Entry #0126: Juicy Intel from Mike
08-15-2009
It’s been about two weeks since I last saw Mike, and
finally I got a call from him, just this morning. I told him I’ve been
anticipating his call, wondering if some other goons were lurking around to
whack me, or him even. He said I was too paranoid for my own good. I told
him what Monica suggested, that we may have been royally duped by Bob and
Bill, and if that was the case, others from the Armageddon Initiative may be
still out to get us.
Mike replied, “Whatever those two agents intended, it
doesn’t matter now. Although I got a swat on the ass for letting them go,
our agents finally did catch up to the two and apprehended them. They’re in
custody now, and being interrogated.”
“Glad to hear it. But what about their scheme to fake
our deaths?”
“Evidently they were legit about it, far as I can tell.
Because they were discovered trying their own fake-out. They were putting
two stiffs in their van and they had that grenade-launcher ready. Our agents
foiled that little scheme.”
“Not very creative, are they?”
“They begged for protection from the Initiative since
they were trying to defect, so we gave them a deal. We give them witness
protection if they give us info on their outfit, or anything on the Group in
general. So they complied.”
I asked anxiously, “So what juicy secrets did they
spill?”
Mike replied, “Unfortunately, I’m out of that loop. My
classification doesn’t go that high.”
“That sucks.”
“But the good news is I can tell you results of
information that was revealed in the interrogation, because our agents were
able to act against the Armageddon Initiative, and they acted pretty fast
too.”
“That’s great!”
“So my intel informs me that all current operations in
the Initiative were being aborted.”
I exclaimed with glee, “Seriously?!”
“Yeah. Essentially, Foundation agents caught the head
kahuna of the Armageddon Initiative in a major bank embezzling scheme.
This individual is a CEO of one of the major mega-banks --but I can’t
disclose which one-- and he’s also a big-wig member of the Bilderberg Group,
the Trilateral Commission, the Council of Foreign Affairs, and probably
numerous other covert Group subsidiaries.
Not only that, but the authorities tied him to the assassination of a
particular politician --also can't disclose that-- which means he probably
hired a hit man to do it.”
“Holy crap! This is a major turn-around!” I exclaimed
excitedly.
Mike chuckled gleefully, “It sure is! This fiasco
caused major problems with the whole Initiative, so it had to recede from
all covert activities, or any other diabolical plans, for the time being, at
any rate. They couldn't afford
to jeopardize their actual existence, because once revealed to the public,
they would be finished.”
“Wouldn’t that be great? The whole outfit defunct.”
“Unfortunately, taking it down isn’t that easy, and
especially the Group as a whole. This mega-conglomerate is too huge.”
“For what it’s worth, I can just keep discussing it in
my online articles,” I suggested.
Mike continued, “Talking about the Group and its covert
activities on your blog as you’ve been doing has been risky, but it’s often
viewed by many as tabloid material. So who’s going to believe any of it?”
Mike didn’t let me down slowly on this point.
“That’s the problem with this kind of information – it
always sounds too incredible to believe.”
I felt discouraged.
“The other secret societies and covert outfits of the
Group have to be extra cautious now as well, so they won't get sucked into
the same muck and mire that the Armageddon Initiative has miserably sunk
into.”
“Too bad for them. But I still wish there was a way to
expose the whole conspiracy to the public, take it beyond the usual
conspiracy theories and the tabloids.”
Mike went on, “If we ever got lucky to where the proper
authorities and the media took it seriously, circumstances would change
drastically. The broadcasting of its existence and illegal actions in major
newspapers and TV networks would cripple it severely. Not to mention law
enforcement agencies, like the FBI and CIA and the NSA would take it
seriously and they’d all have huge assignments on their hands.”
“Don’t they already know about the Group and all of its
secret factions?” I asked.
“Like many govt departments, they can't admit such
heinous intel to the media; they have to publicly deny it or anything
resembling a diabolical New World Order plot – just like they conveniently
deny the reality of UFOs and ETs. The usual cover-ups, you know.”
“That sucks royally.”
“Plus there are the usual rumors of corruption within
the Intelligence Community, or essentially Group infiltrators hidden in
their ranks. But the Foundation has no concrete evidence of this so far.”
“That doesn’t sound good at all.”
Entry #0127:
Juicy Intel from Mike, Continued
08-16-2009
Mike continued, “Anyway, the Armageddon Initiative will
be on hiatus for the time being. Since this criminal outfit is going
completely underground and out of sight for now, you don't have to hide any
longer.”
I asked him, “What about safety from the Group in
general? Isn't it still doing its dirty work in spite of the Initiative?”
