Just as Henry and the others set off on an impromptu RV road trip, Red Guardian Alexei Shostakov, who had exposed himself at several fixed locations, finally saw the coded mark he had been waiting for on a street corner in Brooklyn.
Late at night, he entered the factory district. Due to the wave of globalization that had risen at the end of the last century, many highly polluting, labor-intensive industries in the United States had moved to regions with lower labor costs, leaving many domestic factories shuttered.
The disappearance of the blue-collar class was even celebrated by Wall Street elites, who saw it as proof that the nation had advanced to a higher level. They could also invest their capital in more profitable upstream industries or industries that controlled core technologies, making even more money in the process.
Yet agriculture was fundamental. When a country had no agriculture of its own and its food was controlled by other nations, it could hardly blame them for squeezing that lifeline however they pleased.
And those whose skills were insufficient to move upward were forced onto the streets or into illegal work. The consequences of industrial relocation were gradually emerging.
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It was simply that not enough people in this era recognized this yet. Or perhaps some did see it, but did not dare become whistleblowers and tell the world that disaster was looming. Most people were still celebrating; not enough people had starved to death yet...
In any case, the desolate factory district was cold and deserted late at night. At its peak, workers had once labored enthusiastically here around the clock in three shifts. Now, not many factories even operated during the day, and most of the buildings had been abandoned.
Meeting in a place like this late