Frightening times

Dear Readers,
Thank you for your emails asking me to continue my story Chapter 10 entitled "Monarch", and I am sorry that for certain reasons I am not allowed to continue or finish it - reasons I am not at liberty to discuss.
However, I did want to let those following the story in to a few interesting pictures I've just run across on GoogleMap.
You may be aware that Google sent a new, high-resolution satellite into orbit called GeoEye 1 and I must say that the resulting pictures are astounding to say the least!

For example, check out this picture of Montauk Point (note the resolution setting in the lower left corner in all pictures):



And this one at Orient Point just few miles away:



Now check out the following set of pictures of Plum Island about a mile away from Orient Point.
This is at 500m resolution. Pretty good, eh?:



This one is at 100m resolution. Getting a bit blurry isn't it?:



This one is at 20m resolution, the same as the ones at Camp Hero and Orient Point. What the frack?:



And finally, just for giggles, here's a 20m shot of the flagpole in the center of the Pentagon (same resolution as the one above it):


As they say, a picture speaks a thousand words and I hasten to add that none of these pictures have been manipulated by me...

A note from the author..

Harumph!
Accidentally skewer a Secret Service agent with your umbrella (I really AM truly sorry about that one) and you get attention to everything you do - email read, phone tapped, blog profile looked into etc. - but there's one thing you should know fellow shadows: I doubt you have high enough clearance to read my complete NSA file (try the one at ONI and good luck) and I have changed enough data in my stories to disguise names or true locations.
That said, get back to investigating true threats to your Principal, OK.

Oh, and BTW for future reference: try having passengers enter from the REAR of the car instead of walking by the Principal as well as having a sniffer with the local doofus' on the platform BEFORE boarding.

PS: Merry Christmas and keep up the fine work - with you guys protecting the POTUS and VPOTUS, we know where your true loyalties lay!

Being very very careful

First I'd like to apologize for not writing here in over a month (!), but there's a pretty good reason that I haven't continued "Behind the Green Door".
Guess what? I pushed a boundary that I said that I'd never cross when writing these memoirs, and damned if it didn't catch up to me.

Trust me, more will be coming soon 'though - just as soon as I go out and buy more tinfoil..

Prisoner of Conscience - Part 3

 This is the third section of what I am now calling the "interrogation" of who may be my lost boyfriend by who knows what agency..

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Memory Dump Subject 0141960-M
Entry 3 - 01:3:50 / 102905


I am going crazy. I know it.
I really don't know how long I've been here.
I have no one to talk to, and no one talks to me.
I see no one. I can't tell what time of "day" my food arrives. It arrives sometime at what I think is mid-day, but I never seem to be paying attention - it's a little like watching for water to boil - and then PLOP! - in pops the tray.

I am however devising a way to count by timing how soon I can get water in my sink, but I still have no frame of reference except to stand in front of it and count in a syncopated manner, shoving my hands into the sink in 10 second intervals until the water trickles forth.

And this is why I know they are watching me.
As soon as I had some frame of reference for time and date, they stopped the water from coming every 10 minutes. I know. I counted.
Well, that and the fact that after I started to beat my head against the toilet in order to kill myself, I was taken to another cell.
I did manage to conk myself pretty hard, or at least hard enough to knock myself out cold, and when I woke up my head had been stitched and the remnants of blood that had caked on the edge of the toilet seat from previous attempts had been removed.

So, if they weren't watching me, how did they know that I hurt myself?
I am confused. They won't talk to me.
I don't know what they want.
I don't know how long I've been here or how long I will BE here.

I guess I'm a political prisoner but I have no idea where I am, or even what they want from me.

From time to time I masturbate, having long since given up any hope of privacy and in much need of relief. God I miss "D".. I wonder what she's doing right now...
I think about her all the time in the continuing silence; our talks long into the night, her fantasies and crazy stories she makes up. I even miss her talking in her sleep.
Ouch. My head hurts.