When the crew was on the last nuclear bomb run they thought that they were heading back to Diego Garcia, but exactly 3 minutes and 11 seconds after getting refueled, and exactly 9 minutes and 11 seconds before the bomb drop, the were told Diego had gotten nuked like Bikini atoll. Such time stamps were more than coincidental, something else was entirely was going on.
The pilot had found out from the Electronic Warfare Officer that command was use an AI computer that was anticipating their needs and now it was apparent that this machine was also sending them messages, or timing the messages. But there was more to the story, the Air Force Academy had been taken over by Christian Dominionists who were also Christian Evangelicals who believed in Revelation and end time prophecies. Could they be the ones behind the timing of those messages?
Back in 2007, a B-52 had been hijacked from Minot North Dakota with real nuclear weapons on board, rumor had it that a rogue faction within the Christian Dominionists were working with Dick Cheney to ignite WW3 with a nuclear false flag but the crew got wind of it and diverted into Barksdale before carrying out a false flag. The USAF and Zionist controlled federal government investigated and cover up the incident.
So the pilot was thinking about all this and thought, the boyz in the command bunker must be laughing their asses off, sending coordinates for Megiddo, and references to the 911, 311 false flags intentionally. But then again maybe it was the god computer, which these USAF Evangelicals had programmed to carry out prophecy. Which one was it? Regardless those sons of bitches are goin’ to pay when he got back to Iowa he thought, I am goin’ to drink them under the table.
Little did the American people know that Christian Dominionists had infiltrated the USAF Academy and command structure of USAF proper, not to mention our Congressional offices and Pickens didn’t like it one bit. He knew exactly how religion is used to control the masses, those will the spiritual knowledge and better intellects could control the lesser IQ’s with myth. Myth is used to control and an authentic spiritual person tries to free men from bondage, not enslave them.
He would have nothing to do with organized religion. His Catholic parents had groomed him to be a priest, but he wanted nothing to do with some god damn Roman anti-sex religion. He loved woman, he really loved everything to do with woman, how they looked, how they walked, how they talked, how they flipped their hair or argued with him. He loved woman, not rules, and he especially detested any religion that restricted a man’s natural instincts.
In fact he was on an eternal quest to find the perfect woman. What else could be worthy of his efforts but the perfect woman? Pickens was not just the most unruly pilot in the squadron, he was a woman slayer or the skankmaster as his friends called him. He slept with most any woman, but they weren’t whores liked they called them, they were love, how could his friends not see that? Well the label it stuck because it was true, so many American woman were skanks and whores.
Screw those Air Force wives and their bloated SUV’s that matched their butts, he laughed. If he survived this mission he would be riding so high, he wouldn’t just be walking on water, hell, he would be walking on clouds. And who knows, what lay ahead? He laughed to himself, what skanky bitch lay ahead he wondered? He was the one in the bomber now, and he had to make sure he wasn’t being played by the Christian Dominionists back at Command HQ.
The crew had dropped all four B61 thermonuclear bombs. They had changed the world and now they were headed on a straight line to Tehran, Iran. They were only able to take on 40,000 pounds of fuel and coincidentally they were going to land with 40,000 pounds of fuel. Gee, thought Pickens, if they hadn’t got any fuel they would of flamed out in the flare, but now all was fine. Why? Because obviously the God computer had given them the exact amount of fuel they needed to land with the exact minimum specified fuel amount.
So as they flew into Iran, the new ally of the New States of America, who but their new friend Amir, the Iranian F-14 pilot show up, once again on their right wing. They were being escorted right to the front gate of the Persian Palace he thought. Captain Pickens decided to mess with the copilots mind a bit, “Hey co, guess how much we are going to land with?” he asked the copilot. “I dunno?” “I’ll bet 40,000 pounds.” The copilot wondered, How does he know, he wouldn’t have said that unless he was sure?
About 200 miles out the pilot started the descent from 42,000 feet. The dropped the gear and flaps just before the final turn inbound to Imam Khomeni International and rolled out without using the drag chute. When the pilots shut the last engine down and the co was making the final fuel entry to the flight log, Captain Pickens asked the copilot what the final fuel total was. “40,000 … how the hell did you know?” Pickens grinned like the Cheshire Cat enjoying his mental victory.
They were greeted by USAF personnel – now stationed there. No surprise, thought Pickens, I should of guessed the boys in blue were already here. They proceeded to debriefing. The crew was transported in a brand new black Chevy Yukon SUV to the Hilton International and escorted directly to their rooms without having to check in, everything has been prearranged – how did they know he would land here?
When they got to the briefing room who else would be greeting them but the Squadron Commander and the wives of the crew members? What else could possibly surprise him, he told the copilot to handle the debriefing paperwork and headed downstairs to the bar after a quick shower. Funny how his clothes from his room at base housing just happened to be hanging in the closet at the Royal Tehran Hilton International.
Once at the bar he began to relax, the mission was finally over, what was he going to do with his life next? And what the hell just happened, how could he be here in the middle of the Muslim empire and not be the enemy of state after just nuking Mecca. Maybe they didn’t know what he just did, but maybe they did know and were ok with it. What the hell did he just do, being back on the ground he reminisced with some emotional regret.
He felt safe with so many USAF boys all around, if the Iranians were ok with them then he would be ok. Well the world is sure strange, he thought, and he started noticing how well dressed the Iranians were. When he turned back around in his bar stool there stood Amir, the same Iranian F-14 pilot had snuck up on him again. “Whoa, where’d you come from?” Pickens asked as reached out and shook the hand of his new friend. Pickens wondered if he had any more surprises for him. Amir replied that he was very well, and if if needed anything. Pickens accepted another drink on the house.
The generosity and warm friendliness of his Iranian hosts was most overwhelming. Then after the second drink Amir looked at him a bit more serious, and Pickens wondered what was coming next. Amir was drinking coffee, WTF, don’t these fools drink? Was he going to be confronted, did Amir have a question about the mission and what they did to Mecca, Pickens wondered.
It was neither, he wanted him to meet a very special person, his sister. Just when he finished the sentence, which was in perfect English, around the corner of the lobby came the most graceful and beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was more than lovely, this had to be his queen of hearts, that which he had desired for most of his adult life just floated right up to him like an angel.
Her eyes were bright yet soft with kindness. She was intelligent and witty, perfect skin and body. Yep, his intuition about how this day was going to end was right on, he had been escorted right into the palace with a perfect Persian Princess. She was perfect love, he knew his lifelong quest was finally completed, could this day get any better he thought? Not a chance.