Intended or not, I overheard a conversation pertaining to death and the mind between Aquino and a lab assistant as I lay on a cold, metal table in a deep hypnotic state, Aquino was saying that I had come close to death numerous limes which "increased my ability to enter other (mind) dimensions en route to death". I had listened to Aquino talk at length about such concepts before, as though he were trying to convince himself of some interdimensional time travel theory. "Whether in principle or in theory, the results are the same," he claimed. "The concept of time is abstract in itself." Hypnotic talk of past-present-future set my mind in a spin that, when combined with Alice In Wonderland/NASA mirror world concepts, created an illusion of timeless dimensions. I now know that the only "dimensions' I experienced were elaborate memory compartmentalizations of real, earthly events by real, earthly criminals, and certainly not by aliens, Satan, or demons.
After moving me from the table to an elaborate box, Aquino then shifted my mind to another area of my brain, claiming to have taken me into another dimension by way of "death's door". This was accomplished while I was subjected to sensory deprivation combined with hypnotic and harmonic re-programming. The seemingly coffin-like structure was transformed in my mind to a crematorium, where I endured the sense of increasing heat while "I slowly burned" through hypnotic suggestion. Aquino then "pulled me through death's door" and into another dimension, "void of time". Parts of my programming were "recreated for the recreation of world leaders," i.e., U.S. President Reagan, Mexican President de la Madrid, and Saudi Arabian King Fahd.
In my next recollection of awareness, Houston, Kelly, and I were in Hollywood, where Houston claimed the motor home "broke down" — an over used attempted memory scramble. He sent me down the street to telephone Michael Dante, who lived nearby in Beverly Hills. Dante was expecting Kelly and me to join him in his Beverly Hills mansion for several days as bad been previously arranged by our handler, Alex Houston. Kelly and I waited at the phone booth as instructed until Dante arrived to pick us up in his midnight blue Ferrari. As soon as I sat down, Dante said, "I got something for you, Baby, Give me your arm." Heroin was a common «vice» he shared with Bush, and he shot me up with the drug right in front of Kelly.
Later that evening at his house, Dante told me that he refused to "handle damaged goods," and that he would not be my next handler as previously planned. Not only was I "not fit to live with" him, but I was not "fit to live" at all. I am not certain what he meant to accomplish by these threats, but I know in retrospect that this was not his decision to make. Besides, I never perceived existence with him and his professed «love» as a «future» anyway- Instead, he said he would go along with the original plan long enough to acquire Kelly".
The next day, hours before I was to meet with de la Madrid, L.A, Dodgers baseball team manager Tommy LaSorda, George Bush, Jr., and star pitcher of Jr.'s Texas Rangers, Nolan Ryan (who was also a banker) were at Dante's house working out the details of money laundering and bank transactions for the imminent opening of the Juarez border cocaine, heroin, and white slavery route. The common bond of covert criminal activity overrode any professional baseball conflicts between them. All three were in town to be in attendance at various gatherings and parties of Reagan's, who would be arriving in a matter of days. And all three appeared to have an understanding of my function as Reagan's "Presidential Model" mind-control sex slave.
Dante was gathering the necessary clothes and props for the evening rendezvous with de la Madrid. LaSorda, Nolan Ryan, and Jr. were standing in the entrance way of Dante's house attempting to activate my "Baseball Mind Computer" programmed personality fragment that had inadvertently been shattered by Bush and Cheney's traumas at Shasta. Dante told them, "She knows more about baseball than you and Tommy (LaSorda) put together. Go ahead and ask her something. Anything."
Much to LaSorda's amusement, Nolan Ryan asked, "How many times does Fernando Valenzuela (Dodger pitcher) touch his hat if he's going to throw a srewgy (screw ball)?" I could not respond, although I had once known more statistical data than would ever be in print,
Jr. hollered, "Hey, Dante". What's with your baseball computer here, huh? Are we supposed to say a magic word?"
"I don't know," Dante responded. "Could be drugs. Her sex is working fine, though. Give it a whirl."
Jr. declined, saying, "No thanks. The Baseball Computer sucks enough. Listen, we'll see you later." Jr. had never shown any interest in me sexually. Like his father, he had only shown sexual interest in Kelly, who had been away with him most of the day. As he turned to leave, he stroked me under the chin and cryptically said, "Have a Ball tonight".
