text:
LI Books / Homepage
Justice, Inc : His Business is Revolution. And Business Is Good.
By David M. Swindle October 25th, 2017, 13:21 EDT
This fall Liberty Island debuts the start of a new sci-fi action-thriller series by J.P. Medved. Justice Inc. will both thrill readers with its high-paced, inventive adventure, but also challenge them intellectually to imagine the future world where private armies dedicated to the values of freedom conflict with the agendas of big government insiders banking on maintaining a status quo that keeps dictators in power.
Tough, brash, and resourceful, former Army Ranger Eric Ikenna is the CEO of the powerful, private military corporation, Justice Incorporated.
But when his company successfully topples the government of South Sudanese dictator and international war criminal Ahmed al-Bashir, Eric and his operators suddenly become public enemy number one for a very deadly, very secretive branch of the United States government.
Because what Eric doesn't realize is that the world order is surprisingly fragile, and there are those who would kill to maintain it.
The ensuing struggle, from the marble halls of power in Washington, D.C., to the bleak waters of the North Atlantic and the tropical savannas of South Sudan, will force Justice, Inc. to use every tool and weapon at its disposal, and will test Eric to the breaking point.
And as advanced as it is, even Justice, Inc.'s high-tech arsenal of bio-ceramic body armor, semi-autonomous drones, and invisible, stratospheric artillery may be no use against an enemy just as sophisticated, and much more ruthless.
With time running out and the international balance of power at stake, Eric must decide between his principles, and the lives of his friends and employees.
Combining bleeding-edge technology from tomorrow's wars with heart-pounding,nonstop action, Justice, Inc. is a geo-political military thriller and the first novel in the Justice Incorporated series.
Prologue: Mergers and Acquisitions
His Highness, the Holy and Mighty Emir, trembled. Another explosion rocked the subterranean bunker. Dust settled slowly on the emir's robed head and on his hands, which shook, knuckles white around the grip of a chrome pistol. The .45's custom mother-of-pearl handle with inlaid rubies was striking and showy, but did not afford good purchase for the emir's sweaty fingers.
His chosen palace guards, what remained of them, huddled around the bunker's entrance. Each man anxiously fingered his automatic rifle as he peered over the upturned tables and other hastily arranged fortifications. The solid gold skulls on their lapels, symbols of the elite force, were askew, as if hurriedly pinned. The pins' grinning visages were intended as an unsubtle reminder to a cowed populace: this is what will happen to you should you resist my will. The blood-red garnets set into the eye sockets flashed darkly through the falling dust and the swinging electric lights above.
One more explosion shook the miserable inhabitants of the bunker, larger and more cacophonous than the last. The Courageous Emir, the Lion of East Africa, Instrument of God's Wrath, and Scourge of the Infidel, crouched on the floor behind his guards and flinched.
Finally there was silence. It stretched out long enough for the emir, against all the evidence he had seen over the last day, to hope. His air force must have arrived; the tanks from his garrison would even now be rolling down the streets, having repelled the mysterious invaders. He looked expectantly at the radio set on the table behind him. Its red call light remained stubbornly dark.
Then he did hear a noise. It was slight, just barely on the edge of his perception, but growing louder. It was a sizzle, like the sound of something frying. He looked fearfully toward the two-ton steel door that sealed off his bunker from the rest of the palace. The Swiss contractor who installed it had assured him nothing short of industrial-grade cutting lasers could get through that door for days, weeks even.
He'd been wrong.
The door blew inward in a blinding flash, molten steel and metal shards peppering the room like a shotgun blast. The emir was knocked onto his back. In his shock he thought he heard screams. Two more explosions filled the room with smoke and thunder. The screaming stopped.
Filled now only with an animal sense for self-preservation, the Mighty Emir scrambled to his hands and knees and felt frantically through the debris for his pistol. He was dimly aware, through the ringing in his ears and the dust and blood in his eyes, of the dark shapes moving swiftly toward him from the other side of the room.
Finally his fingers closed on the cool grip of the .45. He slid it from underneath a blackened wooden board, but as he tried to raise it off the floor, a khaki combat boot came slamming down against his wrist. The emir let go of the pistol with a scream. Pain shot up the entire length of his arm as his wrist bones shattered and ground against each other.
Trying to battle through the haze of agony and the metallic echoes in his ears, the emir looked up at his tormentor. His gaze took in the sharp outlines of reactive bioceramic body armor, the gear belt sagging under the weight of spare magazines, the subtle exoskeleton gantries running along the arms, and the curious logo on the shoulder patch. He looked through the flickering light of smartglasses and straight into the eyes of the man who, in less than twenty-four hours, had reduced the emir's Grand Caliphate—his harems, rape rooms, dungeons, and the flower of his army—to rubble. The man who had reduced the emir himself to a powerless, pain-wracked figure, whimpering on his hands and knees.
The eyes that met his left the emir with no doubt that he would share the same fate he himself had dealt so many others. The brown eyes, reflecting the soft blue light of the smartglasses' heads-up display, were blank, regarding him as one would an insect. There was no hatred, no passion. The face was expressionless, save for a slight upturn at one corner of the mouth that could have been a smile or a smirk. The closely shaved head remained upright, as if not deigning to bow even to regard this thing whimpering at its feet. Only the eyes were aimed downward at the emir.
Well, not only the eyes, he realized a split second later. Also the yawning barrel of a dark, sleek, automatic rifle.
A flash from the smartglasses momentarily dazzled the emir, then the man standing on his hand spoke. His Arabic was flawless, though accented. "Your identity has been confirmed with a retinal ID scan. Emir Ahmed al-Bashir, you have been found guilty by an international court of free men and women of gross crimes against humanity. Among these are the massacre of women and children at the town of Udici; the torture and death of political opponents Martin Lukudu, Abuk Chol, and their wives and children; and the bombing of the Red Cross hospital in Gogrial. The proof of your crimes is extensive, well-documented, and incontrovertible. As CEO and Chairman of the Board of Justice, Incorporated, and acting on behalf of our stockholders and the international community, I am here to carry out your sentence."
The foot came off his wrist, and the rifle barrel came to rest against his forehead.
The emir tried to shrink away from the hard-faced man and his baritone American accent, shuffling back toward the wall. He made it a foot and a half, still blubbering, before a single report split the air in the bunker like a lighting bolt, and the reign of Emir Ahmed al-Bashir, Lion of East Africa, Instrument of God's Wrath, Ruler of the Thousand Sands, and a terror to his people, came to an abrupt end.
Chapter 1: Market Niche
"Federal funding for organizations like Helping Hands for Africa thus represents an unalloyed good, even though the returns are measured in lives saved, rather than dollars made.
Senator Horace Wilson stopped, and the words scrolling in front of his eyes paused. He flicked his gaze to the picture occupying the bottom right of his vision.
"Jeff, 'unalloyed?' Who is this speech for, the United Metalworkers Union? Change it."
"Yes sir." The voice in his ears was immediate. "How about 'indisputable'?"
"You're the goddamn speechwriter, but just remember I'm speaking to a joint session of Congress, not some Midwest engineers' convention."
"Of course, sir." The offending word winked out, replaced an instant later by 'indisputable.'
Wilson sat back in the autocar's leather passenger seat. "From the top."
The text in his smartglasses display whizzed back to the beginning of the speech, and the Senate Majority Leader from California cleared his throat.
"Thank you, Mr. President. I come to the Senate floor today to discuss an issue of importance to every American. The people of this great nation, and the citizens of the great state of California, think our country should be a leader in the world not just economically and militarily, but in our compassion as well.
"The Federal International Nonprofit Grants Program provides much-needed funding to not-for-profit organizations dedicated to making the world a better place. Since 2019 this program has dispensed grants to organizations as diverse as the eco-conscious Green the Planet, and Helping Hands for Africa, an aid organization providing food to victims of political unrest.
"But I stand before this body to say: it is not enough. Unless we vote to increase the funding level for this program, vital causes and crucial charities will be forced to shut down, their important missions severely curtailed or ended. As the current economic downturn has shown, the federal government must step in as a trusted partner to—"
The car jerked to a halt, and Wilson looked through his translucent glasses display in surprise. A sea of red taillights stretched away down Massachusetts Avenue and around Dupont Circle. A moment later, orange text flashed across the top of his vision.
"Unexpected traffic occurrence."
"Goddamnit!" If his bill to mandate automated cars on the roads had passed, he wouldn't have to deal with these freak traffic accidents so often. Goddamn auto unions. Too many of his colleagues in the party still received most of their donations from those bloated Rust Belt relics.
"Traffic view." As the list of options appeared, he fixed his eyes on the icon that read 'Dupont Circle View' until it blinked and opened up into a panoramic feed from the nearest government traffic drone.
Looking down on the city, he picked out his own car, a royal blue luxury electric sedan, stuck behind a logjam of others right before the circle. Glancing over to P Street, he immediately saw the issue: a long line of motorcycles and cop cars, their red and blue lights flashing, surrounded by a veritable swarm of black Secret Service drones, was escorting a motorcade of dark, armored SUVs into the traffic circle.
Automated cars and smart routing technology could predict rush-hour slowdowns, weather problems, and protest march paths. They could not predict when the president would get a hankering for his favorite upscale pizza-and-beer joint.
The senator narrowed his eyes.
That should be me.
