Master Basil walked tentatively into the office. He seated himself in the comfortable leather chair across from his father.
At this stage in his life, Basil's features were youthful, his lips thin and tightly drawn, with light brown hair combed straight back, and deep-set eyes that looked everywhere except at his father. “What did you want to discuss, Father?”
“Well,” Lord George hesitated, “I have an engagement coming up. I will be traveling for a few days.”
“Okay,” Basil replied. “Is there anything else?”
Lord George frowned. He hesitated and then began speaking. “Son, you are now seventeen years old. And although I have previously made suggestions about your future, it is now time that you know what your future will be.”
“Yes?” Master Basil thought to himself, this idiot doesn’t know what he’s talking about!
“Master Basil,” George continued. “You will become Lord Basil. You, my son, will inherit my position and become the leader of the western world.”
Basil unconsciously became erect in his chair, holding his head in a regal fashion. And then Basil slumped, shaking his head. “But Father – there is The Queen, the United Nations, the United States, the European countries.”
Lord George smiled. “Ah, my young Basil. There is time enough to explain all of this. In the meantime, you must prepare – prepare yourself to take over my position.”
Silence formed in the room, even as son and father looked into each other’s eyes. Basil felt hate toward his father. Hatred at his finely combed hair, his impeccable dress, his correct manner, his detachment. If only I could meet his expectations – maybe he would give me the attention I need – that I deserve!
Lord George continued. “There will be education – Oxford, Harvard. And there will be education in our family heritage, and in things known particularly to our family. And there will be time enough to learn the world, and to know the world stage and the players on that stage. And of course, there will be time enough for you to create and grow your family, as a part of the family heritage.”
Basil turned his head away, looking at the bookcases to his left. “Is that all, Father?” Basil’s voice was flat – detached.
“Don’t you want to hear more?” Lord George asked hopefully.
“Hmmm ... not now, Father.” Basil looked down and away from his father, looking around the room.
Basil’s appearance was sometimes deceiving – he was almost full grown and he carried himself as a regal gentleman. It was easy for George to believe that Basil was emotionally an adult. And yet Lord George sometimes needed to be reminded that Basil was seventeen years old – still very much a child.
This was one of those times.
* * *
Master Basil walked out of his father's office with decidedly mixed feelings. I wish he would love me, he thought. But he doesn't want to love me. All he wants is for me to follow in his footsteps. And then Basil's features hardened. I guess he's not going to tell me about my mother. Liar! I'm better than him – and I'm going to do what I want! And Jessica. If Jessica's not my mother, then why should I care! I hate her!
That same evening, Basil was confused as he roamed the corridors, seemingly at random. Where am I going? But soon, he found himself at the entrance to Lady Jessica's bedroom chambers. Damn, he thought. Why did I come here? All those times she used me. God how I hate her!
The door was closed. But why should I care? Basil thought. Without knocking, he turned the knob and pushed on the door. He walked in on her, slamming the door behind him.
Jessica was stretched out on the bed, reading a book and sipping from a glass of wine. She looked up at him. Her voice quivered with surprise. “Oh, Basil darling. You should have knocked.”
Without saying a word, Basil approached the bed. He stood, perusing her form through her low-cut nightgown. Her hips, her breasts; she was full, but still quite desirable.
“What do you want?” She asked, demurely.
“You.”
“Me?” She laughed. “I don't feel like it, dear. I have a headache.” then she giggled as she looked into his eyes. “You're nothing but a boy! Why don't you go screw the maid?”
Basil's face, his eyes, hardened. He grabbed Jessica's gown by the cleavage and pulled; the gown tore and so he pulled some more. And as he pulled, Jessica's face took on a look of surprise, even shock. She flailed her hands, shouting, “Don't do that! Stop that!”
But Basil manhandled her gown; stripping it from her body and revealing her naked flesh. She tried to cover herself in sheets, but Basil yanked them off of her too, leaving her exposed, and shivering. “What – what! What do you want?” She stammered.
Basil dropped his trousers. “You. I want you.” His lips were drawn tight, his eyes hard as steel. “Roll over.”
She remained on the bed, shivering but not moving.
Basil grabbed her throat and choked. “Turn over, bitch – or I'll squeeze!” She moved, rolling over as he grabbed her hair to keep her on the bed. “On your knees.” She followed his direction.
He moved up behind her, using his knees to spread her legs.
“Don't take me. It’ll hurt!” She cried.
He pulled her hair. “Shut up,” he growled.
Basil spat into his hand and lubricated. “Take this,” he hissed, thrusting against her. “Ohhhh!” Jessica screamed. “You bastard!”
He said nothing, but his mouth crooked up in a smirk.
Basil pulled on her hair as though he held the mange of a horse. She whimpered as he thrust; all the while she moistened, more and more. Basil's grip on her hair served to pull her head high, even as she opened up. She was moist, even wet.
He continued; but as he did, she began ramming herself backward, meeting him. “C'mon, damn it!” She shouted. “Give it to me you little shit!”
He let go of her hair and thrust harder; too absorbed in his anger to notice her red-flushed skin. He just wanted to hurt her – and yet she craved still more.
