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Date: Sat, 29 Nov 1997 06:24:31 -0700
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From: "Signs Of The Times!" <signs@cwinet.org> (by way of Paul Andrew Mitchell [address in toolbar])
Subject: SLS: "A Trip On the Dark Side" (fwd)
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Signs of the Times is sponsored by Christian Worldwide Internet
Signs of the Times is a mailing list dealing with current events
in light of the prophetic teachings of the Bible.
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...O ye hypocrites, ye can discern the face of the sky;
but can ye not discern the signs of the times? Matt 16:3
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An excerpt from:
COMPROMISED: Clinton, Bush and the CIA
By Terry Reed and John Cummings
Editor's Note:
This book is one of the most amazing books I have ever read.
It is almost 700 pages and I have read it from cover to
cover. It is the true story of a CIA sponsored drug
smuggling operation based out of the tiny western Arkansas
town of Mena. It began with a secret operation to smuggle
weapons to the Contras in the 1980's during the Reagan White
House directed by Oliver North, and ended up as a drug
smuggling operation directed by then Vice President and
former CIA Director George Bush, and Arkansas Governor Bill
Clinton.
This book was written by CIA operative Terry Reed who was on
the inside of the operation, training Contra pilots at a
small airstrip a few miles north of Mena. Terry flew with
the late Barry Seal who was the lead pilot of the drug
smuggling side of the operation. Barry Seal was gunned down
outside of a halfway house in Baton Rouge, LA, that he was
sentenced to for drug smuggling charges, after he allegedly
took secret photos of George Bush's sons being present once
during the loading of Seal's plane with drugs.
It is rumored that Seal's peculiar halfway house arrangement
was "fixed" by the Justice Dept. because it kept him on the
outside, where his enemies could get to him, but at a
certain fixed location where they could easily find him, a
prime target set up like a duck in a barrel. Terry Reed has
survived only by living his life and that of his family's,
on the "lam" for the last 10 years.
The most amazing thing about this book is that when it was
released it hit the Best Seller list, and for now, it is
still available at your local bookstore. The second most
amazing thing is that nothing has been done about it. It
would seem that if this many people knew what really went on
in our government, we would have a revolution on our hands.
This books reads like the best spy thriller, but its hard to
believe that its a true story, and that the cast of
characters are our former and current President and their
staff.
This brief excerpt details the fascinating and intriguing
world of espionage and the enticing lure and unlimited
resources of "Uncle's" secret operations. In this passage,
these two men, both being expert jet pilots, rendezvous in
the air, to take "a trip on the dark side".
COMPROMISED: Clinton, Bush and the CIA
Chapter 15
"A Trip On the Dark Side"
It was Friday Evening, December 13, 1985, just eleven
shopping days until Christmas. Barry Seal couldn't know
that he had little more than two months to live, and his
telephone voice was filled with excitement.
"Glad I caught you, Santa Claus!. Its time for the trip to
my brother's place. I've checked winds aloft, and they're
predicted to be one-niner-zero degrees at thirteen thousand
five hundred feet. We should plan on leaving from my place
day after tomorrow at 1400 hours. You may want to bring a
RON (remain overnight) kit, and remember, there's no phone
at his place. You want to remind Janis, so she's not trying
to contact you there."
"Sounds good to me. Will I need a hunting license (a coded
reference to a passport requirement) where we're going?"
Terry asked.
"Yeah, but I'll take care of that. This trip's on me, and my
brother is really anxious to meet you. I'll call my brother
and tell him we're coming. Adios, Papa Bravo," Seal ended,
as usual, with a chuckle.
This cryptic conversation set in place a pre-planned
sequence of events that Seal and Terry had devised at SOB's,
a week earlier. All Terry had to do was remove "ones" from
each of the coded elements of the message. Ever since the
FBI/McAfee, that had led to Aki Sawahata's problems, Barry
didn't trust Terry's home phone. Seal and Terry felt McAfee
was mentally disturbed and that he had probably listed Terry
as being a "known associate" of Sawahata. Therefore, they
had worked up a way to relay coded flight plan instructions
for their secret trip to Panama.
As Seal spoke, Terry jotted down some specially coded
details on a telephone note pad. To decode Seal's
information, Terry merely had to remove "1" from each item:
190 degrees - 1 = 90 degrees, 13,500 feet - 1 = 3,500 feet,
1400 hours - 1 = 0400 hours, day after tomorrow = tomorrow.