If the primary debates had gone just a little bit differently. If the sixty-two-year-old Wilson hadn't looked quite so old compared to his competition on that stage. He thought his thinning gray hair, dyed to keep a salt-and-pepper look, and slight paunch lent him a patrician air and a presidential gravitas. But the voters of Iowa and New Hampshire preferred that limp-dicked upstart from Massachusetts with his too-white smile.
And Senator Horace Wilson had to smother his enmity and support the man who was now, officially, the head of the Democratic Party.
For now. He smiled. Wilson would be better prepared for round two; he'd have help this time.
As if reading his thoughts, a chime sounded in his ears.
A very particular chime he'd assigned to a very particular event.
His eyes widened; he wasn't anticipating anything new just yet. Unexpected contact, outside of the usual protocol, rarely meant good news.
Trying to keep his voice from wavering with the sudden drumbeat of his heart, the senator keyed over to his speechwriter, still waiting patiently in the video-call window.
"Jeff, rework the intro, it's too fucking pompous. I have another call." He closed out the window without waiting for a response.
The senator slowly slid off the lightweight smartglasses, holding his thumb to a scanner on the side to deactivate the device. He blinked in the sudden bright light of real life before ordering the car to tint its windows. From a sport coat pocket he pulled a small case, no bigger than a ring box and, again using his thumbprint, unlocked it. Inside was a microdrive as small as a fingernail.
He opened a side port on the smartglasses and inserted the drive before powering them back on and replacing them over his eyes.
The drive booted in seconds, flashing a logo that read, "Amnesia: Privacy in an Operating System."
Using his eyes instead of voice commands, he opened "EncrypToR: The Anonymous Browser" and navigated to a private "PGPmail" account
After authenticating himself and logging in, he saw one new message waiting in his inbox. A countdown timer next to it ticked off how much of the ten minutes remained before the message was completely erased. He opened it.
A wall of gibberish text greeted him. He entered his private key with its corresponding password, and immediately the block of letters became readable.
The message was short: "This is a problem:" followed by a link, and "Call me" afterward.
The senator opened the link.
It was a video on CNN's homepage, timestamped six minutes ago.
The young anchorwoman in the video spoke, her voice perfectly forgettable: "Privately traded shares of Justice, Incorporated rose to their highest level ever in the cryptosecurity markets today on news of the successful toppling and death of South Sudanese strongman and military dictator Ahmed al-Bashir.
"CEO Eric Ikenna reported during a press conference that this operation, the first successful demonstration of his company's brigade-level tactical doctrine, and the only operation so far against a sitting head of state, illustrates the power of, quote, 'free people taking concerted action against a regime noted for brutal oppression.'"
The camera shot cut to a well-dressed black man behind a podium. He stood in front of a new glass-and-wood corporate headquarters, and the lettering in the stone sign behind him read, "Justice, Inc." next to a stylized sword-and-balance-scale logo. The camera panned out to show other people standing to either side of the man, and Wilson realized just how tall he was; six foot three, at least. His fitted suit clung to broad shoulders and thick biceps.
His voice was deep, with a Midwestern accent—Michigan, maybe. He was responding to some question from a newsdrone: "Yes, we were initially funded by angel investors, and debt, though we do have a prominent VC backer, as I'm sure you're aware. Revenue, well, that's a bit more complicated, but as we're not a public company I don't have to get into that." He smiled before the video cut back to the anchor:
"Mr. Ikenna did not respond to questions about the company's long-term viability in light of a recent UN Security Council resolution condemning the South Sudan operation as 'against international law' and putting pressure on the U.S. government to close down the private military corporation's Mississippi-based offices."
The video ended, and Senator Wilson frowned.
He'd always known there would be a price to pay if he wanted to become president one day, and the woman collecting the bill did not like to be kept waiting. He reached again into a coat pocket.
The burner phone was a basic model, audio only, but it was encrypted and built to bounce the cell signal over multiple nodes in a mesh network. And it had been bought with laundered cryptocoins, in person. It was as safe as any long-distance communication could be.
He dialed the number he'd memorized. It rang once, and the voice that answered was clipped and dry: "You have work to do."
Eric was doing it again.
Jenna Capatides suppressed a smile as she walked across the lawn to the collection of grills and picnic tables on the patio, her high heels sinking slightly into the grass. She brushed a stray lock of shoulder-length dirty blonde hair behind an ear.
The spring Mississippi sunshine slanted across the party as nearly four hundred Justice, Inc. staff and their families enjoyed free barbecue and beer to celebrate the company's biggest win yet. A similar event had happened three days earlier, in the deposed dictator's opulent palace, for the almost one thousand JI operators and personnel now in the former South Sudan province of Bahr el Ghazal.
Eric Ikenna attended both events and, despite the nearly fifteen-hour flight between here and there, not to mention the seven-hour time difference and his recent role in toppling a despotic government, he was as chipper and energetic as if he'd just had a quiet night of uninterrupted sleep. And he was, as usual, surrounded by a group of enthralled onlookers.
Jenna navigated the friends, smiles, and congratulatory handshakes until she was within hearing distance of the Justice, Inc. CEO. Eric was sitting at one of the long picnic tables on the lawn, but even seated, his tall frame was easy to pick out in the crowd. The light glinted off the black skin of his shaven head, and his expressive face hid nothing. His casual button-down and slacks would have fit in at the office of any West Coast tech company, but were a far cry from the combat fatigues and body armor he had worn not twenty-five hours earlier.
He was enthusiastically tearing into a large plate of ribs, doing his best to imitate the customs of their guests by using only his right hand. In between mouthfuls, his baritone voice captured the attention of everyone around him. He spoke using a mix of English and Arabic to the other men at his table, who all wore a combination of traditional Sudanese robes and Western business suits.
"This is real American barbecue. Oh, don't worry, it's halal; these ribs are beef. The key is the rub; you really need to give it time for the spices to soak in."
One of the men said something Jenna couldn't hear, and Eric's eyes lit up. "Exactly. We're not beholden to public opinion or political pressure groups like a government, so we have a lot more flexibility. Our sole mission is to provide safety and security to our customers. Because we can do it so cheaply, we don't need to rely on massive state contracts or subsidies either."
Another question, from a man in a robe across the table from Eric, this in accented English: "And the contract the Provisional Council signed, what if it is revoked?"
"Well, the contract with the Provisional Council is only one such contract we've signed with customers in the area, so we'll remain as long as we have paying clients who want our services. We've got contracts with most of the largest businesses and neighborhoods in Wau to provide surveillance and drone and foot patrols, just as we do with your stadium, Mr. Lagu. Everyone deserves to live with safety and security, not just the members of the provisional government, no matter how much I like them personally." He said this with a grin and a wink as he patted the shoulder of a man next to him wearing a suit. The man laughed.
Jenna tapped Eric on the back and he turned, midbite.
"Sorry to interrupt, Glorious Leader, but it's almost two and your call with Will starts in ten minutes."
Eric pushed himself up from the table. His muscled bulk towered over Jenna's five-foot-three frame, even as he bowed low to their guests. "Gentlemen, my apologies. I'm going to check in with our first Justice, Inc. satellite office in downtown Wau. May I recommend the coleslaw?"
Back inside the relative quiet of the air-conditioned building, Eric and Jenna walked side by side through the expansive lobby to the main offices, crossing under the American, Kurdish, and newly added Bahr el Ghazali flags hanging from the rafters. There were currently many more rafters than flags, but Jenna hoped that would change soon enough.
"Your press conference video's already got half a million hits on CNN." She said it playfully, but it was clearly a reproach.
"Well, the old media's got to find something to blabber about I suppose."
Jenna's tone turned serious. "All this exposure will make it harder to invest and market in new targets."
Eric flashed a big smile, his teeth glowing brightly. "That just means we're doing everything right. We knew we'd have to deal with this eventually, if we were successful. We just have to be a little more cautious and use a few more layers. These expenses were calculated in the business plan. I don't see it affecting revenue projections."
"Still, I'd like to limit the media exposure if we can, at least until we figure out which way the wind is blowing on this Security Council thing. A relocation at this point would be costly and would affect revenue projections."
"Really? The UN is a toothless old relic. They can't do anything to us."
She looked at him askance. "Eric, you're an excellent soldier and even a decent businessman, but you don't know a damn thing about politics." Ever since the two had met, working for a different private military corporation, she as a pilot, he as a weapons instructor, Jenna had thought Eric sincere, but naïve. His offer to bring her on at his new company as Chief Communications Officer, however, had been compelling. It didn't hurt that she'd had a bit of a crush on him, back then.
The pair reached the archway that separated the lobby from the main offices of the building. As always, Eric paused just long enough to read the inscription above him, outlined in gold on the wood: "The evil of this world is made possible by nothing but the sanction you give it."
He'd told Jenna it was a line from a book he read when he was seventeen. It struck a chord in him, and he'd reread that book every year since. He'd given her a copy, but she hadn't gotten around to finishing it.
Jenna continued, "True, the UN itself can't do anything, but there are plenty of senior government officials who would love to use the Security Council resolution as an excuse to shut us down. You made some enemies with that op-ed on the Syrian occupation last year. I know it's not your style, but I still think it makes sense to be cautious on this."
She gave him a wry smile, which he returned with a smirk.