Mike replied, “The Group as a whole still functions,
but taking a lower profile than usual, being extra cautious. As it stands
now, you’re small potatoes, and not worth messing with anymore, although it
was essentially the Initiative that was after you.”
“But because of Bill and Bob’s plan, we’re considered
dead to them now, aren’t we?”
“Assuming the Initiative bought it, which I’m sure they
did. But it doesn’t matter anymore. We’re outside their radar range now.
Even if we miraculously resurrected from the dead, so to speak, they’re too
busy with making adjustments, yanking agents from
assignments, cranking things down for now, pulling up their stakes in
various operations. Particularly because the Foundation is continually
giving them a hard time, and the Group in general, because we’re finding
more of its members that have been caught with their illegal pants down. For
instance, a select few from the Council on Foreign Affairs attempted to set
up a dictator in some small Middle Eastern nation, where oil is plentiful,
in order to swiftly acquire it, which would lead to total oppression of its
people while the rich aristocrats get richer off the oil. But the Foundation
thwarted that diabolical plot quickly. So too many larger activities are
taking place around the world, making anything you and I did miniscule in
comparison. Besides, anything you’ve been saying online is regarded as
highly questionable by most. Essentially just the rantings of a crazy
crackpot.”
I snarled, “That's flat-out offensive, Mike. I gave out
a lot of revealing info in my blog, and also on other online avenues too,
which caused those goons to pursue me – if not to kill me in the end.”
Mike reassured me, “At first they kept their eye on
you, yes. They didn’t want to take the chance that what you were saying
would eventually go mainstream. So far, it hasn’t. Few will believe any of
it, or even take it seriously, so to most it will amount to mere tabloidism;
just a series of radical conspiracy theories.”
That didn’t reassure me, but I knew that was the case.
“But I take it seriously. I’ve been hoping this info would get out to
the public, you know, for all to see.”
“I know. But look at it. How much of those tabloid rags
do you believe?”
I replied, “None of them. They’re all full of crap.”
Mike said, “That’s how most people will view what
you’ve written.”
I shook my head. “It’s not fair.”
“It never is."
"Then why did they even bother with me if I'm just a
ranting lunatic?"
"To be on the
safe side -- because they're
just as paranoid as you've been."
"Figures."
"But the important thing is, you and I are out of the
picture now.”
“Well, that’s good to hear, I’m relieved. Perhaps I can
keep my old pseudonym after all."
"I'd say it's just as safe as anything else; crossing
the street and risking getting hit by a truck, breathing polluted city air,
eating pesticide-filed veggies, or any other ordinary thing that could
eventually kill you." Then Mike chuckled slyly.
I chuckled, "I suppose you're right. But you're lucky,
since you're not supposed to be in the public eye, using codenames, keeping
undercover, stealthily creeping around on secret missions, practically
invisible to everyone."
"You're exactly right."
"So, what about you? Any new missions?”
“Since this case is closed now, I’m being reassigned.
Something top-secret. I’ll have to kill you if I told you about it.” Mike
chuckled.
“Fine, I won’t pry.”
“Take my advice. Forget about all this and breathe
easy.”
“You’re right. Besides, I’m gonna focus on other topics
now for my articles, paranormal phenomenon, UFOs, aliens, and such.”
“Good plan.”
We said our good-byes and hung up.
So I can breathe easy now. I took a long deep breath,
something I hadn’t done in a long time, and then said aloud, "Thank God!"
Entry #0128: Back in Action
08-21-2009
Since that crazy cloak-and-dagger fiasco is over now,
I’ve felt more relaxed than I have in a long time, not since this whole
thing started last summer. I lived a whole year of being on edge, walking on
eggshells -- no, on light bulbs with bear feet while lightning struck me
from above and bullets zinged around me from all sides! Alright, maybe it
wasn’t that melodramatic, but it sure felt like it at times.
I actually stepped outside this morning, not feeling
like some sniper was gonna whack me. So I've gotten back to taking my long
walks again, enjoying the desert for all its beauty, and going down to the
Kountry Kitchen every day now and having lunch, and mingling more with
people in town.
Last night, Calvin Jones -- still feeling apologetic
and all – took me to a popular steakhouse in Victorville, the Barbed Wire
Grill, had big juicy sirloin steaks and baked potatoes, and some beer to
wash it down. Plus yummy Key Lime pie for desert. So Calvin was officially
back in my good graces after that. I told him the whole crapshoot I was in
the middle of was over now. He was relieved to hear it.
I tried to reach Monica again, only got her voice mail
– again. I lost track of how
many messages I left. Mostly saying things like “Call me right away!” and
trying not to sound too panicky about it, as if she’d falling off the face
of the Earth.
