset

  “Let’s go get a steak and a salad tonight. And I’d love a nice bottle of wine, too.” Antonio “Little Tony” Diamante, Chief Executive Officer of Rosenberg, Kane & Associates spoke warmly to the Executive Council, both those in person and those appearing as images on the flat-screen video walls.

  “Sounds great, boss. How about the place on 23rd? Still pretty new and the suppliers there have been working with some of our other Supper Clubs for a while. Their stuff is real good,” the heavily accented voice on screen 3 replied.

  That accent, still making us sound like gangsters.

  Tony walked over to the floor to ceiling windows of his plush office. The view from the 42nd floor was spectacular, watching the ships go by on the river. And the noctilucent light shows put on by the Solar Storms made for great viewing up here. Sunday mornings were his favorite time to enjoy the sight. The normal hustle and bustle of the work week and the tourist throngs of Saturday made the calm Sundays a chance to appreciate how great the city was.

  St. Louis was his city, born and raised. Even when others in his Family went off to Ivy League schools to get their law degrees, he opted for hometown Washington University. Back then, the city struggled to maintain what once made it the Gateway to the West. He knew the place had the bones to be great again. He just couldn’t picture himself out on those hoity-toity campuses running around like he was a blue-blood. He was a Midwestern kid. Even though he liked the finer things that came with privilege, he wanted to stay here, where the Family was.

  It wasn’t like he needed to build a resume to get hired somewhere – there was never any doubt Tony would join the family business at Rosenberg, Kane & Associates, known around the city as ARK.

  Tony’s great-grandfather founded ARK when the Family’s hard-won wealth needed to be handled legally and invested wisely. Great-grandpa never finished high school, let alone law school, but clearly the writing was on the wall for the great Mafia Families throughout the Midwest. The Federal Government wasn’t going to allow them to continue to make tax-free profits, so the smart leaders such as the original Diamante founded “legitimate” firms. Manufacturing, accounting, some in the unions – but the smartest and most successful established law firms.

  Men once involved in organized crime figured out that instead of making thousands running protection rackets or gambling, their families could make billions being involved in “legitimate” government transactions. They moved every resource they could to this fertile ground called “The Law.” A Family could wrap up all functions of business into one office – the original vertical integration. Several firms existed here in St. Louis alone. But under Tony’s leadership, ARK pulled ahead in size and scope.

  FBI and police of the previous century would take credit for forcing the Mafia out of cities; instead, they just went to college.

  Tony was an electronics junkie, one of those who carried a Wristband and a TabPhone at the same time. Modern business was built on technology. The artificial intelligence known as GRAPEVINE figured out how to combat the Solar Storms that slowed and nearly destroyed the tech world, and money by the trillions poured into tech infrastructure projects. This city thrived with all of the dollars and new citizens rolling in, and so did all the major cities designated Regional Capitals by the Department of the Interior.

  Each state now had several hundred million to several hundred billion (depending on their influence in DC) in federal dollars to spend on rebuilding the electrical infrastructure of America. DC simply made the money appear. If a local government unit ran short on a critical project, all they had to do was ask for more from the Department of the Interior, the administrator of the bill’s funding. Money sloshed through the halls of government like water from a broken levee. Regional Capitals were the ones to receive their handouts. With teams of lawyers and civil engineers, proposed city projects were approved in the equivalent of a financial flash fire. Projects sitting in limbo for years were approved without even being updated.

  Even NASA got back into the act, beginning work on a new Lunar Base, where rare minerals consumed by the super computers could be mined in greater quantity. This top-secret project was helped in no small measure by one of St. Louis’ favorite corporate children, Boeing. Tony brokered that deal himself and made millions for ARK overnight.

