Twisted Benevolence

Twisted Benevolence
 

The Book, Available for pre-order from silverleafbooks.com and Amazon

     Twisted Benevolence,  is the third book to continue the saga of John Livingston Harvard.  In this installment of the Twisted series, John finds himself working for the government once again, but this time as an undercover agent for the F.B.I.  He and Frank Carlotta, a Captain from the local Sheriff’s Department have teamed up as temporary agents.  Because of their unique recent history of successes in dealing with the  Coeptus Guild, a shadowy consortium of individuals who have terrorized John and his family in the past, the pair have been brought onboard and tasked with uncovering the latest plot by the nefarious group.
     Due to the losses suffered by the hands of John and Frank, it appears that this time the Guild have taken a different route to realize their goals.  Though the new agents are unaware of the exact nature of the change as they begin their investigation, they will eventually learn that the Guild have stooped to kidnapping children.  Not just any child, but only those of genius IQ’s who they send to an isolated, remote school to further their education, but not from any feelings of benevolence, only for the profit of the Coeptus Guild.
     John and his fellow agent must first discover what it is that the Guild is up to.  Then they must figure out a way to save the children because as they will soon find out, the Guild will stop at nothing to prevent the discovery of their plot... even if it means the ultimate “cleaning,” of  the entire project.  Untold number of lives are at stake and the only question becomes, who will live... and who will die?

Excerpt from Chapter 1

“There is no truer cause of unhappiness amongst men than, where naturally expecting charity and benevolence, they receive harm and vexation.”
Francis Rabelals

     Rosalie Mendez could not decide if she was a happy camper or not.  She was staring out her third story
window as her math instructor droned on and on about, it seemed to her, the same thing.  Some dodo head in the back row just wasn’t getting it, which was a little unusual since all of her classmates were very bright.  She was bored since math was her specialty.  She understood and could readily perform multiplication from the age of four.  Rosalie was now eleven and she was way above that level of math, as was everyone else in the room, though she currently had an increasing interest in the medical field.
So now she sat, staring out at the rolling hills and woods that surrounded the facility and wondered if she was happy or not.  A year ago, she could have answered that question with an unqualified, “Yes!”  Or, “Si,” in her case.  She, her parents and her two other siblings had lived in motels and flop houses for as long as she could remember.  They were poor, dirt poor.  She did vaguely remember living in a small house, more rightly called a shack in Mexico, but that had been a very long time ago.
That had been before her loving parents had discovered what an especially bright child she was.  Coming from generations of Mexican peasants, no one in the area had ever remembered a child as smart as Rosalie and all agreed that it was a shame that she couldn’t get a better education.
Which was why her father decided that they needed to move to the United States.  Of course, they had little money and no chance of getting into the country legally.  So they did it in the time honored fashion of crossing the border in the middle of the night, in the middle of the desert.  They had crossed with a group of other immigrants, one of whom had been bitten by a rattlesnake.  The group had stopped only briefly before leaving the stricken woman out there, alone, to survive as best she could.  Her father had been very upset, but in the end had agreed with everyone else that they could not afford to be caught.  The man they had paid to lead them across the border promised he would notify the authorities as soon as everyone else was safe.  To this day, Rosalie never knew if the man had kept that promise or not.  She thought not.
After days of difficult, terrifying travel, they managed to find themselves in a small, two story bungalow on the north side of Chicago in a predominately hispanic neighborhood.  They lived there with four other large families and though the conditions were cramped, Rosalie didn’t care.  She was an unusually happy child and could adapt to almost anything.  She had never seen such relative opulence.  It was a wonderful place!  She, as was her way, made friends with everyone in the place almost immediately and they responded in kind.  What about her was there not to like?   Rosalie was always polite and as considerate of others as any child her age could be, always wanting to please.
But as the months passed, her parents became increasingly perturbed by the crowded conditions.  People slept in every chair, on every table and clear floor space available, including the bathtub and the closets!  Her father had managed to get a job at a construction company and her mother cleaned houses.  They decided that they made enough money to get a room at a cheap, smelly motel that rented rooms by the week and so they had moved.  It was still crowded, but nothing like it had been.  Their little family at least had some semblance of normalcy and Rosalie was enrolled in the local public school.  Though it may not have been the best school by American standards, it was a far, far better education than they could ever have hoped for in their little town in Mexico.
Years passed and they moved from hotel to hotel as income dictated.  But no matter where they moved, Rosalie’s parents made sure that she, her younger brother and sister, always attended the same school.  They often used the address of their original bungalow to qualify for the same district and then painstakingly drove the children to school each morning and picked them up each night.  Rosalie excelled, always at the top of her class.  Her parents provided for her and her siblings as best they could and they even though they were poor, they were a happy and loving family.
Then, a year ago, she had been called to the principles office.  Two women who she had never seen before were waiting for her.  She was told that there had been a terrible accident and both of her parents were critically injured.  The two women were from the Department of Children and Family Services, DCFS, and were there to take her to the hospital to be with them.
A tearful Rosalie climbed into their car and they drove from the school grounds.  One of the women received a call on her cell phone and after hanging up, informed Rosalie in a somber and gentle tone that her parents were dead.  She was stunned!  Her whole, happy little world crumbled around her.  She barely heard the women as they told her that they would be taking her to stay with someone else while they searched for family members to take her in.  She numbly asked about her brother and sister and was told that others from DCFS would also attend to them and she would see them soon.
But she never did.  The next day she was whisked aboard a private plane that landed at a remote airfield.  That in itself was a wonder to her for she had only seen an airplane from a distance, let alone flown on one.  She was then taken to the facility in which she now sat.  She was provided with her own, dormitory style room which she shared with another girl about the same age.
Compared to her previous living conditions, it was luxurious.  She even had her own laptop computer, though no access to the internet.  Having had little experience with that mysterious digital world, she didn’t miss it and all the programs she needed were either loaded onto her computer already, or she had access to them via the school’s in-house network.  She was provided with new clothes and more food than she could ever have imagined.  And the teachers!  She soaked up the knowledge like a sponge, though she soon found that in spite of the fact that she was still consistently at or near the top of her class, she had to work very hard to keep up with her classmates.  She didn’t realize it, but the facts were that while most children her age were in the seventh grade, her class’s current curriculum was at a college Freshman level!
Notwithstanding the elevated school level, everyone here was very nice, helpful and provided her with everything a child would need.  Even toys were provided, though most of them had some sort of educational value.  Christmas and all of the holidays were celebrated and Rosalie and most of the other children here were as happy as any orphan could be.
But she missed her family, especially her Mama and Papa.  Whenever she asked about her brother and sister, she was told that they had been placed with other families.  Which, they said, was good, but they were not as fortunate as she was to have been placed in such a fine environment.  That certainly seemed to be true, but she still missed her family and sometimes she even missed their cramped little motel room living quarters, eating McDonalds on the bed or celebrating Thanksgiving with a Walmart pre-roasted chicken.  At least they were all together then.
Her attention and her gaze returned to her math instructor, who was furiously writing on the black board as he continued to clarify the problem that had confounded the dodo head.  Bored, her mind soon wandered once again.  She guessed that her lot in life was as good as she could hope for, given the circumstances.  But she so wanted to talk to her brother and sister.  She wondered where they were.  Were they happy?  Did they ever miss her?  There had to be a way to find them.  There just had to.


