I wondered at his outburst. What did America have to do with his cold-hearted refusal to financially enable me to be with my dying daughter?! I began to shake uncontrollably as my heartbreak and desperation turned to sheer terror.
Youre not going to cave into fear now, Mark firmly told me. Truth naturally frees you from fear. Think about it. Focus on what you know rather than jump to emotionally driven conclusions. Write it out and Ill read it when we get home. Mark opened the door and stepped out into the brisk Alaskan air. He had just taken an interim job as Marketing Director of Alaska Business College in order to meet our rent and keep the lights and heat on.
The funds generated from quickly liquidating his personal assets back in Tennessee had dwindled, and we spent the last American Express Travelers check on a small, unfurnished fourplex in Eagle River. He wasnt counting on assistance from anyone, especially not my father, and reluctantly left me alone with my past. I locked the door and put my pen to paper.
The answers were slow to surface, as they drudged up years of related memory that appeared as one long nightmare. Ive remembered so much, yet nothing makes sense. I cant tell one year from the next. I showed him the scraps of paper and cried, How can I figure out when things happened when I had no concept of time? Simple, Mark replied. You have to know what questions to ask yourself. Expand your vision beyond the moment. What is the season? Is it snowing? Can you feel the warmth of the summer sun?
Do you smell the spring flowers? Are you in school? Who is your teacher? What are you wearing? When did you own these clothes? Are any of your brothers and sisters born? How old is Kelly? Take a look around through the part of you it was happening to and see through those eyes. Do people seem really tall to you like they did when you were a child? What is eye level to you? Their knees? Their eyes? Simply pinpoint the time as accurately as you can and leave the rest to investigators.
Ive already got some old contacts of mine looking into things for us, and I talked with the Feds again today. Marks rational answers served to refocus me.
My frantic desperation calmed, and we discussed our plans for the next day, which would include time at the hospital with Kelly. I also need to go to the library, Mark informed me. Rare books on deprogramming and recovery from dissociative disorders were suddenly being made available to him. Certain pages were book marked for him with coded instructional notes and unidentified one time use toll free phone numbers.
You can look through some of the old magazines and newspapers theyve accumulated as give-aways, he continued. You will want to start clipping pictures, phrases, headlines anything that catches your attention. When you have a box full of these clippings, you can make a collage of them. It will be like putting together these pieces of your mind. He scooped up a handful of the scraps of paper I had made notes on. Patrick used the term polyfragmented to describe these dust pieces youre gathering.
She agrees that my suggestion of making a collage would be very healing for you. Suddenly my scraps of memory looked valuable after all. From that point on, I wrote down every memory flash I had whether it seemed significant or not. I kept a pen and paper with me at all times. Memories were flashing across my minds screen often, even to the point of dominating my focus at inconvenient times. Jotting down a word or phrase served to stop the inconvenient intrusions, allowing me to complete other business I was tending at the moment.
Later, when I had time to focus on it properly, I would relax into a deeper state, ask myself questions the way Mark taught me, smell the smells, and write out that which was waiting to be photographically retrieved.
Keep in mind, Mark advised me, that if a memory seems too impossible to have actually happened, then examine it closely to see if it is something you were told or is from a movie. Deprogram the program first. Find the beginning and end, what happened before and after.
Set the written out scrap of memory aside for three weeks. Truth doesnt go away. Filling in the blanks with what might have happened will. Some memory scraps were temporarily set aside, along with the clippings I would accumulate for my collage. Upon Dr. Although the staff admittedly did not know how to treat Kellys condition, they were sympathetic to her need. They agreed to join us in our quest to obtain qualified rehabilitation for Kelly.
Marks inside knowledge of espionage level deprogramming was not appropriate for Kellys needs. In essence the key that locked the doors to her mind needed to be used to unlock it. And Charter North5, despite being among the most progressive chain of mental institutions in the nation, did not have access to classified technology and information.
Seeing Kelly was a joyful and painful experience at the same time. She and I were very close, bonded more than the average mother and daughter by the traumas we had endured together for so many years. I had never contributed to Kellys abuse and she knew it, despite her amnesic mental blocks and extreme PTSD6. We shared an understanding beyond words, and communicated on levels experienced by soldiers on the front lines of a battle zone.
