Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Subject: The Evil That Men Do: The Most Powerful Man No One Ever Knew,
Part1

   Story Codes: Mg, Mf, first, oral, anal, rape, murder
Author: Candace Sawyer <UncleMicky1984@mail2world.com>

   ----------------------------------------------------------------------

   !!!WARNING!!!!

   This file contains sexually explicit material, which may include graphic
depictions of underage, nonconsensual and unprotected sex as well as
incest, adultery, and sodomy.  It is distributed on a website clearly
identified as "For Adults Only." Possession by a minor is strictly
forbidden.  If you are not legally empowered to be in possession of such
material, do not read it and delete it immediately.

   This work is copyrighted 2015 to the author.  It may be posted to
non-commercial "free" sites or in the "free" area of commercial sites so
long as no changes are made to the content and the Author information is
retained.  Any other use of this work is by written permission of the
Author only.

   Obviously, this is a work of fiction and no actual person, living or
dead is represented herein.

   This is the first of "The Evil That Men Do" stories; Enjoy!

   (Many thanks to our colleague Phil Gorman for his proofing and editorial
assistance)



   Aiden Breckinridge, Part 1

   The Most Powerful Man No One Ever Knew

   - Chapter 1

   It was almost midnight, at his nearly inaccessible and highly guarded
Swiss chalet, where Aiden Breckinridge was sitting in the armchair of his
bedroom sitting room.  He occasionally sipped on a snifter of
twenty-year-old cognac as he looked at the captivating nine year-old girl
asleep in his king-sized bed.  She was none other than the world famous,
and stunningly beautiful French child model, Yvette Devaux.  She lay with
her legs splayed open and her swollen, puffy labia glistened with his
pink-tinged semen seeping from her tender, abused pussy.

   International outrage erupted over the sexualization of little girls
when Divine Femme magazine dressed the gorgeous child in designer clothes.
Her hair and make-up were such that she looked like an irresistible,
provocative, child sex goddess: a virtual pedophile's dream.  When Aiden
saw the proofs, especially the nude stills taken of her being dressed and
prepped for each photo, he had the details worked out to have the budding
beauty snatched right out from under her parent's noses in broad daylight
on the streets of Paris before the issue even hit the stands.

   Thinking about all of the emotional and impassioned fallout that the
magazine layout caused, he chuckled, saying to himself, "Every fashion
house and clothing manufacturer in the world is sexualizing little girls.
Hell, I'm making billions of dollars selling all this prime, tender meat to
the millions who buy and use the little exhibitionists as fuck toys.  There
isn't a male over the age of thirteen who hasn't fantasized about fucking a
ripe, young, tender underage girl."

   Aiden Breckinridge was one of the most powerful men that no one knew
existed.  He was a phantom, an enigma with countless aliases, dummy
corporations and layers of protection that included the intelligence
organizations of every major country in the world.  He was a pivotal
kingpin in the world of international child exploitation and slavery. 
Looking at Yvette, he said, sotto, "Baby, I can abduct any person in the
world, at any time, for the right price.  I was offered a million dollars
for you by a Saudi prince with too much money to burn and a harem of little
girls so big he could fill a classroom.  Ma petite darling, J'ai d'autres
plans pour vous [My little darling, I have other plans for you]."

   He walked over and sat on the bed next to the sleeping beauty.  He
dragged his finger up her slit and gathered a globule of his semen on his
finger.  The girl stirred at the touch, but slept on.  Aiden deposited the
large pearl of congealed blood-mixed cum across her lips, and chuckled to
himself when she licked her lips in her sleep.  He stroked her cheek and
whispered to Yvette, "If you only knew the things I`ve done in my
lifetime..."

   He climbed onto the bed and lay next to her with his hands behind his
head as he looked at the ceiling and recalled his life.

   Even as a child growing up in the ultra-rich San Francisco suburb of San
Mateo, California, he was a privileged, narcissistic, selfish, and spoiled
brat.  He was also a highly intelligent child with a gift for languages. 
His father was a computer super geek in Silicon Valley.  Aiden started
watching porn when he was about six.  At the early age of seven, he
acquired his taste for little girls.  Their maid, Consuela Ramirez, was
like a second mother to him teaching him Spanish from birth.  That didn't
stop him from abusing her five year-old daughter, Carmelita.  It only took
him a month of playing and gently coaxing her in his bedroom before she
consented to letting him fondle and lick her pussy.  That escalated to
sawing his finger in and out of her back door.  That progressed to teaching
her to please his little two-inch dick with her mouth.  He'd seen his mom
and dad going at it many times and tried to penetrate the girl, but wasn't
big enough.  He did learn that he liked licking her pussy ?  and so did
she!

   In recollection, he thought, `I must have always had a super high
testosterone level' as he remembered that he got his first erection at
seven.  He would masturbate by rolling his little dick between his fingers
right behind the circumcised head.  When Consuela caught him with his dick
in her daughter's mouth, she quit and took his supply of little girl pussy
with her.  He then set his sights on little six year-old Sally Kendricks,
the girl next door.  He proceeded to carry out a three-year span of abuse
with her that began just like it did with Carmelita: fondling led to
licking the girl to a climax.  After that, it was easy to finger the little
blonde slut and fuck both her pussy and ass as he got older and his dick
grew.  Shaking his head with a chuckle, he mused `Boy, did that six
year-old little whore love it up the pooper!