  Large portions of outlying areas were still without reliable power or connectivity, but the heart of the great cities was beginning to beat again with power emanating from constant contact with the entire world. Smartgrid technologies were fortified with the artificial intelligence system named GRAPEVINE that could detect the spike in interference associated with the Solar Storms. In a split second, smart machines would hibernate, then restart as soon as safe radiation levels returned. Like an angel floating through the invisible air waves, GRAPEVINE rescued millions and then billions of gadgets from the electrical surges caused by Solar Storms.

  GRAPEVINE gave the electrical grid just the tool that was needed to keep the power consistently flowing to important infrastructure and emergency services. Portions of the grid affected by Solar Storms were hibernated, which became a frequently-used verb in the world lexicon. The rest of the global network would compensate for the sleeping part, allowing the flow of civilization to continue uninterrupted.

  For those on the inside track, life got better each and every day. The greatest negative impact was on the depleted middle class who came to understand the problem with millions and billions of dollars flowing – if you don’t have access to that money you quickly find yourself priced out of normal transactions. Products and services followed the easy money, and soon construction materials had doubled and tripled. Fiber for electric upgrades went to those with the most influence. Anything that was used for infrastructure became impossible to get outside of the major metros. A two dollar loaf of bread became five dollars. Gas and diesel doubled in price as supply dwindled, redirected where refiners could make the most money. Smaller cities and towns were left with sky-high prices or no supply at all. News of work in the cities and fading prospects in the rural communities caused great migrations to the Regional Capitals. The sudden influx of people pushed the housing supply to near zero, and the already bubble-level prices of homes and apartments skyrocketed further.

  New residents of the cities demanded that someone fix these problems and provide the full array of government services owed to them as citizens. Elected officials obliged the newcomers, promising them everything they wanted. Like Tammany Hall standing on the docks awaiting boatloads of new immigrants nearly two hundred years prior, America’s modern politicians set up Welcome Centers. These centers became a sort of modern Ellis Island in each city. New arrivals were evaluated for talents and skills and then made aware of all the services available to them simply for being present. Billions meant for repairing America’s backbone were redirected to pleasing Americas’ voters.

  Still, folks were optimistic. Life would be better than ever. And while there were major problems to be handled in the new slums, where a constant stream of refugees from flyover country settled, technology was the savior that made anything possible.

  Tony Diamante’s rational mind knew the whole system was a house of cards. The amount of debt being created could never be paid, effectively leaving future generations of Americans slaves to a system that would have to let them down. But grasping that fact allowed him to stash hard currency paid for by all the digital currency he could generate. And he could generate a lot. Tony was the go-between of the government agencies with projects to complete, the accounting firms that audited the projects, and the companies on the ground that could get the projects done.

  Unlike many others in his line of work, though, he believed the projects actually should get done, t
hat they weren't just transactions on paper that allowed those in the know to get a piece of the action. That opinion was far too uncommon in the furor kicked up by the great government omnibus bill known as the Pullback. The corruption associated with free money was off the charts. But Tony’s insistence on getting the real work done made him a superstar in many corners of this bureaucracy. This notoriety brought him twice or three times the amount of business he would have had otherwise. That notoriety also brought him a lot of enemies – partially due to jealousy, but also because one person completing contracted work made those who didn’t look bad. So as Tony was stashing hard currency for the financial collapse he knew would follow the Pullback, he was also building a private security force to protect himself and his interests.

  Those interests included connections with farmers for miles around, far outside of the city limits. Because daily food Rations were now a commodity and issued via government dispensaries, real and fresh foods were a luxury Tony both enjoyed and profited from. And connections with farmers far outside the prying eyes of government bureaucrats were literally worth gold.

  Unemployment was sky-high in the heartland, and the only opportunity for a young person outside of farming was to join the millions flocking to the mega cities. These people were easy prey for politicians and for unscrupulous businesspeople. Tony was never accused of being an angel, but he preferred to take advantage of those who had money than those who didn't. Otherwise, what was the point? Tony made sure ARK hired the best of the new arrivals, those possessing skills he needed for his various business interests.

