Somebody doesn’t want the truth to be known …
December 29, 2019
Surfers Paradise, Gold Coast, Australia
It was a beautiful summer’s day in paradise.
I was on my way to meet with my “then” literary agent for an earlier version of my first book … “We should never have trusted the aliens”.
The agent had traveled all the way from New York for the meeting. I could barely contain my excitment.
Walking along busy Surfers Paradise Boulevard, my companion and I had some spare time to do some window shopping and soak up the atmosphere. The street was so crowded we barely moved at times; more like being in a queue, progress was that labored.
To put you in the picture fully, I stand about 5 feet 10 inches tall, I was walking on the outside, or left, of my companion (Australians walk and drive to the left) as we very slowly progressed along the pavement. I’m wearing dark-tinted sunglasses, a baseball cap, and I’m unshaven. Seriously, my mother would have had trouble recognizing me.
Looking ahead about 40 yards I could see a man approaching, much taller than myself, wearing dark glasses and cap also. I can’t honestly give any sound or valid reason why, but somehow, I sensed this man’s focus was on me, and that his purpose was dark or sinister. I swapped positions with my companion so that it was me that would pass close to him, not her.
As the distance slowly closed between us, I couldn’t help but think his gaze remained right at me. I began to realize that this man was more than just spectacularly muscular, he was absolutely massive. Clearly on his own, he seemed uninterested in the attractions and variety all about. His face was completely impassive; his apparent interest lay dead ahead. I deliberately made it appear that I wasn’t aware of his approach, only keeping tabs on him out of the corner of my eyes as I pretended to be absorbed by one attraction or another. There’s no way that he could see my gaze through the very dark tint of my glasses.
As the gap closed between us, I found myself bracing for aggression. Once again, I can’t explain why, it seems illogical. I actually pushed my companion gently off to the extreme edge of the pavement to give myself some room to react. She sensed the danger I perceived and obliged my direction without speaking.
The final moments before he was beside me were incredibly tense. His gaze remained straight ahead. Somehow though, I knew that behind those dark glasses, his eyes looked straight at me. Finally, after what seemed an eternity of tension, we were side by side. I kept facing ahead as if to appear uninterested in the massive stranger, but behind the veneer of my dark glasses he didn’t leave my sight. All of a sudden, he turns his head, only his head, to look directly at me.
‘Don’t do it Michael,’ he says with a threatening American (or very possibly Canadian) accent, then again looked straight ahead and continued on as if the encounter had never happened.
The experience was frightening. My companion was actually in tears and trembling. We never made the meeting with the agent, but as it turned out, he decided not to show anyway for reasons he’s never revealed to this day.
Know this. I will NOT be intimidated. I will NOT back off. I have extensive security footage of you from businesses in Surfers Paradise. Despite the dark glasses and cap, you are a highly distinctive individual and NOT the sort of person who can hide amongst the crowd. You WILL be found if ever we decide to look for you. The power of social media cannot be stopped or overestimated.
If anything should ever happen to me, or if anything untoward ever happens, you will only do harm to your cause. This (version of the book) is clearly fiction, but the sudden unexplained or mysterious undoing of the author will only fuel speculation as to the underlying truth of this tale.
There is much more that could have been revealed, and what has been revealed could have been delivered in a very different way. Several secure vaults of highly controversial content are under the control of several independent firms of lawyers not associated with each other and completely unknown to each other. These vaults contain further damning evidence of what’s been revealed here; evidence that you and whatever self-important, sad relic from the ‘60’s organization you belong to seem to believe you have the right to own, control, or restrict. No matter what it is that is the cause of my death or incapacity, all of the law firms (and other safe-houses you don’t need to know about) will release everything. You know what I’m talking about. EVERYTHING!!
I suggest that it’s now in your best interests that I live a long and healthy life.