Lee Nevins Bracker
Kincaid’s nerves shot as the sound of a cat cried outside. Something must have scared it because it raced from where it had been. Perhaps another cat jumped the hotel pool area wall and became territorial. He shuffled from where a complimentary pot had been brewing and with great care, he placed his coffee next to the laptop. On the screen was a transparent star chart of the Hunter Constellation, Orion, taped over the display of a scanned image of a topographical map of the Grand Canyon. He was digital photo manipulation challenged.
I visited the Festival of Books to find Elizabeth Gunn who had spoken on two panel discussions regarding mystery and crime writing. I told her who I was and what I did. To my surprise, she was excited enough to invite me to speak about the Loughner case for their rather large meeting group. I felt that I needed to begin sharpening my pencil once again after two decades in between novels. My first fictional tale was published in 1991 and my next sometime between now and 2015. I think I have enough material to write for the rest of my life.
He fished through his pant pocket for not less than a minute before picking up the phone.
“Main campus library. How can I help you?”
“Hello Maggie? I may have left my flash drive in one of the computers in the map room.”
“Ah, Kincaid. I have it. Did the topo of the Grand Canyon help?” The librarian knew the drive was important.
“It’s of no concern. You can throw that away.. I don’t need it. I just wanted to know if I had left it. Thanks Maggie.” He lied about the importance of the drive. They were listening. Looking at the monitor, Kincaid thought about his father who had named him after the mysterious archeologist, George Kincaid. The Smithsonian Institute will not acknowledge that a G.E. Kincaid ever existed. Even after the 1909 Phoenix Gazette article chronicled the archeological discovery of the Grand Canyon’s under ground citadels filled with Egyptian artifacts; the institute had clammed shut. His father routinely explained to the boy that the belt stars of Orion matched the pyramids of Giza. “People from Africa, Kinny, would come here using subterranean tunnels,” he would say. It never occurred to Kincaid senior that Orion matched the Kaibob Plateau as well. What he did know was that his boy was keen and would follow in his footsteps and become great.
Kincaid proved that all of the monuments of the Grand Canyon are not at all natural, but intelligently built. Whether it be by aliens, humans, or both was not his business, however, flipping recorded history and all of the geological sciences on their backs was. More importantly, it was shaking up his peers at a major conference he looked forward to. It was his way of retaliating against his teachers humiliating him by saying he was a poor student. So it seemed at the time, he took their taunts more serious than the school bully. The day before, he had interrupted a panel of experts discussing lost civilizations. Uninvited, he tried to show proof that a river did not arbitrarily carve the features of the canyon. Instead, it merely removed the soft silt of the Great Deluge from the once magnificent ancient city. Orion’s stars proved that. In this case all of them lined up to the severely eroded stepped pyramids, towers and temples thought to be natural buttes. If only the tourists knew.
The phone rang. “This is Kinny.” The voice on the other end was not thrilled. Kincaid hung up and dialed another number. “Ehn, I’ve just been warned.” He immediately hung up.
Kincaid’s heart raced. That dark roast wasn’t helping to calm his nerves and he opened the balcony door to breath in the morning air. Where a decorative planter had been undisturbed the previous day was tipped over this morning. “Shit.”
The problem was not that Kincaid had jumped a stage to prove that geology is a complete lie to thousands of people. The issue at hand was that he unveiled a one hundred year old secret held by the Smithsonian. The secret society’s desire that it not become public was now breached. Kincaid’s discovery was an offshoot of a more important investigation into a potential planned catastrophe further west within another canyon, the Black Canyon, on the Arizona Nevada border.
This actually took place. I attended an Open Minds IUFOC conference in which David Childress (yellow) and two other panelists were discussing whether aliens existed or not. I paced back and forth in disbelief when they talked about the pyramid finds around the world with the exception to my discovery that the star pattern of ORION matches the monuments within the Grand Canyon. I wasn’t liked very much by the organizers, technicians who had to edit me out of their taping and so forth. The following morning, I sat with David with my computer in which he wasn’t the least bit interested. David Hatcher Childress is considered the real life Indiana Jones. Based on this quite shocking display of disinterest, this simply is furthest from the truth.
Just as he picked up his phone after going back in through the back door, the same number displayed. “Yes?”