This meant Terry Was supposed to be awaiting to intercept
Seal's plane on the 090 degree radial of the Monticello,
Arkansas VOR (navigation fix) at 3,500 feet at 4 A.M. the
following day.
"His brother" was Seal's reference to a CIA handler who was
setting up the meeting in Panama. His reference to a RON kit
was his way of advising Reed they might be gone for more
than one day. The lack of a telephone at his brother's place
meant for Janis to understand there would be no way to
contact him by phone while he was out of the country. "Papa
Bravo" was to be decoded as P.B., or simply a cryptic way of
"calling the play" - or piggybacking. Terry would have to
tell Janis he wouldn't be at the dinner table for a few
days, something routine for a spook's wife.
(This section details the meeting that Terry previously
had with Seal at SOB's, a local Little Rock restaurant to
discuss among other things, CIA operations in Mexico
directed by John Cathy, AKA Oliver North. - Editor)
...The remainder of the meeting was devoted to outlining the
needed codes for a piggyback operation. In addition to the
normal procedures, which were to be conducted in matching
400-series Cessna aircraft, Seal said that after the aerial
"swap," the two men would rendezvous at Love Field in
Dallas, where Seal would have his Lear serviced and ready to
go. The Lear, he said, would be used for the balance of the
trip south. It was clear that Seal was seriously concerned
about security, which puzzled Terry. "If we're going to have
a meeting with the Agency, why all the added security of a
piggyback?" he asked. "Who are we trying to avoid?" The
other [expletive] Feds," Seal snarled.
At precisely 0400 hours, Terry was holding in the standard
right-hand race track holding pattern on the 090-degree
radial of the Monticello VOR looking for the green-and-red
navigation lights of Seal's Cessna, which should be
approaching from the west at 3500 feet. He was monitoring
the Memphis center frequency on his number one radio,
waiting to hear Seals's voice report to Air Traffic Control
as planned. His number two radio was set to their secret,
or discreet, frequency of 122.97. That would be used for
private air-to-air communication between the two Cessna's
throughout the piggyback maneuver. Aircraft radios are wired
in such a way that the pilot can only listen to one radio at
a time, in order to avoid confusion. But Seal's planes were
custom wired with avionics packages courtesy of
Ultra-Sonics, Inc., of Columbus Ohio, and Homer (Red) Hall,
Seal's avionics expert, thus allowing both radios to be
monitored simultaneously.
At 0402 hours, Terry heard Seal's voice transmitting on the
normal ATC Center frequency.
"Memphis Center, this is twin Cessna November,
six-niner-eight-eight-niner, level at three thousand five
hundred, trackin' on the two-six-five degree radial of the
Monticello VOR. showin' twenty DME, squawking twelve
hundred."
Seal's position report to the center included a precise
location in mileage from the ground navigation fix, which
was the twenty DME to which Seal had referred. The 1200 code
was a frequency set into Seal's transponder, indicating,
that the aircraft was on a visual flight plan. Aircraft on a
visual flight plan need not communicate with the center. But
Seal had established radio contact for identification
purposes and to create a record of entering and leaving the
center's airspace. What the center would not be aware of,
was that while Seal's plane was under their control, another
plane would take its place. The plane initially "handled" by
the center would depart undetected and the rendezvousing
aircraft, or Terry's, would proceed on Seal's original
flight plan. One plane takes another's place, but no one
other than the two pilots is the wiser.
"Roger, twin Cessna eight-eight-niner. What can I do for
you?" the ground controller responded.
Center, how do you read my transponder?" "I am painting you
eighteen DME from the fix, ground speed one-four-zero knots,
squawking one-two-zero-zero, level three thousand five
hundred feet. What else can I do for you twin Cessna
eight-eight-niner?"
"Oh, nuthin'. Its just that my transponder light appears to
be intermittent, and I was wondering if y'all were painting
me okay."
The light Seal referred to was an indicator on his
transponder that lights up each time the center bounces a
radar beam off of the airplane. This is referred to as
having your transponder "interrogated". There was nothing
wrong with Seal's transponder; he was simply establishing
radio contact with the center in order to establish record
of his arrival and departure from their "window" of
controlled air space.
"Everything looks fine here sir, but would you like a
transponder check?" ATC replied.
"Yeah, that'd be great."
"Roger, twin Cessna eight-eight-niner, squawk ident."