I was glad to see Kelly breathing easier under Dr. Pats care. Im going to see a doctor who knows about sexual abuse, Kelly proudly announced. The police need the paperwork. Apparently this medical document was required. I went with her as she complied with the gynecological exam at the age of eight.
Lillibridge examined and photographed what he termed the physical scars from years of extreme, horrendous sexual abuse. Cover-up was already underway, even though we had just embarked on what would be years in pursuit of justice and rehabilitation for Kelly.
Lillibridge informed Mark and me that his medical license and life had been threatened if he confirmed Kellys abuse. This is an outrage! What this child has endured is so extreme I will travel to any court in this country to testify on her behalf, he promised.
Kelly, pleased with herself for cooperating with the exam, had no clue as to what was going on. In spite of her deep insight and wisdom exceeding her years, she was still a child who did not need to know how elusive justice was becoming.
By the time Mark and I arrived at the library, memories were flooding my mind and I was making notes as fast as I could. I stopped long enough to request the outdated newspapers and magazines so I could begin my collage, piled them in the Pacer out front, then sat down at a desk to write while Mark tended his library business. I remembered how my fathers sexual abuse seemed so natural.
I didnt know any better, and pedophilia was so rampant8 in Muskegon9, Michigan when I was growing up, my neighborhood friends didnt know any better either. Even though I had longed for someplace on the planet where people didnt hurt each other, the pursuit of pleasure by acting out sexually was the way of life back then.
Soon my fathers sexual abuse extended into child pornography. Bonnie and the Boxer was the pornographic bestiality film made of me that would change my life forever.
Looking through the eyes of the child I was when those events occurred, I recalled how my Uncle Sams boxer dog, Buster, was so much bigger than me! My father had filmed the event, and apparently sold it through the local Michigan Mafia child pornography ring. As I recalled, my maternal grandfathers Masonic Lodge was instrumental in bringing businessmen, police, and politicians into our lives. I kept my head up my past for days, writing on every scrap of paper I could find.
Still, it would be some time before I would understand the full importance and scope of that event. The memories I wrote out in photographic detail turned out to be just a small piece of the elaborate puzzle that revealed some of the missing years of my life.
It would be years before I learned how that local child pornography ring came to be sanctioned by politicians involved in MK Ultra mind control It was learned that incest resulted in dissociative disorders ideal for robotic mind control.
Such candidates could be used in espionage, the military, or anywhere government officials wanted secrecy and control. Brainwashing was being refined, and certain politicians such as the one who came to our house with the Bonnie and the Boxer film under his arm, were sanctioning child pornography rings in order to target children like myself for government mind control projects.
Spies are made, not born, my father often quipped. He was proud to be part of what he deemed an important government project. This local politician, Gerald Ford, would later become the un-elected Vice President and eventually un- elected President of the United States Back in the early s, though, Ford was just a simple politician who was sliming his way to the top.
He promised my father immunity from prosecution if he would agree to see me into MK Ultra mind control. I remember how the two had laughed like old friends, telling tales about my Uncle Bob Tanis.
In retrospect, it is bizarre how my father, who had a sixth grade education and earned his living as a worm digger, became associated with the likes of VanderJagt and Ford through illicit porn featuring me! Yet it had all seemed so uneventful, simple, and normal to me back then.
Writing out my memories the way Mark taught allowed me to retrieve them the way they happened, free of dramatics. Emotions were non-existent in the dissociative state in which I had existed, so applying emotion to events when recovering memory was unrealistic.
Mark wisely taught me to avoid the question often asked by therapists how does that make you feel? Remembering the details, as disgusting as they were now, helped me understand why my father ignored my pleas for help and shouted, This is America!
I really didnt have time to wallow in self-pity, though, when Kellys dire and desperate circumstances demanded all of my energy. In our determined effort to help Kelly, Mark and I worked diligently to stay a step ahead of the law enforcement cover-up that was underway.
Oftentimes we would opt for spending what little cash we had on postage stamps rather than on food, as information dissemination was more crucial to our survival at the time. We had written hundreds of letters to local, state, and federal law enforcement agencies, mental health professionals, and to various citizens organizations that were springing up all across the United States.
Kellys case wasnt the only one of its kind, although the free press and the courts were ignoring the widespread proliferation of incest, ritual abuse, and mind control. Responses poured in from everywhere, including from a Priest1 concerned about abuses within the Catholic Church.