As they reached the door to Eric's office she added, like an afterthought, "Oh, and your 'mysterious benefactor' called. Wanted you to do dinner tomorrow. I told him I didn't think it was a good idea for you two to be seen together until the media coverage dies down."
He winked at her. "Tell him I'll be there at eight."
It was one of the rare luxuries Eric allowed himself: an honest-to-God real book, with weight, texture, and a smell. He found he enjoyed the solidity of ink on dead tree, that it lent an air of dignity to the whole act of reading.
Not so Pieter Malan.
"Put down that musty relic and come eat. I've got something special whipped up, since Ayli and the girls are in Austin."
Eric mock-groaned. "You're cooking? You burnt ramen in college. Does it involve a microwave?"
"Better," his friend chuckled. "A printer."
"Oh no, this isn't from that company you just bought?"
"Three-D Cuisine? Oh yeah. Sent the whole kitchen staff home for the week. I've got all six printer models in the pantry to test out."
Eric's deep voice contrasted with his billionaire friend's softer tenor. "You do have the pizza place on speed dial, right?"
"Hah. Shut up and get that four-thousand-year-old technology out of my sight. I'll never understand why you lug those things with you when you have access to everything ever written right there in your glasses. And those books weigh nothing."
The bulky Justice, Inc. CEO stood, setting down his book and joining the slight, brown-haired Pieter in his gleaming kitchen. "It's not about convenience, Pieter, it's the experience."
"It's about you acting like an eighty-year-old." The billionaire was setting out plates, his natural nervous energy leading them to be arranged quickly, if haphazardly.
"Jenna was right; we bicker like an old married couple." Eric adjusted one of the place settings.
"She's just jealous you don't bicker with her like that."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Eric replied, but Pieter wasn't looking at him.
"Nothing." Pieter bounced off to the pantry to get their dinner.
"She's my employee!"
"She's your partner, technically. She owns four percent of the company," came the muffled, pedantic reply.
"That's four percent of nothing until we turn a profit. And it doesn't make her special; all of my employees have some level of ownership, technically," Eric shot back as he opened the massive fridge to grab a bottle of beer.
"Wait, I have something better." Pieter set down two platters of food and opened his freezer. "To commemorate the first step to a freer, happier world."
He removed a perfectly chilled, thirty-year-old bottle of champagne. With a practiced flourish, he popped the cork and filled two tall flutes with the bubbling liquid.
They toasted the success of their fledgling military company with grins.
Pieter lowered his glass. "Your dad would have been proud, you know. Even if this all goes to shit in the next few months, we saved lives last week. Al-Bashir was a monster."
Eric nodded, "Yours, too."
The two men sipped champagne in silence.
"If we succeed, do you have any idea how it could revolutionize the world?"
"If we succeed, Piet." Eric knew just how much work still lay ahead. This was the largest undertaking the company had yet attempted. A lot was riding on its working out.
"We will." Pieter Malan had a fierce light in his eyes.
It was the same light Eric had seen that night, eight years earlier, when they'd first thought up the idea of Justice, Incorporated. They'd been on a spring break trip, both a little drunk off rum, discussing life, sitting on the warm sand by a seaside bonfire.
Pieter, the excitably idealistic visionary, had always been the one with the wild ideas, and that night he'd captured Eric's imagination with the picture of a company founded to solve big, thorny problems. A private, profit-driven organization that could save lives and upend the traditional response to humanitarian disasters. Eric admired his friend's optimistic principles, despite the sometimes insane-seeming conclusions they led to and, after some initial skepticism, he'd enthusiastically joined in imagining what their future company would be like.
Perhaps it was absorbing too many of his friend's principles that got Eric discharged from the Army six months later.
It was another three years after that before Pieter, now a newly minted cryptocurrency billionaire, proposed to make their idea a reality and fully fund Justice, Inc.
In the five years since, Eric had become the loyal foot soldier, putting his military experience to use leading the company, while Pieter's guiding vision kept JI on the narrow path and quieted any lingering doubts in Eric's mind that they were doing the right thing.
He smiled. "I'm glad one of us is sure of the outcome."
"We will completely reshape history, Eric! An affordable, private security solution will unlock the economic potential of millions of people living in war-torn regions, making those places safe for investment, for raising families, for educating children."
Pieter's enthusiasm was always infectious, and Eric felt like he did when they'd first had this conversation, eight years ago. He smiled in spite of his lack of sleep and the weight of everything they still had to accomplish. He smiled because he knew with Pieter's funding and his own military experience and skills, they really could do what all the bloated NGOs and international aid programs claimed to do: make the world a better place.
"Let's eat first."
After a surprisingly edible meal of 3D-printed "hamburger" patties and low-carb "fries," Pieter pushed away from the table and stood up.
"Come on, I want to show you something." He was smiling but there was a subtle shift in his voice. Eric followed Pieter silently out of the kitchen.
The pair made their way through the palatial Mississippi estate, built at the same time as the JI headquarters building so Pieter could live closer to his primary investment. He still spent most of his time with his wife and daughters in their home in Austin, Texas, however.
Wordlessly the billionaire led the way down a wide staircase to the opulently furnished basement. A hallway at the back led to several guest bedrooms and a swimming pool, but he opened a door Eric had never seen before, and waited while Eric stepped through before closing it behind them.
The room was simply furnished with tasteful armchairs, some science fiction art on the walls, and a cabinet with various scale models of plastic rockets, lined up in rows, dominating the far wall.
"All from private firms. I started printing them three years ago, when Astro Technologies landed their Chimera capsule on the moon. A stunt, I know, but it was cool. Here's the original Falcon, and this one is being built next year by a start-up in the Honduras Special Economic Zone. Supposed to be able to land mining equipment on asteroids." He pointed to the respective models.
"Is this—" Eric was interrupted by his friend holding up a finger.
He watched as Pieter opened the cabinet and picked up a model, seemingly at random. He flipped it over and held his thumb against a scanner carefully concealed in its base. A click sounded from the wall next to the cabinet, and Malan slid it away to reveal a heavy metal door. Another thumbprint, an eye scan, and the insertion of a mini-key with a smart drive in its teeth, and the door swung inward.
Inside was a veritable command center. Full VR deck, printers with feeds for bio and pharma in addition to metal and plastic, cots lined up against the walls, boxes of miniaturized drones, and four or five different rifles in a rack in the corner. Eric narrowed his eyes. This kind of paranoid panic room reminded him of a certain, recently deceased, dictator.
Pieter waited until the door was secured behind them to speak. "Sorry. I know this looks crazy. But rich people are allowed to be eccentric."
Eric crossed his arms. "Piet, what's up?"
"I just want to be careful. Come check this out." Pieter beckoned him to the VR deck.
Malan narrated as Eric pulled glasses—the full-immersion, wraparound kind that blocked out light—over his eyes. "My big-data company, 2Smart Analytics, built me a custom query a while ago to track all the social chatter and other online and traditional coverage around JI."
With the glasses on, Eric was floating in a dense network map, nodes and connections stretched out around him like a small three-dimensional galaxy. Each node had a word or concept hovering directly above it. "Justice, Inc." hung in big green letters in front of him; other nodes appeared closer and larger based on their mention frequency. "Mercenary," "South Sudan," "private military," and "neo-colonialism" all hung nearby among several other, less flattering words.
"After the big Bahr el Ghazal operation," Pieter continued, "I started noticing some irregularities in the data the query was returning."
The view changed to a dashboard image breaking down social media sites, popular VR coffee shops, and video comment pages across the major newsblogs.
"Here." One instance was highlighted and enlarged. "This is where it started."
The video, a comment on a subforum of a midsize social site, started playing. It was a doughy man with a beard, wearing glasses that had been popular a decade ago: "Justice, Incorporated is nothing more than an imperialist mercenary army. They want to restart slavery and exploit the oil fields, just like the U.S. did in Iraq and Syria. Congress needs to investigate them and shut them down!"
Eric smiled. "I've seen plenty of this kind of thing already. We knew we'd get this type of negative publicity based on what we're doing."
The sharpness in Pieter's voice surprised him. "No. Wait."
The view changed again, to a graph charting a jagged red line that increased, in fits and starts, as it moved to the right.
"Here's the frequency chart for the meme calling for a congressional investigation over the last forty-eight hours. It looks like a normal deterministic epidemic spread, right? Picking up momentum logarithmically as the idea expands to new networks?"
"Sure," Eric said.
"But look at these spikes." A series of points was highlighted on the chart. "They correspond to influencers picking up the meme and unleashing it to their own networks and followers. Notice anything?"
Eric didn't.
A curve was overlaid across the points on the graph. "They all follow the exact predicted timing for a memetic contagion spread." Pieter's voice was triumphant.
"But didn't you say that's what this is? Wouldn't we expect that?"
"That's the model, but real life is never that precise. You'd expect variation along that curve—some to be above, some below it. But never the exact curve. That's like finding, oh, I don't know, a perfectly frictionless surface outside of a physics textbook."
"It means someone's manipulating the conversation, Eric. Someone sophisticated and with a lot of resources. These influencer accounts are all heavy hitters. And the spread to other social nodes is flawless; this isn't just some Astroturfing operation, or we'd see the idea limited to only influencer nodes. Whoever is driving this meme is expending some serious social capital, and I think they're activating a massive network of bot accounts, something that had to have been in place and dormant for years."
"I don't think it's exactly news that we have enemies." Eric took off the VR glasses. "Your team can be active in countering this, right?"