At which point Seal pushed the ident button on his
transponder causing his radar blip to "blossom" or enlarge,
on the controller's radar scope. This enabled the
controller to distinguish it from other aircraft on his
screen.
At the same time, Seal also switched his transponder from
the altitude reporting mode-mode C, as it is called. ATC
would no longer be able to determine the plane's altitude.
Terry , of course, had been silently monitoring this radio
transmission between Seal and the ATC and had used Seal's
position reporting to locate the approaching aircraft
visually from its navigation lights. Terry's plane had no
lights on and was at a minimum terrain clearance altitude
below the surveillance envelope of the center's radar. The
center was totally unaware of Terry's presence.
He had been maneuvering his plane to intercept Seal's flight
path. This had been accomplished easily because Seal ran
his engines a 55% of their maximum power, and Terry had used
this time to assure himself visually that that Seal had not
been followed. If this had been the case, he would have
altered Seal on their discreet frequency and the mission
would have been aborted.
"I'm below you and almost in position, your tail is clear.
Stand by for a hack," Terry told Seal on the discreet
frequency while Barry was faking the test of his
transponder.
"Twin Cessna eight-eight-niner this is center. Sir, your
ident looks fine, but I've now lost your mode C. It does
appear you have an intermittent problem of some sort," ATC
said.
"Roger center, I'm dual-transponder-equipped, and when I get
time in a minute, I'll switch over and we'll see what she
does."
"Roger twin Cessna, whenever your ready."
By disabling the plane's altitude reporting capability,
Seal's transponder would now no longer tell ATC his true
altitude. This would be important, because Terry's plane
would soon make an abrupt climb to Seal's altitude, and once
Terry was directly, behind him, Seal would turn his
transponder completely off and dive his plane for the deck.
His electronically enhanced radar blip would completely
disappear from the scope.
At precisely the same moment, Terry would switch on his
transponder and squawk an ident mode. Terry's larger radar
return that would suddenly appear on the center's screen
would mask any secondary return generated from Seal's plane
during his diving maneuver away from Terry.
Terry was now in place below and behind Seal and gaining air
speed as the distance between the two plane decreased.
"Thirty seconds to hack," Terry said to Seal. Then "twenty."
Then "ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two,
one, hack."
Seal had now synchronized his clock with Terry's, and he
knew that he now had exactly one minute until Terry' plane
would be in position directly behind and slightly below him.
Without causing a midair collision, it would be Terry's job
in this dangerous maneuver to get his airplane close enough
to Seal's in order to "count the rivets", as Seal had taught
him. It required the same flight precision demanded of
aerial stunt teams, and each pilot was entrusting his life
to the other.
It would be up to Seal then to execute a right-wing over, or
half of a split-S course reversal maneuver taught to fighter
pilots to dive in on unsuspecting targets below. This would
separate the two aircrafts as quickly as possible.
Seal and Terry's eyes were both locked on their cockpit
clocks as the second hands approached 12. At ten seconds
till, Terry began the count down, "ten, nine, eight, seven,
six, five, four, three, two, one, execute." At precisely
that second, Terry switched on his transponder, which had
been off, pushed the ident button and turned on his mode C,
or altitude reporting capability.
Seal switched his transponder completely off and at the same
time turned his plane beyond 90 degrees of bank angle and
dove for the surface in the reverse direction.
If all had gone well, the controller on the ground would
never seen more than one radar blip. For all he knew, he
had only assisted one airplane with a transponder problem.
"Twin Cessna eight-eight-niner, this is center. I'm
painting you now at 10 miles east of the fix, tracking
outbound on the zero-niner-zero degree radial, squawking
ident, and your mode C is now operational, showing you at
three thousand five hundred feet. It appears that this
transponder is a good one."
Seal, not Terry, now replied to ATC so the controller heard
the same voice.
"Roger center, thanks for the assistance, I'll be seeing
ya."
"Good day sir, and have a nice flight"
The switch had been flawless.
Seal continued to fly at low altitude to Dallas's Love Field
below radar detection. There he landed and waited for Terry
as they had earlier agreed. Terry continued flying on to
Seal's original VFR flight-planned destination, Greenville,
Mississippi, airport, pretending to be Seal.
Once on the ground and sure that no one was following him,
or even more important, that no one was waiting for him,
Terry flew back to Little Rock and landed at Adams Field. It
had already been a long morning and the sun was beginning to
rise as Terry boarded a Southwest Airlines flight at 6 A.M.
for Dallas's Love Field. There he took the shuttle bus to
the general aviation side of the field and rendezvoused with
Barry.