“I heard you jumped the stage last night”
“I did no such thing. I put my foot on the edge and reached as far in as I could to hand off my laptop to Childress sitting in one of those couch potato recliners. They try to make those panel discussions look so living room cozy. He wouldn’t take it.”
“David you mean…?” Blue said laughing.
“…And, this morning when I explained to the world’s top pyramid hunter what I was trying to show him the day before, which he wouldn’t dare look at, was an embarrassment in itself. He was eating alone, I sat and pushed my computer over his way. You know what he said? First off, his reaction was, “mind passing me the salt?” It wasn’t until later this morning I pulled up an interview he did on Noory’s show regurgitating old history about the Egyptian underground dwellings that the Smithsonian pretty much covered up. All he did was repeat tired news as if he discovered it himself.”
“Kinny”, the voice said, “you have to be discrete with these guys. They don’t want to retract their books, DVDs, and rewrite their articles on account of you. Can’t you move on?”
Kincaid reached for the coffee now that he wasn’t overexcited from the adrenaline rush. Talking shop with his trainee helped. The fear of the ‘spooks’ snooping around the hotel grounds after scaring the cat dissipated. “I think the damage control protocol is being set into motion. They’re outside as we speak.”
“You’re going to have to go under cover. You’re bugged for certain. They have most likely been tracking you and now you’re more under their microscope because of Hoover Dam. They could care less about freaking cities built by aliens in canyon visited by ignorant site seers. You’re the most unusual crime scene investigator this world has ever known. How you do it is extraordinary. You are not just a pyramid hunter, Kinny, you’re Edgar Casey.”
“The Hell if I am.. I don’t commiserate with off world beings to get the answers.” Kincaid looked around for what next to do. The warning call was still on his mind.
“ Well, teach, right now you have to hide in plain sight as Kerry taught you when you first called her about the British Petroleum chess move. Don’t hide, but get off grid so that you can have peace at night.”
While I cannot disclose BlueSphinxDNA’s identity, I can say that this person is very real and quite special. My investigation into the MILAB abduction that took place in the middle of May 2013 partly resulted with the defection of all of the supersoldiers from Lorien Fenton’s Supersoldier and Mind Control Summit for 2014.
The voice on the other line was a supersoldier code named Blue Sphinx dna. She was the only one who knew not to attend the Super Soldier Summit the year before in Henderson, Nevada where a mass secret military division abduction program took place. MILAB. She was unaffected by their mind control which was why she knew better. Kincaid met her only by phone after exposing and solving the abduction in which seventeen people were drugged and taken in the night for mind control reprogramming and DNA experimentation. Their relationship was a symbiotic one in which she taught him all there is to know about supersoldiers and he taught her the rest of what it means to be a soldier. This time Kincaid needed her guidance. He didn’t cover the back alley crimes in which forensics and laboratory analysis came in handy for solving murders. No. Kincaid was a world class national news crime case solver. The next nine eleven he predicted twenty years after the World Trade Center towers were destroyed was foremost of concern and Blue Sphinx DNA knew it.
“Blue, are you still there?”
“I need you to hold important information. Ask Maggie. No sharing of addresses though. I’m going to let you figure out how to retrieve the data. No need to fly down, but you and I may have to converge at some point. I have to engage in action and so it’s not just talk about the conspiracy to kill Hoover Dam anymore. It’s time to go public about it. The data is my ‘life insurance’ or the torch you’ll have to carry if you know what I mean. Are you ready for a showdown?” Kincaid didn’t wait for an answer. He hung up and threw the phone in the garbage.
Barry Soetoro took an afternoon break from the debates held in Las Vegas to tour Hoover Dam. I speculate that he is completely aware of what the structure does and what its fate is regardless of how the media presented his ignorance about its function and purpose. If Hoover Dam is what I suspect it is, he too knows.