Systematic mind control of dissociative victims by pedophile priests was already rampant by Mental health therapy for the wide range of victims of incest, child abuse, kidnapping, cults, satanism, dissociative disorders, and mind control was all but non-existent back then.
Therapists were contacting Mark and me for guidance. Information on dissociative disorders, trauma, and mind control had been deliberately suppressed from the American psychiatric and psychological associations for so-called reasons of national security. The founder of the APA, Dr. The CIA was forced to compensate the victims, yet it took years2. Since he was close to reaching his goal, he proceeded to submit a request for release of emergency funds for Kelly and me so we could complete her transfer.
I know, Mark quickly replied. Youve been following the trail of my American Express Travelers Checks. Your ex-wife is among the FBIs most wanted criminals4, Marischen continued. We need you to confirm her credibility. Well, shes involved in a homicide along with the attorney she is working for. Marischen informed him. If you will say for the record that she is credible, we will investigate this case you are presenting to us.
Wait a minute. Mark smiled through his rage. Im here to report federal crimes, and all you want to talk about is my ex-wife. I havent seen her in nearly a year. I am not going to lie for you and tell you she is credible. Im counting on you to be honest and investigate these crimes and proofs, and youre trying to entrap me. This is immoral and. Joe Hamblin reached across the table and took the packet of information Mark had brought them.
Acting on a tip from someone he trusted, Mark was patiently waiting in Hamblins secure office when he returned. Hamblin took the voluminous packet of documents and information we had provided him out of his briefcase. Nothing happened in Alaska. Yet, Hamblin warned. Leave before it does. We told you we need your help, and nothing has happened, Mark began.
Now I cant even afford to leave. I have nothing left to lose but my life, and as long as Im alive I will do all I can to legally incite an honest investigation into these crimes.
Much of the detailed information we submitted regarding CIA cocaine operations had already checked out. You are the first person I know of to actually survive and piece together the facts so comprehensively, Max told me. And he was in a position to know a lot6. Max was not only compassionate and respectful, he was dedicated to bringing about justice regardless of who is involved. No one is above the law, he stated. He, too, was suddenly flown to Washington, DC.
Upon his return, Max drove out to our Eagle River residence. He was wide-eyed and breathless when he arrived, looking behind him suspiciously, and asked to come in. I know the crimes you are reporting are true, he began. And I cant even protect you.
It took me over two hours to drive here7, taking back roads, and using every trick I know to shake a tail. You wont survive here. Theres a high level hit out on you now, and I beg of you to please leave while you still can. Max bid us good luck, hugged us, and left. As he backed out of our driveway, the telephone rang. It was Charter North notifying us that Kelly was in danger and would be transferred to an interim placement via the Tennessee Claims Commission. Charter had been informed that Wayne Cox was on his way to Alaska to kill her and anyone who stood in his way.
Kelly was flying out with a nurse immediately. There wasnt even time for me to see her first. I was devastated. I telephoned Commissioner Rucker, who was distraught over the precarious turn of events. He told me, National Security has been slapped on this case out of DC. There is little more I can do. Im told Senator Byrd is behind it. Senator Byrd? I had been there. My memory had been triggered. I was writing it out as fast as I could, pausing briefly to wipe away tears of frustration that I hadnt remembered soon enough to have avoided this pitfall.
My heart wrenching concerns for Kelly were overwhelming. Taking action rather than taking time to cry, Mark and I began to pack our belongings and make arrangements to leave Alaska where we could be closer to Kelly. I kept writing. After being sold into MK Ultra mind control by my father, he was immediately flown to Boston, Massachusetts where he said he was given instructions at the nearby Scientific Engineering Institute8 on how to raise me in the Project.
Perhaps it was my Uncle Bobs Jesuit affiliation, or perhaps it was due to the CIA combining Nazi mind sciences with what the Catholics learned through the Spanish Inquisition and Crusades regarding the effects of trauma on the human mind, that sent my father to Boston. Regardless, when he returned, my MK Ultra mind control victimization commenced, beginning with mind shattering occult rituals in my hometown St. Francis deSales Catholic church. My father had also been instructed to take me to the Governors mansion in Mackinac Island, Michigan.