Their plan was to be in the air at 0800 hours in Seal's Lear
jet, N13SN, heading south.
All went flawlessly, and as Terry's buss pulled into the
general aviation parking lot on the north side of Love
Field, he could see Barry overseeing the refueling of the
Lear. The twin Cessna he had flown in to Love was tied down
on the transit parking ramp. Terry hoped all this
hocus-pocus of the piggyback flight had been worth it. He
knew Seal was security conscious, but it was still amazing
the lengths he would go to ensure there was no tail. It was
7:30 A.M.
The Lear's engines spooled, and it started its takeoff roll
at exactly 0800 hours, as planned. As the air speed rose to
125 knots indicated, Terry rotated the aircraft as Seal in
the right seat called out "V-1, check, cross-check, positive
rate, gear up, turn and burn."
Terry banked the plane to the south as Seal briefed him on
their planned 400-mile trip to Brownsville Texas, where they
would take on fuel and file a phony flight plan to Campeche,
Mexico, a city on the western side of the Yucatan peninsula.
Seal told him they would file all the flight plan's in Emile
Camp's name and in his honor, since Barry had Emile's
pilot's license and voter registration card from Slidell,
Louisiana.
"Here's your huntin' license. You file the flight plan in
Emile's name once we get to Brownsville, and then we'll
cancel once we're in the air over Mexico."
"Oh, we're not going to Campeche?"
"No. We'll be flying direct to Illopango (in El Salvador)
for fuel and then on to Howard Air Force Base in Panama."
Terry was excited.
Terry knew that Mexican customs would not be a problem.
Jets entering Mexican air space do not have to clear at the
port of entry, which in this case would have been Matamoros.
Had they been flying a propeller-driven plane, they would
not have been able to penetrate Mexican air space as they
crossed the Rio Grande coming out of Brownsville and just
"keep on trucking" as Seal had said. Flying jets certainly
had its advantages. Terry knew that would not need Emile's
identification unless an emergency forced them to land in
Mexico, since there would be no identification inspection by
the Mexican Federales prior to leaving the U.S. He could
tell that Seal was an expert at exploiting the world of
regulations and had done this many times before. He
wondered if there was any loophole in the rules that Barry
wasn't aware of.
"Keep this thing below 18,000 feet and we won't even file
this leg," Seal said as they departed Dallas air space.
All clever choices, Terry thought. By staying below 18,000
feet there would be no legal requirement to file a flight
plan to Brownsville. The only punishment for not climbing
to a higher altitude would be that the Lear's model CJ610-2
GE engines would suck fuel like crazy at this lower
altitude.
"Don't worry about the fuel burn," Seal said. "This trip is
on Uncle Sam.
After the brief hour trip to Brownsville, Terry (now Emile
Camp) went inside the general aviation terminal to check
weather and to file their phony flight plan to Campeche. He
felt a little uneasy using a dead man's pilot's license
number. But as Seal had joked earlier, where he's flying,
they don't need licenses."
...The white Lear was airborne and heading south at 10 A.M.
with "Emile Camp at the controls and Barry Seal on the
radio. Once on their flight plan and in Mexican air space,
and at a cruising altitude of 35,000 feet, Seal went to the
rear of the aircraft, grabbed two pilot map cases and
dragged them to the front. These were the same type of cases
that Terry had seen earlier in Seal's Aero Commander that
blew the engine in Texarkana. Inside were custom aluminum
boxes containing sophisticated electronics, some of which
Terry recognized.
"GNS-500s. Damn, those things used to cost a half million
apiece, and you've got two?"
Nothin' but the best when your workin' for Uncle" Seal
quipped. "And these ain't your normal 500's. They're
modified to do 'special' things. With these babies, we can
not only pinpoint our position via satellite within about
ten meters, we can find the window to the Bermuda Triangle.
That takes accuracy, son."
GNS-500s are navigational radios that continuously read the
aircraft's position in latitude and longitude via digital
readouts. Coupled with their ability to store and process
complex flight plans, to denote wind speeds at various
altitudes, and to determine ground tracks, they would give
the jet the ability to fly without making contract with
ground controllers. Earlier in his aviation training, Terry
had attended an advanced aviation training class in St.