"Only in a limited way." Pieter had also removed his pair of glasses, and pursed his lips into a grim line. "We don't have the kind of money whoever's orchestrating this is throwing at it."
"But you're a billionaire."
"I know. It's why I'm worried. Hence…" He gestured to the secured panic room around them.
Eric shrugged. "Someone's got a political axe to grind and too much money. I think you're being paranoid."
"And I think you're being naïve."
Eric patted his friend on the back. "I appreciate the heads-up. Look, I really need to get some sleep." He reached for the door, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"I've taken some precautions."
"I noticed."
"No, I mean others. Just in case."
Eric raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
The shorter man reached into his pocket and pulled something out of it. He pressed the object into Eric's palm. It was a tiny smartdrive, unremarkable except for the "FV" logo of Futurist Venture Capital, Pieter's investment firm, etched into one side.
"It's encrypted," Pieter said. "Do you remember the name of our freshman year suitemate? With the big ears? That'll unlock it."
"I remember him." Michael Bate had shared the bathroom with them in college. The two friends had nicknamed him "Master" because of his last name and because, to eighteen-year-olds, that was funny. Eric narrowed his eyes. "What's on the drive, Piet?"
"Just some insurance, in case you need it."
Sensing he would get no more out of his friend on the subject, Eric shrugged. "Okay, thanks. Can I go now?"
Malan smiled apologetically. "Thanks for indulging my eccentricities, Eric."
A chime sounded in Eric's pocket immediately after the door opened back up. He pulled his glasses on: eleven missed calls from Jenna. Before he could dial her back, the house announced in a clipped, precise voice with a British accent, "Incoming call from: Jenna Capatides."
"Answer," Pieter replied.
Eric spoke up, "Jenna?"
"Eric, where have you been?"
Malan smiled weakly. "Oh, right, that room is a Faraday cage. Lead-shielded, too. Sorry."
Eric threw him a glare as he replied, "What's up?"
Jenna's voice sounded tight. "We have a situation developing in South Sudan."
Click here to purchase on Amazon and continue reading.
David M. Swindle
David M. Swindle is a writer, editor, and activist. He is a senior editor and the webmaster for Liberty Island. He writes novels, non-fiction, articles, blog posts and screenplays. He edits books across genres. Some of the titles he has acquired and edited for Liberty Island include: J.P. Medved's sci-fi thriller Justice, Inc, Quin Hillyer's satirical Mad Jones trilogy, Jonah: A Novel of Men and the Sea by Howard Butcher, the comedic Snowflake's Chance by Curtis Edmonds, The American Blackout action-thriller series by Fred Tribuzzo, and Brian Drake's Steve Dane spy thriller series. Click here if you are interested in submitting novels or web content to David.
David also works as the Southern California associate for the Counter-Islamist Grid. Previously he has worked as coordinator of the Middle East Forum's Islamist Watch project (2016-2017), associate editor for PJ Media (2011-2015), and associate editor for FrontPageMag/managing editor of NewsReal Blog (2009-2011). His articles have been published by The Washington Examiner, The Daily Caller, The Daily Wire, The California Courier, Rebel Media, Big Hollywood, SmashCut Culture, John Hawkins' Right-Wing News, Acculturated, American Thinker, Lid Blog, The Indianapolis Star, and WTHR.com (Indianapolis' NBC affiliate). He graduated in 2006 from Ball State University with a double-major in English (creative writing emphasis) and Political Science. He currently lives in Burbank, California. Follow him on Twitter @DaveSwindle and visit his blog here.


text:
Unionized Scientists March in Protest of Attacks on Science and Jobs
Blog | Better Pay and Benefits · Infrastructure
Carly Ebben Eaton and Kathy Setian
IFPTE Local 20
Of all the attacks on our civil society, the attacks on evidence-based science pose perhaps the greatest existential threat. Decisions being made about climate science and environmental protection at this critical time will shape the future of our planet.
Advances in research are produced by the twin pillars of dedicated scientists and an activated citizenry who demand that the best science be applied to today's most pressing problems. Because scientists produce the facts that expose the lies currently being purveyed, the tip of the spear is pointed at the heart of science-based policy and research.
But the imminent threat also presents an extraordinary opportunity for the scientific community to unify around a message of resistance, one in which organized labor has a critical role to play. Unionized scientists are well-positioned to fight back against the false narratives being pushed by the administration and to advocate collectively for continued funding of crucial basic research. Science professionals need a workplace free from fear of corporate power and political malfeasance influencing their results. We are the protectors of truth and facts, and in that way we all are in service to the public. With scientific integrity, we speak truth to power.
Budget cuts are the beginning of the attack. For example, the Donald Trump administration is proposing a 31% cut in funding and 21% cut in workforce at the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency on top of less-heralded budget cuts over the past three years. Such low funding levels have not been seen since the 1970s, prior to the enactment of most of our national environmental laws. Enforcement is also targeted, crippling the EPA's ability to protect human health.
Is this a good way to save money? Investments in environmental protection pay huge dividends for the country. For example, air pollution reductions will avoid 230,000 premature deaths and produce total benefits valued at $2 trillion in 2020, according to a 2011 study. This benefit exceeds costs by more than 30-to-1, to say nothing of the human suffering.
Scientists have long held the view that with enough data and evidence we will be able to convince skeptics that climate change is real, that humans are responsible and that immediate action must be taken. It is increasingly clear that this approach has not worked.
For the nearly 7,000 postdoctoral researchers at the University of California and Lawrence Berkeley National Lab represented by UAW Local 5810, having a union ensures strong workplace protections as well as a powerful, nationwide platform for advocacy when research comes under threat. And the collective power of the union is not limited to the workplace.
With a diverse membership that includes both higher education and the manufacturing sector, the UAW has been a leading advocate for climate change policies that both create healthy communities and address economic and racial inequities. And at the EPA, the International Federation of Professional and Technical Engineers (IFPTE) Local 20/Engineers and Scientists of California (ESC) has rallied in opposition to the cuts and will continue to speak out, including in San Francisco at the March for Science.
Make no mistake. As organized scientists, we are in solidarity with our union brothers and sisters who have lost jobs and real income steadily over the past several decades. We support the creation of jobs in clean energy sectors and in green infrastructure projects.
It is time for scientists and the citizenry who depend on science to embrace our responsibility to advocate for sound policies. Our very lives and livelihood are now dependent on stepping collectively forward into the realm of political advocacy and action.
Together we will March for Science on April 22, in opposition to the damage that the current administration seeks to do to research and in solidarity with scientists, researchers, and concerned citizens who remain resolved, undeterred, and organized in the face of these threats.
Carly Ebben Eaton is a postdoctoral scholar and executive board member of UAW Local 5810. Kathy Setian was a project manager at the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency and a steward of IFPTE Local 20, Engineers and Scientists of California. She will be a speaker at the April 22 March for Science in San Francisco.
Tags: Climate Change, Green Jobs
Trumka on New NAFTA at Maryland/DC AFL-CIO Convention: We Are Not There Yet
Trumka to Alabama AFL-CIO: United We Win, Divided We Fall
The Double Standard at Work: European Corporate Investment and Workers' Rights in the American South
This report examines how European companies doing business in the U.S. South have responded when U.S. workers exercise their organizing and collective bargaining rights.

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


Just like any online transaction, betting too carries the chance of your funds getting misappropriated by hackers seeking out weaknesses in a particular sports betting website, or by way of the owners of unethical websites themselves. When this occurs you have to safeguard your funds and an e-check facility is one such method odds exshange that can ensure your money remains safe. You can now bet safely in online pro sports betting with e-check facility and enjoy your winnings with virtually no hassles.
Most online sports betting sites accept credit cards as way of conducting incoming and outgoing transactions. However, you will find hackers that prey on sites that have inadequate safety measures as well as the ones that might penetrate into your own computer as well, in order to steal vital data such as PIN numbers or other vital codes. This could seriously jeopardize your security and increase the risk for loss of vital money as your funds could easily be re-directed towards the hackers accounts without your knowledge.
It's precisely because of such problems that many reputed websites have used the e-check facility to accept deposits from bettors. An e-check is just like writing out a paper check in favor of your sports book whenever you need to deposit money from your own bank account into your sports book account. This would be necessary before you place your bets at that site. You will also need to provide additional verification to the sports book site in the form of a cancelled check of your bank-account before using this e-wallet feature. This facility leaves no room for any mischief and it is hence preferred by many reputed online gambling sports books.
Regardless of whether you love to bet on golf, soccer, baseball, football, basketball, horse racing or simply if you love to bet on car races on a pro or college level, you are going to certainly find online sportsbooks which are prepared to conduct transactions while using e check facility. Whether you are into betting simply as a hobby to inject some fun into your life or have made it a paying business, an e-check facility is sure to help you by keeping your hard-earned money safe within your account. Since online bookies could be based outside of the borders of USA, it will be tough to initiate any legal action in case your money was siphoned-off in an illegal manner into some other account.
You could love placing straight bets and even parimutuel bets before each game plus your attention too would be centered on winning your bets instead of thinking on ways to keep your money safe. An e-check facility will simply enable you to safely interpret each betting line and calculate the chances of winning rather than worrying about the safety of your money. Now you can enjoy watching and betting on your own favorite sport and collecting your winnings with virtually no problems.