The Book, Available for pre-order from silverleafbooks.com and Amazon


     Twisted Benevolence,  is the third book to continue the saga of John Livingston Harvard.  In this installment of the Twisted series, John finds himself working for the government once again, but this time as an undercover agent for the F.B.I.  He and Frank Carlotta, a Captain
from the local Sheriff’s Department have teamed up as temporary agents.  Because of their unique recent history of successes in dealing with the  Coeptus Guild, a shadowy consortium of individuals who have terrorized John and his family in the past, the pair have been brought onboard and tasked with uncovering the latest plot by the nefarious group.

     Due to the losses suffered by the hands of John and Frank, it appears that this time the Guild have taken a different route to realize their goals.  Though the new agents are unaware of the exact nature of the change as they begin their investigation, they will eventually learn that the Guild have stooped to kidnapping children.  Not just any child, but only those of genius IQ’s who they send to an isolated, remote school to further their education, but not from any feelings of benevolence, only for the profit of the Coeptus Guild.

     John and his fellow agent must first discover what it is that the Guild is up to.  Then they must figure out a way to save the children because as they will soon find out, the Guild will stop at nothing to prevent the discovery of their plot... even if it means the ultimate “cleaning,” of  the entire project.  Untold number of lives are at stake and the only question becomes, who will live... and who will die?


Excerpt from Chapter 1


“There is no truer cause of unhappiness amongst men than, where naturally expecting charity and benevolence, they receive harm and vexation.”

Francis Rabelals


     Rosalie Mendez could not decide if she was a happy camper or not.  She was staring out her third story

window as her math instructor droned on and on about, it seemed to her, the same thing.  Some dodo head in the back row just wasn’t getting it, which was a little unusual since all of her classmates were very bright.  She was bored since math was her specialty.  She understood and could readily perform multiplication from the age of four.  Rosalie was now eleven and she was way above that level of math, as was everyone else in the room, though she currently had an increasing interest in the medical field.

So now she sat, staring out at the rolling hills and woods that surrounded the facility and wondered if she was happy or not.  A year ago, she could have answered that question with an unqualified, “Yes!”  Or, “Si,” in her case.  She, her parents and her two other siblings had lived in motels and flop houses for as long as she could remember.  They were poor, dirt poor.  She did vaguely remember living in a small house, more rightly called a shack in Mexico, but that had been a very long time ago.