   Looking over at the sleeping child next to him, he couldn't believe
that, even at forty-one, he was still captivated by little girls.  He
admitted to himself that he was a bona fide and confirmed pedophile.  He
gently stroked her tiny button nipple and the little beauty stirred again.
He leaned over and kissed the child on the lips.  She licked her lips and
turned over with her butt against his hip.  Just thinking of the evening's
earlier events, Aiden started thinking, `Wow!  You are a treasure,
Princess. Your uncle awoke your sexual self very well.  She had climaxed
twice on my tongue and, even after I claimed her virginity, she came as I
spewed inside of her tight, milking little cunt.  Yeah, you're gonna tell
Daddy everything, aren't you?'

   Returning to his introspection, Aiden surmised that one of the reasons
he was so successful at what he was able to accomplish in his forty-one
years of life was that he had always been honest with himself.  He never
tried to rationalize or make excuses for anything he had ever done.  At
every stage of his life, he knew he was a hedonistic pervert, a child
molester and a sociopath.  His success came from the fact that he used
those traits as attributes to succeed in the specific line of work for the
procurement and sale of young boys and girls.  He would, of course, keep
the crème de la crème, and sell the rest.

   He grimaced and fidgeted for a moment as he remembered his "darkest most
deviant and perverse period" of his life.  A period of progressively
extreme violence, from the age thirteen to eighteen, which almost consumed
him.  Being rich, fearless and feeling invincible, it all began with a spur
of the moment decision.

   Walking home from school one day, there was a densely wooded area that
adjoined a nearby elementary school.  Sometimes, kids would cut through the
woods to get home quicker.  There were quite a few trails, but an awful lot
of dense thickets of underbrush.  Kids would enter the woods
intermittently: a few here, then a couple later.  Aiden saw a cute young
auburn-haired girl with twin ponytails enter alone.  At first, he thought
she could have been around six, but then deduced a kid that young wouldn't
be walking alone.  Either way, he decided, on the spur of the moment, that
he was going to rape her.

   He caught up with her about thirty yards into the woods.  At thirteen,
Aiden was about five feet seven and weighed about one-twenty.  She was no
more than three and a half feet tall and maybe fifty pounds, if that much.
He played it just right.  He walked as if he was going to pass her.  She
turned and looked as he approached, but when she saw he was walking fast
and not really paying any attention to her, she turned back around and kept
walking.

   Aiden slowly opened his knife and, in one fluid motion, wrapped his hand
over her mouth and picked her up.  She started to struggle, but he showed
her the knife and told her, "If you make a sound or fight me, I'll cut you
open right here.  Do you understand?"

   The girl tried to nod, but was suspended by the head as Aiden held her
up with his hand covering her mouth.  He walked off the trail into the
woods and deep behind a thick wall of brush.  He put her down and reminded
her about yelling out.  He turned her around and, with the knife in her
face and asked her what her name was.

   "Jenny," she replied,

   "How old are you?"

   "I'm eight."

   "Well Jenny," Aiden said, "You and me are going to have some fun.  Now
remember, if you make a sound, I will cut you open and all your guts are
gonna spill out.  Do you understand?"

   Crying and trembling, Jenny nodded.  He then told her to remove her
panties and hand them to hm.  Shivering and crying, Jenny kept quietly
repeating, over and over, "No, no, please let me go, I won't tell anyone.
Please, no."

   Aiden shoved the blade in front of her eyes and said, "Do as I said."

   The little girl reached up under her dress and pulled her panties down
to her knees.  She let them slip down to her ankles, and then stepped out
of them.  She picked them up and handed them to her attacker.  He then told
her to lie down and she obeyed.  Aiden got down on his knees and told her
to open her mouth, which she did.  He shoved her panties into her mouth and
packed them in tight, telling her to breathe through her nose.

   He raised her skirt and stared at her bald little pudenda.  Jenny was
now sobbing as Aiden spread her legs.  He picked up her legs and pushed
them back against her chest, holding the knife to her face.  With the other
hand, he unsnapped his jeans, pulled them down and fished out his throbbing
member.

   Jenny screamed into her panties as Aiden buried himself in one forceful
thrust.  The adrenaline rush was so intoxicating that he zoned out as he
kept pumping into the little girl.  As Aiden recalled this dark event, he
couldn't remember how long he raped little Jenny.  All he remembered was
coming out of his trance just as he climaxed inside the little girl.  He
remembered slowly pulling out, and how he watched his cum slowly seep from
her and run down her perineum, as he buttoned up his jeans.  She just lay
there as if catatonic with her head turned to one side with a blank stare
on her face, her eyes devoid of any emotion or feeling.  She just laid
there with her legs splayed open and whimpering through her panties.

   The sickening feeling Aiden felt, when he callously just walked away
from his victim, returned as he recalled the event.  Quickly shaken by the
remembrance, he got up and went to the bathroom.  When he returned to the
bedroom, he sat back down in the armchair and picked up the unfinished
snifter of Cognac.  He looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand.  It
read three A.M.

   He looked at his little French pastry and saw that she had turned, with
her back to him, into a fetal position.  He couldn't see her little pucker,
but he remembered that before he fucked the budding beauty, he ate her
little puckered star and she even came with his tongue buried in the
pinkest little rosette he'd ever seen.  He shook his head and thought, `Why
did thinking about Yvette's pink, dimpled star remind him of her?'

   Scooting down in the chair, he began to turn back the clock again.

   Drifting back through time, he recalled that the disgusted, sick feeling
he had after raping little Jenny didn't last very long., He recollected
raping five more girls, over the course of the next four years, all from
the San Francisco area.  It seemed he was an equal opportunity rapist.  His
youngest of these was a little Latino girl about six and the oldest of
these victims was a fifteen-year-old Indian exchange student.

