Choices, CIA false flags, and FBI entrapment.

Denver, Colorado, 

December 2016

Undercover FBI agent Coy Ebell and I went for a walk on our way to a bar.

Undercover FBI agent of Denver, Coy Ebell

Coy Ebell was about half my age, had served as enlisted in one of the Gulf wars, likely the 2nd one due to his age.  I recall him calling getting sent over there 'going to the Superbowl'.  As we strolled I called him 'sheriff' as I had learned to identify liars, gaslighters, deceivers, and undercover cops.  And Coy was an undercover cop.  At least he was employed by the FBI.  Should I feel honored?  Complex question.  Lengthy answer.

I, by then, knew after living at the upscale Denver Skyline1801 apartment complex on the corner of 18th and Arapahoe for 8 months with my 16 year old son as a single parent that Coy Ebell and several other tenants were in the employ of the FBI as undercover agents and I was their target.

Their goal had been a cover up of that which I had learned in Virginia in 2014 and New York in 2015, that a CIA plot existed and failed to kill Obama, install Biden and blame me.  Just like 1963 with JFK and LBJ.  So sick.

Their goal to complete the coverup was to entrap me, to get me arrested again, to violate my 12 month agreement with the court in Victor, NY, that agreement consisting of two parts, not to get arrested for 12 months, and to get a few weeks of counseling with a counselor of my choosing.  And once in violation I would be sent swiftly to serve a 12 month term for the misdemeanor charge of child endangerment, though more likley to be shanked, shut up forever, than to serve out those 365 days.

I had chosen a counseler working out of his home in Webster, NY, Tom Porpiglia.  He gave a 25% veteran discount.  And he, like I had been an employee of Harris Corporation for a time so we knew some common things, people.

I recall we both laughed when we recalled a bald Harris employee neither of us had liked named Ed Lockwood for his snake like behind your back behavior.

Ed Lockwood was sales director for the Far East while I had been sales director for Latin America and the Carribean for a time from 2003 to 2005 both working at for a division of Harris Corp. at their RF Communications Division military radio factory at 1680 University Avenue in venerable Rochester NY.

I enjoyed some moments with Tom as a result.  Pleasant man.  Ed Lockwood not so much.  ))  Tom is in his 60s I believe and helpful to his clients.  And Ed is off in retirement making someone else's life miserable though maybe that is unfair, don't know.  Never liked Ed much.

Tom was older than I and had served during the Vietnam War, while I had served in the late 80s, my claim to fame of wartime service nil, though we did a cruise in the Persian Gulf in 1989 the year before the first Gulf War, escorting tankers through the Straits of Hormuz.  The thoughts of the Chinese made Silkworm missiles laying in wait on the Iranian side of the strait gave no comfort, so strong their warheads even a near miss, perhaps catastrophic for the aluminum superstructure of the guided missile frigate I had once upon served.

Her name the USS Underwood FFG-36, once awarded in the mid 1980s the Battenburg Cup as the best ship in the Atlantic fleet, now retired and sitting in a Philadelphia shipyard, her days of prowling the open waters on behalf of our elites behind her.

I recall the first 'counseling' session with Tom and believe the cops or the FBI had been there first to brief him about me.  The vibe was that strong.  I had selected him online and already knew from my adventure in Virginia in 2014 being gangstalked by 40 FBI undercover vehicles how easily the feds manipulate the internet access of their targets.  They knew I'd pick Tom.

I still recall the tough looking guy sitting in a utility truck oddly on the street through our first session.  Ah, life under surveillance.

America, well on its way to becoming a police state.

As to Tom, pleasant guy, I told him all about the conspiracy.  He told that in his view conspiracies happen.  We moved forward as he saw no good in me trying to bring to light that which I had experienced, learned, and share with you now in this blog.  The biggest benefit I got from Tom was learning a method of self soothing called 'tapping'.  Google it.  It works.

Back to Coy Ebell and my stroll with this young sheriff, this undercover FBI agent whose task it had been to entrap me.  We talked about this and that, my reconciliation with my Russian exwife, upcoming move to Russia with my then 16 year old son, our respective times in the service, again mine 20 years prior to his.

I understood Coy's FBI team had been sending my son 'research chemicals', synthetic cannabinoids, and sythetic cathinones.  Versions of weed and speed if you like.  Most I flushed down the toilet, but I tried some of these things when they first appeared in the mail to see if my son was still colluding with his mother as he had in New York.  And to see what would happen.  Using self as bait once again.  Dangerous game, for these substances, and lord knows what they really were, as I had no lab and am no scientist, were 'not for human consumption'.

My son had no money, and therefore no ability to pay for these items.