That had been before her loving parents had discovered what an especially bright child she was.  Coming from generations of Mexican peasants, no one in the area had ever remembered a child as smart as Rosalie and all agreed that it was a shame that she couldn’t get a better education.

Which was why her father decided that they needed to move to the United States.  Of course, they had little money and no chance of getting into the country legally.  So they did it in the time honored fashion of crossing the border in the middle of the night, in the middle of the desert.  They had crossed with a group of other immigrants, one of whom had been bitten by a rattlesnake.  The group had stopped only briefly before leaving the stricken woman out there, alone, to survive as best she could.  Her father had been very upset, but in the end had agreed with everyone else that they could not afford to be caught.  The man they had paid to lead them across the border promised he would notify the authorities as soon as everyone else was safe.  To this day, Rosalie never knew if the man had kept that promise or not.  She thought not.

After days of difficult, terrifying travel, they managed to find themselves in a small, two story bungalow on the north side of Chicago in a predominately hispanic neighborhood.  They lived there with four other large families and though the conditions were cramped, Rosalie didn’t care.  She was an unusually happy child and could adapt to almost anything.  She had never seen such relative opulence.  It was a wonderful place!  She, as was her way, made friends with everyone in the place almost immediately and they responded in kind.  What about her was there not to like?   Rosalie was always polite and as considerate of others as any child her age could be, always wanting to please.

But as the months passed, her parents became increasingly perturbed by the crowded conditions.  People slept in every chair, on every table and clear floor space available, including the bathtub and the closets!  Her father had managed to get a job at a construction company and her mother cleaned houses.  They decided that they made enough money to get a room at a cheap, smelly motel that rented rooms by the week and so they had moved.  It was still crowded, but nothing like it had been.  Their little family at least had some semblance of normalcy and Rosalie was enrolled in the local public school.  Though it may not have been the best school by American standards, it was a far, far better education than they could ever have hoped for in their little town in Mexico.

Years passed and they moved from hotel to hotel as income dictated.  But no matter where they moved, Rosalie’s parents made sure that she, her younger brother and sister, always attended the same school.  They often used the address of their original bungalow to qualify for the same district and then painstakingly drove the children to school each morning and picked them up each night.  Rosalie excelled, always at the top of her class.  Her parents provided for her and her siblings as best they could and they even though they were poor, they were a happy and loving family.

Then, a year ago, she had been called to the principles office.  Two women who she had never seen before were waiting for her.  She was told that there had been a terrible accident and both of her parents were critically injured.  The two women were from the Department of Children and Family Services, DCFS, and were there to take her to the hospital to be with them.

A tearful Rosalie climbed into their car and they drove from the school grounds.  One of the women received a call on her cell phone and after hanging up, informed Rosalie in a somber and gentle tone that her parents were dead.  She was stunned!  Her whole, happy little world crumbled around her.  She barely heard the women as they told her that they would be taking her to stay with someone else while they searched for family members to take her in.  She numbly asked about her brother and sister and was told that others from DCFS would also attend to them and she would see them soon.

But she never did.  The next day she was whisked aboard a private plane that landed at a remote airfield.  That in itself was a wonder to her for she had only seen an airplane from a distance, let alone flown on one.  She was then taken to the facility in which she now sat.  She was provided with her own, dormitory style room which she shared with another girl about the same age.

Compared to her previous living conditions, it was luxurious.  She even had her own laptop computer, though no access to the internet.  Having had little experience with that mysterious digital world, she didn’t miss it and all the programs she needed were either loaded onto her computer already, or she had access to them via the school’s in-house network.  She was provided with new clothes and more food than she could ever have imagined.  And the teachers!  She soaked up the knowledge like a sponge, though she soon found that in spite of the fact that she was still consistently at or near the top of her class, she had to work very hard to keep up with her classmates.  She didn’t realize it, but the facts were that while most children her age were in the seventh grade, her class’s current curriculum was at a college Freshman level!

Notwithstanding the elevated school level, everyone here was very nice, helpful and provided her with everything a child would need.  Even toys were provided, though most of them had some sort of educational value.  Christmas and all of the holidays were celebrated and Rosalie and most of the other children here were as happy as any orphan could be.

But she missed her family, especially her Mama and Papa.  Whenever she asked about her brother and sister, she was told that they had been placed with other families.  Which, they said, was good, but they were not as fortunate as she was to have been placed in such a fine environment.  That certainly seemed to be true, but she still missed her family and sometimes she even missed their cramped little motel room living quarters, eating McDonalds on the bed or celebrating Thanksgiving with a Walmart pre-roasted chicken.  At least they were all together then.

Her attention and her gaze returned to her math instructor, who was furiously writing on the black board as he continued to clarify the problem that had confounded the dodo head.  Bored, her mind soon wandered once again.  She guessed that her lot in life was as good as she could hope for, given the circumstances.  But she so wanted to talk to her brother and sister.  She wondered where they were.  Were they happy?  Did they ever miss her?  There had to be a way to find them.  There just had to.

 

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