Silence Is A Fear-Filled Victim's Heart's Unwilling Demise... Let's Never Allow Silence To Be Our Heart's Willing Demise.

When the evil works of man crush the body, heart, mind, and spirit all around the world, let us not find ourselves passionately in pursuit of destroying the evil as much as we passionately pursue being the hands, feet, and voice of Jesus that give of ourselves to provide a place of refuge and healing to the hurting.

What if every church in America had a ministry to stand against modern slavery?

Slavery has not been abolished, it has been sanitized

A drone is often preferred for missions that are too "dull, dirty, or dangerous" for manned aircraft.”

PROLOGUE

The graffiti was in Spanish, neon colors highlighting the varicose cracks in the wall. It smelled of urine and pot. The front door was metal with four bolt locks and the windows were frosted glass, embedded with chicken wire. They swung out and up like big fake eye-lashes held up with a notched adjustment bar.

This was a factory building on the near west side of Cleveland in an industrial area on the Cuyahoga River known in Ohio as The Flats.

First a sweatshop garment factory, then a warehouse for imported cheeses then a crack den for teenage potheads. It was now headquarters for Magic Slim, the only pimp in Cleveland with his own film studio and training facility.

Her name was Cosita, she was eighteen looking like fourteen. One of nine children from El Chorillo. a dangerous poverty stricken barrio on the outskirts of Panama City. Her brother, Javier, had been snatched from the streets six months ago, he was thirteen and beautiful.

Cosita had a high school education but earned here degree on the streets of Panama.

Interpol, the world's largest international police organization, had recruited Cosita at seventeen. She was smart, street savvy, motivated and very pretty. Just what Interpol was looking for.

Cosita would become a Drone!

Der Deutsche fährt nicht wie andere Menschen. Er fährt, um recht zu haben.