“Indeed,” Swift agrees. “We set up reverse image searches on the clearest pictures we could get from the videos. These were the ‘before’ pictures if you like. Believe me, you wouldn’t want to see the after.”
Beside her, Bolt shudders, and I have new respect for the members from Utah who’d presumably forced themselves to watch.
“So who are they?” Prez asks.
Swift doesn’t tell us immediately. “As you can imagine, risks are taken when creating these videos. The subscription fee is exorbitant to cover those costs. For someone willing to stoop to that level, the rewards are there to be reaped.”
“By someone?” Dart asks. “The photographer?”
“Photographers, models—if you can call them that—and I don’t mean the kids. I mean the men, and some women, who are the molesters. Then there’s the production factory and distribution. There’s good money to be made.”
She glances around the table, then continues, “Devon Starr probably wanted to buy in. But to do that, he had to have something he could offer. There are hundreds of thousands of videos on that site, and hundreds of people making videos, some with adults, some with children. But this set, well we think it’s how Devon got his way in.”
When Swift pauses, Bolt takes over. “The images I’ve just shown you are unaccompanied children who either made their own way over the border or got separated from their adults once they were here. We believe Devon has a network pushing these underage kids his way. Maybe criminals, maybe even border agents wanting to make good money on the side. Whatever it is, they disappeared when they reached California.”
Swift lifts her chin at Bolt again. “What Devon could offer was untraceable victims who no one really cared about.”
“I care.” Lost’s hand slams down onto the table. “I fuckin’ care. No kid, from wherever, deserves to be molested like that.”
I stand, my chair flying over backward. “Where’s Devon now?” I yell down the table. “Give me a location and I’ll go take him down.”
“Easy, Brother,” Swift comes back fast. “That’s what we all want. But taking him out isn’t enough. We need to shut down whatever pipeline he’s got going. It won’t just end with one photographer. Now we’ve found this, we’ve got a good chance ending this shit. And by that, I mean destroying the porn site and everyone facilitating it.”
“We’ve already got a comprehensive list of all the subscribers.” Bolt grins. “When we’re ready, we’ll leak it to the feds.”
“Why Grumbler’s kid?” Salem asks as I pick up my chair and sit back down. “Alicia’s ordeal was horrible, but not in the league you’re talking about. What did Devon want with her?”
Swift’s eyes catch mine. “We got into Owen’s text message history. Seems Owen wants to do some extra modelling for Devon. It seems he obliged, apparently. On this occasion, Devon had seen the way Alicia had been looking at Owen and suggested he could use her. He told him to groom her, though those words weren’t used exactly. Devon’s clever enough to steer clear of saying too much in text. Again, he didn’t go into specifics, just told Owen to get him something juicy. Alicia was just one of his auditions.”
I go cold. “So it could have been worse?” I ask through gritted teeth.
Swift’s eyes meet mine, but she doesn’t say a word. I wipe my hand over my face thanking a deity that Owen didn’t do more.
“We’d like to talk to Owen,” Bolt drops in. “See what else he knows.”
There’s silence around the table. I’m opening my mouth when Lost admits, “Owen’s dead. We didn’t want him breathing our air.”
Swift closes her eyes and her mouth moves. I think she’s counting to ten. When she speaks her voice is even. “We can take the servers down and destroy the videos. We can get the feds onto the subscribers and freeze all the assets of the fuckers running this show. But we can’t stop the key players starting this business up again. Not unless we can trace them, and so far, we have no leads.” She pauses, and glances around the table. “We need this photographer of yours. He’ll have the contacts, or at least some of them.”
Bolt takes over. “We need Devon. This is a crime that crosses state lines. The subscribers are nationwide as far as we can tell. We need leads to leak to the feds, and that’s not going to go well unless we also hand over Devon.”
And there’s the punchline. I’m not going to be given the pleasure of killing the man I hate down to the marrow in my bones.
Swift reads the expression on my face. “Grumbler, I know how you’re fucking feeling. I want to tear this wanker apart, limb from limb. Would it help if I promised we’d trace the penitentiary he ends up in and get him taken out inside?”
“How can you promise that?” Salem asks. “Depending on what the feds make of his crimes, he could end up anywhere.”
Swift seems unconcerned. “We can. We will. He’s as good as dead already. But we’ve got to find him first. And, for that, we need your help.”
“I thought you usually flew your lot in when you were on a mission?” Dart is shaking his head. “You normally do the track and trace work yourselves. Why not this time? Why come to us?”
“Because,” Lost glances at his VP, “they’re trying to prove they’re team players. Have I got that right?”
Bolt and Swift look at each other, then Bolt raises his chin. “We wear the same patch,” he confirms. “I have to admit, maybe Utah got arrogant, but in the technical area, we are the fuckin’ best—no disrespect Token.”
Token gives a dismissive wave of his hand. “Heard about your setup, Brother. You’ve got the computing power I can only dream of. No offence taken.”
Swift takes over. “That raid, when,” she pauses, gritting her teeth, “Stormy took out Alder.” Another beat passes while she waits for the reaction she knows she’s going