Their anger grew more intense, feeding off each other, until he shuddered in release.
She shivered too, for her release came in the same moment.
Chapter 5 – Circa 1963
EXECUTIVE ORDER 11110
AMENDMENT OF EXECUTIVE ORDER NO. 10289 AS AMENDED, RELATING TO THE PERFORMANCE OF CERTAIN FUNCTIONS AFFECTING THE DEPARTMENT OF THE TREASURY. By virtue of the authority vested in me by section 301 of title 3 of the United States Code, it is ordered as follows:
SECTION 1. Executive Order No. 10289 of September 19, 1951, as amended, is hereby further amended - (a) By adding at the end of paragraph 1 thereof the following subparagraph (j): “(j) The authority vested in the President by paragraph (b) of section 43 of the Act of May 12, 1933, as amended (31 U.S.C. 821 (b)), to issue silver certificates against any silver bullion, silver, or standard silver dollars in the Treasury not then held for redemption of any outstanding silver certificates, to prescribe the denominations of such silver certificates, and to coin standard silver dollars and subsidiary silver currency for their redemption,” and (b) By revoking subparagraphs (b) and (c) of paragraph 2 thereof.
SECTION 2. The amendment made by this Order shall not affect any act done, or any right accruing or accrued or any suit or proceeding had or commenced in any civil or criminal cause prior to the date of this Order but all such liabilities shall continue and may be enforced as if said amendments had not been made.
JOHN F. KENNEDY THE WHITE HOUSE, June 4, 1963
* * * * *
Lord George's office had many leather chairs; all of them comfortable. Basil was ensconced in just such a chair when his father walked in. Basil greeted his father – tentatively, diffidently. “Hello, Father.”
“Hello, Basil. I’ll bet you are wondering why I called you here today.”
“Yes, Father. Would you please enlighten me? I've heard the telephone ringing incessantly – cars and helicopters coming and going, and men running in and out of your office.”<
br />
George’s face turned grim. “I have been talking with some of our highest level consultants ... We seem to have a problem, Basil. One of our important surrogates is no longer on board with our program.”
“Huh? What does that mean?”
Lord George glanced at Basil as he walked toward his desk. “President Kennedy is no longer with us. He is no longer following our orders.”
“But Father, what do you mean about President Kennedy? What has he got to do with anything?”
Lord George looked grimly at Basil. “Do you remember when we talked about our heritage, Basil?”
“Yes, but –”
“Well, Kennedy is a surrogate of ours – a very important surrogate. You see, the United States – and especially the Federal Reserve – is an important piece of our empire. When they do not follow our orders, they put our plans of greater empire at risk.”
“Empire? But – but can you tell me more about this?” Basil was confused.
“Soon, Basil. My associates will arrive momentarily, and I will explain it to everyone at the same time.”
Just at that moment, the butler escorted several men into the office. They were each dressed in a suit – tailored, groomed, and expensive.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” Lord George held out his hand. “Please, all of you take a seat.” He looked up at Swenson and said, “Please bring hors-d'oeuvre and refreshments for these gentlemen.”
Swenson nodded. “As you wish, sir.”
Lord George turned in his chair, sweeping the room with his eyes as he began talking. “Without delay, gentlemen. I called you here because we have a serious problem. In short, President Kennedy is no longer following our orders. He has stepped outside of our control.”
George paused and then continued. “Of course, all of you know about Kennedy’s executive order – the order that gives authority for the government to print silver certificates based on silver that is held by the U.S. Government.” George paused and grimaced. “Well gentlemen, the U.S. Treasury has proceeded with the printing of silver certificates based on their silver holdings!”
While his audience listened intently, Lord George’s eyes continued sweeping the room.
“The problem, of course, is that these silver certificates compete with our federal reserve notes. And worse – WORSE!” George’s face turned crimson as he paused. “As Americans use silver certificates to pay for their purchases, we lose leverage over the U.S. economy!”
Basil was confused – he did not understand all of this. But he heard gasps and murmurings from the men in the room. He watched as the men glanced at each other, obviously upset.
Lord George continued. “It’s clear that if this were to continue, it would put our plan back many years.”
The murmuring in the room increased in intensity.
“But also,” the room silenced as Lord George continued, “We have just recently received word from inside sources that Kennedy has ordered a U.S. withdrawal from Vietnam to commence soon, and take place over a two-year period.”
Again, the murmuring in the room increased in intensity. Some of the men began talking amongst themselves. Master Basil continued to watch; but he did not yet understand the problem.
Lord George began speaking again over the din of voices. “As you all know, war is important to us – it allows us to expand our wealth and influence. And it is important that we keep the U.S. engaged in this war – and even escalate it.”
George scanned the room, speaking forcefully. “With any luck, we should be able to keep the U.S. in Vietnam for another ten years. Easily enough to fill our coffers, buy off more of the U.S. and world financial system, and continue to expand our control!”
George continued scanning as the men were talking. Soon, his associates stopped talking as one of the men spoke out. “So, My Lord. What do you propose?”
