You must realize liars control the truth. They are going to target your awareness so that you remain unaware. The silent weapons that the Controllers use are keeping you undisciplined, ignorant, confused, and distracted. They know that you co-create reality based on what your mind believes to be true and real. So they tell you what they want you to see and hear. It is done so gradually, so slightly, that the change in your behaviors and perception is unnoticeable. If you don’t know that you have been programmed, it is because you have been programmed. That is what they want. That is their primary weapon in this quiet, imperceptible war.
Sunlight streamed through partially opened curtains and into a low-lit room. Two large ceiling fans swirled a blend of dust and cigar smoke in this light. The room was stately and expansive. A large and long table filled most of the room. On a dark wood-paneled wall hung several paintings, and on the opposite wall was a series of built-in shelves containing old leather-bound books, military artifacts, a moon rock, and an unusually colored crystal. Spotlights in an alcove illuminated photos of General Wayne Carcano with the President of the United States of America and other world leaders.
At the far end of the room, around a fireplace, were large red leather wingback chairs. Carcano was sitting in one of these chairs, holding a tumbler in one hand and a large cigar in the other. Instead of a uniform, he wore casual clothes, attire that didn’t blunt his usual powerful, commanding manner.
He growled, “We need to move forward. Diana Willis shouldn’t have survived, and Briscane knows this changes everything for us.”
Reginald Deighton was standing a few feet away and paused his conversation with Jeff Kennedy. The dozen other men in the room suddenly quieted and moved in closer.
Carcano placed the tumbler on the end table beside his chair and sat upright. “She served her purpose like the others have all these years, and we got what we needed from her as one of our programmed media representatives.”
“What’s next?” Deighton asked.
Carcano took a big puff of his cigar. “Willis is one of Briscane’s and as her main handler, he will trigger an alternative plan to slow her down. This will turn the world against her. She must be discredited.”
A tall, slender, bald, and serious-looking man with a narrow thin-lipped mouth and heavy, black-rimmed glasses abruptly interjected, “Intelligence is tracking Herald.”
He was the only one who abstained from drinking or smoking. He was standing back from the rest of the group but moved in a little closer as he continued. “How he disappeared or even survived such a crash is mysterious. We think he may have been able to save Willis before the aircraft went down. The FBI is investigating, and I will make sure they keep after Herald and stay within their boundaries. Intelligence thinks they know where his secret documents might be, and we will try to get them. We must consider all options.”
Carcano moved forward in his chair, picked up his glass, swigged the rest of his liquor, and rose to attention like he was addressing a formation of soldiers. “Gentlemen, we know the stakes. We have stopped this many times before with all the resources we have available to us. I made it clear to Briscane and I want us to understand too, that if she gets her powers back and reconnects with her past, everything we’ve been working for will be over.”
Carcano paused, put the cigar into the ashtray, and then looked at each of the other men before continuing. “We cannot let that happen under any circumstances. Do I make myself clear?”
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish