The Striking Workers
Stephanie looked back and forth between me, Vito, and Soren, swallowing dryly.
“Sanha. Are those people with you? You just said boss, and—”
“Yes. Our boss is our employer,” Vito answered for her.
Soren, standing beside him, gave me a quick wink.
It was an unnecessary little gesture of consideration, but it was hard to ignore entirely, so I managed an awkward smile.
“Thank you for coming all this way. Please, have a seat.”
I pointed to the chairs opposite us and invited Vito and Soren to sit down.
Only then did Stephanie fumble her way into offering us the menu.
“Ah, um, then... just call me when you’ve decided what to order!”
She almost fled to the counter, then stopped and looked back over her shoulder as if she’d suddenly remembered something.
“Oh, right. Sanha, you’re coming to the reunion, aren’t you? We’re renting out the school gym next month and making it a big thing.”
“Really? I didn’t know when it was.”
“I’ll send you a letter! Or just tell me whenever you’re free! I can work around your schedule and host it then!”
When I nodded, Stephanie beamed at me with exaggerated brightness and backed away with quick little steps.
From a distance, I heard her murmur to herself.
“Wow, he really made it after going to Harvard. I should’ve gotten closer to him when we were in school...”
Meanwhile, while Vito and Soren sorted out the documents for the report, I let my mind drift for a moment.
The reunion, huh...
Not a bad idea.
To be honest, reunions were usually a waste of time for ordinary people—an excuse to stir up stale nostalgia, or to wave around flimsy successes and soothe the insecurities of high school.
But for me, the Garden Queens reunion meant something else entirely.
Because I need to set up a drilling company here.
If I wanted to establish an oil company in Garden Queens, local support was absolutely essential.
As I bought land, laid pipeline, and hired waves of workers, the attitudes of the people who actually lived there would become a decisive factor in whether the business succeeded or failed.
Once the drilling equipment moved in and the trucks started coming and going, complaints about noise and dust would pour in, and pushback from environmental groups would be a given.
But if, at that point, the townspeople said, “Still, the owner of that company is from our own neighborhood,” then that one line could shift the atmosphere of a public hearing and even influence a county council vote on permits.
The reunion was the most basic, and one of the most efficient, stages on which I could test the local mood and build a friendly image around myself.
If I’m going to make the most of my identity as a Queens public high school alumnus, of course I should go to the reunion. I should visit the teachers, too, and greet the parents of my old classmates.
There was no faster or more powerful form of publicity than rumors spreading through the mouths of old friends.
Especially in a small rural town like this, a simple “He went to our school” could be more effective than millions of dollars in lobbying.
That’s why people say rural gatekeeping and old-timers in the sticks can be so damn scary.
Trust in a community couldn’t be bought with money. It could only be earned through relationships.
Meanwhile...
Thud.
Soren opened his briefcase first and set a thick report on the table.
Lee Energy 1992 Q1 Asset Management Report
I skimmed the key figures.
- Initial Capital: $1,500,000
- Gross Revenue: $14,200,000
- Operating Expenses & Tax: $1,500,000
- Net Cash Position: $12,700,000
...
- Net Profit: $12,700,000 / ROI: +747%
The amount of money I could legally operate with now was $12.7 million.
That was more than eight times the initial capital of $1.5 million.
But even that was only the tip of the iceberg. In my back pocket, there was still a mountain of unlaundered, unlicensed oil money stacked up like snowdrifts.
All of that included, my current net worth was just shy of $30 million.
Add in the lottery winnings I was having the Harvard Alumni Association manage for me—the prize split fifty-fifty with Grace—and it pushed me safely beyond $30 million.
And besides, since I got the IRS to delay the audit in exchange for handing over those major tax cheats, all I have to do now is build a legal structure around everything.
I couldn’t afford to relax just because I’d successfully cut a deal with the IRS and the Justice Department.
If Team Leader Alfie Solomons got replaced, or if he changed his mind, the audit could be brought forward again.