The president had been in Las Vegas debating against his opponent for his second term. He claimed to have never visited Hoover Dam. The reports in the Associated Press played it off as if he had not known its electrical output was not used to power Las Vegas to make him seem American – oblivious. The truth of the matter is that he knew what the dam’s purpose and fate is. Why a president would not know this fact is absurd, thought Kincaid, but he knew of the president’s service within black projects while in his preteens on through his college years. The man spent his youth as a guinea pig in Project Pegasus. There were as many as nine time travel technologies in experimentation at the time. At the age of seven, he had already jumped back and forth in time and later, had gone to Mars along with Regina Dugan, the woman now running the NSA’s front social networking company most of the planet’s people are addicted to day in and out. Dugan was shifted from the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency to work with Bill Clinton’s former Vice President and together staged the consolidation of all social networking websites for the National Security Agency. While idly chatting with friends, Kincaid mused over the nomenclature calling them instead, “The National Surveillance Agency.” That always eased his audiences. From the rear seat of the cab after leaving the hotel, kincaid contemplated a call to his old friend, Andrew. “Why not? He may have changed his mind.”
“Kincaid. I’m using a throwaway because I’m running. Listen please, okay?”
“No”, said the shallow voice after a deep pause.
“Andy, I know saying what I said didn’t sit well with you and if you let it go, I have something important to do.” Kincaid wasn’t sure if Andrew Basiago would hang up or stay on.
“It’s been over a year and you’re still hot on the Hoover Dam exploitation trail. Look, it’s not a Stargate, alright? Get it yet….? Pegasus was about nine other technologies for teleportation.”
Andrew Basiago had asked that I help him with his presidential campaign. I declined, but hadn’t said so when after I suggested that he still may be influenced by mind control. I offered to help him with the deprogramming therapy. As a result, Andy was terribly upset as I came off as insulting. I don’t regret what happened as I am a truth teller, but I do know that unless he has a solid campaign coordinator and think tank, he will not be a successful contender against the powers that be. The following exchange is somewhat a sequence that did take place as we discussed the possibility that Hoover Dam can be retrofitted to appear like a ring, or Stargate, using the Pat Tillman Bypass bridge.
“Okay Andy it’s not a Stargate. Well, not the way I originally saw it. Even though the radius of the Pat Tillman Mike O’Callahan bridge span ribs match the radius of Hoover, it’s not how they’ll disassemble the bridge spans and add them to Hoover to create a Stargate circular ring. I’ve come to realize that they are actually going to make that concrete heap disappear like two buildings on Manhatten Island eleven years ago. Andy, I originally thought that they had designed the structure with the bridge on a drawing table almost ninety years ago and felt that they would convert the dam into a Stargate. Like anyone who understands the theory would assume that it would be used as a fancy transportation modality only for the Elites. I thought that for a long time until I realized that the dam itself is a stand alone bomb. Freightliner Trucking company projected that fact to the public and nobody knew better. It’s CERN Andy, and it was designed to self destruct in a one time materials heist instead of a way to ship products around the globe. Simple Tesla concepts, Andy, and that’s a lot of steel. They want it all in a one time event just like with the twin towers to be re-manned into railway rails in China just like they did with the trade towers to create a neo Nazi railway system. You know as well as I do that the reason for luxury liner and ferry mishaps are by design. People will travel by rail once the other modes are eighty-sixed.
You were on the president’s jump team as kids, were you not? But, that was over forty years ago, Andrew.. technology has changed in half a century. Honestly, I think it’s Pegasus only scaled up to epic proportions.”
“So what are you saying, Kincaid?”
Kincaid was raised his voice as the words spewed forth. “I’m telling you that it’s time to go public so that three years from now if the dam blows, they’ll declare Martial Law. They’ll do it two years after the 2016 election and is why you need to be elected so that doesn’t happen.”
Andrew Basiago said, “Calm down please, my phone is chattering. I asked for your help in my campaign to run in 2016 and you said I was still under mind control. You said that I could use therapy.” Andrew wanted a pissing match.
“No Andy, it’s not important. You know I’m the key holder of the protocol for undoing CIA mind blocks. My assumption was past history, and I’m sorry. I can still do the work for you and get you elected if that’s what Project Pegasus was really all about. They always throw Hillary into the mix as a diversion, but I wonder why they never considered Regina Dugan who was on your team in Pegasus?”
“Dugan is DARPA even though she’s at Google. That runs the Military which runs the nation. She runs the technological world while Napolitano runs the death squads. In reality Regina has been the president’s president during his public’s sensory perception. I don’t always agree with you and I don’t with the conspiracy that Hoover Dam is earmarked for decommission though. Listen, why would they do this where only ten thousand people would be affected? Explain why again…?