   Turning sixteen marked a violent downward spiral into the depths of
which Aiden would ever stoop in his life.  It all began with him getting
his driver's license.  His filthy rich daddy bought him a DE Tomaso
Pantera, and boy, was it a real pussy magnet!  He recalled feeling ecstatic
that he had become mobile.  Now, little girls had become an obsession and
he could collect his victims far from where he lived.  He remembered
thinking that being from an ultra-rich neighborhood, he had not had the
opportunity to sample a young black girl.  Well, guess what?  Now the hunt
was on!

   He went cruising through a middle class area of Frisco that he knew was
mixed.  He drove around looking for a lone, young black girl, but there
were none to be found.  Every time he saw a black girl, she was with
friends.  He headed towards a local area park and voila!  There, standing
on the corner, was a young, dark-skinned black girl about nine or ten, all
by her lonesome.

   He stopped and asked the girl for directions.  She was in awe that a
white boy in this fancy sports car was talking to her.  Being a little
street smart, the girl smiled, batted her eyelashes and acted coy.  She
asked him some questions about the car and Aiden saw this as his
opportunity to pick her up.

   He asked her if she wanted to take a ride.  At first, she was shy and
said she didn't think she should.  He agreed, with a smirk, and told her
she was probably too young anyway.  Well, that was a challenge any young
soul sister couldn't pass up!  She asked him, "Where we going?"

   He replied, "Oh, we could take a spin up into the hills and take in the
sights."

   "How long we gonna be?" she asked.

   "I don't know, maybe an hour or so.  Why, does your momma expect you
home soon?"

   "Nah," she said as she opened the door and climbed in.  "Okay, let's
go!"

   Aiden talked to her as he headed about five miles out of town to Coyote
Ridge Park.  He found out that she was ten, but she already had some nice
A-cup titties.  He never asked her what her name was; he didn't want to
know.  By the time they arrived at the park, Aiden was harder than a piece
of rebar.  He leaned over and rubbed the girl's bare shoulder.

   She pulled her shoulders forward in shyness at the touch and Aiden
reassured her and told her she was beautiful.  Being just average in looks,
the young girl ate it up.  He leaned over a little more and she took the
hint and turned to face him, He leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss on her
soft, warm lips.  The girl sighed into his mouth as he pierced her mouth
with his tongue.  Soon they were tongue dancing.  She was heating up and
her face was flushed and hot.

   When he tried to reach under her shirt to feel those perky titties, she
balked and grabbed his hand.  He sat back in the driver's seat and just sat
there for a moment.  She knew he was angry from the look on his face.  She
now realized that she was miles from home and started to get scared.  She
said apologetically, "I'm sorry, but I'm too young.  I ain't ready for that
yet."

   Aiden heaved a sigh, reached down along the seat, picked up the knife he
had hidden alongside the seat and pulled it up alongside his thigh.  Like a
pouncing tiger, he grabbed the girl by the hair, brought the knife up to
her face and said, "Well, guess what?  You're gonna let me feel those
titties and a lot more.  In fact, since you won't give it up, I'm gonna
take it all.  After I suck those luscious titties of yours, I'm gonna fuck
your little pussy and finish up by cumming deep in your ass."

   The girl started to scream, but Aiden brought the knife within an inch
of her eye and told her to shut up.  He told her to open the car door and
start to get out.  It was a chore climbing over the console and still
holding onto the girl, but he managed.

   He remembered that he'd made up his mind that he wanted to see this
black girl totally nude.  He made her kneel and then take her shirt off. 
He held her by the hair and only let go of her long enough to pull her
shirt off her head.  Then came the bra.  His excitement was growing by the
second as more of her body was revealed.  He had her stand and finish
undressing.

   He turned her around so he could feast his eyes on her dark brown flesh.
She was so dark, her nipples were black.  Fear, and near panic, had her
skin glistening with a sheen of perspiration.  Pulling her head back by the
hair, he leaned in and sucked her entire left breast into his mouth.  After
he'd sucked on it and chewed her nipple, he did the same to her right
breast.  He wanted to see her pussy so he made her lie down on her shorts
and spread her legs.  Being only ten, she still had the puffy, fat pussy
lips of a little girl, and her labia were darker than her normal skin
color. Aiden told her to spread her lips open and he was awed by the
contrast between her dark skin and the coral pink of the inside of her
crease.

   He pulled her up by the hair, had her grab her clothes and marched her
into the nearby brush where he crammed her panties in her mouth as a gag.
He then made her kneel and pull down his shorts, exposing his erect cock.
Just for shits and grins, he pulled her panties out of her mouth and had
her suck it for a minute or so, just to see her full dark lips wrapped
around his cock.

   He fondled her conical breasts, bent down and captured her right one in
his mouth.  Now, a quarter of a century later, Aiden could distinctly
remember the salty taste of her sweat.  He then remembered that he had her
lie on her shirt, hook her elbows behind her knees and pull them back
against her chest.  He knelt up and, with the knife held against her
stomach, swiped his dick up and down her slit a few times to wet it with
his precum.

   Aiden shook his head and then stood to go get another snifter of cognac.
As he poured the expensive brandy, he said to himself, "Yeah, as I looked
into her eyes, I fucked her good in both holes."

   After all these years, he still couldn't understand why, after he
bottomed out in her pussy, she just accepted the rape and obeyed him
without a word or struggle.

   Aiden slid down in the big, comfortable armchair and closed his eyes as
he again drifted back in time.  In his mind, his lowest and most psychotic
act was two days after his eighteenth birthday.  As the memory of that
fateful day came back, it dawned on him, for the first time, that his most
brutal crimes were crimes of opportunity, like eight year-old Jenny and a
six-year-old girl he anally raped in the bushes next to a playground.  They
were spur of the moment crimes.

