Henry literally built me so I could be a safe arm to reach out and touch the Council. I flew to New York regularly in the 70's and 80's. Just a quick trip to deliver the information to Henry. He had various and sundry disguises for me that he used to protect himself. A man in a suit always picked me up at the airport in a limo and gave me a bag. I knew to go to the restroom and change into everything in the bag, which included clothes, shoes, wig, teeth overlays, make up, purse, everything I needed was there. Craig had made me several sets of maxillary and mandibular overlays that I could just snap onto my teeth. I looked totally different and the switch was to be total and complete when I looked at my image in the mirror. "Become the image," Henry told me. So I changed my face, my voice, my walk; everything I was told to alter, in order to fit the image. I took the bag filled with my clothes back to the man in the limo and he put it in the front seat next to him and escorted me into the backseat. After I switched personalities and dress, he closed the glass window between the seats and never had conversation with me from that time on. He let me out at Henry's office, which was a large, older, very cultured building and someone escorted me right to Henry's office.

I sat down in an upholstered chair across from Henry's dark wooden desk. He snapped his fingers and ran his hand before my face to ready me for debriefing. I told him what the Council advised and the final message was the Chess move. He was very anxious to get that and always had me double-check the information so there wouldn't be any miscommunication. I was programmed that it wasn't possible for me to ever make a mistake.

After I delivered the information to Henry, he walked me to the door and gave me a small piece of folded paper to give the driver. I think it may have had my airline instructions on it or something. For some reason I never flew with a round trip ticket, and always had the return flight booked under a different name than the one I used on the initial leg of the trip. The driver gave me the special bag that now had all my original clothes in it, and I would go back into the public restroom and change. Then he took me back to the airport in New York and I'd fly to LAX. Usually my Mom or Craig would pick me up. It was a long trip but didn't seem like it because I was programmed to sleep. They were always proud that the precision was so good that I could be back within 24 hours or less. Somehow they 'folded' that amount of time and I never missed it. My assignments often began or culminated on Friday or Saturday night but usually I was home by Saturday. These meetings with Henry usually took place at the end of the work week. He liked to have the information delivered to him at that time because he would have the weekend to mull it over, undisturbed and uninterrupted by any other business. He said, "That's the secret to my success-FOCUS," then he would smile and take a cigar out of a case on the table. He also had a separate apartment away from home where he did his best thinking and strategizing. I met with him there, also, but always had to do the disguise routine before I met him anywhere.

When I returned home I was programmed to have cheese Danish to 're-mind' me to forget. Even when I was having therapy sessions with Stuart Perlman, I was programmed to have cheese Danish on the mornings I had therapy sessions with Stuart by phone. I was also cleverly programmed to misdial Stuart's phone number by one number. Every time I dialed his number I would get frustrated and wonder why I kept dialing the wrong number, and every time it was the same wrong number I dialed. My controllers had me dialing a number that contained a code to remind me to maintain security. During this period, I often met with Henry or others, so the Danish was the 'icing on the cake, and served to make sure I didn't ever remember. I was still meeting with Henry when I was in therapy with both Stuart and Margie. My controllers told me they were trying to shore me up so I would make it to the end of my job in the year 2000.

My job was to be over in the year 2000, and programmed parts of me were told that I was to be shot in the head and dropped overboard out in the middle of the Pacific where no one would ever miss me, including the sharks. In order to impress me, they made me watch shark-feeding frenzies. One time after Craig and I returned from a long weekend sail and scuba diving trip, another dentist friend of ours came over and said, "You weren't scuba diving in the Channel Islands this weekend, were you? They were having shark contests and were chumming the whole area!"

Shark themes were used heavily, and I was continually reminded by the Shark diver's wristwatch that I was given to wear.

My job as a go-between from the Council to others was my most important task. Bob was 'my owner' and Henry masterminded their plan, but the Council always called the ultimate shots. They said I was theirs until, "the end of time," and that time for me was supposed to be the year 2000. Then they said I could sleep with the fishes. Deep inside I couldn't wait until it was over.

Although the Council didn't ever meet on the same yachts, when they did meet, there often was an aquarium on board with sharks in it that was used to remind me what would happen if I stepped out of line. Craig and I had previously been directed to the big theatre with the stars on the ceiling on Catalina Island to watch James Bond movies. I constantly gazed upward at those stars per programmed instructions to, "look at the stars to be safe and forget."

I also was made to watch while a man in a suit threw an attendant into the shark aquarium when it was feeding time. He said to the man, "You wouldn't mind standing in for the fish this morning so this young lady can see what her fate is if she steps out of line?" The attendant looked at him quizzically and then the suited man threw him into the tank and quickly poured a pan of fish and blood all over the poor man in the water. The sharks went right for him. He screamed and flailed his arms but it didn't last long.

It was horrific and terrifying. The suited man looked me in the eye, and in a very quiet, soothing tone of voice said, "There, see what happens if you step out of line?"

"Yes, I see," I agreed, wholeheartedly.

This type of life and death terror tactic is enough to dissociate a person for a very long time, especially if they are under mind control. This shark theme ran throughout my victimization. After my children were born, we were at a theme park and all donned wet suits to swim with the fish; some were even small sharks. Danny and Kevin were even given small rubber sharks in order to remember the experience. The message was always the same, "Step out of line, you will be fed to the sharks." By now they probably only need to use virtual reality traumas.

I was relocated on Kauai because it was a remote area with easier access to me, unencumbered by my family. It was a two-year phase. Then they didn't have to coordinate things so carefully between us all. I was free to go on their assignments and I was used heavily. They flew me to New York, England, South of France, Italy (Rome), the Netherlands, even Catalina and the Channel Islands, except now I was helicoptered to the yachts and tethered in on a chair. Often it was a two-seater helicopter, the 'glass bubble' type. The helicopter pilot seemed connected to the yacht as they radioed to coordinate the rendezvous with precision. When I lived on Kauai I was taken directly from the meetings of the Council to Henry, going through the whole disguise bit, and then returned to the island. I was usually gone two days (48 hours) or less, and when I returned I slept a lot because I had been without sleep or food and the time difference caused jet lag. Although, they tried everything to nullify the jet lag so I could, as they called it, "re-emerge into my life without stress or strain."