text:
Paddy Power Betfair to appeal penalty of €55 million
Photo Source: fora.ie
Paddy Power Betfair has announced that it will appeal against the tax bill of €55m slapped against its German and Greek businesses.
The first fine of €40m concerns the Betfair Exchange in Germany, which was operational up to November 2012, while the second of €15m relates to the paddypower.com business in Greece.
The Hessen Fiscal Court provided Paddy Power Betfair with a decision relating to the group's appeal of a 2012 German tax assessment relating to the Betfair Exchange. The Fiscal Court found against the Group and deemed that a tax liability of €40m is payable, including accrued interest.
Paddy Power Betfair says this represents a multiple of the revenues generated by the Exchange during the assessment period. Separately, the group was recently issued with a Greek tax assessment for financial years 2012, 2013 and 2014, relating to paddypower.com's Greek interim license.
Paddy Power Betfair stated: "The Group strongly disputes the basis of these assessments, and in line with the legal and tax advice we have received, is confident in our grounds to appeal. We therefore intend to do so. Pending the outcome of these appeals, we paid the total Greek liability in January 2019 while we await clarity with respect to the timing of any cash payment in Germany."
Week 7 slot games releases
NBA 2K League partners with Champion athletic apparel
Sports data specialist Stats Perform has entered into a partnership with Live Graphic Systems (LIGR) to deliver rich statistical broadcast graphics for sports leagues and broadcasters looking to streamline production costs while maintaining professional standards and commercial integrations.
The partnership highlights more than three years of cooperative projects between Stats Perform and LIGR, including customers like Gravity Media, Cricket Australia, Football NSW, and Queensland Rugby League. The partnership brings together Stats Perform's industry-leading event and tracking data and deep storytelling expertise with LIGR's best-in-breed live sports broadcast graphics platform, including access to LIGR's out-of-the-box professional graphics templates and their industry-leading sponsorship modules for easy upload, display and reporting of commercial in-game inventory.
"With Stats Perform's world-class data and advanced storytelling resources, sports broadcasters and leagues will be able to utilise LIGR's platform to produce large volumes of data-enriched broadcast experiences with world-class graphics in a streamlined, cost-efficient production workflow. This next generation workflow is self-serve, in the cloud, out-of-the-box, and up and running in minutes, even for the most unskilled user. This is extremely exciting for sports leagues and broadcasters who have struggled to produce professional broadcasts with real-time data integrations under limited budgets, away from traditional broadcasting solutions. Now more than ever, cloud-based and automated, data-driven workflows will be a key driver for the sports and broadcast industry to move forward while live sports content is still king," Luke McCoy, Co-founder and CEO of LIGR, said.
"Sports broadcasts today rely on slick, fast, informative graphics that drive the game's narrative, while breaking down vast data points and analytics in a visually appealing way that fans can digest. LIGR's intelligent, out-of-the-box broadcast graphic tools integrate Stats Perform's advanced event and tracking data to deliver a sleek, easy-to-use tool, that also makes overlaying advertising easy, generating new sponsorship revenue for our customers. We are excited to be working with LIGR to offer new tools to power any broadcast," Wayne Ford, Senior Vice President of Global Partners and Channels at Stats Perform, said.
Metric Gaming has appointed Will Stephenson as head of business development.
Stephenson's hiring, a new position created within the company, highlights Metric's plan for continued growth in 2021. Stephenson has been in the industry for 15 years. He worked at Metric Gaming previously as head of sports in 2017.
"I am delighted and excited to re-join an ambitious and growing company such as Metric Gaming," Stephenson said.
"Their modern multi-tenant sportsbook system allows greater customisation and is industry-leading. I look forward to helping the company secure further partnerships this year," he added.
The Association of Gaming Equipment Manufacturers (AGEM) has elected new president and officers.
David Lucchese, executive vice president of sales, marketing and digital at Everi, is the new president. Previously an AGEM's vice president, Lucchese replaces Luke Orchard as president for a two-year term, while Orchard, senior vice president, chief compliance and risk management officer at IGT, moves to a vice president position for a one-year term.
One-year terms were also approved for: vice president Elaine Hodgson (president and CEO, Incredible Technologies), vice president Thomas Jingoli (executive vice president and chief commercial officer, Konami Gaming), vice president Bob Parente (senior vice president and chief revenue officer, gaming, Scientific Games), secretary Eric Fisher (senior vice president and GM, Crane Payment Innovations), treasurer Hector Fernandez (president – Americas, Aristocrat Technologies and) general counsel Daron Dorsey (senior vice president and general counsel – Americas, Ainsworth Game Technology).


text:
Chris Watts killed his pregnant wife Shanann and their daughters three years in the past, a still-surprising crime that shattered those who notion they knew the photo-best young circle of relatives.
From the out of doors, the Watts circle of relatives became as an alternative cute.
Shanann Watts frequently documented their charming domestic exploits in small-town Colorado for social media, aided and abetted by means of her two younger daughters, Bella Marie and Celeste Cathryn, and telegenic husband Chris, who can be seen in his spouse's Facebook films easily agreeing to post-cookie-baking cleanup or scooping his women up for massive hugs.
"Happy Husband Appreciation Day! I couldn't consider a higher man for us," Shanann captioned an Instagram post in April 2018. "You ruin us with love [and] interest! You placed up with 3 impatient, disturbing ladies inside the residence. You work so hard normal to offer for us. I love you so much."
Chris Watts and Shanann met in 2010 in their domestic nation of North Carolina and were given married on Nov. 3, 2012. During a experience out west, they fell in love with the scenery and overall vibe of Frederick, Colo., (pop. 8,709) and moved into a spacious five-bed room house that they right away commenced to replenish. They welcomed Bella on Dec. 17, 2013, and her sister, referred to as Cece for short, turned into born July 17, 2015.
And Shanann become pregnant with their third child, a boy they had been going to name Nico, when Chris Watts killed all of them.
Because within the case of the Watts circle of relatives, seems—which are so frequently deceiving—had been overlaying the unraveling of Chris and Shanann's marriage, her tries to hold their life-style collectively and his decline that brought about the worst act imaginable.
"If I became thinking, this wouldn't have took place," Watts—who was 33 whilst he strangled Shanann, 34, and smothered Bella, four, and Cece, 3, on Aug. 13, 2018—told police later.
But having desperate, homicidal mind is not the same as not thinking. And whilst he stated he had not planned to kill his own family, he spent a long time living a lie—though it took barely 48 hours after the killings for the prison of his own design to close in on him.
On Aug. 14, a Tuesday, he instructed Denver 7 News outside his residence that Shanann had again from the airport after a business ride to Arizona at 2 a.M. The day before. He become already in mattress and then he left for his task with Anadarko Petroleum—"They respect him, which is massive, for any job which you have," Shanann said of her husband's business enterprise in a Facebook video—at round five:15 a.M.
Chris stated he'd texted his spouse a few times that morning, getting no reply, which he chalked up to her being busy, and at 12:10 p.M. Her buddy Nickole Atkinson showed up on the house. Shanann wasn't returning her messages, both. Nickole referred to as Chris, he stated, "and that's after I got here domestic after which walked within the residence and…Not anything changed into here…I mean, she wasn't here, the youngsters weren't right here, no one become right here."
Meanwhile, Nickole additionally known as the police to ask for a well-being take a look at whilst nobody answered the door. They discovered Shanann's cellular phone filled among the couch cushions, her handbag in the kitchen and a suitcase on the foot of the stairs. Frederick Police contacted the FBI and Colorado Bureau of Investigation for help, and urged the public's assist in finding the missing mom and kids.
Chris stated he was hoping his own family changed into safe, anyplace they have been. "Last night time…I had each mild in the residence on, I was hoping that I might simply get simply ran over by the kids going for walks within the door and much like barrel-speeding me," he informed Denver 7, "but it failed to happen and it changed into just a annoying night time trying to be right here."
Chris endured, "I imply, my children are my life…Those smiles mild up my lifestyles." He said he missed telling them they had to devour their dinner in any other case they would not get dessert, and seeing them "cuddled up" on their Disney-themed child-length couches, looking Bubble Guppies. "It turned into tearing me aside closing night time…To go into their rooms and…Know that I wasn't going to turn their rain machines on and understand that I wasn't going to turn their display on and recognize I wasn't going to kiss them… That's why final night changed into simply horrible."
That element may additionally were real.
Asked if he and Shanann had argued at all before he closing saw her, Chris admitted that they had an "emotional communique." He told another information outlet that day, "She said she become going to a friend's residence with the kids and that's the final issue I heard, and that was it. It become very vague."
He did no longer percentage that that they had spent 5 weeks apart that summer season, or that he had informed his spouse their marriage become over and she or he had informed him that he would in no way see their ladies again.
"I leave out and love you so much," Shanann, who turned into 15 weeks pregnant with their son, texted him from Scottsdale, in which she attended a leadership seminar for her work as a emblem promoter for the dietary complement agency Le-Vel. "I am nonetheless in surprise we are having a touch boy! I'm so excited and satisfied!"
Shanann had published the video of her pregnancy display in June, wherein Chris walked in to discover her carrying a T-blouse analyzing "Oops we did it once more," to which he responded, "Really? That's wonderful."