   On that particular cool spring day, Aiden was walking past a Chinese
restaurant near Powell Avenue in San Francisco's Chinatown when he happened
to see a young Asian girl smoking a cigarette next to a dumpster in the
rear of a restaurant.  The way she was looking back and forth led him to
believe that she was hiding and sneaking a smoke and didn't want to get
caught.  He turned up the alley and smiled at her as he approached.  He
pointed to her cigarette and asked if she could spare a smoke.  She
nervously smiled and looked down to where she had the pack hidden.  He
grabbed her around the mouth, spun her around and almost snapped her neck.
He stood behind her with his hand around her mouth.  He placed the knife
against her cheek with the point right under her bottom eyelid and told her
if she made a sound, he'd slit her throat.

   She nodded that she understood and Aiden asked her, "How old are you?"

   "Thirteen, I'm thirteen."

   "You're too small to be thirteen." Aiden felt her small breasts through
her training bra and confirmed, "Yeah, you've got some little titties, you
might be thirteen.  Where do you go to school?"

   "Down the street on Powell at Francisco Middle School."

   He walked her over behind the dumpster.  With a quick, single slice down
the center of her back, he cut her dress from the neck down to her waist.
He told her "Pull your arms out and let it fall.  "

   She did as ordered, begging him not to hurt her.  As Aiden cut the
straps on her training bra, he reached around, pushed the knife up beneath
the bra in-between her small breasts and cut the material between the cups.
The bra fell silently to the ground.

   He turned her around as she shook with fear.  She had little half
lemon-sized breasts topped with small light brown puffy nipples.  He then
told her to drop her panties.  She was now sobbing, but trying in vain to
be completely silent.  After pulling them down to her knees, she let them
slip to her ankles.  Picking her panties up as ordered, she gave them to
him.  Using his age-old method of gagging, Aiden packed them tightly in her
mouth.

   After mauling her breasts and biting her nipples, he turned her and
pushed her down on all fours.  He grabbed her by her long, black ponytail
and violently thrust into her rectum.  Even with her panties packed in her
mouth, her scream could still be heard.  He knew he didn't have much time
so he pulled out and thrust into her vagina.  It took him four driving
thrusts to bury himself in the small Asian teen.  He then fucked her
mercilessly.  With each vicious lunge deep into her, his stabs became more
ferocious.  He yanked her head back with each savage thrust and, just as he
was cumming deep against her cervix, he jerked her head back very sharply
and violently, and he heard a sickening crack.

   Panting, he slowly pulled out of the girl trying to regain his breath
and focus.  He then realized the girl wasn't moving and when he let go of
her hair, she fell forward onto her face ...  lifeless.  When he looked at
her terrified face with her eyes open, he knew he'd killed her.  He puked
all over her back.  Aiden quickly put himself together and, covering his
hand with her dress, lifted the lid on the dumpster.  He picked up the dead
teen by an arm and a leg and heaved her into the dumpster, followed by her
clothes and then closed the lid.  He walked away and, looking around as he
exited the alley, saw that now one was in sight.

   Walking back to his car, he passed the very school his victim had
attended.  He realized that he was out of control.  He could no longer
control his impulses or even rape a girl without losing control of his
faculties.  He had to do something or he was going to get caught.  He
admitted to himself that being a pedophile and a rapist was one thing, but
being a murderer was another.

   After retrieving his car, he took a circuitous route home where he
passed a U.S Army recruiting station on the way.  At this point, Aiden
clearly remembered that he almost turned around to go inside and sign up,
but thought better of it.  He wanted to think this through.  It was his
impulse thinking that got him into these dark messes and he wanted to find
the best way to learn to control those impulses.

   - Chapter 2

   After a few days of serious thought, Aiden decided that the military
might be just what he needed to "whip him into shape." At the time, the
army base at the Presidio was still open.  He drove down to the Union
Square area near the base.  He stopped into a few of the bars and spoke
with a few servicemen about the army.  While chatting with an Army
sergeant, the man said to him, "I have to tell ya son, the Army kept me out
of prison.  I was a punk, a street thug; young, dumb and full of cum.  The
army taught me discipline, self-control and how to channel all that violent
energy towards a purposeful goal.  Namely, to go to faraway lands, meet
interesting people ..." and with a laugh he added, "and kill them!  All in
the name of the good ole' U.S.  of A."

   The army veteran added as he slapped Aiden on the back, "If you want
some direction in your life, if you want to make something of yourself,
sign up and the army will make a man outta ya."

   It seemed that fate was leading him towards the military.  That night,
as he contemplated on what to do, he was watching a TV documentary on
Carlos Hathcock, the famous American Vietnam War sniper.  As he was
watching, he said to himself, "That's it.  I'm going to join the army and
become a sniper with a Special Forces unit."

   After returning to the Presidio area the next day, he ventured back into
the bar where he first met the sergeant; he wanted more information on
Special Forces units.  The sergeant wasn't there, but a lieutenant was
willing to talk to him.  He was told that the navy had SEAL teams, and the
army had Green Berets.  The lieutenant quietly said that the army had a
Special Forces unit called Delta Force, but the U.S.  government didn't
openly acknowledge that they existed.

   A light bulb went off in his head: plausible deniability.  That's the
key to everything!  As he listened to this seasoned officer talk about
Delta Force, the officer said that people's perceptions would be the same
whether they knew the facts or not.  Perception is truth; proving it,
though, is a different matter.  Aiden felt that this was exactly what he
wanted his life to be: a phantom in the night, an illusion, and an enigma.
Joining the army and getting into Delta Force would provide him the
discipline he needed, the ability to control his inner emotions and remain
cool, calm, and collected in high pressure situations.  However, best of
all, he could operate covertly on black ops and the government wouldn't
even acknowledge he existed.

