Mirko knew that the liquor business was starting to really get off the ground now, but he wanted to make sure everyone was on the same page. Which meant sitting down with the crew and also tying up a few loose ends in New York. There were still a few different groups who were trying to make some cash off of the liquor demand. Not only that, they still had a few people in positions of power or influence who needed to get on the same page as Mirko.

All in good time though, he would have to start at step one....meeting with the crew. Some of them were involved in their own rackets so far and some were helping out how they could with the liquor business. Whether they were heavily involved with the liquor business or not, Mirko wanted to at least know what his members planned on doing. 

He walked out of his office and began to make his way downstairs, but he spotted one of his guards down by the front door. The guard had his pistol broken down and he was cleaning each piece as best he could. Mirko decided to stop halfway down the staircase and just yell down to him...

"Hey, go find Marchetta for me. I need him to come meet me in my office." The guard nodded as he quickly put his gun to the side. 

Mirko turned and made his way back upstairs to his office. His chair was the only thing he had splurged on when he moved into the new headquarters. His desk, bookshelf, safe, and other pieces of furniture had come from either excess at Distortion or the discount store up the road. It was better to save early on for more important things rather than splurge on fancy office furniture. One day he would upgrade, but that would have to wait. 

The bottom desk drawer creaked a little as he rolled it open. Inside was his favorite whiskey....one of his own recipes that he developed not long after getting to America. He poured a bit into a glass and then placed the bottle back where it belonged. With one more groan the drawer was closed once again. Next he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He tapped it lightly and one slid out as the chosen one to meet a fiery end. The flame caught quick and smoke filled his head space...

Marchetta opened the door and came into the room, "You need something boss?"

"Give me one second." He held up his finger as he put his cigarette down on the edge of his ash tray. 

Mirko turned the chair and got up as Marchetta made his way into one of the chairs on the other side of his desk. The bookshelf was cluttered with literature and paperwork. He scanned shelf after shelf....

"Ah....here it is..." He muttered to himself.

The chair cushioned his landing as he dropped back down into it and place the file open on his desk...

"So, these are some of the numbers I was running on our liquor business in regards to what we are most likely losing due to some of these smaller groups that are trying to cut into our profits. I've divided it up into what we could be making with each removal or merger of these groups." He picked his drink up and wet his whistle before continuing.

"The costs obviously go up a bit if we go for a full on removal since that means more man power needs to brought in, trained, and paid. Plus with our methods we do tend to destroy some of the equipment we could get from these groups in peaceful mergers." As he showed Marchetta the documents he remembered his cigarette was burning away on the ash tray. 

He reached over and grabbed it, but needed to tap a bit of the ash off into the tray before he lifted it up for a few puffs. His mind was racing with ideas and expectations on what they would need to get done and what the hopeful outcomes were...

"Oh I almost forgot. Let me get Jaspops over here. I think she is at the warehouse right now." He spoke with the cigarette flopping around between his lips.

The phone was on the wall behind him so he had to turn around to get it. Marchetta continued looking over the documents as he dialed the warehouse...

"Yeah, it's me. I'm looking for Jaspops......okay....well then give her a message for me when she gets back from delivery. I want her at my office as soon as possible. We have some things to discuss." He hung up the phone and place it back where it belonged. 

Turning back to Marchetta, "Okay, so what are your thoughts?"

Marchetta reclined on his chair with the pages on his lap, flipping through each attentively as Mirko explained their meaning in the grand-scheme of things. The big apple was actually bigger than one might think, and in this too, one would need a big jaw to make a bite worth noting: There were enough bootlegging "operations" around to make the task of overcoming them easily comparable to trying to plow the beach face right at it's swash. Up until this moment he had considered that much, but seeing the actual numbers now, really materialized in his mind the monumental undertaking that would have to happen in order to completely dominate a market that not only specialized in subterfuge, but also relied heavily on the "muscle-work" to get things running...

"Okay, so what are your thoughts?"

Marchetta looked up to his boss as he was brought out of his head and back into the humble office. He let out a short sigh and then, after reaching into the inner pocket of his long coat, he grabbed a pack of lucky strikes in an nonchalant manner, lighting up a thoughtful one. He had arrived in the States two years prior from the old continent to join his "family" on their new operations in the new world. But before that, before joining the Italian mob, before killing the cop who was sniffing too high on their operations and running away to the United States, he was the oldest son of a wealthy family of merchants in good ol'Venice, who paid good money for his education. His major? Economics.

"There are a few operations out there who are worthy of considering a merger. The bigger, profit-focused ones. But those are a small exception in the big picture. And we can't forget that our biggest competitors are also the small fishes who clutch to the city's demand unnamed, but not less competent."

Mirko's expression was unchanged, his associate wasn't exactly giving him any news or bringing an oversight into his attention, but he reclined in his chair and kept puffing on his cigarette while listening intently to what Marchetta had to say.

"Most of these fellas are desperate people, they lack the vision and would probably sell their own mother for a cheap steak. They aren't the trustworthy nor the easily pacified kind, and logistically we can't take on every major operation by force, that much is certain now. They won't respect us, the most we can achieve is fear in these grounds. And for that we probably need to brutalize the meanest group in the block first. I'm talking about serious violence like it hasn't been felt since the times of the Five Points gangs."

Mirko tilted his head slightly but his associate was quick to add.

"Look, I might be coming off a bit too pragmatic on this, it's just that we both know we will not be able to control distribution past half the demand for at least another three years. After which we will probably continue to halve upwards slower, up until we stagnate profit growth. Which is not bad considering that:" He looked down to the papers and flipped some pages back to the total numbers. "We're talking about close to 4 million bucks in three years time." He looked back at Mirko and shrugged. "Let's control demand instead."

At this moment a knock on the door was heard. Which was probably Jaspops arriving at the office.

Jaspops wanders in through the door just as she hears Marchetta mention controlling demand. She was extremely confused. "Demand? Demand for what?" She was called away from a huge profitable deal so this must be important. Lighting up a cigarette she sits herself down in the chair, places an ashtray by her side, crosses her legs and leans back with an intrigued look across her face. 

"Go on then, who is going to explain why I had to drop everything and attend this unplanned meeting at short notice?" Jaspops was a little disgruntled. She'd been eager to complete this business deal for 10 months but nothing a whiskey wouldn't help with as Marchetta poured and handed one to her.

After listening to the debrief, Jaspops agrees with Marchetta. "I feel we will get a better response by dealing with the control of demand rather than going in over our heads and not having the manpower in the end. What do you think Mirkle?  

MirkoFritzinger looked as Jaspops as she called him Mirkle. She looks back.. "What..? It sounds like a wizard and you remind me of a wizard. Jaspops giggles. Realising there is a time and a place, she takes another puff of her cigarette and lets someone else talk. This was not her department  but of course, since she had to be there to handle business if Mirko wasn't,  she had to know what was going on at all times. 

"We need to maintain good connections and working relationships. Try to do this in a manner of not upsetting as many as possible. This is our future and without custom there is no business." Jaspops looks to Mirko..