Governor George Romney9 was actively involved in MK Ultra, extending it from the Catholic church to his Mormon church10 and bringing it into the school systems as what would later become global education Byrd, who would become my owner in MK Ultra. The pieces of my mind were fusing into a full picture, just as the scraps of headlines and pictures I had clipped were assembled into a collage theme.
Everything started to make sense. Yet it was only the beginning. Mark quit his brief job at Alaska Business College to be with me 24 hours a day 7 days a week for security purposes.
Making a living was secondary to living, and Mark chose to step away from societys financial rat race in favor of staying a step ahead of the game of exposing the highest level of criminal corruption. He had already lost his personal fortune, and he knew no limits to sacrificing his comfort zone for a higher purpose.
Within days of his departure, two Federally employed thugs greeted him as he stepped from the elevator to his ABC office. Mark heard the triggers cock on their weapons as he brushed past them. In one swift movement, he flipped open his briefcase12 and spun around to face his would-be attackers with his 45 automatic drawn down on them.
Using his briefcase as a shield, he smiled and said, Good morning, boys. What brings you here? A need for an education? Youre going to leave Alaska, dead or alive, one of the suits said, while the other held the elevator door open with his foot.
Abandon that woman, child, and your cause. Leave the state or youll die. The elevator door closed. Mark repacked his weapon and closed his briefcase as he watched from the upper floor balcony as the pair left the building. The elevator doors opened again, and a group of female students emerged. Phillips, one young blonde called. Look what youve done, a student majoring in modeling scolded as she wiped sweat from Marks brow, totally unaware of what had just transpired.
Lets hear what he has to say. Maybe its just a rumor. Mark never faltered in his convictions. The easy way out was not the path he chose, and he turned to the girls, stopping at his office door.
You cant talk me out of or into anything, he smiled, then slipped inside and started packing his belongings. Back at home, Mark laughed as he told me about the threat from the Feds. You should have seen the expression on their faces when they realized their element of surprise had turned on them. They ran like scalded dogs all the way out the building.
Its a good thing those girls didnt have class any earlier, I said, thinking how close they had come without even knowing it.
The phone rang. He knew that Jolly Wests efforts to communicate with us now clearly indicated how endangered out lives had become. Recently, Steve Hassan, alleged acclaimed cohort of Jolly West and Margaret Singer, was brought in to verify Kellys mind control abuses at the request of the Tennessee Claims Commission.
Jolly West was concerned, as Hassan had submitted strong verbiage documenting Kellys mind control programming Wasting no time, Mark politely terminated the call. As quickly as he hung up the phone, it rang again. I need to go to the library, he said as he hung up the phone again. Immediately, we went out the door.
As we drove to the shopping center where the small Eagle River library was located, I sensed a change occurring deep within me. My brain was fusing, and I was regaining control over my own mind and life.
By the time we reached the parking lot, I felt like me for the first time in decades. I knew who I was, where Id been, and where I was going. As I walked across the parking lot, I felt present, a stronger attachment to the planet, an awareness. It was as though dimensions had shifted and my spirit had reattached to my body after having floated above it in a safe, loving place for years while I was tortured to robotically carry out orders for others.
I felt peace. I felt whole. I felt strong. Mark noticed that my demeanor had changed. Even my walk was different, and never returned to what it was before that moment. We both sensed a permanent, profound change. Mark looked at me, his soulful eyes shining. Unable to contain myself, I exclaimed I love you! Looking deep into my eyes, into the very soul of me, he said, I believe you.
I love you, too. Mark dashed into the library while I went into the grocery store to buy dinner with a handful of change we had found. Once inside the grocery store, I could not think. After decades of only following orders under mind control, making decisions for myself wasnt happening.
I was still staring a the grocery items unable to choose our dinner when Mark found me, and asked, Whats for dinner?
I know this sounds crazy, but I cant decide. Its like my brain goes off into a black hole before I can think to decide. I was alarmed. Well do some brain exercises, he promised. Your brain is just rusty from lack of use. We can fix that easy enough. Mark smiled and slipped his arm around me.
Lets skip dinner tonight. We need to save every penny for our trip, anyway. It was about time! He really could see how deeply I loved him. Now that I had free thought, free will, and soul expression again, I was free to love! We hurried back to our home. We weaved our way through the boxes already packed with our few belongings. Our pets kennels were ready for them and the long trip back to the lower We hadnt disassembled the bed yet, though, and fell into each others arms.
