“…We are all children of blood and bone. All instruments of vengeance and virtue. This truth holds me close, rocking me like a child in a mother’s arms.”
“Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, blood and Revenge are hammering in my head.”
“…Lean men with shaven heads and blank, implacable eyes, they were God’s gunmen, and would stare, as such, from all the tapes of history, forever.”
A corrupt Minneapolis real estate investor has, since the Super Bowl and Final Four, managed a growing number of AirBnB properties that serve as low profile brothels. He’s a national level money launderer in real estate and construction, who started off taking a portion of his profits as sex on demand with teenage (and younger) girls trafficked through the Twin Cities. The profit to risk ratio with human trafficking is a fraction of what it is for narcotics — and he can still launder money with fake renters and AirBnb while his people move women, girls and boys from house to house and rent them till they bleed.
He maintains a lucrative sideline with multiple advantages — his best houses have hidden sound and video recording systems that capture — in living color — the activities of some very wealthy and highly placed individuals as they partake of his human trafficking products.
He’s a fat spider in the middle of a gigantic web that stretches from Chicago to Sinaloa, with a hard drive full of video that makes him, well, untouchable.
Until he pisses off a 18-year old girl with dangerous friends.
Two old and battered and very lethal retired Marine Force Recon Master Gunnery Sergeants.
And now, things get a little Salty.
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