To: Arnold “Smitty” Schmidt, Lawrence, KS

From: Your eastern friends, St. Louis, MO

February 10th, 20+6

Smitty-

Hey, buddy. Been a while since we heard from you. Been laying low lately? Can’t say I blame you. Things blew up pretty good around there, huh?

Word got to us about Biggs’s fuckup. His own range, his own backyard and he can’t run good product past the local yokels without his operation getting found out, and by a bunch of Nebraskans of all people. I’d say it’s a shame, really, but I don’t think that. What little I heard about old Biggs through the grapevine matched up pretty well with the real life version. Only met him once in St. Louis, just before he took over in Lawrence. Seemed like such a clever guy. Obviously totally lazy, and a dick to boot, but clever nonetheless. Not surprising, that shit catches up with you. Heard it was Petey that sold him out. Ha! Always thought Petey was Biggs’s little bitch. Definitely wasn’t good for business anywhere, but good on him for getting out and taking down Biggs with him.

The muckity mucks in Cleveland are peeved about this development, of course, but don’t really want to start any shit down your way. They’ve had enough trouble lately fending off the long arm of the law. Some folks up in Cleveland and Columbus are starting to really and truly reconstitute the local governments, and they’ve got some serious muscle at their disposal. One of the extended operational bosses in Chicago actually got strung up last spring! So, the head honchos can’t afford to move any people into your range any time soon, if ever. They’ve actually been talking about reworking their game plan, shifting the “mission” of the entire organization. Swear to god I was there when one of them dumb bastards used the word “mission statement”. Who in the hell talks like that anymore? Of course, they think I’m just some jerkoff leg, but I bet half a Folgers can of dope (good stuff, not that ditch weed you grow out west) I went to a better business school than he did, and I can recognize MBA-speak when I fucking hear it. No idea how a twit like that made it so fucking far up the totem pole. Chances are he’s in someone’s extended family.

Speaking of families, there’s also been way way too much inter-syndicate violence the past couple of years. Our syndicate and the ranges therein are all run by Poles. Don’t know whether you were aware of the fact. Guess it doesn’t matter so much. But they’ve had several run-ins with the Chicago mob, the Italians. Our syndicate takes out a couple of their boys a year, at the very least, and vice versa. (Ours – yeah right. I’ll never be more than a hired hand. A couple of the real assholes have started calling me Tonto – one of the main fucking reasons I’m writing you.) It racks up, man. Add to those bodies the mistaken hits that get made – the information network ain’t what it used to be, obviously – and the poor dopes who have to get put out to pasture because they saw a beatdown or a deal or just about anything they weren’t supposed to see, and we’re talking serious body counts.

Don’t it make you wonder, sometimes – is there still a Poland or an Italy? Should we make a trip across the pond and start some shit with the locals there, just like old times but in reverse? We’d probably best start with the Portuguese. Heh.

Really, this whole government resurgence thing is our own fucking fault. Well, the bosses’ – yeah, you’d better believe I’m passing that buck up. (Ain’t one of them who’d think twice about blaming me for some fuckup.) With so many of the abovementioned sloppiness, all the outright violence and the general ill-will towards the syndicates – can you blame them, for the price we charge just to get letters from A to B?) – it’s no fucking surprise these sad sacks finally started saying enough is enough.

Anyway, it sounded like they’re pretty serious about changing things. First off, they’re talking about making deals with the new-forming governments. Shit like normalizing the ranges and running them under some kind of semi-official, semi-commercial arrangement. Taking almost all the”profit motive” – yeah, what little there is, right? – out of this gig. They fucking just don’t realize the kind of risks that we take day in and day out. I think it’s really a cover story the bosses are pushing. They might actually put some structure into this operation to get on the good side of the law, but they’ll keep the margins on their services as high as they can get away with. If the bosses are good at one thing, it’s obscuring their profits. Even I don’t know how much our syndicate clears per parcel delivered. I know roughly the average of how much it costs, but the profit remains a mystery, and I’ll bet that’s just how they want it.

There has also been talk of the more profitable side of things also falling under the government banner. Couldn’t begin to tell you how that might play out. I think it’s just talk to leak to the farmers, to try and get them against the side of law and order. Legitimizing the products farmed by syndicate operations would have a big negative effect on a lot of these farms, and I mean a lot. Hell, you should see half the countryside here in late spring. Looks like blankets of red draped over everything. I expect they grow opium not just in Nebraska but Kansas too, yeah? Ever get sleepy making a run on the yellow brick road? “Poppies!” Ha ha sorry – it was too obvious a shot to not take. You still remember that movie? Seems like it’s been forever since movies and all that other stuff. Well, anyway, I might be reading too much into how and why word of this is getting around so much.

This is all relevant to but not really what I’m writing to you about. What these wanks really don’t understand – and that, oddly enough, these redneck cornshuckers, hog callers, the settlers of old and other assorted rubes DO get – is that there really is no “legit” any more except for the promise and occasional deliverance of fatal violence that doesn’t gain anyone anything. Wait, scratch that last part about not gaining anyone anything. But listen: no gold standard, no ISO-based organizations, no fucking metric system (except for our bikes), no nothing but fists. Impossible to tell who we have to thank (or curse) for that, but the fact is that it’s the way things are. Maybe it still was the way when we had internet and the UN and all the other bullshit, just obscured enough that no one really thought about it much.

Sorry, I’m ranting. Been smoking a bit much this evening. Anyway, here’s the deal. It’s me and three other guys: Monty, Hal and Sean. You know Monty and Hal. They were a couple years ahead of us at Haskell. Crazy knobs, not that bright but... yeah, just crazy, pretty much. Sean’s of Irish descent but he’s still a good guy, originally from northern California. He’s the idea guy.

Here’s his idea: we ride west out of St. Louis, pick you up in Lawrence and keep on towards the coast, working odd jobs, pilfering if necessary. Once we get to Colorado we turn north to avoid Denver and Colorado Springs, and go through Fort Collins. Keep on north to Cheyenne, maybe score a few horses – beats pushing yourself, yeah? – then turn west again and ride all the way to Salt Lake City. Pick up supplies on the way and turn northwest. Head up through Idaho to Pocatello and then Boise. Sean says there’s hot springs somewhere in Idaho that we could rest our sore asses in. What the hell ever, I say, just give me some dope. After a few days or however long we feel like staying in Boise (why more than a day or so, I don’t know – maybe there’s some willing chicks there?) we head west again, straight through the middle of Oregon. Stop for a bender in Bend, then head onto Eugene. Sean says that Eugene is a soft little town near the coast, and some of Monty’s people (Coquille) live near there, like right on the coast. Perfect for hanging our hats, raising a little bud, fishing for salmon. And if not, hell, we can always go on from there, north or south. Oh, say you’ll join us. It’ll be so fucking fun, just like the Haskell days... except with a little more drug abuse and maybe violence. Hee hee hee. If you won’t, don’t take our reaction personal, OK?

See you soon, buddy. Red Bill, Three-spoke Monty, Hal B. and Sean Mac