I put in a 30 day mail hold order at the local post office.  It was returned in 3 days with more boxes of things psychoactive.  Crystals and plant materials as I recall.  More toilet flushing.  Flush.  Flush.  Some of those materials had bad reputations and were reportedly addictive, and I was interested in other things, like truth, reconciliation, and maybe seeing grandkids someday.

I was rewarded that November 2016 when I came across the chat between ny son and his Russian FSB trained honeypot trap mother.  It was dark, venomous, full of hatred towards me.  When I asked my son about it the next day he denied it and broke his computer claiming an accident.

So Coy Ebell and I continued our walk and I brought up the topic of the death threat that had resulted in my leaving Russia for the US in October of 2013, getting my son in 14 months time, moving to Denver that April and how much I had enjoyed Denver and would miss this amazing city.

Coy Ebell then made what I find in retrospect the most interesting thing he ever said to me (that is if I am not including his various lies and 'tells' - we can discuss those in depth later).  Coy Ebell began to talk about choices.  How important choices were.  This drew my attention.

And like a locksmith attempting to turn the bits inside a lock with specialized tools, one of those bits fell into place.  Click.

Coy Ebell and those in similar employ who had gangstalked me, had brought Adam Stanhope and MDPV into my life, Mark Brady and MDMA into my life, August Meyer and cocaine into my life, Albina Taptiga and amphetamine sulphate into my life, had given me, in their view, choices.  The choices always mine and therefore the responsibility.

I held my tongue, enjoying our walk, mulling over his words, restraining myself from killing him right then and there.

Where was the responsibility of those entrusted with police powers to use them responsibly?

Police ought not to be setting up folk to take criminal choices.  IMHO.

There is a lot in the online literature about FBI fattening their stats by targeting people perhaps best described as troubled or even idiots to become bombers, terrorists.  A recent article I read made it fairly clear that FBI in our post 9/11 (this 9/11 gambit, a criminal hoax most foul, played on us by our elites, likely with CIA involvement, after all they killed JFK, what wouldn't they do?) world would absolutely be interested in unethically fattening  its' stats, encouraging our weak political class to embrass policies of bigger security budgets, and more mass media fear based propaganda.

Coy Ebell.  FBI.  Drugs, excuse me, 'research chemicals' sent to my 16 year old son in the mail that he could not pay for.  Choices.

Choices indeed.

I had chosen to learn what was going on.  I had chosen to, as in the Robert B. Parker detective novels I had read a lifetime ago, to behave as a post modern Spenser, acting provocatively and see what moved, what reacted.

My reward?  I learned that the CIA had plotted to kill Obama, install Biden and blame me.

And failing that, option 2, push my buttons via gangstalking and psy ops to make me cross the line a la Myron May or Timothy McVeigh, get me jailed and shanked.

Option 3, if not the aforementioned successful, then  perhaps simply murdering me in a shooting on the street by our 'boys in blue' as a sort of 'troubled individual'.

The Stasi had a word for that which they had done to me via my targeting, 'Zersetzung'.  This a German term that roughly translates into the desctruction of the individual.

So these things happened to me.

Russian spy Anna Chapman coming on to me in Moscow in 2008.

American I had met in Russia in the 2000s, Jason Smolek, likely CIA, telling me, unasked, the significance of the date of the mysterious Notre Dame-like roof fire, still unsolved at my home in Russia at Kamennoostrovskiy Prospekt 35 in Saint Petersburg as JFK's birthday on May 29, 2009.

NCIS agent Doug Boyce telling me, in his Virginia Beach home in 2014, unasked, that he had been CIA when we met in Russia in 1999.

Russian Egish Kharchatrian telling me in that summer of 2014, "Rick we will make you into this generation's Lee Harvey Oswald.  We will get you and Obama, too".

Russian Alexander Tregubov adding a poison unknown to a beer he offered me in August 2011 causing me to lose 35 pounds in a month, while smiling gleefully, telling me how easy it was to kill a man.

These were not my choices.

I reflect.  I write.  I hope to share this story with the world in order that these dark folk so correctly identified by Ole Dammegard (Google him and his youtube presentation, 'Terror are You Kidding Me?') reduce, and more hopefully cease this unethical behavior.  The chances slim, I know.  False flag politics a tradition practiced by the elites running my home country (Operation Northwoods, Gulf of Tonkin, 9/11).  As NCIS agent Doug Boyce once told me, 'All people lie, all the time'.  Insightful this.

And so I, having really no choice, go the other way, and speak the truth.  Its easier, perhaps I am lazy, and see no upside in being deceptive.  I took my lessons and then as now usually an A student.