That was why I planned to finish building a flawless circular ownership structure for the corporation within a year if at all possible, so I’d be ready for every contingency.
Even as those thoughts ran through my head, Soren kept going with his report.
“With this, all tax processing for this quarter’s sales has been completed. The proceeds from the sale and rental of the antiquities recovered from the abandoned warehouse have all been properly declared and handled in accordance with IRS regulations.”
“And the companies we acquired this time?”
“We applied a net operating loss carryforward by using the accumulated deficits of the four newly acquired corporations. Black Gigantia Drilling Solutions carried $480,000 in losses, Pinkfoot Goliath Drilling Company had $320,000, the Brazilian Black Geological Exploration Institute had $270,000, and King Baboon Pipeline Services had $410,000. In total, we deducted $1.48 million in losses from this quarter’s taxable income. Thanks to that, the corporate tax savings over the next three years should be substantial. In short, we’ve minimized the taxes we’ll have to pay within the legal framework.”
Since I had acquired distressed companies, the process would generate major tax advantages.
In a downturn like this, those benefits would only be even larger, so I was essentially getting a double reward.
It was great to buy good companies cheaply, and even better that the process came with dramatic tax incentives and government support.
“Excellent.”
When I nodded, Soren smiled gently.
This time, Vito opened his own documents.
“I’ll report on transaction and contract status, boss.”
He’d probably started using that title to puff me up in front of the women, but now it seemed to have stuck so naturally in his mouth that he kept saying it.
“First, I’ll speak about Salmon Pink Birdeater Co. This company was founded in the 1920s as a mining concern and holds the Mineral Rights to the Wishville abandoned mine district. It once mined gold and copper, but it was shut down in the 1960s when it became unprofitable. After that, only the shell of the company remained, and it eventually ended up in the hands of creditors.”
Vito spread out a map on the table.
It was a cadastral map of the Wishville area, with the zones covered by Salmon Pink Birdeater Co.’s mineral rights marked in red.
“That’s a pretty wide area. It looks like this company used to be huge.”
“Weren’t you the one who decided to acquire it?”
“I didn’t realize it was this extensive.”
I had only picked out a few major names by relying on the knowledge from before my regression; I hadn’t entered this with a detailed understanding of the internal situation.
Vito continued his explanation.
“There are seven creditors in total. Texas First Savings Bank is the largest, holding $1.8 million, and the remaining $1.1 million or so is split among six smaller local financial institutions, including Midland Agricultural Cooperative Bank, Odessa Mutual Credit Union, and Lubbock Regional Bank. The total face value of the debt is $3.9 million.”
“How did they react? I doubt the creditors were cooperative from the start.”
“At first, they were completely dismissive. They hung up on us, saying not to waste their time with prank calls about some shell company nobody would ever buy. It was a pile of bad debt that had been rotting for more than thirty years, so nobody cared. That’s when we changed tactics. I met directly with the debt manager at Texas First Savings Bank and sat down at the negotiating table. I told him, until my lips were practically worn raw, that if they didn’t cash out this debt now, it would remain a worthless line item on their books forever.”
“From their perspective, it’s a chance to cleanly get rid of a headache that keeps getting flagged at every audit.”
“Exactly. But maybe the guy in charge was a bit slow, because he didn’t seem to get it at first. After I explained it several times, though, he finally understood—and after that, he became very enthusiastic.”
“Once Texas First Savings Bank came over, the rest would be easy.”
“That’s right. As soon as Texas First Savings Bank said it wanted to sell first, the other six creditors started calling in one after another. It turned into a race to see who could sell first.”
I read the final result printed at the bottom of Vito’s report.
“Acquired all $3.9 million in face-value debt for a one-time cash payment of $473,000, or 12 percent. Not bad at all.”
“One of the creditors even flew in personally to sign. I met him at the airport, and before we’d even shaken hands, he shoved the contract at me. Haha—”
“Did you file for liquidation with the court?”