I lost track of time, and it was so different this time. Timeless passion. Timeless love. My choice. United in love and purpose, Mark and I finally arrived back in the lower Our Alaska Airlines flight had been delayed for days due to a major volcanic eruption, leaving us to camp out on the airline floor with our luggage and kennels full of pets. Now we were more anxious than ever to retrieve our Pacer and tiny trailer from the ferry shipping docks and begin the long trek across the US to reunite with Kelly.
When we located our Pacer, all of our belongings packed inside had been raided and strewn about. Weapons and documents pertinent to our legal action and survival were missing.
Marks forethought in hand carrying such evidences as Alex Houstons CIA diary, videos, and medical records proved invaluable.
We repacked the car and trailer, strapped the kennels to the roof, and began our long journey. I telephoned Commissioner Rucker from a rest area in California. I realize this is not a suitable placement and its only temporary.
They havent even heard of mind control, but at least theyve treated ritual abuse survivors. They have high security and are acutely aware of Kellys circumstances.
Theyve agreed to fully cooperate with us in obtaining qualified rehabilitation for her. I was overwhelmed by emotion and couldnt even think to ask necessary questions. Hopefully he can give you advice on how to proceed from there. Good luck. Good luck? It seemed everyone was wishing luck these days. I knew it was more than luck that brought us this far! Huntsville had been one of Kellys and my primary abuse bases for NASA mind control programming during the s, and I was deeply concerned with going there to pick up our emergency funds.
Already Mark and I had heard rumblings regarding Bud Cramer1 and his organization being a catch net for mind control survivors. Plus I was concerned that Kellys placement in Owensboro, Kentucky was far too close to Fort Campbell where we also had endured extensive, sophisticated programming. Never one to despair, Mark started the engine. The people who hurt you and Kelly may have Intelligence, Mark told me, but they lack wisdom.
Theyre flat thinkers with no concept of the strength of the human spirit or the power of a mothers love. There is no depth to their criminal minds, which is why wisdom outthinks a criminal mind every time. Hope, rather than luck, is necessary for human survival, and I was deeply grateful for the hope Marks wisdom provided. Would I ever be capable of such wisdom myself?
I was still striving to apply the simple motto Mark had given to me voice no negatives without a solution. It was a challenge to think of solutions when I was still learning to think for myself at all! At least this phrase kept me from incessant complaining, whining, and slipping into immobilizing despair while I strove to push my brain to think beyond past conditioning of compliance without question. I settled into my seat, pulled out one of my ever-present notebooks, and began writing out details of the vast information I was remembering.
My traumatic experiences with Wayne Cox and his Louisiana backwoods witchcraft blood rituals left me prime for occult- theme mind control programming. Aquino seemed untouchable in those days with his professed Neo-Nazi criminal activity covered by his affiliation with the War Colleges Psychological Warfare Division, the Catholic Jesuits, the First Amendment of the US Constitution that ensures freedom of religion, and through his association with influential politicians such as Byrd.
Houston worked as a ventriloquist and stage hypnotist in the country music industry, which provided an ideal cover for me to travel throughout the US, Canada, Mexico, and the Caribbean as ordered. Nashville was also in close proximity to two mind control epicenters; one in Fort Campbell, Kentucky where elite special forces such as the st Airborne were programmed and trained, and the other in Huntsville, Alabamas NASA facilities. Aquino became my primary mind control programmer according to Byrds instruction throughout the Reagan-Bush Administration.
I was programmed for CIA Black Budget funding operations, to deliver messages to and from various government leaders, and fulfill sexual perversion in the process2. Kelly was also subjected to Aquinos abuse and programming as ordered by Byrd, despite the fact that her mind control victimization was far more technologically advanced than mine. Kelly experienced classified high technology harmonic mind control programming since birth. Where my brain was compartmentalized through trauma, her neuron pathways were harmonically vibrated for more precise compartmentalization.
Even before she was born, I was sent to Tulane University Medical Center in New Orleans, Louisiana where genetic mind control engineering was already underway. The sophisticated high- tech means by which Kelly was conditioned were also being utilized at the Fort Campbell and NASA facilities, where Aquino was willing to administer them.
