To be viciously attacked by a jealous monster in the stairwell of the building I live, brought back the terror and grief that haunts me this day, of finding that butchered puppy behind the toilet. I had just heard it cries as these two monsters stabbed it, and cut its throat. I screamed at them to get out of that appartment.
“You come in here. We got something for you!”
“Get out!” I shouted! And they emerged each carrying a bloody knife.
A month later, my attorney introduced me to White, the Mayor of Boston. He shookd my hand.
“It took guts to stand up to guys like that!”
I won my case against the Mafia in court after a six month battle where my life was threatened, and where I thought I would die any minute.
I don’t own a picture of how Christine died. I have said this to several therapists. I thought my neighbor, Kim Hafner, could help me. She tried to poke my eyes out, and helped my daughter, Heather Hanson, stab me in the back – once more! There was a cover-up. Tom Snyder tried to lure my sixteen year old daughter into his camp – their camp! Hafner world hard to destroy my credibility with the help of my challenged neighbors. This is a dark fiend, that I am going to turn into a Hit Lady, named, El Lardo.
My other James Bond movie, with John Rosamond, is going to be called ‘Dark Daughter’.
Here’s my letter from Homeland Security. My third Bond novel is going to be about saving the people in the Olympic Stadium from being nuked.
John Presco 007
“The trial had earlier been told how Hambali provided Roche with access to al-Qaeda officials including Osama bin Laden, and how he travelled to Afghanistan via Pakistan to meet them. The notes of these meetings described how al-Qaeda had agreed to have three white Australian Muslims undertake firearms and explosives training in Afghanistan, while Roche co-ordinated operations in Australia.”
“Gary M. Bald Named Executive Assistant Director for Counterterrorism and Counterintelligence
In January 1999, Mr. Bald was detailed to the Criminal Division at Headquarters, and later to the Inspection Division, where he led the investigation of a high-profile Organized Crime/Corruption matter in the Boston Division relating to the James “Whitey” Bulgar case.
“Dear Mr. Presco
By letter dated April 22nd,
Congressman Peter DeFazio forwarded your April 9th. e-mail regarding an alleged threat to the 2000 Summer Olympic Games in Sydney, Australia, to the FBI’s Office of Congressional Affairs. Your inquiry was referred to my office because
your concerns fall within the purview of the FBI’s Counterterrorism Division. We appreciate the interest which prompted you to write. Regarding your concerns that members of “Al-Qaeda were released after being caught with plans to blow up a nuclear plant, “near the site of the 2000 Summer Olympic Games, I can assure you that the Australian and U.S. authorities aggressively investigated initial report of this potential threat. However, it was later determined that no threat existed. Additionally, contrary to media accounts, no arrests were made because no crime was committed. The security for the 2000 Sydney Olympic Games was very well organized and communication with the U.S. Government was unprecedented. I hope this information is helpful to you and will serve to allay some of your concerns. Sincerely yours,
Gary M. Bald
Assistant Director Counterterrorism Division.
1 -Honorable Peter DeFazio U.S.
House of Representatives Washington, DC 20515
Above is me in 1971. I lived on Beacon Hill in this apartment building. I had unlimited guts. I took on the whole world.
In 1971 my attorney told those who refused to move out of our home on 40 Anderson Street, a four story building on Beacon Hill, to move to the top floor for our safety. I was in a legal battle with the brother-in-law of the head of Boston’s Mafia, and they were losing. This guy was a top-notch attorney. The owner of the grocery store down the street who liked me, said;
“They want their building back. They will hurt you.”
When I heard the door being kicked in on the main floor, I rushed downstairs to find the door to the old managers apartment knocked off its hinges. Then I heard the awful sound of the squatter’s three month old black lab having its throat cut. I shouted;
“Get out there!”
There was silence, and then this question;
“Are you the manager?”
“Yes! Get out!”
“You come in here!”
“We got something for you!” said the second voice.
When I refused, they came out carrying bloody knives. I stood my ground. Just them, Shaheb let out a long blast from his horn. He was on the steps with three of my neighbors. These demons folded their knives, walked passed me with smirks on their face, and were out the door. I rushed to find the puppy. I almost fainted when I saw its blood smeared on every wall. I went in search of her and found her body stuffed behind the toilet. I picked her up. She was still warm. I began to cry. I began to wipe her blood off the walls before her owners came home. When they did, I was still crying because it was my vanity, our vanity, that killed her. She was completely innocent. She didn’t have a clue about the battle for the building she lived in. She was happy. She was horrified by the cruelty inflicted on her. I will forever hear her cries.
We won our case. No one likes killers of puppies. Not ever the mob bosses. This is when Shaheb told me he was considering getting guns to fight for the building that was sold in auction to a family construction company who never made the changes they said they were. It took all the light I could muster to talk Shaheb out of a armed stand-off.