Why have the feds not cracked down on this human trafficking?
It’s not just in the Narco-States. It’s rampant, in most every large city in the United States, but what I’m referring to here, specifically, … is the Las Vegas connection.
When high-end prostitutes run from Vegas, trying to get out of ‘the business’, they soon find they’re in need of the drug they’ve become addicted to!
Their addiction, . . . was not by coincidence!
Anywhere in the country, when a dealer has a request for a certain drug he’s never heard of, and asks his distributor where he can get some, (I can’t name the drug here; I forgot what my brother told me it was called), . . . . soon, the word gets back to the organized crime outfit in Vegas and (3 very large men) show up at the dealer’s door, with an ample supply of the drug, but what they’re there for . . . . is the girls.
They pay the dealer, a finders fee and ‘convince him’ they’ll deliver the drug personally.
When they show up, they “escort the girls” back to Vegas, . . . where they “work”, in brothels, . . . . again.
That’s how it worked with the gals my brother had staying with him in his North Beach apartment . . . the two he’d picked up; Bob did that . . . he was no stranger to women, nor drugs. He’d made a call to his regular dealer and asked him to procure the drugs for his ‘guests’ and then they enjoyed each other’s ‘company’ for an evening . . . until a knock on the door, early the next morning.
When Bob told me of this, . . . . he drifted away for a few moments, . . . . remembering, . . . as if it were one of those memories permanently etched on his brain forever. The next time I visited him in San Francisco, he’d married Carol, from Quebec; it didn’t last; I didn’t expect it would. They seemed to be happy, most of the time, but you could just tell, he thought of those two and that night, often.
You see, the gals needing this drug were sex slaves and they were (according to Bob) good at what they did. And the guys from the outfit? They’d flown in on a private plane to pick them up and take them back. My brother didn’t intimidate easily – at least not on the street. He’d been his fleet’s boxing champion, but the mob was a different thing.
The drugs . . . . they’d been designed to keep them happy, and high . . . . and they do, . . . most of the time, at least that’s what Bob had said the girls claimed . . . it’s why they had to have it – why no other drug would do; they’d tried but the desire only got worse as other drugs hadn’t done it for them.
The drugs though, are just as much a mechanism for finding them, anywhere in the world, as they are to keep them high, happy, and submissive! Once they’re on this ‘concoction’, they don’t get off. And once this mix of very specific illegal drugs, is asked for (the girls know it only by its’ street name), . . . . no other drug would do; it’s a dead giveaway as to where they are!
Addiction is like that!
A beautiful prostitute makes too much money for them to just let her walk away! These guys were not just regular ‘pimps’, … they made it apparent to Bob somehow, they were organized crime . . . .
Besides, look at the spin-offs of the “business”! It wasn’t just the lucrative, un-taxed, cash-up-front business.
The real money, comes from those who end up blackmailed for their indiscretions in Vegas? You don’t believe that lie – – – “what happens in Vegas . . . stays in Vegas”, do you?
When that “john”, … turned out to be someone of import, then you can make book on it – the mob owned them as well!