She had also left Chris a two-web page handwritten letter. During their time apart, she wrote, "I missed looking you chortle and play with the children. I love seeing their smile with you."
But on the morning of Aug. 7, she had texted a pal (in line with messages discovered in court files), "Chris instructed me last night he is scared to demise about this 1/3 baby. And he is happy with just Bella and Celeste and doesn't want some other child." When the friend tried to reassure her that everything might be exceptional once the baby arrived, Shanann answered, "He has modified. I don't know who he is…He hasn't touched me all week, kissed me, talked to me besides for after I'm trying to determine out what is inaccurate."
Which explained every other textual content she despatched to Chris during her weekend away: "Thank you for letting me hold you this morning, it felt excellent."
Nickole, who turned into on the trip to Arizona with Shanann, advised the officer who spoke back to her first call that she had certainly dropped her friend off at 2 a.M. After they returned to Frederick, and he or she had been out of kinds. "She changed into very distraught over the weekend, wasn't ingesting normally, or drinking," Nickole said, "and we kept trying to pressure it on her."
In some other textual content she sent to her husband, discovered within the 2020 Netflix documentary American Murder: The Family Next Door, Shanann wrote, "I realized [during] this ride what's lacking in our courting! It's only one way emotions and emotions. I can not come again like this. I want you to fulfill me halfway. You do not recollect others at all, nor consider feelings."
Another message read, "I try to come up with space, but at the same time as you're operating and living the bachelor existence I'm carrying our 3rd and combating with two kids every day and looking to work and make money. It's now not difficult texting love you and omit you. If you don't imply it then I get it, however we need to speak. I saved looking at my telephone all night and no response from you. Like significantly! We failed to simply begin dating yesterday! We've been together 8 years and feature 2.Five youngsters collectively."
Chris also told Denver 7, "If they're secure, they're coming back, however if they are now not…This has got to stop…Somebody has to return ahead."
The following night time, Wednesday, Aug. 15, he turned into arrested. On Thursday, authorities located three our bodies: Shanann became buried in a shallow grave approximately forty miles east of their home at a piece website belonging to her husband's former agency (which fired him whilst he changed into taken into custody) and Bella and Cece had been located in crude-oil storage drums, their bodies having been submerged in oil for 4 days.
Chris later told investigators in a prison interview that he "prayed for the HazMat employees and every person else who needed to see the aftermath."
On Aug. 21, he become charged with 3 counts of first-diploma murder, plus two counts of homicide of a child younger than 12 even as "in a function of believe," three counts of tampering with a deceased human body and illegal termination of a being pregnant.
In court docket that day, bail became denied and Watts did not input a plea, but he had already admitted to authorities that he had strangled Shanann in a rage and disposed of all three bodies. However, in line with an arrest affidavit, he first claimed that she killed their daughters, that Bella was already lifeless by the point he noticed at the child reveal display Shanann choking Celeste upstairs. It turned into a model of occasions that investigators weren't buying.
Shanann's father, Frank Rzucek, wept at the listening to and her brother, Frank Jr., glared at Chris at some point of. "Yes, sir," changed into all Chris stated when the decide requested if he understood that he should face the demise penalty if convicted of homicide.
Meanwhile, in the course of barely a week, the relatably-frazzled-however-satisfied own family tableau that Shanann supplied to maximum of the sector—in character and particularly online—had shattered absolutely.
Chris' dad and mom, Cindy and Ronnie Watts, failed to attend their son's 2012 wedding, his mom later informed North Carolina's 9News, "because Shanann and I simply couldn't get along. I did not just like the way she treated him."
And after Chris' arrest, newshounds quickly unearthed the family's June 2015 bankruptcy filing, which indicated that, with a combined $ninety,000 income in 2014, they were drowning underneath month-to-month $three,000 loan bills and $600 car payments, pupil loans, medical bills and credit card debt and owed $70,000 (now not including the mortgage). At the time, Chris had been operating at Anadarko for 6 months with a profits of $61,500 a year, in line with the submitting, and Shanann made $18 an hour answering phones at a children's health facility call center. They had $864 of their joint checking account.
In January 2016 she commenced running with Le-Vel. "Every unmarried character that linked together with her felt her mild," co-employee Cynthia DeRossett informed CBS affiliate KPHO after Shanann's demise, noting that she appeared her regular upbeat self over the weekend in Arizona. "Never in 1000 years might you watched this."
But a few pals knew that Shanann and Chris have been having problems—though, like Cynthia, no one suspected "this" should take place.
Ashley Bell, whose daughter performed with Bella and Cece, instructed CBS News after the bodies were observed, "Those two little girls are so innocent and so candy, and I just don't apprehend how you can do this for your own family." As for Shanann, Ashley said, "I stored telling myself, 'No, no, no. He wouldn't do something to her.'"
Friend Amanda Thayer informed the hole, "It got here to her mind that in all likelihood he might be cheating."
Frankie Jr., Shanann's best sibling, wrote on Facebook, per CNN, "I simply want 30 seconds alone with that heartless psychopath. May Satan have mercy on his soul. Doesn't take a genius to recognize who changed into suspect…I simply want to understand why."
While it wouldn't be publicly recognized for some months, Shanann had suspected correctly.
Chris admitted to investigators that he'd been having an affair with co-worker Nichol Kessinger. They met in June 2018, he said, and he stayed with her nearly each night time whilst his wife and youngsters had been in North Carolina for weeks travelling own family.
In September 2018, the Denver Post stated that the defendant's legal professionals had requested an investigation into alleged leaks from law enforcement or prosecutors approximately the case to the media, however the Weld County District Attorney's Office maintained that the click, at the same time as they quoted a few unnamed sources, were specially utilizing professional files, which include Chris' arrest affidavit, of their reporting.
"Driven in big element via the now unnerving pleas of assist made by using the defendant himself, neighborhood network participants and people around the us of a followed constant information reports of the search for Shanann, Belle, and Celeste Watts," read the prosecution's reaction. "Now that [the] defendant has been charged with murdering his own family and doing away with their deceased bodies, countrywide media interest in the case is possibly to persist."
But even as some convicted murderers have on appeal pointed to "media hobby" because the reason why they supposedly did not get a honest trial—Scott Peterson's attorneys have surely alleged as a lot within the path of fighting to overturn his first-diploma homicide conviction for killing his pregnant wife, Laci—Chris opted to position a stop to the court cases himself. He pleaded guilty to all 3 murders on Nov. 6, 2018, and became sentenced to existence in prison five times over.
Her call had been redacted from Chris Watts and Shanann met in 2010 in their domestic nation of North Carolina and were given married on Nov. 3, 2012. ' arrest file, retaining her out of the news for awhile, but after he confessed Nichol Kessinger told the Denver Post that, on the day Shanann, Bella and Cece went missing, Chris had texted her to check in, announcing he'd been busy. They conversed commonly at some point of paintings hours, she stated, but at three:forty five p.M. He texted her saying that his circle of relatives turned into "long gone." He later informed her Shanann and the kids went to a play date and never got here home. He turned into very unemotional about it, she recalled.
When she noticed on the information that Shanann were pregnant, she was admittedly shocked. "I notion, If he became able to lie to me and conceal some thing that large, what else changed into he mendacity approximately?" Nichol stated.
All of his communications after that "regarded off," she said, and "it were given to a degree that he was telling me so many lies that I finally advised him that I did now not need to talk to him again till his own family was discovered."
On the morning of Aug. 15, earlier than Chris changed into arrested, Nichol known as the police and instructed them she'd been having an affair with the missing lady's husband. They connected her with the FBI, and hours later, Chris become in handcuffs.
"I just wanted to help," Nichol explained. "With a pregnant girl and two kids missing, I was going to do whatever that I ought to."
Ultimately, she didn't doubt that he killed all 3 of them. "He's a liar," she said. "He lied about everything."
Per notes and audio recordings shared with reporters from an interview with federal investigators carried out Feb. 18, 2019, Chris painted a photograph of his affair as an break out from the pressures of own family lifestyles. He stated that Nichol "wanted to have intercourse all of the time" and "he never had to fear approximately saying some thing silly round [her] and by no means had to plot what he turned into going to say when he become with her." Nichol knew he became married, he stated, but "lied" and pretended she failed to. (He also denied ever having sexual encounters with guys, one guy from Wyoming having come forward claiming he met Chris on WhatsApp and that they had an affair. Chris said he never had "any gay reviews or pastimes within the past.")
Nichol advised the Denver Post that Chris had advised her he changed into on the tail give up of divorce complaints.
He failed to blame the affair for his moves, however it may have "accelerated the procedure," he said. Over the course of 5 hours, he proceeded to speak openly for the first time about what he did, despite the fact that he left lots of questions unanswered about why and how he may want to do it.
On the morning he killed his own family, Chris said, Shanann had confronted him about being unfaithful, announcing she knew "there has been someone else." He denied it, but agreed that their marriage was in all likelihood over and advised Shanann that he didn't love her.
He stated that she then informed him he'd in no way see the children once more. And then he strangled her in their mattress. Bella walked into the room and requested, "What's incorrect with Mommy?" he recalled. Chris said she did not experience desirable. (Chris additionally mentioned that it was a detective who first asked him if Shanann had possibly killed the children, so he "simply went with it" at the time. In a December 2019 episode of Oxygen's Criminal Confessions, one of the dealers who first interviewed him, Tammy Lee of the CBI, explained, "Vilifying Shanann, it's a method that we will use to eventually get the actual fact. We just needed to discover Shanann and the girls.")
