NAFTA agreement.
Prepared to present a modified Hands-On Mind-Control Demonstration to de la Madrid, Dante said, 'You've heard from a Carrier Pigeon (messenger). You've seen her in a mode to accept program. And now I will demonstrate some of her sexual modes.'
'That will not be necessary,' de la Madrid told him. 'I have been given a handful of keys that I would like to use on my own, including the one to destroy all memory. Not that it matters when we are monitored (he gestured toward the camera), but nevertheless I was instructed to do it.' Dante did not seem to know this was not the first time I was sexually prostituted to the Mexican President.
'She rides a horse well,' Dante said, referring to both the rare practice of heroin to supposedly block my memory of this event, and a Reagan-inspired sex act. Dante stuck a needle in my arm. 'May I recommend a ride for you?'
'I am on one now that I would like to maintain,' de la Madrid answered, referring to cocaine use and his running nose. Dante laid out several generous lines of the white drug on a black mirror. He stroked me under my chin triggering Reagan's sex Kitten personality, picked up Bush's heroin, and ushered the two guards out the door.
De la Madrid, fully aware of my pornography exposure, said, 'You like cameras? Let's give them something to watch.' He snorted two more lines of coke, undressed, and further activated my sex programming with the verbal and physical keys and triggers Reagan had previously provided him. At one point he enthusiastically commented that 'if I have my way, the Free Trade Agreement will include a few top of the tine (he snorted another line of coke for emphasis) «models» (vaginally) carved and trained like you.' De la Madrid had
long been obsessively fascinated with my vaginal mutilation carving. He was perversely excited at the prospect of the Juarez border joint venture drug deal including protected 'free trade' of mind-controlled slaves. He reiterated his desire the next day during a meeting with Reagan.
CHAPTER 28
'FREE TRADE' OF DRUGS AND SLAVES AT THE JUAREZ BORDER
The next day. Dante drove me to a Bel Aire mansion high on a hill where another party was underway. As I joined those who had gathered on the manicured lawn, I recognized many of the same Mafia people who had been at the Malibu retreat aka 'Hotel California'. This was a welcome party for President Reagan who had just arrived. He was walking across the yard toward me with his friend. Jack Valenti, who was the president of the powerful Motion Picture Association of America. Reagan looked his role amongst his mobster friends, his beige coal with fur collar draped over his shoulders revealing a dark grey, pinstripe suit underneath. In retrospect I remember him as dressed like the one mobster I did not have to meet, John Gotti. As soon as my eyes met his, I was knocked to the ground by a familiar blue-white blast (high voltage) like the one I had recently experienced in D.C.
When I came back around and my eyes refocused, Dante was holding me up. Reagan said, 'Well, hello Kitten'.
'Uncle Ronnie, how'd you get here?' I asked in child-like innocence.
'The rainbow, Kitten, the rainbow,' he answered in Oz cryptic, 'I told you I was coming home. There's no place like home, and you said it with me. So, here we are. I keep a little piece of the rainbow in my pocket so I can get back over it (to D.C.) anytime I want to. I make a wish, and click my heels, and I'm gone.'
For the moment, Reagan succeeded in confusing my mind with Oz cryptic metaphors, reconfirming to my child personality that he was indeed the powerful Wizard. As we went inside for a brief meeting, my personality was deliberately switched to the one that had dealt with de la Madrid the night before.
The grey-white stucco house was decorated in plush Presidential blue carpeting and deep, cherry wood tones. The «office» was small and further crowded by those of us present for the meeting. De la Madrid was comfortably seated, as was Jack Valenti. I was not privy to Valenti's exact role in opening the Juarez border, I only know that he was well educated lo the particulars of this meeting. Dante and I remained standing since we would be leaving as quickly as I heard what Reagan, who was shuttling papers and pacing the room, had to say.
