Caught in the Net

The Web was a pedophile's paradise -- until Mike and Cassandra Harris logged on.

Only later, when he listened to a recording of the conversation, did Harris realize what had been going on.

Do you have your pants down? Angle asked Tommy from his home in Indiana.

Yeah, Tommy replied.

Scott Laumenn
Mike and Cassandra Harris have a line on pedophiles.
John Johnston
Mike and Cassandra Harris have a line on pedophiles.

Is your dick big? Angle asked, and then asked Tommy to pat his penis on his stomach. Lacking the necessary appendage, Cassandra had used her pager.

It was enough to convince Angle, who twice before had served time for sexual assault on a child, to make arrangements to fly to Colorado. Two weeks before he was due to land here, though, he took a side trip to Mexico, where he filmed himself having sex with boys. When Angle told Tommy about the trip, Harris warned the FBI -- and as Angle re-entered the United States, he was arrested by the agency. The Jeffco team was able to add a count of attempted sexual assault to the feds' child-pornography charges.

Some of the suspects were just plain pathetic, like the man who complained to Tigger, supposedly an adolescent female, that he didn't have a good Internet name. He was overjoyed when Cassandra sent him one, which he recorded onto his answering machine. This is the Pooh Bear Man...

But others scared even Cassandra and Harris. Denverite Thomas Ormsby told Kendra, another character under the Cutie2kewl moniker, that he liked to physically abuse his sexual partners. He sent photographs of himself forcing a child to engage in oral sex; the girl looked about ten.

I got a big dick, huh? he boasted. it really nine inches? Kendra replied, almost breathless, although Ormsby was one of those who didn't need much prompting.

Yeah, and it's really not that hard in that picture. When I shoved it down her throat, it was really hard.


Are you fingering yourself? Go ahead. When I shoved it down her throat, she gagged...I've got big balls, too.


My cum was dripping out of her nose. Somewhere on the disk, he said, he had pictures that would demonstrate how much cum he produced.


Ormsby asked if Kendra had any friends to bring with her when they finally met. Kendra replied that she didn't want anyone else to know about them, and he quickly moved on to the next subject. Do you take it in the ass?

I never have.

You'll like it.

If you're sure it won't hurt me.

Well, I do have a big cock.

Cassandra could hardly stand to listen to him; he made her skin crawl. How many other children has he hurt? she wondered. When they talked, the question was never far from her mind. She wished they could hurry up and arrest him -- but when the day came, she nearly balked.

"I hate this," she told her husband. Ormsby had demanded that she dress up for his violent fantasy: spandex shorts, a tight-fitting shirt without a bra, high heels and bright-pink lipstick. Cassandra, who rarely wore any makeup, thought she looked like a teenaged hooker.

Even worse, they were supposed to meet at a McDonald's near Columbine High School. She felt terrible showing up at the restaurant in that outfit. She tried to ignore the stares from parents, as well as her own embarrassment.

Finally, Harris reported over the radio that Ormsby had driven into the parking lot. "Go to the front door and act like you're looking around," he said. She did, but either Ormsby didn't see her or he was being cautious. Harris had Cassandra go to the door again, then sit back down in a booth by the window.

Ormsby saw her, parked, then went into the restaurant and took a seat across from her. He was practically licking his chops when, as Harris likes to say of these moments, his world came crashing down.

As the police moved in to arrest Ormsby, parents grabbed their children. Cassandra left as soon as she could, so she wasn't there to hear Harris address the crowd after Ormsby was escorted away. He announced that they had just witnessed a joint operation of the Jefferson County District Attorney's Office and the FBI. "We arrested a man who came here to meet someone he thought was a child," Harris said. "He wanted to hurt a child."

There was a moment of silence, and then everyone in the restaurant began applauding. It was one of the most gratifying moments of Mike Harris's career, but something was missing: His wife wasn't there to hear it.

When he got out to the car, Cassandra was steaming. "Why did you make me come to the door twice?" she yelled. "I will never dress up like this again."

Then he told her about the applause from the restaurant's patrons. "Really?" she asked quietly.

Playing decoy was not an easy job. In her guise as a minor, Cassandra had to listen to vile conversations. Photographs of her were all over the Internet. The team had seen pictures of Cassandra as a little boy pasted above a pedophile's computers, pictures of Cassandra as a teenaged girl lying on the floor next to a suspect's bed. They knew what the sick bastards were doing, but as long as the perps were concentrating on Tommy or Katie or Kendra or Tigger, they weren't hurting a real child.

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