   He finished his beer, said thanks to the lieutenant and headed for the
nearest army recruiter.  When he told the recruiter that he wanted to be in
Delta Force, the sergeant remained stoic.  He first asked to see Aiden's
driver's license.  Upon verifying he was eighteen, he sat back in his chair
and with a smile said, "Well, if there was such a unit, and I can't say
whether there is or isn't; but, if there was, I guess the best way to get
in would be to kick ass and don't bother to take names in boot camp, but
keep your mouth shut.  Don't go braggin' about how big your balls are.  Let
your performance speak for itself."

   "Then, pick an MOS such as sniping or weapons specialist,
communications, or intelligence.  Being proficient in two of these areas
would get you seriously looked at IF, and I say if, there was such a unit.
Understand me son?"

   "Yes sir," Aiden saluted, "I understand completely."

   The sergeant knew that the job description "sniper" was one that was
earned after certain qualifications were met, but Aiden didn't know that.
He would put the boy in for the infantry.  Let him figure it out later. 
"Well then, let's see now...  we'll put your MOS down as 11B4 and see how
that flies, okay?"

   "What's that?"

   "Your job description.  You want to be an infantryman sniper, so you
wanna be an 11B4, right?"

   "Yes sir."

   "You asked for it, you got it.  Just sign her on the dotted line."

   Aiden signed the enlistment papers and handed the Sarge back his pen. 
He smiled and said, "Welcome to the U-nited States Army.  Uncle Sam now
owns your ass for 6 years.  You'll be getting your orders in the mail; but,
I can tell you right now, you will be posted at Fort Sill in Lawton
Oklahoma for basic combat training.  Remember now, IF the army was to start
some sort of Delta Force, and I wanted in, I'd be one gung ho motherfucker
from day one.  Just remember, don't get cocky; let your performance speak
for itself.  Got it?"

   Aiden saluted and answered curtly, "Yes sir!"

   Aiden's parents were a little shocked by their son's sudden decision to
join the military, but Aiden's father knew it would be a good thing for his
son.  Up to that point, he was just waiting for the phone call or knock on
the door telling him Aiden had been arrested, injured or was dead.

   From the moment he stepped off the bus at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, Aiden
embraced the army and it would leave its indelible mark on him.  From day
one, he focused all of his efforts, mental and physical, on succeeding and
being ranked number one in his graduating class.  It was in the army that
Aiden acquired his lifelong obsession with physical fitness and mental
toughness.

   True to his word, Aiden graduated first in his class of recruits.  Aiden
was noticed and fast tracked into the Special Forces program.  From there,
Fort Benning, Georgia would become his home for the next six weeks.  Aiden
Breckinridge spent the next two years getting what he most wanted: Namely,
assigned as a weapons and intelligent specialist with a Delta Force
Element, handpicked by the CIA for black ops.  It was as if fate was
steering him back to his deepest, darkest instincts; how he would handle
them would change the course of his life.

   During that time, there was a lot of saber rattling between President
George Bush and Saddam Hussein.  For all intents and purposes, there was
going to be a war.  Now, it was just a matter of when.  While he was in
Kuwait, waiting for that first covert mission, one thing became vividly
clear: men in this region of the world loved to fuck little girls and there
was an active slave trade.  That was common knowledge; but, no one spoke
openly about.
He was in intelligence.  Aiden used his knowledge of getting the right
intel and found a discreet, medium level trader named Abbud Haddad, who
dealt in little girls.  Aiden was able to "sample" a couple of the "items
for sale." His first taste of little Arab girl pussy was an olive-skinned
seven-year-old Iraqi girl.  He wasted no time in burying himself deep in
her ass.  Aiden shook his head remembering that he had cum harder with that
Arab girl than when he had fucked that little moo shoo pussy in Chinatown

over two years previously.

   His unit was being transferred to Riyahd, Saudi Arabia, in preparation
for the invasion of Iraq.  So, setting up shop with Abbud was a bust; but,
he did get the name of another trader in Riyahd by the name of Rajid
Mohammad, who had a female assistant, Saleema Sayed.  Once in Riyahd, Aiden
had a field day.  They were on standby until further notice.  Aiden had
plenty of time to come up with a plan to take advantage of his current
circumstances.  He contacted Mohammad and revealed his plan to desert the
army and get into the slave trade.  Pajid Mohammad saw this as an
opportunity to use Aiden, and his intelligence resources, to make some
serious money while avoiding the scrutiny of the military.

   Aiden spent his time developing a network of contacts within Saudi
Arabia, Syria and Iraq.  It was during the course of setting up his dark
network that he met two men: James Nadelmann, an NSA intelligence
operative, and Donald Silva, a CIA assistant section chief.  What brought
these three men together was their common taste for little girl flesh.  In
an astonishing three months, these two men helped Aiden set up one of the
most comprehensive and dark communication networks to conduct illegal
transactions throughout the Middle East!

   With Nadelmann and Silva's assistance, Aiden began formulating his plan
to fake his death and become a player in the local slave trade.  In the
beginning, he was only thinking about the prospect of living in the Middle
East, selling some girls and sampling their wares; but, the more
intelligence he gained, the higher he set his goal of becoming not only a
player, but a controlling kingpin in the Middle East slave trade.  When he
made his move, there wouldn't be a piece of pussy under the age of thirty
that didn't move without his knowledge or permission

   Aiden learned that the Middle East was the human trafficking capital of
the world.

