Monday, July 2, 2007

July 2, 2007 - Entry #14

July 2, 2007 - Entry #14

*This diary is intended to be an official record for the world as to what is happening to me and my family and what (although unknown at this point) is to be. -- for an accurate reading, please scroll down and begin with Entry #1*


I’m not sure if I’ll ever come to grips with what I’m about to write. The past 12 days have been beyond words but I’ll do my best. A lot has happened since my last post and I finally have the chance to document most happenings. (although it may take a couple of posts over the next day or so to catch up)

I am currently typing this from an airport hotel in Canada. Boyd and I are on route, under U.S. military escort, to Alaska...


The morning after my last post, Boyd and I crossed the border into Mexico.

It was obvious that they were waiting for us.

We crossed on foot for two reasons. No passports are needed (for people crossing on foot) and no explanation/insurance documents etc are asked for.

The plan was to hire a driver pay him as a guide. Before we could ward off a swarm of locals selling their souvenirs, dozens of Mexican soldiers suddenly appeared from nowhere. They grabbed us, cuffed us and threw us into the back of an unmarked van.

We were driven (at amazing speeds) to a small town (I still don’t know where this is/was). We were pulled from the van and hurried into a small warehouse type building, separated into two different rooms where I sat, cuffed to a chair, waiting for over an hour.

The stale heat in the small room was unbearable and my wrists ached like hell, cuffed tight behind me.

I sat there thinking the worst. I’ve heard horror stories of Mexican prisons and corrupt Judges. I knew I wouldn’t be able to pay off any bribes and at that moment, alone in an empty room with a steel table bolted to the floor, I thought my life was over.

My thoughts drifted from worries of imminent beatings and extortion to my wife and son. I would have given anything to tell them I loved them and wanted to see them one last time.

I now know what goes through your mind when the ‘fat lady is about to sing’. You simply think about the ones you love.

Finally the door opened and man walked in (Mexican) wearing a suit and eye glasses. At first glance one would assume him to be an accountant type. But considering where I was sitting, I immediately thought him to be a lawyer...about to offer help...for a price.
But I was wrong.

He took off his eye glasses and without a hint of any emotion (or the slightest drop of sweat) he proceeded to tell me he was American and he was here to ‘help’ me and my family. He then mentioned, without hesitation that he worked for the U.S military.

Before I could say anything, he continued with the following...

“Your family has been watched since the day you brought your boy home from the hospital (adoption). Not by us (U.S. Military) but by a rogue, global, secret organization...”

I raised an eyebrow and he continued...

“...Between the years of 1947 and 1998 there have been, on average, 54 documented, abductions of humans by this organization each year. (this number is supposedly higher)...

...The overall scope of their project is unknown and aside from various experiments, the main purpose of the abductions is to impregnate females and return them to their lives...

...A good majority of the women impregnated were the offspring of mothers who were also impregnated with them. A second generation...

...It is speculated that roughly 1500 women have returned with roughly half actually given birth. The others have had miscarriages at various stages of pregnancy without anyone the wiser...

...At first it seemed that the women were chosen strictly due to genetics (above average in physical attributes/health/intelligence) but data shows that the ‘selection process’ also includes similar family, social backgrounds...

...Overall, we speculate that the scope of the ‘project’ is to genetically modify the human race in small steps.”


At this point all I could do is stare at him while he took a break from talking and cleaned his glasses. The man spoke as if he was casually mentioning baseball statistics.

He then looked at me for a long, unblinking moment and said “What do you know about the Grays?”

I stared back silent. At first not quite realizing what he said. I was having a hard enough time trying to absorb everything else.

He repeated the question to me.

I stared in disbelief “Fucking Aliens?”

He nodded and I burst into a fit of laughter.

I tried to talk but I was laughing so damn hard I couldn’t even breathe. I mean, I watched X-files and I’ve seen movies. I’ve even heard of crap like this on late night ‘on the fringe’ radio where nutballs call in to describe how they’ve been ‘anal probed’ and implanted with alien listening devices.

Then my temper kicked in. I wanted to explode. I told him to get fucking serious. I demanded him to let me and Boyd out of there and to ‘Charge me with something or get fucked!’

He calmly returned his glasses to his face and continued...

“I’m not going to waste time here. For the moment, you need to know two things. Your son has been kidnapped by an incredibly dangerous woman...”

No shit

I tried to tell him Claire is headed to Peru with my son. (my son and julian’s map) but he carried on...

“...Claire isn’t in Peru anymore. And latest intelligence shows that your wife is most likely being tortured.”

Before I could demand more information he promptly left the room.

Five minutes later Mexican soldiers returned, threw a bag over my head and ushered me back to the van.

The next thing I knew I was sitting next to Boyd on a large helicopter. Both of us with black bags tied over our heads. Boyd and I tried to speak but without radio headsets the blaring helicopter blades made it impossible.

Two hours later I could feel the helicopter drop in altitude. Moments upon landing, two hands pulled me from inside. I could feel flat pavement below my feet as I walked, guided by someone on each side of me.

I could hear the helicopter rise away when the handcuffs were removed and the hood pulled off my head.

I squinted around through blinding sunlight and noticed Boyd standing a few yards from me, also squinting as his hood was removed as well.

Two American soldiers stood on each side. Desert camouflage.

My eyes adjusted on a sparse, never-ending, desert terrain and long, rolling mountains the distance.

The soldiers suddenly stood to attention when I noticed my ‘Accountant type’ friend from emerge from a steel building’s open hangar. Beside him, a high ranking, uniformed soldier with skin like leather.

The pair reached me as I rubbed my wrists. ‘Mr Leatherskin’ held out his hand looking as serious as a heart attack’

A split second thought wanted to refuse his hand but I took it anyway.

He looked me square in the eye and said “Welcome to Detachment 3, Groom Lake, Nevada gentlemen”

I scanned the desert terrain again and the various hangars/buildings and it dawned on me where we were.

I turned to Boyd and could see his face was showing the words that wanted to escape my mouth. Then he said it for me...

‘Area 51?’







.

18 comments:

Jody said...

I hope you have not stopped writing... ?

James said...

I talked to him personally... when he knows it's safe, he'll post again...

BELIEVE!!!

SDR said...

I sure hope it's soon. I have been on the edge of my seat for nearly two months now.

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