'Well, Kitten,' Reagan said to me, 'this is your death sentence: You'll go out ia a blaze of glory.' I was not surprised to receive confirmation of my imminent death by Reagan. I had heard about death by fire from seemingly everyone involved in establishing 'free trade,' through Mexico, of our nation's children for drags. Reagan's use of patriotic metaphors and puns while matter-of-factly informing me he ordered my death was reflective of his often displayed lack of respect for human life. What reflected his character even more were the crimes he was involved in that prompted him to cover-up through 'sentencing- me to death. I had witnessed the criminal foundations of NAFTA, which in turn could threaten the successful implementation of the New World Order should these secrets ever be revealed. Initial 'Free Trade' including drugs and white slavery extended beyond the U.S./Mexican border. It routed U.S. traumatized, robotic, mind-controlled children into Saudi Arabia, while building up weapon stockpiles in Nicaragua and Iraq. Although I was considered to be no threat, predicated on the (erroneous) belief that I could not be deprogrammed to regain my memory of these events, my death would provide extra insurance to those involved. I was nearly 'used up' anyway, and recording my death via 'Snuff Film' was agreed upon as proof to De la Madrid and other leaders at risk, that I had indeed been silenced through death,
I could not think to respond to Reagan's 'death sentence'. Dante wanted to make sure I grasped the point as he graphically expounded, 'The next time I ignite your (sexual) flame. Baby, it will consume you, body and soul. And you will burn, Baby, burn. And I'll take your ashes and scatter them to the wind. I'm going to blow you away. On film.'
Upon hearing something cryptic to which he could relate. Valenti laughed at Dante's twist of words. Referring to the old, porn, blue pencil editing term 'Blue movies,' he added, 'Blue blazes'.
Dante laughed with him. 'We'll call it 'Who In Blue Blazes Was That? Or, how 'bout 'Cream-Ate'?'
De la Madrid noticed Reagan was not laughing and said, 'That's like erasing a Mercedes to film a stunt,' He leaned forward in his chair closer to Reagan, lowered his voice and said, 'It is my desire to have seven just like her roll off the assembly Line and shipped to me prior to the agreement's completion.'
Reagan agreed, responding, 'Those (blonde-haired, blue-eyed) fine kids on the relay to Saudi Arabia are top of the line, but they don't have what she's got.'
'Two faced Ones are hard to come by,' de la Madrid quipped, referring to my vaginal mutilation and Presidential programming code. He cut his eyes over to me, touched himself and cryptically continued, ' — from one perspective, anyway. And I like having 'One' I can 'count on.'
Reagan chuckled while Dante shifted his feet and unfolded his arms long enough to cough-laugh. Valenti seemed to be bored of cliches or was missing many of the cryptic double meanings, but judging from the tone of the meeting, that was just as well. 'I'll mention it to Bobby (Byrd) and delegate your order to him,' Reagan told his Mexican counterpart. 'It should be relatively simple to slip one in for you every few shipments or so once the Juarez border is open to such free trade activities as planned.' Reagan spoke as though he were distracted and thinking of something else, even when he looked my direction.
'If you please, Sir,' I began, 'I have the Presidential Seal of Approval and am prepared to fulfill my role.' Dante looked at his watch, aware that I was scheduled to be at the Juarez border by the 'stroke of midnight'. Reagan walked over to see the paper I had received from de la Madrid the night before.
'OK. Well, farewell. Kitten,' Reagan said, as he kissed my cheek. He added in Oz cryptic, 'I'll see you on the other side (of the rainbow in D.C.). Click your heels…'
My world spun black. Someone had hit me with a powerful stun gun and I was down, feeling as though Dante was half dragging me as he led me to his car, which was already idling in the circular drive. We soon pulled up to the motor home at the gas station on Hollywood Boulevard, where he had picked Kelly and me up several days before, Kelly was already in the motor home, vomiting sick and horribly traumatized. She had been convinced by someone that I had been killed. Houston attempted to create a hypnotically induced 'time slip', acting as though I had only been gone a few minutes. We drove quickly, stopping only for fuel in order that I be in Juarez at the appointed time.
