BOOK OF RACHEL
Extending the tripod near the window and mounting the video camera, he looked through the eyepiece and watched the airport. I used the binoculars to survey all the entrances and exits not used by normal traffic, luckily there was a Black Lear sitting on the tarmac.
We were there about an hour when Dwaine's phone rang. "Hello," He said. Then, he added "Room 725."
He turned to us. "Our lookouts have arrived."
I still watched as we waited another five minutes for our replacements arrival, knocking on the door. Patty opened itr, letting in two men in their fifties.
They introduced themselves and told us there were a couple more riders traveling around the airport, looking for a flat, straight street with little traffic suitable to use as a runway for the large radio control jet.
We explained what they were looking for, some sort of regular black Lear flight schedule, with Limo's coming and going. We only had to tomorrow late afternoon to make a decision, hoping to destroy the black Lear with the most important Heads of the NWO and the new NOAMER, the Illuminati, the New World Military in their Black Uniforms.
We left by Sepulveda, heading to Santa Monica Topanga Canyon Boulevard
Word had gotten to them that we were coming so when we arrived, Jim and John were working on the F8 Spymaster inside the trailer. They didn't want to bring it out in case drones were overhead.
We parked beside the trailer and moved into it quickly.
"What are you doing," Dwaine asked?
"Figuring out how to load some explosives," actor said. "Taking a Lear down just by mid air collision is not one hundred percent. We need to explode on contact. That meet your approval, Rachel?"
"Sounds good to me," I responded, a little surprised they asked. If they weren't smiling when he asked me, I might have wondered his meaning.
"We haven't decided if we want to explode on contact, cause that will be hard to set up, or explode by radio control, which will take exact timing, hoping the connection doesn't get garbled."
"I'd vote the radio control," I said.
"That what you want, that's what you’re getting. Your timing was perfect destroying the Limo yesterday, so you’re on the button tomorrow."
John said, "The nose cone comes off, and there's enough room for three sticks of dynamite. It'll have to be a direct hit. Can't really hit it head on. That would be almost impossible."
I mentioned, "It would be nice to see it go down in a ball of flames into the ocean, but I'll take what I can get. If it goes up in flames on the runway and everyone is killed, that would be good enough."
"We have a runway," John asked?
"Looking for one right now," actor said.
"We'll need about three hundred feet of flat surface. Paved of course."
"From what we saw from the hotel, the only surface smooth enough was the runways."
"No way can we drag this trailer onto the tarmac."
Patty mentioned, "PCH is only five miles away."
"Too far away. This jet only has a RC receiver that covers about a mile."
"That's tight," I said.
"We'll get it done."
"Said like a leader. Keep us positive, Rachel."
Actor said. "Let's go inside, let these guys get it done."
We all agreed and one at a time, followed actor into his house. Actor, myself, Patty, and Dwaine. We went into the little older wooden cabin overgrown by Walnut trees. Actor's wife and the other woman who lived there made us lunch. First time I ate home cooked warm bread in a while.
Time to get back to Dwaine's we left, one at a time riding the dirt paths up to the ridge top and onto the firebreaks which were the easier part of the famous Backbone Trail.
That was the first time I rode my Harley I stole since it was modified and painted black.
Then another short trail till meeting up with the dead end mini mansion streets of upper Encino. A few turns, and never closer then a half mile apart, they turned onto Dwaine's street.
A half mile more downhill towards Ventura
We had Episode eleven of 'The New Reality' to do in the next five and a half hours to our eight o'clock Digital short Wave broadcast window and Dwaine's is were the Digital Shrot Wave link and editing facilities were.
Someone was waiting inside, let in by Randy the now head of the Wounded Warriors, aware by the security receivers.
He spoke with Dwaine alone for a bit and then he went downstairs with Randy.
Patty and I went to receiving, editing room to see what came in from around the world now that Digital Short Wave was replacing the internet.
That was about the best the Underground could do right now. Distribute what was the last profitable business, manufacturing Digital Short Wave receivers.
For security, we didn't know where the broadcaster was. Only Dwaine knew.
Dwaine came in to see us, as we began turning on the editing and recording equipment, hooked up to the wind mills. He carried a map book, opening it up looking for something.
"Okay. We got a location to launch the jet."
"PCH," Patty said?
"On the end of Sepulveda, by the homes on the original street, before the airport was built. There's a more used newer Sepulveda; this is next to it, in the homes right off the runway."
"Any word from the airport lookouts?"
"A little. They have a schedule when they fly. They can see limos on the tarmac."
"Any videos," I asked?
"Not yet. They haven't secured a SW broadcaster in the area. Bikes are moving the info now. Takes time."