LaSorda, who had not been on his Ultra Slim Fast-sponsored diet yet, said, "Speaking of balls, mine could use a little attention here." He unzipped his pants.
Dante told me, "We gotta get dressed. Three minutes." Three minutes was a trigger for me to perform a specific, oral sex act. I knelt on the floor and pushed up LaSorda's enormous belly, resting it on my head as I groped for his penis as ordered. Dante's two Great Danes came in as Jr. and Nolan Ryan left I had been forced to participate in a bestiality film with these sex-trained dogs earlier that day, and I had to fight them off as I sexually gratified LaSorda before getting ready for "the Ball".
CHAPTER 27
HOTEL CALIFORNIA
Dante threw me a short, red, slinky dress with rhinestone straps and a pair of "glass slippers" to wear to "Cinderella's Ball", The shoes, like Oz ruby, slippers and Philip Habib's "magic lightening boll" shoes, were to trance-form me into the personality fragmenl ihat had been pre-programmed for the event, Dante escorted me to the party/"Ball" where I was to meet with Mexican President de la Madrid. Dante had been bragging about his "second home in Malibu" ever since I first met him, and the place was opulence personified. I do not know who actually owned «his» second home in Malibu, California, but Reagan's influence was evident in the decor. From the front, the white stucco house gave the illusion of being two-story. The view overlooked a secluded Pacific bay, and revealed three levels built into a cliff. Through the smoked glass wall panels that spanned the back, the three stories, lavishly carpeted in red, white, and blue provided a patriotic view. All levels had a beige-white interior decorated in gold and crystal. An enormous chandelier hung from the "cathedral ceiling, illuminating all three levels at once from the greatroom which overlooked the bay.
I was told that Uncle Ronnie (Reagan) would be arriving the next day. It was my "patriotic duty" to attend de la Madrid's welcome party and "wear down any resistance he may have" in order that Reagan's business meeting with him would "go smoothly". This was not the first time I heard this excuse for being politically prostituted, nor would it be the last. In reality, I was to do the initial dirty work, delivering messages, and encourage de la Madrid lo use drugs and party with abandon. The diplomatic relations between the U.S. and Mexico were already strong, but this phase of the operation requited total commitment from de la Madrid.
Dante and I waited at the top of the staircase as de la Madrid, accompanied by two bodyguards, climbed to the red level of the house. I greeted de la Madrid, "Welcome to the U.S. and (seductively) welcome to the Hotel California." His deep-throated laugh indicated he had been cued to the ramifications of my cryptic statement. "Hotel California," taken from a popular song by the Eagles, stated "you can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave." To de la Madrid this confirmed the permanency of his involvement in the criminal, covert operations in which he was conspiring. Blackmail was openly initiated to ensure that each criminal participant understood that if one fell, they all fell. Maintaining «dirt» on each other through this Mafia-style method was seemingly the only way these criminals implementing the New World Order kept each other "honest." De la Madrid and I went into a nearby bedroom, followed by Dante and the bodyguards. Dante then activated the programmed message instilled at the Shasta resort from Bush to de la Madrid. I recited, "If you please, Sir, I have a message to deliver to you from the Vice President of the United States. Welcome to our Neighborhood. As you know, Salinas and I have worked out the details towards implementing our plan to open the Juarez border tomorrow. In preparation and celebration of this accomplishment, this little party tonight will bring you face to face with a trusted few who are integral parts of this endeavor, and give you the latitude to see firsthand the friendship and honor among the (government-involved Mafioso) family members, I regret that I could not be here in person to greet you, but Ron (Reagan) can show you the ins and outs of the organization better than I. The transaction numbers have been recorded, and are available to you for cross reference purposes and to uphold the integrity of the players involved on your end of the Juarez border. Your commitment today ensures you of a higher economic standard of living for your people, increased relations with the U.S., an influx of American industry, and a position of high esteem in the New World Order, With your 'Seal of Approval' we can dissolve the Juarez border and make way for a future of prosperity for Mexico. For now, relax and enjoy your stay."