“Of course. We went straight there and did it on the spot. Using a 363 sale, we separated the assets and liabilities and took only the valuable parts. From this point on, the rightful owner of Salmon Pink Birdeater Co. is none other than you, Mr. Lee.”
Salmon Pink Birdeater.
This company, which held the mineral rights to Wishville, would now become the forward base for developing both my oil field and my gold mine at the same time.
The funds, the corporation, and all the necessary preparations were in place.
All that’s left is to pull the trigger.
As I was thinking through all of that, Vito hesitated slightly before speaking again.
“But boss, there’s actually one problem.”
“A problem?”
“On paper, the acquisition is completely finished... but the situation on the ground is a little complicated. Um... how should I put this? I suppose you could call it a physical obstacle?”
“?”
Vito took several black-and-white photos out of an envelope and spread them across the table.
The pictures showed what looked like the plaza in front of the company I had just acquired.
The area in front of the company building was a complete mess.
In front of the tightly shut main gate, placards painted in red were strewn everywhere, and black scorch marks had spread across the iron doors in several places.
- PAY OUR WAGES! - 6 MONTHS OVERDUE!
- GO AWAY, THIEVES! - WE WON’T LEAVE!
- NO PAY, NO PEACE!
- 6 MONTHS OF SWEAT! - NOT A SINGLE CENT!
...
Workers on strike had set up camp around barrels lit with fire.
In their hands were steel pipes, wooden clubs, and old shotguns.
I nodded.
“A strike.”
It was a common sight in a recession.
Companies went under, and workers who had sweated for every cent were thrown out into the street without ever receiving their wages.
Vito nodded.
“Yes. The previous management ran off after withholding wages for six months. The workers don’t even know the company has already been sold to the creditors; they’re just occupying the plant to get the money they’re owed.”
“This doesn’t look like something a simple transfer of legal ownership will solve.”
“Should I send lawyers to issue eviction notices? Or call the sheriff? Since it’s an illegal occupation, forcible removal shouldn’t be difficult. Legally, we’re in the clear, one hundred percent.”
“No. If we do that, it’ll turn into a bloodbath. Once the sheriff shows up, they’ll resist even harder, and if someone gets hurt, public opinion will turn against us.”
“Then should we organize a negotiating team and deal only with a few of the protest leaders? It’ll take some time, but it’s the safer route. If we pay only some of them part of the back wages and stir up internal conflict, then slowly break them apart...”
At Vito’s suggestion, I shook my head firmly.
“Skilled labor is essential for mine development. They’re not enemies to drive off; they’re a resource we need to bring in.”
Truthfully, Vito wasn’t especially inhuman.
From the standpoint of a new company owner, if I bowed my head to every reactionary from the start, I’d be dragged around for the rest of my life—and, more than anything else, the labor costs I’d have to pay wouldn’t be small.
But I had no desire to turn this into a needless standoff.
I knew that treating workers properly was justice, and I also knew that a company that actually carried out justice would last longer in the end.
So my judgment was, in the purest sense, capitalist.
“I’ll guarantee one hundred percent employment succession. But there will be conditions I’ll present to them.”
“What conditions? I’ll go and deliver them right away.”
“I think it would be better if we went together. I’m the new president in name as well as reality, so I should show my face.”
Vito and Soren exchanged a glance.
By then, I had already picked up my jacket.
I placed a hundred-dollar bill on the table as Stephanie’s tip and headed for the café door.
Behind the counter, Stephanie stared at me with wide eyes.
It looked like she’d been listening carefully the whole time, ears perked, to every word I’d exchanged with the lawyers and tax specialists.
“I’m heading to Wishville right now. See you, Stephanie. Thanks for the coffee.”
Vito and Soren hurriedly gathered their documents and followed after me.
From behind us, Stephanie picked up the hundred-dollar bill, pressed it to her chest, and called out, “Sanha! You have to come to the reunion, okay? I’ll write to you!”