   Iraq was becoming a center for trafficking in slaves, prostitutes, human
organs, babies, and illegal workers within the region.  There were reports
of women and children being sold off to Syria, Jordan, Kuwait, Qatar, the
United Arab Emirates, Turkey, and Iran.  There were also stories of
orphanages selling kids, and gangs selling boys inside and out of Iraq for
sex.

   Turkey and the Syrian Arab Republic served as important transit points.
Moreover, Turkey was a prominent transit country for heroin.  Some of the
countries which have been recorded as being destination countries for
victims of child trafficking included: Bahrain, Iran, Israel, Jordan,
Kuwait, Lebanon, Oman, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Syria, United Arab Emirates and
Iraq.  The trafficking victims entering these countries often times came
from Eastern Europe, Southeast Asia, South Asia, Central Asia, North Africa
and other African countries.

   In addition to being destination countries, a few Middle Eastern
countries were also transit countries, which meant that the victims of
trafficking moved through these countries while in route to another country
, either in the Middle East or often somewhere in Western Europe or the UK.
A few of these transit countries were Iran, Jordan, Kuwait, Oman and Syria.

   As unbelievable as it sounds, Arab traders were selling slave girls and
boys to Israeli customers!  Aiden wanted to control this kind of action! 
All of this activity went on right under the noses of the governments of
the region and thrived.

   Finally, after a few months of doing nothing, Aiden's unit was sent over
the border and conducted many unacknowledged black ops, where they took out
certain commanders and lookout posts.  Over a period of three weeks, Aiden
racked up a total of twenty-five confirmed kills.  Besides fucking a little
girl, there wasn't anything to compare to the adrenaline rush of drawing a
bead on a subject and putting a .338 Lapua Magnum slug from his M24E1
sniper rifle into some unsuspecting Mooj.

   While he was busy sniping for the U.S.  military, Aiden's friends in the
U.S.  intelligence community were locating a contact inside Iraq to help
with Aiden's disappearance once the fighting was over.  When Aiden returned
from two weeks in the desert, a search and destroy mission, Nadelmann came
through.  Amazing as it sounds, these traders and purveyors of human flesh
came and went with relative impunity across borders.

   In a meeting in King Khalid City, Aiden met a very big name in the
international child slavery industry: a man by the name of Anwar Mustafah.
Anwar was responsible for the entire operation of collecting the kids from
all parts of the Middle East and Southeast Asia and funneling them into
Turkey.  From there they were distributed to customers throughout Europe,
the United Kingdom, and the United States.  As part of his plot, Aiden
would divulge the location of his team.  Once captured, Anwar would safely
hide Aiden and fake his death.  Then, Aiden would assume another identity
and begin working for Anwar in his organization.  Little did Mustafah know
that Aiden, with the help of Nadelmann and Silva, had already planned
Mustafah's assassination.  Aiden would conveniently succeed Mustafah.

   Right before the invasion, Saddam was shooting scud missiles into Israel
and Saudi Arabia from mobile missile launchers.  Aiden's unit was tasked
with finding and destroying three of these launchers that drove around in a
particular area of the desert.

   Mustafah furnished Donald Silva with the information on where to locate
the last and most elusive launcher.  When Aiden's team made a covert
assault, Mustafah's men - not the Iraqi army - were there to greet them. 
They took the team hostage, and moved them to within two miles of the
Saudi/ Syrian border.  Saving Aiden for last, they "interrogated" each of
the team members and beat them up to make it look real.  After twenty-four
hours, they forced the rest of the Delta Force team to witness Aiden's
"execution." After the mock execution, Mustafah's men let the rest of
Aiden's team believe that their captors had made a tactical error and left
only one man guarding them.  The men concurred that it would be better if
they all got away, knowing that Aiden's body would not be recovered; every
one of them knew the risks when they signed up for these missions.  The
four remaining team members slipped away into the night.  They were picked
up at the Saudi border and returned to Riyahd.  They were then debriefed
and the report was filed by Nadelmann and Silva.

   Aiden Breckinridge, for all intents and purposes, was listed as KIA. 
The details were classified at level DODq13.  That level was higher than
POTUS'.  As far as the U.S.  government was concerned, his public military
record stated that E-6 Aiden Breckinridge got lost, wandered into an
unprotected zone and was killed during the invasion.

   The "war" lasted four days.  The U.S.  led coalition troops invaded on
February 24, 1991 and President Bush declared victory and a cease-fire on
February 28th.  Aiden couldn't believe his luck!

   Aiden spent the next six months in hiding in Iraq with an Iraqi linguist
named Imani Hakeem.  She spent the time administering a grueling
instruction course teaching him Arabic and Farsi.  She engineered
exhaustive, high-pressure situations where Aiden had to keep his composure
and speak with fluidity like a naturally born Arab.  When he emerged from
his cocoon, Aiden was ready to take the first step in becoming one of the
world's most powerful kingpins in the human trafficking slave trade.

   One month later, Aiden conducted his first sale of fifteen girls, aged
four to eleven, to a trader in Kuwait.  Aiden nurtured and cultivated his
communications and intelligence network.  He spread around the wealth and
with it, bought silence and loyalty.  Still using James Nadelmann, who was
now an NSA Region chief, he learned of a secret U.S.  plot to have the
president of Iran, Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani, assassinated.  Getting the
precise information on whom, when and where, Aiden entered Iran using his
own network.  Using his government issued M24E1, he assassinated the
would-be sniper himself.

   Once he leaked the fact that he, using the Arabic alias of Zakwan Aziz,
was the assassin who saved the Iranian president, he was given unrestricted
control of all slaves being traded within or transported out of Iran.  It
was less than two months later when he again received intelligence from
Nadelmann that anti-Assad rebels in Syria were planning to kill Hafez
al-Assad, the then president of Syria.  Two weeks later, after dispatching
another would-be assassin, he personally shot Anwar Mustafah, the Iraqi
slave trade kingpin, and his whore assistant Saleem Sayed, between the eyes
with a 9mm Beretta at close range.