”Food. It’s the nation’s food supply. If the water isn’t controlled, one quarter of the nation’s supply is wiped out in one day. Con Agra, Monsanto, and the rest take over the foreclosures and either leave Los Angeles and San Diego to rot. To fight a stealth war, the enemy cuts off the food supply and starves the people into submission. It’s not ten grand, Andy, it’s almost a hundred million Americans affected.”
“Baloney.” Andrew Basiago had enough. He hung up.
Kincaid thought, “So much for making a president.” If Andrew didn’t support the cause, then it was apparent he cared only to become a president running on his agenda and not the people’s. All the child participants of Project Pegasus had a right to run for president. The controlling powers that groomed him incorporated the mind control protocol very well and could make or break each dependent on if they would completely conform as a nation’s puppet spokesperson of massive power or not. The man could not shake it off. Kincaid knew that Basiago’s reputation would be rendered non existent for revealing he was part of a secret government project like that. He would be a laughing stock if he uttered the word “Stargate” as a campaign promise that time travel technology in which products can be moved effortlessly without petroleum consuming cargo ships. “Nah, the average American has no clue and never will understand what DARPA really does with these otherwise beneficial technologies.”
“My connection is a little crackly.. I’m flying to Washington to meet the president. I’m going unannounced if you can believe that. Can you hear me now?”
“My God. You’re not serious. You’ll disappear.”
“No I won’t. I’m sure you’ll get the you know what I asked you to get. That’s my cyber poison pill. I need it in your possession before I announce myself”.
“Yes I do Kinny.” Blue began to sob.
As a result of the independent investigation regarding the wounded congresswoman, Gabrielle Giffords, and the assassination of Judge John McCarthy Roll, I elected to go “off grid”. I felt I would be safer if I disappeared while continuing my investigation.
“Blue, I have faith that if I’m received poorly and shipped off to ADX in Florence or something like that, I expect you to carry the torch. The nine eleven in two thousand and one took more than three thousand lives. It was planned well before, but nobody did a thing to stop it. I have three years making it a point to expose this next one. That’s if they don’t dispose of me first. I’ll be made a mockery, but the logic stands alone. I may ask you to get Andrew Basiago elected president. You’ll do what I couldn’t. You’ll convince him and God knows I tried. He’s frightfully arrogant not admitting I’m right. So maybe you can change his mind. You have to deprogram him my dear. Please, I’m almost at the White House front door an a few hours.”
“You’re really something Kinny. Had I thought you only to be a website blogger who’d ever believe it? Okay, I’m in. Either you live and we meet to work on this or you die and I die trying. You’re right mister.. and you would make a true president because you have a heart. Your mission is always people first.”
“Hey hey Blue..” Now Kincaid drew a tear.
Kincaid was crying for joy because for the first time, someone decided to go to bat for him. Blue was without direction when he introduced himself to her not even a half year ago, but in the short time molded her into something special. She was more than what she felt she could be. With or without him, Blue had learned from the most experienced crime scene investigator of the most unusual kind.
“Blue? Are you still on?”
“James Casbolt is my half brother.”
“He’s the top echelon supersoldier, Kinny. How dare you say that knowing he savagely injured me.”
“I’m the hidden one and not him either. I always have worked behind the scenes to fix what people like that broke. I’m also the one to set even my own brother straight. The MILAB abduction in Henderson, the British Petroleum thing almost went nuclear if it wasn’t for me, and I brought the real shooters to justice in the crippling of the Congresswoman. You can’t do that if you had been trained like we have. I’m on my way to save a nation by going toe to toe in the den of a viscous lion. This one gave trillions of dollars out and kept trillions more securely away in the hands of private interests after Bush left. He’s signaling World War III by pitting Russia against China to bring this country down. An Academy award winning space flick shows us that, and we need Andrew to secure the presidency in 2016 to stop that avalanche – a border lock-down is the result of a destroyed dam.
“I always felt it Kinny. You somehow flew under the supersoldier radar.”
Blue put her phone on the bedside table. She looked at it for several minutes before brushing it over the edge where she knew the small bedside garbage container would be.