Now that this insane debacle is done with, I’m finished
with all those New World Order and secret government articles in Zones
Unknown – and I’m sick and tired of researching this crap anyway! – which
I’ve been linking to Chronicles
of Area 57. So now I plan on turning to something less depressing. Most
likely I’ll work on articles more on the lines of Ufology or paranormal
activity, anything truly eerie and strange, but we’ll see. The main thing
is, I don’t have to hide any more!
So, Starky, old boy --
you're back in action!
Entry #0129: Tying up Loose Ends
08-24-2009
I finally reached Monica. She apologized and said her
cell phone broke (it fell down a flight of stairs) and it took her a while
to replace it, but since she was visiting her brother in San Diego, that put
it off further. That sounded like one of those fabricated excuses people
give you, but since I trusted her in general, I believed her.
So I told her
that this whole fiasco, as far as I was concerned, was over. I told her
everything Mike told me. I asked if her feelings of trepidation for me were
based on her psychic impressions or what. She apologized again, told me she
had been afraid for me, paranoid like I was, and that blocked her psychic
sense at the time. Now she said she could clearly tune in and feel that I
was definitely in the clear, that I didn’t have to worry about it anymore.
She told me she wasn’t 100% accurate with impressions or images she got, but
that emotions or personal investments could easily block her, that her
ability required a lot of work for her to stay clear. She told me she has by
no means perfected her ability. She saw herself as a beginner at it.
I suggested I come down to the city and visit her for a
week or two. She said she’d love that. I told her I have to get out of the
desert for a while anyway. Even if it means gonna the claustrophobic city
and breathe brown poisoned air. She told me she now lives in Redondo Beach
in a decent little bungalow off the ocean, and the smog isn’t so bad there.
I feel this is the end of a chapter in my life at this
point, and I’m ready to embark upon the next. Actually, what I’ve put
together is a whole freaking book, with many chapters in it. It’s all in
this blog format for now, but someday it’ll be a book you can hold in your
hands. Someday . . .
I can leave the dusty old desert and move about more
freely now, or even go down below and rekindle a possible relationship with
Monica. But I’ve gotten comfortable here in the high desert, not quite ready
to move so soon. Anyway, I am ready for what comes next. I’ve got a feeling
something’s just around the corner . . .
Entry #0130: Back in the Loony Bin
08-26-2009
I woke up this morning, and found myself back in that
small white cell of the loony bin. Was this reality, or another nightmare?
I noticed the door was ajar, not locked like usual. I
got out of the cot and opened the door, looking out. The hall was not only
empty, it was absolutely quiet. Not a soul in sight. I walked down the long
passageway, noticing all the doors had been opened in the cells of this
sterile nuthouse. I climbed down a flight of stairs, and entered another
long hall, then walked into the lobby area, and the whole time I met not one
person. No doctors or nurses in white coats, or orderlies in white slacks
and shirts, no yellow pajama-wearing patients.
No one was stopping me from escaping this asylum, and
it was at that moment I realized that I actually was escaping, and nobody
was stopping me. I entered through the glass double doors, walked down a
flight of wide cement stairs, then along a wide flagstone walkway cutting a
path through a vast lawn with countless trees. The path led to a parking
lot, where there were no cars. I stopped and looked around. I didn't see one
human being. To the left there was a dense forest, and to the right there
was an open prairie. I ran for that, and it felt good to run, breathing
deeply of the fresh air around me. I was finally free.
I shot up out of bed, down in the sleeping quarters of
Area 57. Thank God it was only a dream. But it gave me a clear message. The
enemy was no longer a threat to me; “they” were not around to harass me
anymore. I had escaped the insanity of this whole situation; I was free from
this whole demented escapade, free to go wherever I wished now.
I had to get the hell out of this stink hole called
Area 57! Perhaps this was the real loony bin all this time.
I smile, because now it's time to pack a few bags, head
down below, and visit Monica!
Adios, amigos!
Entry #0131: Era’s End
08-27-2009
This is the end of an era, so like me, you’ve
officially escaped the loony bin! All that paranoia, intrigue, danger, and
hair-raising adventure is enough to make a guy stark raving
mad! Like me! But I hope you enjoyed the show! Happy trails, folks!
Beginning of the Next Frontier!
In the meantime, prepare for the next rip-roaring high
desert adventure coming right up! I’m already starting to suspect this dark
crypt of a place called Area 57 is a nexus that draws not only danger and
intrigue, but strange paranormal phenomena and eerie occurrences! You’ll see
when this gnarly adventure unfolds!
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