   He now, in the span of two years, had taken control of all human
trafficking and slave trade in Iran, Iraq and Syria that moved slaves into
Turkey for export to the world.

   Aiden was now the most powerful and influential man in the underworld of
human trafficking.  He was also too recognizable.  Too many people knew
what he looked like.  Aiden's intelligence network, with the help of the
NSA and the CIA, had opened many more discreet and clandestine
relationships with many of the world's intelligence organizations.

   Although not publically recognized, or well known, the Chinese had many
American trained and well qualified plastic surgeons performing operations
for the wealthy, elite wives of the communist party members in China. 
Traveling on a Turkish passport, under the assumed name of Ammad Tabek, he
flew to Shanghai and had intensive maxillofacial surgery that completely
changed his appearance.  He also had fingerprint replacement surgery.

   Using a private jet, he returned to Turkey and ran operations there in
secret while he recovered.  When he recovered, he hired thirty American
mercenaries, who were former Special Forces or Navy SEALS, as his personal
security contingent.  He now only spoke through intermediaries, never
face-to-face.

   Sometime in early 1993, the U.S.  military created a totally private,
anonymous internet we called the "Deep Web." Two scientists, working with
the U.S.  Naval Research Laboratory, devised a method of using layers and
layers of encryption to obscure the data being passed back and forth.  This
method was labeled TOR (The Onion Router) because the layers of encryption
were like the layers of an onion.  The premise to surfing the web incognito
was something called "onion routing" because of the layers of encryption
that surround and obscure the data being passed back and forth.  If the
Deep Web is a masked ball, Tor provides the costumes.  It was a highly
elegant and effective creation, so much so that even the people who built
it didn't know how to break it.

   With James Nadelmann's ultra-deep connections, Aiden was one of the
first to begin to use this secret network to communicate worldwide with his
organization and contacts.  He also began sharing information, buying and
selling slaves, drugs, and identity information.  As part of his
negotiation with organized crime syndicates, he would offer access to this
secret underworld network.

   Aiden's confiscation of a top-secret resource that the U.  S.  military
had created for their private traffic would become the only conduit where
global criminals bought and sold their wares.

   Aiden's next target was closer to home: the United States.  He wanted to
use his leverage to become a major player, if not the player, in the U.S.
slave trade market.  But first, he had to train an organizational manager
to oversee operations in the Middle East.  He ordered his NSA and CIA
resources to locate and identify an organizational executive, preferably a
young attractive pedophilic woman who had a taste for young flesh.  Silva
found such a woman working in Washington, D.C.  for the State Department by
the name of Leyla Hosseini.

   Leylani was a native-born Iraqi who, as a naturalized American citizen,
earned a vital position within the State Department because she was fluent
in both Arabic and Farsi.  Miss Hosseini's job was to collect diplomatic
data from all of the Middle Eastern and African embassies, collate it, and
write a pre-analysis of the data.  Secretly, she also loved to train little
girls to be her toilet and personal slaves.  Aiden chuckled and shook his
head when he remembered seeing her dossier.  He specifically remembered
saying to himself at the time, "Oh well, it takes all kinds.  I never was
into shit, but watersports, every now and then, is fun to play.  It is kind
of erotic to see a little girl pee."

   By now, Nadelmann and Silva both had become highly positioned desk
jockeys in Washington.  They were very comfortable maneuvering around and
doing covert jobs at home, which was SOP for the U.S.  government.  The
U.S. has been spying on its citizens since the Hoover days.  Since the NSA
isn't scrutinized as closely as the CIA, James Nadelmann set a trap for
their intended female pedophiliac.

   There was a little-known BDSM Mistress by the name of Mistress Sasha who
lived in Bethesda, Maryland, a suburb of Washington D.C.  She "just
happened" to own a submissive eight-year-old girl who was very pliant and
could be trained as a toilet slave.  It was arranged that Mistress Sasha
would have her little eight-year-old slave girl "accidentally" bump into
Miss Hosseini at Starbucks in Falls Church, Virginia, near her home.  Over
a cup of Frappuccino, Mistress Sasha would make the apologies and
introduction, and then the trap would be sprung.  They knew that Miss
Hosseini wouldn't be able to keep her eyes off of the little girl, and
Mistress Sasha would naturally notice.  She would then reveal that little
Melody was actually her submissive slave.  Once Leylani's interest was
piqued, the little girl would be offered to the Iraqi woman to play with.
All this would happen at a CIA safe house, where everything would be
recorded.

   The plan came together like a script in a movie.  When Nadelmann, Silva
and Aiden met with Leylani, and she saw the video of herself squatting over
little Melody and pissing in her mouth, she about died!  Aiden chuckled and
said to her, "Oh my!  What do we have here, Leylani?  It appears to me that
you have a fetish for doing naughty things with little girls?  I could be
wrong, but that's what it appears like to me.  What do you have to say for
yourself?"

   Knowing she was caught, she sat back and admitted her guilt.  She
crossed her arms and answered, "Yes, as you can plainly see, I like to do
things with little girls.  What do you want?  It's obvious that I've been
set up."

   Aiden looked back and forth between Silva and Nadelmann and quipped,
"Boy, she's not only a lesbian pedophile, she's pretty savvy too!  Alright,
Leylani, may I call you Leylani?"

   She nodded.  She was one tough cookie.  She'd been caught performing a
criminal act that would land her in prison, and she wasn't even rattled. 
Aiden began again, "Well, Leylani, you're right, you have been set up.  I
am going to give you one chance, and one chance only, to either accept or
reject my employer's offer.

