New Historical Fiction Premiering On Steemit - Common Interests: A 9/11 Novel - Chapter 12
Historical fiction surrounding the crimes of 9/11. In this chapter, The Lolita Express gets into the collage of criminality as our sordid tale continues.
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This is a fictional narrative wrapped around the real crimes of the September 11, 2001 attacks and the 2008 financial crisis. A smattering of other real events, institutions, entities, and people have also been included.
Chapter 12
The Lolita Express was flying high. Music pulsed in the sky. Champagne flowed and blow rocketed up plastic noses. This was Jeff Epstein’s flying palace of shame. But he was a billionaire. He was untouchable.
Jeff was on sensory overload. He hadn’t slept in well over 24 hours. Narcotics continued to fuel the pedo fire that raged in his core.
A couple of doped-up teenage girls were passed out naked on the floor. Needle tracks littered their arms. They had already had their turn with the men more than twice their age. They had taken the punishment with a numbed acquiescence. Now they could have a few moments of drug induced slumber. It was the only poor excuse for peace they could find in this evil world they had been born into.
How did they end up here? A country is torn by ethnic strife. Powers the young girls will never understand exacerbate the situation. War breaks out. Hell breaks loose. One thing leads to another. The UN and NATO “peace keepers” move in and take over. Defense contractors come in to reap the rewards. The young and the beautiful get scooped up, drugged up, sold off, and fucked til they die. The broken and butt ugly are sold off to be human guinea pigs for a colorful array of new pharmaceuticals. The TV told the world that the war was over and that peace keepers reigned in Bosnia.
Not for these girls. The war had ended but their hell continued in a different form. Now they weren’t dodging bombs but taking various missile shaped objects into their body against their will. They were the unseen and unheard spoils of war. And billionaire pedophiles were their new masters.
Epstein’s eyes raged with pleasure. His thrusts continued violently and sweat poured from his pores. His latest victim was pinned helplessly against the wall. She had her sunken almond eyes closed and offered no resistance. Her mind was blank from the drugs. She couldn’t cry if she wanted to. Her heart was week. She was about as lifeless as a person with a pulse can be.
The freak that was invading her didn’t care. His inhuman and deviant nature wouldn’t allow it. He loved young girls. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t know her name. He never knew the names of his victims.
Epstein’s thin face and glazed eyes took a peek across the luxury jumbo jet and saw a blurry picture. Jeff wondered who it was for a vague moment. The mind that had helped him to make billions was fading to black. Then it came to him. Oh yeah, that’s Peter Soros. His partner in lustful crimes. A fellow financial agent of chaos.
Jeff threw the girl down. The teenage girl he was screwing fell limp to the floor. The last thing he saw before passing out was a tattoo on her back which read “MIA”. Peter kept on fucking. The pilot didn’t look back and didn’t ask any questions. The Lolita Express raged on.
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