He was much more adept at playing devils advocate, wielding his stun gun as the power of satan for programming purposes, than he was with harmonic equipment. Nevertheless, Aquino had supposedly established himself at both mind control epicenters, having used harmonic equipment to fine tune the singing qualities of the country music entertainers Byrd controlled3. It was no wonder that I was hesitant to go back into Huntsville and was concerned for Kellys placement in Kentucky.
Nor was I comfortable when Mark announced that we would be stopping in Nashville before proceeding to Huntsville as arranged. Then he explained, It would be wise to build a backdoor to ensure Kellys safety as well as our own. We need to strategically disperse a few packets of information around Washington, DC. Mark pulled up to Nashvilles Federal Building. Wait here, he said, smoothing the wrinkles from his travel pants.
Transferring a few select packets into his brief case, he said, Im going up to Congressman Clements office, and will be back in twenty minutes. Eighteen minutes later, Mark was back in the car, aiming it for Huntsville.
Done, he smiled. Anytime we absolutely need to reach people with something in Washington, DC, Clements staff will ensure it gets there intact by Congressional Red Bag Mail. Im still striving to think of solutions and youre already implementing them! How fortunate I felt to be lifted from my mind control existence by someone so wise and capable.
I decided solution should be spelled SOULution. Armed with soul, truth, and a mothers love, I convinced myself that I was ready for Huntsville. Disjointed bits of memory began flashing, and I forgot all about my recent resolution and began shaking. We will never survive this. Theres no place to run and no place to hide, especially when were right in their own backyard!
Please I begged, lets go. I quit. I cant do this. Mark managed to calm my hysteria with logic. There is a place to run right at them. And you have no need to hide obviously they do or they wouldnt devote so much effort and money to cover-up. As for being in their own backyard, its the safest place to be. As they say, Nazis dont shoot folks in their own bedroom. You cant quit now because Ive already devoted a year to this, and I refuse to quit.
I was still sobbing as he continued, Were on the back of a tiger and weve got to ride it until he drops or hell eat us for lunch. I can survive the un-survivable, but I cant tolerate the intolerable and your negativity is intolerable. He stopped the car. You can get out and walk if you want, but Im going to finish this. I still wasnt very good at making decisions for myself. I definitely needed to work on that voice no negatives without a solution thing. For now, I quit sobbing and rode on in silence.
Besides, I still had a lot of memories surfacing that I needed to write out. Wed like to interview you first thing in the morning, they said. They were aware of Huntsvilles reliance on Byrds Senate appropriations funds for their NASA operations, yet had no inside knowledge of mind control operations.
I explained how Aquino used me in the training video How to Create a Mind Controlled Slave Using a Stun Gun4 that was filmed in Huntsville, and even provided details of local persons involved. I elaborated further on how one such individual, Huntsville Police Sergeant Frank Crowley, actively covered up local crime.
I had been privy to the criminal roots of the First and last Annual Johnny Lee Picnic held August , in nearby Guntersville, where it was pre-planned that the promoter would steal all proceeds.
Houston, who was booked to entertain at the event by his Agent Reggie MacLaughlin, was tipped to the plan and demanded to be paid up front. He was also responsible for bringing vast quantities of CIA cocaine into the event, half of which was to be taken to the Fraternal Order of Police Convention scheduled in Mobile immediately afterward. When a girl was murdered the last night of the Picnic in a bizarre sex act, it further complicated the whole criminal mess and Sgt.
Crowley was needed to cover it all up. Country entertainer Keith Whitley had witnessed the murder, was aware of the CIAs cocaine ties into it all, and sobbed hysterically, threatening to go to the media with it. Lorrie Morgan asked me to keep their baby in our motor home while she and Reggie MacLaughlin tried to regain control of Keith.
The next day, when all of us were at the Mobile F. Convention, Sgt. Crowley bragged how he had it all covered. Bennett and Crabtree appeared extremely nervous, and I assumed it was due to the F. It doesnt mean all police are corrupt. Im not suggesting you two are corrupt just because I knew so many who are. Theres good and bad in everythingeven the CIA. Even politicians. Even Masons. Im not painting everyone with the same brush.
I smiled. Mark changed the subject. There is a major cocaine deal going down in town this weekend. Hes a singer and songwriter in the country music industry, I added. I lived on his farm in 78 when Wayne Cox was working with the Mandrells.
It all ties right back into Byrd again. Irby Mandrell, the girls father, even bragged how Byrd had them programmed and harmonically tuned right here in Huntsville5. Crabtree and Bennett drew up the plan, which would occur the next evening in the parking lot of the Gold Rush.