  About the only bright spot for those left in rural America was the black market that sprung up to supply the cities with items government deemed unnecessary or illegal. Tony quickly secured those connections through a couple of employees who had come in from the countryside to seek work. Life began to resemble the beginning of the 20th century, with goods flowing from the hinterlands to the big cities. Except it wasn’t moonshine or other illegal goods flowing to the population center; this time it was food.

  All this occurred under the noses, or occasionally with the understood permission, of the new Department of the Interior Compliance Officers. Young bureaucrats at the Welcome Centers particularly appreciated fresh food instead of the Ration Bars they were expected to eat like everyone else had to. Tony provided what people wanted, and in return those same people gave Tony inside information that he requested.

  Department of the Interior workers issued Wristbands to the new arrivals. Wristbands were coded specifically for each citizen, giving them access to their assigned apartments and to their supply of Ration Bars that acted as daily sustenance. Through the miracle of modern chemistry, the Ration Bars tasted great and were issued in a wide variety of flavors and textures for your weekly allotment. Federal Government nutritionists commandeered the formula from a small college who developed the contents for maximum nutrition.

  The next step included creating a profile for each person, assuming they didn’t have one already. The profile included background and skills, as well as medical records for themselves and their families. The process smoothed out visits to the Affordable Care clinics spread throughout the city. One simply requested an appointment via the Wristband, assuming the Wristband didn’t detect irregularities in body function and preschedule an appointment.

  The brilliance of the process was that the Department of Human Services adjusted the Ration Bars based on your work activity and health status. As long as a person stuck to their assigned DHS plan, all of their daily needs were cared for, allowing each individual to pursue their desires. To make sure that one didn’t receive too many calories based on weekly activities, manual laborers got a higher potency than accountants, and children received Rations based on their age and body mass.

  Naturally, the life desired by Tony and his inner circle was a bit different than the average resident of the Regional Capitals. Safety and health were a given; ARK provided all their employees with concierge doctor service. Senior Department of the Interior Food Compliance Officers often joined Tony at his private “Supper Clubs” that dotted the city. Supper Clubs were the speakeasies of the 21st century – a place someone could get a real steak, baked potato, fresh salad, and a glass of wine. Supposedly illegal, government officials turned a blind eye to a source of great enjoyment for them personally.

  Definitely gonna get that steak tonight, Tony thought with a smile.

  Tony came back to the here and now, ready to return to the day’s agenda. “What is DOI saying about the new Wristband updates? Level A citizens are supposed to be eligible for an upgrade to the new hardware next month. Do we know when they will begin arriving in the stores?”

  One of the video screens reported in, “Shipments are supposed to arrive at Get–Marts by the 15th, sir.” That’s still a stupid name for a store Tony thought, referring to the only remaining full-line retail chain. But I guess it was better than Tar–Marts, or Wal–Get.

  Aloud, he said: “And you made sure they added 10% to the original ship orders? Just make sure that the receiving department at the airport remembers they’re to hold the order until we have a chance to get ours. One for each employee, remember?”

  “I’m on it, sir,” the screen replied.

  Tony turned to the group present in his massive office. His four department heads sat comfortably in antique wood and leather chairs. There existed no tension of boss and subordinate – three of the four were related to Tony, and the other had known him since he was a boy. Tony made sure to always treat these men and women with respect, and they reciprocated with a life-and-death level of loyalty.

  Every leader of the ARK family learned from an early age that bad information flowed from employees covering their own tails. Remove the fear of harsh consequences, and you received what you needed from your people. Tony even used the same technique on many of his enemies, of which ARK had acquired several.

  “Alright, let’s get to the City Permit problem. I understand that M&C Consultants got someone on their payroll into the mayor’s office. And now we’re getting our permits blocked?” Tony asked, referencing his biggest rival in the city.

