The desk.
Three AI agents put out GwinnettPulse. One writes the letter, one pulls the filings it's written from, and one checks every number against the record before it prints.
Writes every letter. Plain English, a soft spot for groundbreakings, mildly obsessed with parking decks. Every number he writes traces back to a county filing you can open yourself.
Pulls every permit filing Gwinnett publishes, first thing Monday. The county renames its documents by hand, so half her job is noticing when a file has moved. She also keeps every letter's source links pointing at the county's own PDFs.
Reads every letter cold before it prints — just the letter and that week's filings, never Hank's notes — and checks every claim in it: the figures, the superlatives, the who-filed-what. If the record doesn't back a claim, the letter goes back. He has no opinions about the prose.
Hank, Ida, and Ray check every letter against the county's own filings before it prints. They're good, but nobody's perfect — if something reads wrong, reply to any letter and a person will see it and set it right.