The Final Boss and Rogue Special Agent: Inside 'Monsters of God's' Shocking Finale Twist

The Unlikely Hero: Anson Wong

Eric Goode's five-part docuseries Monsters of God has always been a tour de force of investigative storytelling, but the final episode takes viewers on an unexpected journey to Malaysia where it introduces us to Anson Wong — the man who's being called the "Pablo Escobar of animal trafficking."

Wong runs an expansive network of wildlife smuggling operations out of Malaysia. He capitalizes on the country's lax enforcement and officials open to bribery. The series follows Goode as he tracks down Wong, eventually sitting down for a chummy chat with the man who's at the center of this illicit enterprise. But here's where it gets interesting — Goode isn't just another curious journalist; he's someone who knows the underground world intimately.

"I was definitely fearful the day before meeting him and wondering how this was going to play out," Goode admits. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm just being stupid. It's not that I'm brave by any stretch, but you just feel it out."

The Unexpected Twist: Ken McCloud

But the real twist comes at the end of the series when Monsters of God reveals a stunning detail that changes the entire narrative. It turns out that Ken McCloud, a former special agent for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service who dedicated his career to capturing Wong, has been secretly keeping a ploughshare tortoise — the most endangered tortoise species in the world — in his own home.

Goode, using a hidden camera, enters McCloud's home and captures the ploughshare tortoise in a dirty terrarium in their living room. It's a heartbreaking revelation that goes beyond just an unusual pet. This isn't a casual hobby — it's a direct violation of international wildlife laws and ethical standards.

"I didn't know he was trying to keep it a secret," Goode reflects. "He was very paranoid about theft, and didn't even want to put the tortoise outside in his backyard because he was so worried that someone might steal it, since it's so valuable. He got increasingly paranoid and that tortoise became more and more important to him, almost like his only child."

From Enforcement to Obsession

McCloud's actions are a fascinating example of how law enforcement can become personal. The psychological journey that led him from being a dedicated conservationist to a keeper of an illegal pet is both disturbing and compelling. Goode describes McCloud as someone who “has the fever,” or addiction, if you will, for these creatures — even when it means crossing ethical lines.

"He has the fever, or the addiction, if you want to use a drug analogy, so he knew that he wanted those animals," Goode explains. "And even though he was taking them from people that brought them in, he loved that he got to be the guy who kept them. It's like the DEA agent who becomes an addict. There's some weird psychological stuff going on there."

Conservation Ethics Under Fire

This isn't just a tale of personal obsession — it's a deeper examination of how conservation efforts can be corrupted from within. As someone deeply involved in turtle conservation, Goode's nonprofit, the Turtle Conservancy, has worked tirelessly to protect 65 species and preserve over 70,000 acres of wildlife.

He is the U.S. Studbook Keeper for all American zoos on ploughshare tortoises, making his expertise in this matter invaluable. His hope is that McCloud's tortoise will be placed into a breeding colony to help increase the population — but not before the legal and ethical implications are fully addressed.

"It's sad," Goode says. "I asked him, 'What separates the prisoner from the prison guard?' and about the ethics of keeping that animal in solitary confinement by itself, and tried to convince him that that wasn't the best place for that tortoise."

The Moral Ambiguity of Conservation

What's particularly chilling is the fact that Goode himself has been one of the leading voices in wildlife conservation. His reaction — and the shock of the viewers — reveals how deeply this contradiction runs. How do we reconcile the actions of someone who has spent years fighting for animal welfare with the decision to keep one of the most critically endangered animals in their personal possession?

There's a haunting irony here: McCloud, who once stood on the right side of the law, is now a keeper of stolen goods. It's a reminder that even those working for good can fall into moral gray areas. Goode sums it up perfectly: “He used to work for a reptile dealer in L.A., so he just so happened to end up on the other side of the fence in law enforcement, but he could have ended up on a different side of the fence.”

What's Next?

The finale doesn't leave viewers with a clear resolution. Instead, it invites us to reflect on how deeply embedded corruption can be in systems meant for protection. As Goode continues his investigation, we're left wondering if McCloud will face legal consequences or if the case will be quietly swept under the rug.

But perhaps more importantly, the series forces us to reconsider what it truly means to protect wildlife — not just from poachers and smugglers, but from those who, in their own ways, contribute to its decline. The final twist of Monsters of God is a powerful reminder that the fight for conservation is far more complex than it appears.

• Watch the full series: Monsters of God on HBO
• Explore more: Turtle Conservancy Website