  Permits from the city allowed his Supper Clubs to operate as a conference center for business meetings instead of a restaurant. The same permit department also licensed the book stores – known legally as antique stores – ARK operated all over the city. Electronic books were available for purchase directly from a citizen’s Wristband. Any company with a Publisher’s Permit could generate publications short or long, and on just about any topic known to mankind. Hate Crime laws ensured that no offensive material was published, and the electronic nature of books allowed the Free Speech Council to remove passages deemed inappropriate or intolerant.

  However, since the paper books from earlier times hadn’t been regulated, many didn’t meet the mandates the Free Speech Council established in the Pullback Bill. Besides, the paper version was considered environmentally unsound in the electronic age. Only antique stores were authorized to handle the hard copy, and then each title still had to be labeled with Advisory stickers if challenged by the Hate Crime laws. Wealthy people paid big money to get their hands on classic titles no longer published, like Huck Finn or The Giver. Tony kept his own library at ARK’s Renaissance Tower headquarters building.

  It was a nice side business. ARK Junior Partners made quite a bit of cash renting the basement meeting rooms to groups that refused to meet the FSC compliance guidelines set forward by the Free Speech Council. But that and the money they made from the Supper Clubs was less than a rounding error compared to the government contracts they had. That’s why Tony wondered what M&C was up to with this move. Why spend all this effort to cut off people who just wanted a steak or a book?

  I guess that’s where they think we get our power and influence from?

  More information came from Tony’s Vice President of Accounting and seco
nd cousin, Kathy Kingsley: “It’s even stranger than just a blocking move. From what our sources are telling us, someone from DC is calling this shot. They forced the mayor’s office to integrate some true believers from the Department of the Interior into the Office of Permits. The mayor struck a deal with M&C to put their people in place, as long as they follow the guidelines from DC.”

  “Since when did the Jews do business with Interior? They’re just as much in the rackets as us Pisans!” Bobby Costello, another cousin and the one in charge of Tony’s private security forces, nearly shouted from one of the video screens.

  “Shut up, Bobby. M&C is no more Jewish than ARK is Catholic,” Tony replied, disgusted at the distraction. “And drop it with the street lingo, your mother is Mayflower blue–blood and your father went to private school, just like you did.”

  Tony continued: “What I want to know is, why the change now? I understand the move by M&C, but why not try to take our permits? Why block them instead? How do they make money that way? And if there are real hard-liners from Interior here, how do we get to them? How can we convince them to change their minds?”

  Kingsely continued her report. “This is really odd, but you know how we were talking about this Continuity program that all the Human Resources people are pushing? It’s like a type of self–improvement program, which takes people through what they call Progressions. You’re supposed to get better with each level, and then build an electronic profile that can live on GRAPEVINE. And while you’re bettering yourself, your company is supposed to get better too. Anyway, that’s what M&C is into right now, and I guess these Interior people are also. So blocking the permits is their way of getting us all on what’s called the ‘True Path.’”

  Tony looked over at the only person in the room over sixty years old. Uncle Jack, whose real name was John Fitzgerald Diamante, remained as the last of the previous generation to operate full-time in ARK. Uncle Jack acted as Tony’s consigliere, with the side function of being the Head of Human Resources. While such a combination might seem strange to an outsider, in the business ARK conducted, the right people sometimes meant life and death.

  “Uncle Jack, we’re not letting that crap in here,” Tony said sharply.

  “We’re all in agreement on that, Tony,” Uncle Jack assured. “We fired the two mid–levels who brought the idea to us, and we’re keeping a close eye on all the people they associated with while working here.”

  The older man paused, considering his next words carefully as usual. “I think we have to look at this Continuity as a cult. I mean, we've known the people over at M&C since we all grew up together. We’ve had our differences, but at the root of it all I believed they were men to be respected. If they’ve brought this Continuity spazzatura into their firm, something bad has happened. Something strange like I’ve never seen before. For them to do business with the passivante from Interior? Unthinkable!”