Patty and I had just started the incoming video clips of different attacks on New World Order some from other parts of the world, and our minds were distracted.
Dwaine finally left, and in a couple hours, the VO to be added later.
We finally changed the start, making it looked more produced, more professional. It started with a short montage of shots taken and sent; since shots are easier then video's to send. Pictures of War and Riots in Europe, one from America Japan
Welcome too:
'THE NEW REALITY'
Produced by PRIVATE CONTRIBUTERS
A JIM created show.
Directed by RACHEL
Edited by PATTY
The music was haunting, something right off the computer synthesizer.
As the show displayed on the main TV screen, I wrote the dialogue.
Finished with the script, and going live with the Voice Over just before the eight o'clock window, I decided to visit Bill Thomas.
With a baseball hat and my ponytail under my t-shirt, I moved like a young man walking across Dwaine's large yard to the street, no sidewalks here. Three doors down I walked it Bill Thomas's yard with the single driveway into the street faced garage.
Angela answered my knock, "Oh Rachel. 'Rachel for President'. Have you seen the signs, dear heart?"
"I've seen the signs with a price on my head."
"Oh my. I haven't seen them."
"They're full page in the LA Times."
"Financed by the Kock Brothers I assume."
All I could do was nod.
"Bill is in his office. I'm sure you want see him."
"I enjoy talking to you."
"Let me put it this way. Bill has something to show you." With that, she led me down the hall to the first room on the right. The door way open, Bill was reading from one of his real old books stacked behind him.
After I entered, Angela closed the door from the outside.
He swiveled to look, "Rachel. I'm so glad your here. It's time for you to see the truth."
"Well hello to you." I stepped up. "Three years, Incarnates, what else is there?"
He looked at me for a moment. "Angels," he said finally.
I looked at him for moments. "Now you got my attention. I figured I'd see Angels after I die, which hope I'm along way from."
"I've been wondering what level of incarnate you are. I know now. I was told last night."
"Who told you?"
"Oh, I didn't see who told me, but I saw your face in a halo of light."
"Okay."
"Your nineteen, right?"
I nodded.
"Our current Government trying to reorganize to retain order. The 2016 election is over. Paul Rund is declared president."
"The guy with the rich up his ass."
"The guy promoted by Rove and the Koch brothers."
"The guys who fly around in the black Lear Jets."
"I suppose."
"Okay, are ready to leave for a couple days?"
"Leave? We can't drive anywhere, soon there will be roadblocks every couple miles."
"We are not driving, and you'll go alone."
"When?"
"Right now. You’ll be gone maybe days."
"Wait a minute. I'm the trigger man tomorrow. They need me."
"Look, your our best hope for the 2020 election. It we all survive the changes."
"Three years?"
"Give or take. All the Northern Glaciers melted, average twelve degrees warmer then average. Europe freezing up. We've had two more Tornado Swarm's in America
"No. No. Wait, I'm not going to go anywhere until we attack LAX tomorrow afternoon."
"You've been in a lot frontal attacks. More then your far share. We don't know if we can protect you. Your destined to lead a small tribe to survive and flourish past the fall of the NWO."
"What? So that's what it's all about. After this NWO depopulates three quarters of the worlds population, the survivors finally turn on the last of the families, at the every same time we have a polar shift?"
"By 2019, because of your memory what you did in 2016, when the power elite turned on the world, the fight you led will leave you a legend. Not so much if you die tomorrow."
"It's my idea, and I know the trigger timing."
"We can't protect you."
"We?"
"Well, not you. Each attack you do is a game changer for our enemy; they didn't think there would be frontal attacks on their Terminals, and Processing Centers
"Now they got drones over all these targets. You'll be lucky if they don't have drones over the airport. So far, they learn to counter our attacks, but you give them more. You take them by surprise and they become more aware."
That was about my take. There was evidence of drone strikes in the Valley you could tell by the sudden fire. They were getting close, tightening the noose around us all and humanity. There was talk of a drone grid being established over us all by 2018.
"Well, my adoring fans don't know this is it, my last show."
"Tonight?"
"No, that broadcasts at eight, so I have to be there. What time is it?"
"Seven thirty."
"Then I got to go back to Dwaine's. We’re doing the voice over one minute before it goes on air."
"And tomorrow? You editing before broadcast?"
"We got lookouts at the airport. They only have a few hours to find a pattern watching the amount of traffic. Limo deliveries. Then set up sometime tomorrow. It might be late afternoon. Broadcast live as they search for survivors at the crash site."
He hesitated for moments.
"Then you’ll be ready?"
"Ready for what?"
"Your taking a little trip. Remember?"
I looked at him for a moment. "And where am I going again?"
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