My instructions after I left Charles were to go to a room down on another floor and let myself in with a key I would find in my pocket. Once in the room, I picked up the phone and dialed a number and began telling all the details of our conversation and time together. For all I know, I may have been talking to a tape recorder on the other end. Without making any other conversation, I finished my debrief and hung up. Then I went down to the lobby. The hotel was very elegant, with waterfalls, wood, glass, and brass decorating the lobby. I do not know the name or where I actually was.

Charles' repeated disclosure of the vital importance of his relationship with Di remaining stable for the good of his country was the information Kissinger and the Rockefellers needed to form their strategy. I believe that now armed with this information, they had the perfect way to destabilize England, through destabilizing the royal couple's relationship. So they did just that and began devising a plan to destroy Di and Charles' relationship from the inside out. Over time, little seeds of doubt were planted, originating from Kissinger's and the Rockefeller's strategic plan, at times delivered through me, about the royal couple's relationship and about Di to Charles and about Charles to Di, and they may have worked them both from other angles. I know that they had me give certain messages that were meant to be a wedge between the two. They were always subtle, never aimed directly at them, but the inferences were there.

For example, I was sent in to talk to Di. They had me befriend her by giving me information about her that I could 'drop' at a time when we were alone. I did and she opened up and began crying, which is just exactly what they wanted her to do. Then I talked to her and helped her feel better. They wanted a bond to be set in place for later use so they could get inside information about England. Even more they wanted to know how they could "get to Charles" in order to influence him without him knowing. I was with them several times and each time spent time alone with Di talking about her difficulties. She seemed starved to talk to someone who understood and I had been armed with enough information to be that understanding person. Our controllers wanted the familiarity to 'breed' in each succeeding visit so they could have more and more of a doorway in to influence the royals. I overheard our controllers arguing about using me with her again. They said, "We can't risk having her become a familiar face." To which another man reported, "She's a long way from home and so is Di and they will never meet again by accident in a million years. You worry too much. These things always have a way of working themselves out."

So, the other man said, "Okay, okay, we'll use her, but just one more time."

I could relate to Di. We were both married, had children and shared some common ground, including having husbands that were not sexually passionate and seemed disinterested in that way. They were hoping to be able to keep Di involved because she was so easy to access — as they termed it, "loose-lipped." But that isn't how it worked out. After Di was comfortable with me, I was programmed to disclose that I wished I had a husband who liked to be very sexual with me. All the while my programmers knew from my report of Charles' sexual encounter that he was not a sexually motivated man. Then they could go about directing their media arms to capture and detail any problems that came between the royal couple, even at times creating problems that were not there in the first place — creating suspicions on both sides. It was an ugly strategy, but looking back, it worked. The monarchy was destabilized by this plan.

London, England was cold in the winters and was very cold and dreary. Many of the buildings I was taken into were made out of grey stone, and everything took on a greyish cast. Maybe that was due to the ominous experiences I had while in England. There were a lot of ornate black wrought iron fences around estates; even the parkways and parks often had fences surrounding them. I accompanied Reagan to London many times. I overheard that these were important assignments in facilitating diplomatic relations.

This time Ronald Reagan had on a black overcoat and we were walking across the street to visit an older lady with dark grey hair. She wore a hat and very sturdy shoes and a suit. I think she was the Queen of England, or at least someone of importance. It was not Margaret Thatcher, though. She explained that she could walk around in her country without Secret Service agents but chose wisely the time she went on "outings," she called them. She had a medium size dog that she took when she went on walks. She was very opinionated and very dominating. For some personal reason she didn't like Nancy at all and said that Ron and I made such a handsome twosome that it was a shame that Ron and I weren't a couple. She told him that Nancy made him look older than his years, and that a baby born of Reagan and I would make her happy. She said she felt there was some special chemistry and she wanted it badly. She was convinced that I was Sharon Weatherby and that I had excellent lineage. All this bloodline stuff really meant a lot to her and for whatever reason, I was the target. Maybe the Council influenced her and told her I was someone I wasn't. I don't know.

We gathered to talk in a sitting room with all white wicker furniture. There was a bird in a large ornate metal cage and there were lots of beautiful plants around. I remember how she and everyone around her spoke in English accents. They talked about the PLO and other news of the day, but I couldn't retrieve all the words in order to more completely remember their conversations. She had seen my capabilities; the mind files, the profound statements delivered in public (pre-programmed though they were by the Council), the wit (pre-programmed by the Council) and she felt I had some extraordinary genetic structure and she wanted some of it. She viewed this breeding thing like people think about horse and dog breeding. She was really into it and she had her mind set on having an offspring of mine coupled with Reagan, whom she thought was the perfect father.

There were many meetings where this subject was discussed and eventually she got her wish. The child I bore for her was the result of many meetings of negotiations over the years. The talks started out slowly as she and Reagan took small safe steps toward defining their otherwise preposterous scheme.

The child that was born for the Queen was to be brought up in a strict environment and groomed for later marriage into the royal family. It was a baby that was delivered into the arms of some of her people.

They said this baby was a gift of diplomacy between our countries. Reagan called the baby a peace offering to show the United Kingdom our willingness to extend a hand toward future relations with their country.

When the doctors were ready to deliver my not yet full-term baby, I was taken aboard an airplane. They laid me on a cot-like gurney made of white canvas on a metal frame. There was an IV bottle hanging over my head and I was afraid it was going to swing off its stand as the plane was entering turbulent weather. I couldn't say anything, because I had a mask over my face.

My baby was born in the air, delivered by doctors dressed in surgical gowns and masks. They had utensils and long-shaped stainless steel bowls with alcohol or some type of sterile solution for their utensils. There were no nurses. Just two doctors. The baby was also to be part of some experiment. As I flashbacked, abreacted, and retrieved this memory I felt the uterine contractions and pain, my tailbone hurt and stung because they gave me a spinal injection. I didn't have the baby naturally; I heard the doctors say the word "epidural," but at the time didn't know what that word meant.