  The older man paused again, and then continued in his clipped Midwestern tone: “We have to think in the worst terms possible. I’ve seen this before, when times get too bad or too good. A battle for control. All this money and power sloshing around, that can be intoxicating to people. Especially younger leaders, all due respect,” Uncle Jack nodded to Tony. Tony nodded back; he shared Uncle Jack’s suspicion of those in his own generation.

  “We have to assume that M&C will make a move to consolidate power here in the city. Whether they are true believers in this Continuity cult or it’s just a vehicle to rally their forces, it doesn’t much matter. The end result is the same,” Uncle Jack concluded, managing to look each and every person in the eye before completing the thought.

  “You’re right, Uncle Jack. As always. I didn’t want to let myself consider that. Why would these fools want to ruin this great thing we’ve all got going? This government money is going to set our families up with wealth for a hundred years! What more could they want? To me it is important to figure out if they really believe this crap, or if it’s a move for control,” Tony instructed the gathered team.

  Cousin Bobby broke in again, this time more measured, “Tony, we’ve got to consider all possible outcomes. You’ve always said the stores and the Supper Clubs were our key to the powerful. 'Something small that opens a bigger door,' right? Do you want to fight for that? What do you want the Peacemakers to do if the Clubs get raided?” Bobby asked, referring to the ARK security group. Uncle Jack had named them the Peacemakers when he organized the Family’s enforcers into a professionally licensed group forty years before. Not only did they provide security to the Family’s interests, some of the more powerful people in the city now hired them for their own personal security.

  “No, Bobby. No violence. At least not yet. We’re still making huge money off the government contracts, and we can’t sacrifice that by getting into a conflict with the morons from Interior. We need more information. Our permits are all good for another couple of months, and we can survive without new ones for a while. Let’s spend the time gathering information, so we can make an informed decision. In the meantime, all Level A citizens of ARK stay out of both the clubs and the stores. Just in case. And I want us on First Sheet. Get all the important members of the Firm and their families into the apartments here in Renaissance Tower,” Tony commanded.

  First Sheet was a reference to the old saying of “going to the mattresses.” That meant all members of the family stayed in the same place for security until whatever conflicts were settled. The First Sheet command was very rare. ARK leaders were all respectable people in the community; kids in school, Church and philanthropic commitments…First Sheet was a reminder to friends and neighbors where the Diamante family money originally came from. The move into the ARK headquarters emphasized how dangerous Tony believed the situation to be.

  “Ok, everyone work your contacts today. Find out everything you can. Burn favors if you need to. I want everyone here in my office by 7 pm tonight. We’re going to hammer out a strategy to start implementing tomorrow. And I’m serious; I want all of you in your Renaissance Tower apartments today. Send a car to pick up your families and your personal items. No excuses,” Tony demanded.

  “We’ll have a big family dinner tomorrow night to celebrate something. Make it seem as natural as possible. We’ll figure it out. I’ll see you in a little while.”

  Tony waited as the video screens went blank, and everyone but Uncle Jack left to begin their work.

  As the door closed, Tony stared at the man who served as his primary advisor since Tony’s own father had passed away. “This is the one, isn’t it, Uncle Jack? You said each head of the Family has one major test, and this is mine. I can feel it.”

  “I’m afraid so, son.” Uncle Jack was much more relaxed and informal when it was just he and Tony together. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it coming sooner. This took me a little by surprise. Maybe I’m losing my edge, eh?”

  Tony retrieved a glass of bourbon and a cigar for his uncle, and then sat in the dark, rich leather of the chair beside him. These chairs can’t even be reproduced now, Tony thought reflectively. I wonder why all the good stuff is illegal?

  He smiled at his mentor. “Nonsense. You’re still the best. What is your gut telling you we should do?”