So, Chris endured, he wrapped Shanann's body in a sheet and positioned her in the backseat of his truck on the floor, Bella crying as he dragged her dead mom down the stairs. He put Bella and Cece inside the backseat, too, then drove them to the oil website, where he smothered Cece together with her own blanket. He said that Bella asked him softly, "Is the equal thing gonna take place to me as Cece?'"
Her closing phrases have been "Daddy, no!" and she or he struggled as he smothered her, Chris remembered. He advised the interviewers he kept pictures of his late spouse and youngsters in his cell and "talks to them every morning and every night."
Every time I reflect onconsideration on it, I'm much like, did I understand I was going to try this before I got on pinnacle of her?" he said of killing Shanann. "It just felt like there has been already something in my thoughts that turned into implanted that I became gonna do it and once I wakened that morning it turned into gonna manifest and I had no manage over it."
And he has his sympathizers.
In a July 2019 episode of HLN's Lies, Crimes & Video, a female recognized as Anna—one in all two girls journeying Chris in jail on the time—said on camera, "When Chris talks to me approximately Shanann, he talks about how brilliant she became and what sort of he cherished her. Chris seems like he had a break in truth like he snapped, like he changed into demon-possessed."
Another lady, Cheryln Cadle, corresponded with him a lot she got a e book out of it, Letters From Christopher, launched in October 2019.
More lately, Christa Richello, a clinical psychologist who started out writing to Chris Watts and Shanann met in 2010 in their domestic nation of North Carolina and were given married on Nov. 3, 2012. and is now engaged to his cellmate, stated on Lifetime's Cellmate Secrets, "I observed it very peculiar, the manner the case was handled. I've in no way visible a case in records that anyone took a plea agreement so fast, a case become completely ended and now not investigated."
A couple weeks after her son pleaded guilty, Cindy Watts became nevertheless wondering why Chris Watts and Shanann met in 2010 in their domestic nation of North Carolina and were given married on Nov. 3, 2012. didn't want an ordeal, telling 9News in Spring Lake, N.C., that his attorney had reduce off contact between Chris Watts and Shanann met in 2010 in their domestic nation of North Carolina and were given married on Nov. 3, 2012. and their own family. (The attorney failed to reply to 9News' request for remark about that declare.)
"It could have helped us a lot to be able to talk to him," she said. "I wouldn't need to undergo all this now. Everything seems to be shrouded in secrecy. Just inform us what is going on."
After his arrest, Chris Watts and Shanann met in 2010 in their domestic nation of North Carolina and were given married on Nov. 3, 2012. had requested to peer his dad, and authorities finally let Ronnie Watts into the interview room, where Chris then claimed that he had strangled Shanann after she killed the women.
"It become pretty much intestine-wrenching to hear Chris speak approximately the fact that he murdered his wife to his personal father," CBI agent Tammy Lee said on Criminal Confessions. "It was the topic of Shanann doing something to the women, that I had simply given him prior to leaving the room. But to virtually hear that pop out of his mouth, become shocking."
A source near Chris advised People at the time that he took the plea due to the fact "there has been physical evidence and his own words that could convict him. His tale did not work. He got irritated. He didn't need to plead guilty. But he sincerely had no choice, thinking about the evidence. It took a little little bit of time for him to return around, but he did."
"There became some yelling, and some crying," the source additionally stated. "But in the end he mentioned that his life changed into over after he killed Shanann. He could were dealing with years of legal challenges, and great-case situation he would have been acquitted. Worst-case scenario, he gets placed to demise."
Chris "is not the sociopath next door. He's not a psychopath," Cindy insisted to 9News. Despite his confession, she nonetheless questioned if Chris Watts and Shanann met in 2010 in their domestic nation of North Carolina and were given married on Nov. 3, 2012. clearly did kill the kids—however either way the notion of him doing so "scares me to demise," she admitted. "It scares me to death to think that he may want to have performed all of this. And I don't wanna move there. I don't wanna go there now."
In the meantime, she overlooked her grandchildren. "Bella became similar to Chris," Cindy stated. "Shy, careful, conservative. Cece turned into a ball of fireplace. I mean she was fearless—absolutely fearless. She just loved to run, run, run, run, run. They have been high-quality. It breaks my coronary heart to know that they're no longer here. They were lovely kids."
"I awaken every morning crying, you understand, thinking this is not going to be what will occur each single day," she brought. "It's in order that difficult to get through it. I just do not know the way to get through it."
But that became before Chris Watts and Shanann met in 2010 in their domestic nation of North Carolina and were given married on Nov. 3, 2012. gave his horrifying recollection of what truly befell to government. Cindy, along side the relaxation of the sector, would hear from her son soon enough.
CBI agent Tammy Lee defined why she and fellow investigators went lower back to Chris Watts and Shanann met in 2010 in their domestic nation of North Carolina and were given married on Nov. 3, 2012. in prison—he became transferred from Colorado to an undisclosed facility in Wisconsin—in February 2019. "I had to hear him say that Shanann did now not homicide her youngsters," she said. "I had to have that come out of his mouth."
Tagged: Chris Watts now Where is Chris Watts now 2021
Previous: Your Guide to GetResponse Pricing (Oct 2021)
Next: 5 ways to get extra views on Tiktok motion pictures


Hi everyone, please can someone explain better why those who exercise regularly should know their heart rate zones? Is it really that necessary? I would like to hear your opinions. Thanks in advance.
Sorry about the delay in approving this post - it got stuck in the approval queue somehow!
Here's an article attached by Joe Beer (copyright Peak Performance) that explains his philosophy on HR zones.


Hello! My name is Michelle and I am a painter, photographer, traveler, and digital content creator. For years, it's been a dream of mine to travel the world and I'm finally making it a reality.
I love throwing myself into a project, learning a new skill, and pushing myself outside my comfort zone. Currently, I work as a social media manager for small businesses. I manage accounts remotely, send email blasts, and enable business owners to expand their digital presence. I've spent a lot of time investing in this work, fine-tuning my photography/video skills, and building my own website.
However, I recently turned 25, and now that I have a stream of income in place, I'd like to focus my energy on things that truly fascinate and challenge me. I love being outside, hiking, rock climbing, and finding adventure. I love meeting strangers and I think travel is one of the best things one can do for their soul.
I also really love sitting outside with a paintbrush and canvas while I paint massive mountains and sprawling landscapes that lie before me. I find happiness in the quiet peace that fills my head when I have a brush in my hand. If you are interested in seeing my work, you can find it at TheLostJournalist.com.
I've found that connecting with locals opens me up to the local community more than staying at a hotel or hostel. I like when home owners leave a list of local favorites and suggest a good place to hang/eat/see a show/etc.
I also enjoy having fury friends to look after. Often, when I travel, my whole routine is thrown off. Sleep is lost, I don't eat well, and my daily routine disappears. House sitting gives me responsibilities, which enables me to keep to a schedule.
I like waking up and immediately having an animal to look after. It means I'm up right away, outside in the sun, making coffee, and starting my day on the right foot.
It also means I have a sweet companion to keep me company. Whether it's a barking ball of energy or a quiet cat, animals are great to have around. Immersing myself in a new city can be scary, but having a fluffy companion makes the new setting so much better.
I don't have a ton of experience as a house sitter, but I have had some pretty notable ones. I've always loved animals and I grew up with a dog, four cats, and two bunnies (not all at the same time).
For me, house sitting started in 2016 when a friend referred me to her neighbor. The neighbor had rescued nine very sweet, loving cats at her home on Long Island.
Eight of the cats were highly independent, but one of them was a sweet, old rescue who had had a very tough life. His name was Old One-Eye, a one-eyed diabetic cat who required a shot of insulin every twelve hours. The shot had to be administrated with a needle halfway through his meal at 7am and 7pm. He was very sweet and while he hated getting the shot, he was good with me and trusted me.
I also fed and cleaned up after all the cats, brought in the mail, and looked after other responsibilities in the house. When I watched these cats, I would stay in the guest bedroom. I liked that experience and used it to pivot to other jobs.
The next house sitting job was with a family friend in New Jersey who had a rambunctious Labrador named Murphy. My duties with Murph were to feed him twice daily, walk him, play with him, give him treats when he earned them, and shower him with love. At the time, I was working remotely as a video editor so I liked breaking up my day with duties looking after the dog. It was fun and I savored that week in the sunshine with Murphy. The house sat by a lake so in the late afternoon, Murphy and I would walk along the water and watch the sunset.
And that's all the experience I have. It isn't much but it feels significant to me because it came with a lot of responsibility.
My goal is to use house sitting and helping others to pivot toward a life of travel, adventure, and new experiences. I would really like to help people keep their mind at ease when they're away from home and if it's the right fit, I'd like to look after your animals for you.
I recommend Michelle for pet sitting and house sitting, have known her for a few months and she is very nice. I have not had any problems with her living at my house. She keeps her stuff organized and cleans up.
Michelle has house/cat sat for us on many occasions . She was great with the cats and the house was always clean and neat when we returned. We were happy to have her and the kitties were too!!
Michelle and I have been room mates for the past 6 months. I can definitely say with full confidence that Michelle is 100% trustworthy and responsible. She cleans up after herself and is quiet and respectful. I feel very fortunate to have such a pleasant room mate and I highly recommend her.