Mark and I were to meet them there at 6PM, after which back up would arrive and make the arrests. Hank Cochrans gold Mercedes pulled up to the door of the lounge. He snorted a line of coke right in plain sight before going in to the Gold Rush.
Did you see that? I shrieked. How much more obvious do these guys have to be before justice prevails? Where are Bennett and Crabtree? Hank Cochrans driver slowly got out of the car with his huge, 50 caliber Desert Eagle gun drawn. Standing behind the car door, he nodded his head for another passenger to go into the building with what appeared to be a heavy leather bag. Thats the biggest gun I ever saw in my life, I whispered as the driver scanned the parking lot for any witnesses.
Kiss me, quick! Mark pulled me close for what he hoped would look enough like a passionate sex act to give us time to pull out. If you want to live, leave. Bennett gestured over his shoulder to cops surrounding the so-called safe house. Our Sergeant doesnt want you here. Our Sergeant is Sgt. He doesnt know youre here yet. Crabtree tried to soften the threat. Youd better leave before he finds out.
Bennett ordered. Referring to the cops surrounding us, he said, These guys will escort you out of town and out of the state. Mark calmly smiled at Bennett and patted the weapon he and Crabtree knew he carried. I knew how to get here, and I know the way out. You havent heard the last from me, you chicken shit son-of-a-bitch. I gathered our few belongings from the safe house while Mark telephoned Cramers office. Cramers assistant Barbara Johnson was already aware of this turn of events.
Her only voiced concern was to ask if Crabtree had cashed the Violent Crimes Compensation check for us as instructed. He had. We threw our belongings in the car while the police posse lined up their vehicles to escort us out of town. Mark drove smooth and deliberate, loosing many of them at the first red light, so that few were left by the time we turned back on to Highway The whole Huntsville experience proved quite productive in spite of the life threatening turmoil surrounding us.
We received the necessary emergency funds, learned numerous pitfalls to avoid, and somehow managed to survive the whole ordeal. I grew wiser from seeing the magnitude of the cover-up and corruption emanating from NASA.
My mother will let us stay at her house1 while we finish getting Kelly transferred and report these crimes to the Feds, Mark told me. We had arrived back in Nashville without further incident and wearily unpacked our belongings into a small bedroom in Melbas house.
Melbas fall from the horse she was riding with Mark when he was only six years old had left her severely brain damaged. Mark not only raised himself, he had taken care of Melba all his life. Had it not been for his resultant interest in mind sciences hoping to find a cure for her, he may not have known how to help me recover from mind control.
I was deeply grateful to Melba, and touched by Marks compassion and patience for her and me both. Im glad youre here, Melba firmly stated as though Mark had only been away a short while. Some fellow from Fort Campbell has been calling for you. I told him you werent here and he kept calling back anyway. Oh, I forgot. Melba opened the back door and let one of her countless cats outside. Oh, I forgot has been calling here all my life, Mark smiled and hugged his mother. Thanks for letting us stay here.
Hopefully we wont need to be here long. I didnt say I dont want to stay here, Mother, Mark patiently explained. I simply hope it wont take us long to accomplish what we have to do. Mark opened the refrigerator door. Ill cook dinner tonight if I can find anything.
Moving aside bottles and jars of clouded fuzz and black goo revealed nothing but a few furry green balls. Thats not edible. I was relieved Melba knew the difference between spoiled and edible food. She opened the pantry door. This is fresh. Mark was looking for bread to go with the tuna fish, and, as a rule, I did not answer the telephone in the event it was a tone call. A harmonic tone delivered by telephone was Byrds prior method of triggering me into robotic compliance with whatever orders followed.
Melba answered it herself. It was her neighbor across the street, checking to see who was at her house. Mark is finally here to take that call from the Fort Campbell fellow, Melba told her. There would be no secrets around here. I wondered how many people knew about this, or if it was even relevant. I soon found out.
Next time the phone rang it was him. Howd you get this number? I heard Mark ask as he brushed a cat away from his tuna fish. I went back into our tiny room to tidy it up and put our clothes in the drawers. A few minutes later, Mark slipped into our room, quickly closing the door before the cats followed. I sneezed. Im sorry about the cats, he said as I blew my nose. You finally got past that histamine2 problem, and now this.