   "So, here it is.  You have certain organizational skills, an in-depth
knowledge of the Middle East, and a predilection for little girl flesh. 
You also appear to have nerves of steel.  If I was facing a prison term,
like you are, I'm not so sure I'd be so smug."

   She harrumphed and replied, "I grew up in Iraq.  We grew up living in
life or death situations.  If all you were looking for were to catch a
pedophile, I would already have been arrested, booked and sitting in a jail
cell.  What do you want from me?"

   "Have you ever heard of Zakwan Aziz?" Aiden asked.

   "Anyone who has any knowledge of the Middle East has heard of him.  But
does he really exist, or is he some pseudonym for an organization like the
mafia?  I mean, isn't he supposed to be the lord of child slavery in the
Middle East?"

   "The one in the same." Aiden said nodding.  "What kinds of information
does the State Department collect about child slavery?"

   "Just statistical information.  The U.S.  government is more concerned
about the political and religious climate than organized crime.  Al Qaeda
terrorist activity takes a front seat to child trafficking."

   "Wow, I'm impressed!  I've learned to never second guess Mr.  Aziz'
judgment and he was right about you.  He said that you have an accurate
view of international politics.  But, the reason we are here is that I am
about to make you the job offer of a lifetime!  There's no medical
benefits, or paid leave; but, the fringe benefits are unequalled anywhere
in the world!"

   "You're absolutely right in saying that the governments have their
concentration on other areas.  As a result, business has been good.  In
fact, it's been great!  It's been so good that Mr.  Aziz has decided to
take his organization global.  In order to do that he needs someone to
oversee Middle East operations.  That's where you come in.  With your
skills, he would expect you to oversee all business entering and leaving
the Middle East.  In return, you will live a luxurious life and you'll be
given certain amount of carte blanche when it comes to choosing your
playthings.  You'll be allowed a personal harem of five little girls.  Your
public job description will be Vice President in Charge of Middle East
Sales, for an oil drilling equipment company called `Zayt Enterprises,
Ltd.' Are you interested?"

   "Excuse me, if I seem suspicious, but when do I get to meet Mr.  Aziz?"

   "You don't.  No one sees Mr.  Aziz except me.  My name is Cameron
Bartlett and I am Mr.  Aziz' personal assistant.  You will communicate with
him through me via the DarkNet.  You will report figures of profits and
units moved either in or out of the Middle East every two days.  Any
decisions that need immediate attention, you will contact me by satellite
phone.  I will instruct you on the bookkeeping end of things.  You will
enforce his policies, including discipline.  That means anything except
execution.  Any hits will first be approved by him; so, you'd better have
the goods on someone before you recommend death.

   "Mr.  Aziz recommends that you go through intermediaries also.  The
fewer people that know what you look like, the less chances there are of
you becoming a target for assassination.  Again, you will live on a
luxurious estate in Cesme, Turkey.  You will continue Mr.  Aziz's standing
order to be on the lookout for the prettiest of those obtained for sale. 
Their photos and personal history will be forwarded to him through me.  You
may have your choice of any five of these girls that he does not choose to
keep for himself.  He does not care what your fetishes are, but you will
not be allowed to injure, maim or kill a child in your possession. 
Anything else, that doesn't exceed his orders, is your business.

   "You may take thirty minutes to consider the offer.  Do you have any
questions?"

   "This is a joke, right?  I mean the slave trade king of the Middle East
is going to hire me to oversee his entire operation in the Arab world, and
I can have a personal harem of five girls as a perk?  Who are these men
here?"

   "These men here are none of your concern.  The matter at hand is, do you
accept his offer or not?" S "What is the annual salary besides the perks?"

   "Five hundred thousand, or a bullet in the brain.  If there is any drop
in profits, variance or suspected embezzlement, your termination will be
fatally permanent."

   "I accept.  What am I supposed to do about my State Department job? 
They will want to have a detailed explanation as to why I'm leaving and
where I am going when I leave.  I handle a lot of sensitive information."

   "You won't need to resign.  You will meet with an unfortunate accident
and be killed in the parking lot of a Falls Church shopping mall near your
home.  You will then be given a new identity with a new birth certificate,
social security card, passport and driver's license.  Once you are
"buried," you will then be furnished with a one-way ticket to Istanbul. 
Any other questions?"

   "When will this all take place?"

   "You'll stay here for the next three weeks, in seclusion, until your
funeral.  Essentially, you will be dead by tomorrow evening.  You may keep
Melody to occupy your time.  It seems she is the adopted daughter of one
Ms. Latifa Ansari.  Well, now, how does it feel to be the mother of an
eight year-old submissive slave girl, Latifa?"

   "I think I'll simply love motherhood, Mr.  Bartlett."

   Going through Gregory Vaughn, another high-ranking pedophile, who Aiden
had furnished an "adopted daughter" to, Aiden was able to use assets from
the FBI's witness protection program.  Miss Leylani Hosseini was "murdered"
by a random act of violence.  A new identity as Latifa Ansari was given to
Leylani Hosseini.  Latifa, and her new daughter, moved to Turkey.  It only
took Aiden a month to train Latifa.

   While he was training her, Aiden formed several holding companies to
create an anonymous trail in acquiring several luxury estates in the U.S.
The first was in the exclusive Bradley Manor-Longwood enclave of Bethesda,
Maryland.  The second, a magnificent palatial estate in Atherton,
California, the most expensive real estate ZIP code in the entire United
States.  He thought it rather ironic that he now lived a mere 14 miles from
where he grew up.  After ten years, he had indeed returned home.
   Continued ..