I have lived with Michelle for close to a year, and she's very easy to live with. She's quiet and respectful of our shared space. She's easy with splitting household responsibility, and pulls her weight. I have no question that she will have nothing but respect for your home, and will treat it as if it were her own.


Location: 1 Westfield Avenue, London E20 1HZ.
We offer all employees the opportunity to make day-to-day choices about how and where they work. All employees have the right to request flexible working, regardless of length of service.
Playing a key role on the Executive Team, the Deputy Executive Director, Individual Giving is a new post that will drive direct marketing income, and ensure our direct marketing and individual giving approach is not only effective today, but fit for purpose in the future. This includes adapting to new audiences and to new ways of generating income, and having a strong digital focus.
The Directorate is currently made up of 4 teams: Direct Marketing, Public Fundraising, Gifts in Wills and Supporter Services with approximately 50 staff. Between them, these teams currently deliver approximately £48m (57% of the organisation's voluntary income).
The successful candidate will be responsible for enabling and leading the directorate to meet our ambitious strategic goals of increasing income and influence through mass engagement in a complex and changing landscape. This will involve innovative, future focused, leading edge approaches to driving individual giving, and will require an integrated organisational approach.
This role reports to the Executive Director who is responsible for the overall management of Unicef UK, working to realise Unicef's vision for children worldwide, and achieve the organisation's advocacy and fundraising objectives. Together with the Executive team, this person will lead collaboration and integration with other functions, to focus on building engagement with the public in order to deliver growth in income and influence for children's rights.
In addition to driving forward Unicef UK's Individual Giving, the post holder works alongside the Deputy Executive Director, Partnerships to drive fundraising strategy as part of the dynamic overall fundraising strategy for Unicef UK.
As part of the Executive team, we are looking for an exceptional leader who is able to inspire others to raise their game, and to use their talent, skills and experience to deliver the Unicef UK vision.


No, seriously, I mean it this time!
Yes, I know I said this when I'd sold 350 kits, but I kept getting orders and kept making kits, because I hate saying no to people. Now the total is 500 550 kits sold, and I have got to the end of the waiting list, and I really, really must stop sometime and do something else!
There will be a final batch of 50 kits in January 2012 (or when I get 50 orders).
There are still plenty of kits available in the final batch, and any extra pre-orders I receive will go on the waiting list, just in case I change my mind and do another one-off batch next year.
Like last time, I fully agree this is some shameless self-promotion to boost sales so I can finish with my routine 50 kit batch and sell off all the PCBs and parts I have in stock.
Any news on this, Wilba?
I E-Mailed you a few weeks ago and hadn't heard anything.
Would love to snag one from you.
I understand the need for a break. You deserve it!
Well, I guess another run can be warranted given that the miniaturized SwinSID is available now.
I've been occupying myself by repairing dead C64s and have a nice stock of SIDs for this project and a future mb-6582.
I pre-ordered a while ago but I've not heard from Wilba, does this mean I missed out on getting one?
I really want to build this kit.
He sent out order confirmations on the 16th January and invoiced me on Jan 31st.
I'm all paid up and waiting with a pair of 8580R5s and a pair of 6581s to play with.
I got a confirmation email January 5, but have not heard anything since.
is this happening at all? I want to get one if possible please.
I've been very busy lately and I have not replied to recent emails, sorry.
Batch #23/#24 will be posted this week.
Batch #25/#26 (potentially the absolute final batch ever) has 30 confirmed orders, and 20 empty places. It will be arranged soon.
If you've emailed a pre-order recently, I'll reply ASAP.
arrived today - thanks Jason. Need to go but some bits and pieces for my build then I'll get on it.
Thanks Wilba! Now it's time to crank some tunes and get to soldering!
Hi Wilba! I need two kits :rolleyes:. Send PM to you.
I've put a sale request in on the appropriate thread for anyone looking to get an un-built kit from batch #21/#22 and 2x 8580R5's quick and potentially cheaper (not to under-cut you Wilba! I've recently been made redundant @ work & neither have the time to put into building it).
Has the sammichSID reached the end? I have put in an order for one and have not heard any word. Got a couple of SID's sittin, looking for a good home! Thanks for any info!
Same exact situation here! I'm worried these are gone for good.
Hmm... Well, if you got SIDs waiting for a good home and sammich is gone - then all you have to do is to build it with modules instead. No problem at all.
Same here... guessing I missed the boat?
Joined forum looking for info on this. How much harder is the midibox SID to build i am guessing alot.
If you are refering to the MB-6852, I would say it is very well documented and might take a bit longer because it has more components, but is not necessarily more difficult to build. PCBs and semi-kits are available from SmashTV, as well as most other components necessary.
After receiving many emails about sammichSID since the "final batch" finished, I decided to do two more batches. One batch I am doing right now and trying hard to get in the post so they arrive before Christmas. There are still kits from this batch available.
The 2nd batch will probably happen next year sometime after I get close to 50 more pre-orders.
So if you read this message, just contact me via my email address (not PM) and I'll either a) have a kit to sell immediately or b) put you on a waiting list.


pantheon Archives - OMG! Ubuntu!
elementary developers have shown off a small slick-looking calculator utility perfectly matched to the Pantheon desktop experience.
Today saw news of 'Slingshot' - a new application launcher project headed up by the elementary team - leak in to the wild. But just what is it and what does it form part of? Something rather special, it turns out.


text:
St Mary's Campus
Norfolk Place, London, W2 1PG
St Mary's Campus is part of:
About St Mary's Campus
Imperial College London is a science-based institution in the heart of London with a reputation for excellence in teaching and research. It is consistently rated amongst the world's best universities.
Our research-led institution fosters excellence in a diverse and supportive community. We welcome the talents and commitment of disabled students and staff, and appreciate the expertise and skills that all members of Imperial College London bring to the College.
In keeping with our Disability Equality Scheme the College aims to promote equality of opportunity for disabled people.
We also have a dedicated Disability Advisory Service which provides a variety of support initiatives in order to enable students to access studies and achieve their full potential.
For more information on the St Mary's Campus, see the university Campus maps page.
Search for Access Guides and Routes within St Mary's Campus
Featured Access Guides
View all Access Guides
Access Guides
SMMS 145 - Sir Roger Bannister Lecture Theatre
St Mary's Medical School, St Mary's Campus, Norfolk Place, London, W2 1PG
View this guide
SMMS 210 - Anthony De Rothschild Lecture Theatre
St Mary's Medical School
St Mary's Campus, Norfolk Place, London, W2 1PG
Buildings and services
Teaching Rooms
Thousands of Access Guides across the UK and Ireland


The word 'responsibility' is an interesting phrase. It means to 'respond' and be able to see another's point of view. Power only comes from relationships. It means to be able to change reality. I do not mean in a physical way -but in a spiritual inclination. To change reality in a spiritual way however -is to affect the physical plane. What you envision in your mind eventually becomes a true thing. Power is married to responsibility -and comes out of the society you are surrounded with. To respond means to take power over life. To be pro-active rather than re-active is to pay attention to the details. To face the future and be adaptive to any point of view is to be able to accept other arguments. To be expanded in the process is to accept solutions.
Power is a thing we lose in our childhood. We are overcome in a world of giants and so become submissive adults. We seek power in all the things of experience. We seek it in abusive and dysfunctional relationships. Power and the reclaiming of it is always a dangerous occupation. In a positive way we take it back into our souls through creativity and expression. If we channel our energies into artwork -we are taking part in a revelatory and healing possibility. Power is a thing of union and re-union. Sometimes we take a journey into darkness – power is the returning to the community and also responsibility. To respond is to give of yourself -in friendship and in art.
To respond is to survive any danger -a sort of strategy of living. To respond means to overcome difficulties in a collective way. In isolation we strive to replicate ourselves in culture and visions. However it is so much better to create relationships rather then to be a solitary soul evoking a nebulous world of reasons. We balance the self with other selves. To have responsibility is to know that freedom is to be married to some sense of duty. This duty is a thing that comes from knowing we are only as good as the ones who love us. This is an alternative ideal of duty -that arises out of loyalty to others. Duty is a problematic thing -I do not speak of duty to a machine or company. I speak of fractured selves – to be whole in the way others look at us.
In an argument nothing is given or received. We face each other -and forget to learn from another. In this way we kill the spirit of the other – bigotry is a sort of murder of mind and intellect. We put up the wall of denial against any sort of invasion. We are afraid of being assimilated. We are afraid of fading away. But what are we guarding really? We are defending ourselves against a perceived enemy. We are locking the door tightly against any storm or consequence. What is the function of art -but to expand ourselves and abolish limitations? We are taken out of our narcissism -to see others as extensions of ourselves. How we respond depends on our ability to overcome egoistic strivings. The ego is what say's 'mine'. It cannot see 'you' because it is a child of infantile processing – it is the soul caught inside dependancy. To be independent is not to be apart from the community. It is a thing we are when we invest in others. To be responsible is to contribute to the 'gestalt mind'. In every culture there is the central well of memory. The artist is the one who takes water from the well and gives it to his fellows. In the honing of his craft -he seeks to improve this skill. In this way he is always a giving thing and never hesitates between life and art -for both are the same thing.