Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
An avenging gleam lit the older woman’s eyes. “Oh, I do. Time to drive a stake through this monster’s heart.” Then she raised the mic again. “Give Madison a round of applause for her courage in coming forward. She did a great job.”
The audience cheered and whistled for her. She waved, then pressed a hand to her heart in the face of their understanding and approval.
Then, with a smile, Genie carried on. “This is a great day for the truth. If you hadn’t already guessed, none of Todd’s escapades would have been possible without at least the implied approval of Senator Pershing. In fact, he’s not only taught Todd to navigate the DC swamp, but he eventually paved the way for a business that netted them both millions of dollars over the past seven years. When I examined Brent’s computer, with a lot of help from my new favorite tech guru”—she waved at someone in an AV booth Madison recognized from sheer size as Trees—“I found the entire scheme. It took me a while and some expert help”—she glanced at Matt, who tipped his hat—“to understand. But here’s the gist.”
Genie flipped to the next slide, revealing a spider web of shell corporations and a perplexing pattern of money transfers that, when whittled down, led directly to Todd and Brent. From there, she revealed a slide like a family tree with the boys at the top. Below them, was a quartet of “handlers,” who moved the “product” from the border to DC. Below those four were a dozen agents stationed at various borders and crossover points, all on the take. At the bottom were a small army of hired thugs and coyotes who pinpointed impoverished victims, mostly from small villages or migrant caravans all over Central America and Mexico and plucked them from their homes and families. Genie produced a dizzying array of communication records, text messages, and electronic files of “purchases” and the staggering amounts these young, attractive victims fetched.
“Everything I uncovered is beyond horrible. And I know this is a lot of data, but if you’ll bear with me for a few more minutes…”
Madison looked over at the chalky newscaster. His screen now showed over three million viewers. She held in a whoop of joy. There would be no way for the press to bury this story. No way for the Pershings to pay anyone off to silence it. This scandal would be so well-known, so widespread, the president wouldn’t dare use his power of pardon.
Winston, Todd, and all the Pershings were going down.
“Here’s an example of the most recent delivery. My associate and his colleague found some perplexing numbers in Todd Pershing’s hidden floor safe.”
Todd’s what? Madison reeled. She’d lived in that apartment for over two years and was just finding out he had a hidden safe?
Genie showed pictures of a scrap of paper. “On this side, they found coordinates that led to a rural stretch of road just outside a ranch in McAllen, Texas. The adjacent property belongs to a rancher who had been complaining to local and federal authorities for a while—to no avail—that he had evidence, including the skeletons of children, that coyotes were using his land to transport people.” More pictures flashed on screen, including a heartbreaking box of small bones. “The coroner believes these to be the remains of a seven-year-old girl. Seven. Let that hit you. She was taken from her family, intended to be enslaved for some disgusting pedophile’s pleasure, but somehow died instead. She was left to rot in a cardboard box.”
The audience visibly recoiled. More outraged murmurs resounded.
“On the other side of the paper, we found a three-digit number. We didn’t figure out the code in time. But we ran into a bit of luck when my colleague’s coworkers were already investigating the rancher’s issues and intercepted another delivery on Thursday night at those coordinates. Belatedly, we realized the number two hundred forty-two corresponds to August thirtieth on the Julian calendar. Our friends were thankfully in the right place at the right time. Since then, some local arrests have been made. More of the coyotes have been picked up. The dirty border agents and the handlers are being apprehended now. After today, I’m sure Todd Pershing will find himself under investigation, as well as the senator who just last week spearheaded an effort to kill an immigration bill that would have included stringent clauses to protect children from being trafficked. Ask yourselves why he would do that. Because he benefits financially if the bill died. On the stump, he’s claimed that more people should have access to the American dream. It sounds nice, right? But no one’s American dream is being abducted and raped.”
The crowd all shook their heads, looking shocked and disgusted and ready to lay blame. They turned their dangerous gazes on Winston and Todd.