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"They" did eventually figure out what I'd done and that I knew how to fly alien craft.  I was abducted into Area 51, taken a few levels down by one of their black ops spooks to a small office containing only a desk, a desk chair and a straight back chair facing the desk. The spook shoved me into the straight back chair.

​

Across from me sat another military goon. His hair was graying, cut in a military buzz cut at that time. I sense he was high ranking although the clothing he wore gave away nothing about his name, rank or anything else. The spooks were always very careful about hiding their identities from us in order to avoid arrest and prosecution. I'd later find out from other Milabs that they'd nicknamed him "Bulldog". The name fit him, it's exactly what he reminded one of. I immediately disliked him intensely.

​

He stared at me for a few moments as though sizing me up.

"Tell us what the aliens are up to. You know what the aliens are up to."
"Tell us about alien technology, their weaponry. You know alien technology."

He took out a paper and pencil and shoved it across the desk at me. I get very sarcastic with people I dislike and I was disliking this clown more and more by the second.
"Draw us a map of the universe," he demanded.

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I shoved my drawing of the universe back at him. He glared at me.

​

'Tell me what happened to Atlantis."

I thought this was a rather odd question to be asking and noticed he'd now said "me" instead of "we". But I'd come to understand his interest in Atlantis when I discovered his real identity and read his bio.
I saw an opportunity and seized it. Obviously he didn't exactly know what happened to Atlantis or he wouldn't be asking about it.

"Well, now that's a long story so I'll give you the condensed version. Assholes like you began playing God with people's lives, which pissed the big guns off, so they wiped the Atlantis assholes off the map and sunk their island. You're doing the same damn thing so you clowns are next on their list for a second go at sinking your military installations and drowning the lot of you in the process. You clowns are slated to be the second Atlantis." (Hey, he wanted to know what the aliens were up to! *GRIN* Let him digest that one for a bit...)

​

He brought out another paper and shoved it at me.

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"You read alien script. Tell us what this says."

"It's a ship propulsion system," I answered.
"We know that! Tell us what the alien script says!"
I pretended to read the script. "It says BATTERIES NOT INCLUDED."

​

Pushing his buttons was having the desired effect. His face had begun turning red and a vein on his forehead was beginning to pop out.

​

Then he demanded "Give us the key."

"What key?" I asked, truly not knowing what key he was referring to.
"You know damn well what key! Now give us the key!"

"I don't know what key you're referring to."

​

He glanced at my black ops spook standing behind me and in the next second I had a gun to my head.

​

Buldog jumped up, banged his fist on the desk and screamed "GIVE US THE GODDAMN KEY!"

I sat back in my chair, smiled at him as smugly as I possibly could and said "Well, if ya shoot me you'll never get the GODDAMN KEY, now will ya?"

​

Apparenlty Bulldog felt I hadn't been the least bit cooperative. He punished me by having me thrown on a medical exam table and gang raped by his black ops spooked. This was daily Milab fare inflicted on us but we'd learned how to endure it long ago. I took my mind somewhere else.

​

In 2024, I'd learn Bulldog's real identity. I'm not going to reveal it because I don't want anyone getting killed on my account, even though he's now retired from the military but has made himself very apparent in UFO related issues on TV, in podcasts, etc. He's a certifiable, sexually deviant, textbook psychopath in my opinion. Put it this way...his hobby was inventing torture devices with which to torture Milabs. I won't go into detail because it would most likely make you sick to your stomach.

But this is from his biography:

[Name withheld] describes his assignment in 1972 as an infantry officer at Schofield Barracks, Hawaii, before which time he went diving in the Bimini Islands in search of the mythological continent of Atlantis.

He was high ranking as I'd sensed, a Colonel.

​

Shortly after this military interrogation two things happened. I was first put into service as a Milab pilot since they now knew that I knew how to fly alien craft and telepathically link with them.
I was abducted again to Area 51 and marched through a hangar full of TR-3B's, describing them to my panel before I ever knew the USAF had a TR-3B..

I was again escorted down several levels in 51, to what I could only describe as a pilot's ready room.

Both my spook escort and I were dressed in black flight suits. We'd just made a propaganda movie that would be used to deceive the public masses and I was seething inside. 

​

This ready room was constructed of concrete block with metal doors. On one wall a movie screen had been inset into the wall. In front of it sat a couple of rows of blue home movie theater style seats. Behind them was a desk with a chair. I was made to sit behind this desk.

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Soon other pilots dressed in black flight suits began to assemble in the room. Something was "off" with them. They looked almost identical to one another, having a boy=next-door appearance to them. I immediately sensed these guys were evil.

​

We were made to watch the 'propoganda' movie we'd just filmed. I remember none of the movie itself, only the credits rolling at the end - white type on a black background. As each pilot's name would appear in the credits, these guys would congratulate one another on a job well done. It made me want to puke. My name was the last to appear, in type so small one could barely read it.

​

These pilots, who I'd later discover were clones of one another, all began taunting me. 
"Who are you? You are NOTHING!"

I wasn't falling for their BS and shot back "If I'm such a nobody then why are you kidnapping me multiple times a week to bring me here?!!"

​

I'd later be told by a member of my panel that the 'movie' had been a mind control programming session performed on me that had failed. The first step in mind control programming is to destroy one's self esteem and I hadn't allowed them to do that. The Angelics later informed me that those of us who were volunteers had been incarnated with a natural resistance to this mind control programming, the Angelics knowing they would perform it on us and not wanting us to succumb to it.

​

I don't doubt this was true. Around the same time I was subjected to this mind control programming session, a military bigwig took me to one of their mind reading centers to try to convince me "Resistance is futile!" - one of their mantras they used a lot on us.

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Sketch â—‹ Dr. Karla Turner

There was a huge screen on the front wall of this room that could be divded into several smaller screens. Long tables containing advanced computers filled the room. These were the mind reading machines. They would capture facial expressions and one's verrbal language and transform it into thought images that projected on their computer screens and on wall at the front of the room.
 

But the Angelics had already clued me in on this mind reading business, advising me to go silent with a poker face in my communications with them, that the military spooks could not read my thoughts without facial expression and verbal language. I'd done just this, blocking the black ops spooks from reading my thoughts - which is why the military took me to this top secret mind reading center to try to convince me resistance was futile and that they could read my thoughts.

Then again they're pathological liars and routinely try to convince people that they can do things that in reality they cannot do at all, in order to keep the masses in fear of them.

​

After their discovery I was from off planet and knew how to operate alien tech and ships, the CIA put me into the SSP as a pilot. If I thought my life had been hell before, I hadn't seen anything yet!

​

There was an interesting postscript to this attempt to mind control me and showing me the mind reading center, however. There is a group of we Milabs that are telekinetic and can do things with our minds, even blow a person's heart up in their chests. (If you doubt that's possible, then just watch the movie The Men Who Stare At Goats, the true story of the CIA's psychics.)

​

Not only were we Milabs physically tortured during our abductions, we were remotely physically tortured on our lives on the surface. This happened to me night after night until one night I'd finally had enough and decided to teach the black ops spooks that directing energy worked BOTH ways.

I went down the lines of computers in their mind reading center and blew every single one of them up.
Chaos ensued on their end. I'm non violent toward people (even them although I wouldn't classify them as people or even human) but I also believe in seizing an opportunity when I see one.

I telepathied "Mess with me again boyz and I'll blow your hearts up right in your chests!"

The nightly physical torture sessions stopped that night and they never attempted to torture me again.

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