Thats OK, I sniffed. At least theyve got some quality tuna to share with us. Mark smiled, and then got serious. The timing of that phone call has me wondering. It seems Fort Campbell already knows we were reporting Aquinos crimes in Huntsville. He just came back from Panama where he was chief investigator of Noriegas lair.
At least hell have a point of reference for understanding what Im reporting. When is he coming? Day after tomorrow. I told him to give us some time to settle in and unpack before he starts demanding documents and paperwork. Im not real sure what his agenda is, and it makes me nervous that he found us through Huntsville. Im going to make a phone call when we go into town tomorrow and check him out with my sources. Mark tested the bed. It didnt bounce when he patted the spot next to him.
I snuggled into him, finding all the comfort in the world in his arms. It was in the heat of Iran Contra, and Noriega had already been warned to cease his CIA cocaine activities for a while. Yet he was as brazen and obvious as ever. Since I had had dealings with Noriega in the past4, I was to be used for this operation under orders from Dick Cheney5, who was still working in his basement quarters of the Pentagon at the time. The plan was to appeal to Noriegas occultic superstitions, which included Aquinos so-called wizardry, my extensive mind control programming, and delivery of an ultimatum to him from then-President Reagan.
I could still recall the verbiage of the message in photographic detail6, complete with the voice inflections used when the message was instilled and subsequently when it was delivered. Is Dibble superstitious? I asked. Superstition begins where knowledge leaves off, Mark said. I have no clue if Dibble can even think for himself, let alone where his knowledge leaves off. If you surpass his point of reference for understanding it, he may not recognize it as reality.
Time is not our friend right now, Mark countered. And we dont need Dibble as an enemy. He just returned from Operation Just Cause and hes in a high level position to just cause us problems.
Mark knew I was referring to the highly publicized rock music embedded with harmonics that US soldiers strategically blared through boom-boxes into the Vatican embassy where Noriega was hiding out prior to his capture.
Approach the subject carefully, Mark advised. Dibble may buy into the deliberate misnomer that lyrics affect the subconscious rather than harmonics7. Youve got to consider that Dibble has heavy Catholic8 ties into this, and may be as superstitious as Noriega and Aquino combined. Why offer Fort Campbell information on Aquino, anyway? Mark asked. They know him better than we do.
If Dibble is investigating Aquino, his own people have either left him in the dark or theyre sending him in to find out what youve remembered. My stomach growled, and I changed the subject. Did you find anything in the kitchen to cook for dinner? Mark was a gourmet chef, having learned how to cook in France some years previous while working with Capital International Airways.
How fortunate for me since my meager diet for so many years limited my ability to even boil water. Mark seemed like my universal justice of the food. I ate well these days, even when we had no budget for groceries. It was he who was enduring a radical shift from the high quality food he was used to.
Well have to go to town for groceries tomorrow. Theres still plenty of albacore tuna fish in the pantry, though. Mark smiled at me. Have you noticed that the poorer we are, the better food tastes and the hotter sex is?
His simple question caused me to ponder our circumstances. I really did not have a comparative by which to answer. We were financially devastated by the time my digestive problems allowed me to indulge in Marks cooking, and it is still by far the best Ive ever tasted. Before Mark, I had no idea that a body could endure so much pleasure! The sex I was trained for under MK Ultra mind control was autogenically derived, often brutal, and perverse.
With love comes sexual freedom, and sexual freedom is more fun than my programmers could begin to imagine! Well always remember the love of these times, Mark caressed me. Lets embrace the moment because we wont be poor for long9.
The next morning, Mark and I drove to the nearby town of Dickson in search of groceries. Tracing her path from child pornography and recruitment into the program to serving as a top-level intelligence agent and White House sex slave, TRANCE Formation of America is a definitive eye-witness account of government corruption that implicates some of the most prominent figures in U.
TRANCE was released in when the National Security Act was invoked in court on our case, making dissemination of these proven facts tantamount to our survival. Seeming prophetic upon its release, TRANCE is now in law libraries worldwide due to its exposure of US Government criminal operations that have since come to pass and continue to unfold to this very day.
Get your printed copy here. From its cover to unconventional layout to insights within, PTSD: Time to Heal reverberates with introspective inspirations. Any international sales processed on the trance-formation.
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