Louis, which taught the operation of this system, but he
never thought that he would see two of them, worth more than
$1 million, in the same portable box. This was the same
type of sophisticated navigation system aboard the Korean
747 airliner, Flight 007, shot down by a soviet MIG in
September of 1983. That aircraft only had one GPS (Global
Positioning System). Seal had two to guarantee pinpoint
navigation accuracy.
Under the control panel on the co-pilot's side, Red Hall had
installed a secret power bus that Seal accessed with a
jumper cable to power the GNS 500s. With another jack, Seal
connected the antennas, hidden within the fuselage of the
plane, to the radios in the box, making everything
operational.
Terry sat in awe as he watched while Seal removed a piece of
paper from his Shirt pocket and punched in the coordinates
of the entire flight plan.
"Okay, I'll just hook up the ground and satellite
communications equipment in this other box, and it'll be
time for us to 'disappear'," Seal chuckled.
As he opened the second box, Terry saw an array of
electronics and radios with ultrahigh radio frequency ranges
totally foreign to him. On a sticker in the middle of the
control panel was a service note saying, "Direct all service
queries to Summit Aviation, Middleton, Delaware."
Once power was supplied to these radios, Seal pulled a
microphone from the box smiled at Terry and said, "Now
you're gonna know what its like to fly into the Bermuda
Triangle and just [expletive] disappear."
What seal was preparing to do was to "blind" a Department of
Defense satellite designed as a sentry to give advance
warning of incoming hostile weapons systems. This would
provide a window through which the Lear could fly through
undetected. At the same time, Seal said, secret military
surveillance tracking stations manned by U.S. Army
intelligence personnel would emit large bursts of energy to
jam the U.S. and Mexican ATC radar.
Terry felt he was seeing the results of all the Star Wars
countermeasures technology. This, he now realized, was how
Seal's Operation Jade Bridge aircraft, code named Dodger,
had been able to enter and leave the United States without
being detected. If there had ever been a doubt in Terry's
mind about who Barry Seal was, and how high he was
connected, it had been put to rest forever. Seal got his
flight plan authorizations not from someone on the ground,
like most pilots, but from satellites out in space.
You get ready to switch transponders to standby. I'll call
our guys in Cuba on a secure frequency.," Seal said to
Terry.
"Sea Spray, this is Lear one-three- Sierra November, thirty
seconds from the window. How do you read?"
"Loud and clear, Lear," cam e the voice from the ground.
"We've been expecting you. We're showing you being handled
by Mexico City Center, squawking zero-seven-four-two, level
flight level three-five-zero (35,000)." "That's a roger.
Give me a hack for the trip on the dark side. We're ready
to go."
"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one,
hack."
Seal had zeroed the LED clock on the dashboard of the Lear
and pressed the "on" button as the controller called "Hack".
He turned to Terry, "When that clock reads thirty, switch
both transponders to standby, hit the speedbrakes and let's
dive this bitch to the deck. Use your emergency
decompression checklist."
Seal immediately went to the Mexico Center frequency,
"Mexico City, this is Lear one-three-Sierra November
requesting hand-off to Campeche approach ." The Mexican ATC
authorized Seal to leave his frequency and go to Campeche's,
thus terminating Mexico City's service.
Thirty seconds later, the ground controller announced, "Your
portal time is sixteen forty-five zulu. You're black."
Terry saw that the transponder "interrogation" light was no
longer working." As the Lear buffeted with its speed brakes
extended and its altimeter indicating 20,000-feet-per-minute
descent, Seal got on the radio to Campeche approach and
said, "Campeche approach, we are Lear one-three-Sierra
November. Cancel our flight plan to your destination. We
are goin' somewhere else."
At this point, they no longer existed as Lear 13SN heading
for Campeche from Brownsville. Now they were
self-navigating, under no one's ground control. They would
now swing out of Mexican and Cuban air space by
circumventing the Yucatan Peninsula and would establish a
course of 230 degrees to Illopango, El Salvador.
Terry leveled the plane out at 10,000 feet and started
reviewing the approach charts to Illopango, now about 600
miles away. The fuel burn at low altitude was horrible, but
Seal didn't care, as he had factored in the tail wind
component supplied him by the GNS-500s.
Now they were flying "on the dark side," mused Terry, and he
asked Seal about the term. It had a science fiction
connotation....
COMPROMISED: Clinton, Bush and the CIA
By Terry Reed and John Cummings
Clandestine Publishing
Penmarin Books
ISBN 1-883955-02-5
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----
Maranatha!
John Walley
john@cwinet.org
http://www.cwinet.org
http://www.revival.net
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