“Gentlemen. I see no alternative but to eliminate Kennedy and install Johnson as the President. After all, he has been in our pocket for these many years, and we can count on him to carry on our program. He will stop this nonsense with the silver, and he’ll push the U.S. further into Vietnam.”
The room became still.
George continued. “We shall allow no one to get in our way!”
The men stood up and began eating on the hors-d'oeuvre and refreshments. Master Basil listened as the men talked amongst each other.
“ . . . so what's the weather doing tomorrow? More overcast? . . .”
“ . . . how's your daughter? Is she in college yet? . . .”
* * *
Document 100.1.3.2.0 31 of 39...
“The high office of the President has been used to foment a plot to destroy the Americans freedom and before I leave office I must inform the Citizen of his plight.” -PRESIDENT JOHN F. KENNEDY (10 days before he was murdered)
* * *
Transcripts Show Senators Knew Gulf Of Tonkin Was A Staged False Flag Event
Senators hid details from Americans for fear of reprisals from power brokers that run the media and the presidency
International News; Friday, July 16th, 2010
More than 1,100 pages of previously classified Vietnam-era transcripts were released this week by the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. According to the transcripts, several Senators knew of the deception by the White House and Pentagon about the 1964 Gulf of Tonkin incident.
Thirty years would pass before the truth would emerge – that the Aug. 4, 1964 Gulf of Tonkin incident, whereby North Vietnamese PT boats allegedly attacked US warships, was a staged event that never took place. The Gulf of Tonkin ‘non-incident’ is widely acknowledged as the event that brought the US into the Vietnam conflict, resulting in the deaths of more than 50,000 Americans and many thousands of Vietnamese.
* * * * *
Basil stepped into The Manor, with Swenson carrying his suitcase behind him. He stopped and looked around; taking in the expansiveness and architecture of the foyer. He smiled. God! I'm so glad to be back home, he thought.
Just then, Lady Jessica came out to the foyer. “My dear Basil. How I've missed you!” She came up and gave Basil an arms-length hug. They kissed each other on the cheek.
“Mother,” he replied. “I have so missed you. Are you doing well?”
“Yes,” she cooed. “Life here has been grand!” She moved to touch her cheek to his. “I'd love if we could get together tonight,” she whispered.
Basil slowly pulled his cheek from hers. He looked at her and smiled. “Sure,” he whispered.
With Swenson dutifully behind, Basil began walking in the direction of his suite.
“Master Basil,” Swenson offered, “your father wishes to see you at your earliest convenience.”
“Thank you, Swenson,” Basil replied with a smile. “It shall be my pleasure.”
* * *
“Hello, Father,” Basil said as he extended his hand.
“My son. I am so glad to see you.” They shook hands.
“How have you been?”
“I am doing well, Basil,” George smiled at his son. “Please, sit down. I was hoping we could discuss some, ah – arrangements.”
Basil seated himself and began speaking. “Before we begin, I have a question.”
George's eyebrows raised. “Yes?”
Basil's lips tightened. “Why did you not tell me that Lady Diana is my mother? Why did you lie to me all these years?”
George leaned back and looked across the desk at Basil. “Because, my son, we did not want to hurt you.”
“But, Father. You hurt me by not telling me.”
“Well. I'm sorry Basil. I should have told you long ago.” George paused and then continued “How did you find out?”
“I just knew,” Basil replied. And then he continued. “But why have Diana as my mother? Isn't that incest? Isn't there increased risks for abnormalities and disease?”
“Well, yes. There is greater risk; although we have some technology to help with that.”
“But with your cousin? Why, oh why?” Basil pleaded.
“Because,” George paused. “Because, son. As you know, we have a very large empire. And to run our empire, and to foster loyalty within our empire, we place a higher value on blood relationships.” George paused to let his words sink in. “The fact that Diana is your mother, means that we keep our lineage entirely within our family. And with no outsiders, there is far less chance of betrayal.”
“But,” Basil hesitated and then continued. “But, what does that mean for me?”
“Oh, that's very simple.” George paused and then continued. “To foster your heir to the empire, you must mate with one of your cousins. Kathleen, I think, is probably your best choice.”
“But I don't even like Kathleen.”
“No matter. It's just for procreation. She'll understand; and she'll willingly do it. After all, it is in the best interests of the family and the empire.”
“Do I have to marry her?”
“Certainly not. You may marry whomever you choose. You merely adopt your offspring from Kathleen – or whomever you choose to have your child with.”
“You see,” George continued with a smile, “you are heir to a very large empire. An empire that encompasses media, banking, energy, minerals, land...” George stood up and looked out the window. “Hell, Basil, we own all of the mainstream media and most of the world's governments.” George paused. “We control the world through our ability to create money. With money, we buy influence, politicians, corporations, and control – all purchased through proxies, of course.”
“Of course,” Basil chimed in.
“So,” George turned and looked at Basil. “Do you have any questions?”
“Yes, Father. Absolutely. I have so many questions I don't even know what they are!”
George smiled and nodded his understanding. “I know. I was once in the same place you are now.” George paused. “I was quite overwhelmed.”
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