  Uncle Jack stared at his cigar, then answered: “This is going to sound strange, but I was talking to one of new people in the Networking department the other day at lunch. One that we recruited from out in the Valley...an absolute beauty, by the way. HR had an orientation lunch and I went down there to say a few words of welcome. So I asked her why she moved here to the Midwest instead of staying out there where all this Network stuff was being created. Anyway, she told me all about these Continuity people, and about how fanatical they are. Made her really uncomfortable.”

  “Did she have family here?” Tony asked, curious about where his uncle was heading with the thought.

  “No, that’s just it. She said she ref
used to do these things called Progressions. Her bosses insisted they all do it. She’s a religious person, and she felt that Continuity was another faith that she wouldn’t sign on to. So she decided to move somewhere more open to conservative religions. She read about you in some business journal. How you were modernizing the government contract business. She decided to give St. Louis a try. When she got to the Welcome Center here, she mentioned ARK and they sent her to our people,” Uncle Jack concluded.

  “Okay, Uncle Jack,” he said, returning to more pressing matters. “Where are we going with this?”

  “If the Continuity people demand complete compliance, and M&C and Interior are both in bed with them, they won’t let up until we either sign on or they destroy us. The weaker houses here in town will fall in line because they won’t fight Interior, they can’t afford to lose any government cheese. Pretty soon they’ll wear us out.”

  Tony thought about ARK fighting battles against each law firm in the city – legal or otherwise. And the Department of the Interior held the strings on each contract they awarded.

  What a day! This morning on top of the world, this afternoon trapped.

  “Here’s what you have to do, Tony. You have to spend some of that war chest you’ve been saving. As CEO, you’ve made the family and our partners very wealthy. Best financial results in the history of the firm. Now everyone has to understand we’ve got to invest some back…for our future. I’ll help you with that, right?” the old man said rhetorically.

  He continued: “Tony, how do these Valley people operate? Same as the Interior and all of DC do. Through this GRAPEVINE Network. Consider how much power rests in that one name, GRAPEVINE. I’m no Luddite, you know that. But whenever one group can control everyone else with just a name, that’s trouble. The Greeks, the Romans, the English, even America… all power could be summed up in a single name. Today that name is GRAPEVINE,” he said, taking another puff of his cigar and a sip of his drink. “Think about it, you can’t even go buy food in this city without those electronic Wristbands. No cash accepted anywhere. Every transaction tracked and logged in a database. A database controlled by GRAPEVINE. Now that’s power!”

  “You’re not suggesting we sign on with them, are you?” Tony asked with shock.

  “Not a chance. Your father and I went through something similar with the LBJ Great Society, and our father with FDR and the New Deal. More recently the stimulus bills and the Zero Interest policies from the Federal Reserve gave us the open road to unlimited debt. Each misguided government program led us to here, one step at a time. Unlimited government money makes people crazy, thinking they have all the answers when they don’t even understand the questions,” he said, shaking his head.

  “But I will admit, Tony, this feels a little different to me. In the past, folks like us could meet and plan in secret. Send messages to one another. Hide out on a different continent if we needed to. Go underground, so to speak. This GRAPEVINE knows where you’re at all the time. What you’re doing and who you’re doing it with. Somehow, you’ve got to get our firm, and our family, out of the line of sight of these Interior people. At least until the big collapse comes and then we’ll be able to do business again.”

  “So you think this will come to an end, too?” Tony asked.

  “It always does, son. These things can’t run white-hot forever. The rocket always comes back to earth. What I’m afraid of is this time instead of landing with a thud, it will be a kaboom,” he said as he made the explosion gesture with his hands and opened his eyes wide.

  “We’ve still got friends in DC; I’ll call them now. One of our Congressmen served with Speaker Reed in the Marines. I’ll see if he can get us some grace with Interior. Tell them we’re willing to play ball.” Uncle Jack nodded and stood up, stubbing out the cigar but keeping the drink. Until we get a plan put together, at least.”

  “Hey Uncle Jack, one more favor. Figure out who that lady in Networking was that you were talking to the other day. Tell her to come to my office immediately. I’ve got a special project for her.”