Читать книгу The Day John Fitzgerald Kennedy Past - Welby Thomas Cox Jr. - Страница 11

Mick Flynt, the hardnosed CIA operative had a vision of the shooter. He would be a loner, not well educated, a failure as a soldier, a wife abuser and poor example of a father and son. Probably around thirty years of age, a man exhibiting a high degree of self-importance and a bitter, (bordering on panic hatred for anything related to the government,) probably exhibiting a small-man complex which he attempted to make-up for by wearing a gun. He would enjoy being photographed with his rifle and side arm and even would wear an ammo belt strapped around his chest.

Louis Wagner, an old school CIA operative possessed a great talent for forgery especially for official looking documents and had been recruited by Mick Flynt to play a major role on the team.

Ray Ray Beltray, the most dangerous man on the team was the “go to guy” when the order called for violence with Knife, hand guns of any make or model, rifle with or without scope and he was an expert with the use of explosives. It is said that the infamous role of Dirty Harry was replicated in real life by Ray Ray Beltray. Ray Ray knew the men who could be trusted in the ring of fire and he often tested them until they made the grade, or he sent them home to Mama. All Ray Ray required to mold the perfect shooter, was Flynt’s design of the hit man or should I say “miss man”. He knew that Mick wanted a ‘real lifer’ with name, face and the psychological profile of a would be assassin. Flynt had come with the brilliant strategy that one of the shooters must be politically active in a fringe group. One who often sought access to high level government officials in support of leftist causes and visa related issues for exiles. This man would come to be known, behind his back, as “the patsy”. He would take the heat for any foul-up. He would be easy to train, a man who enjoyed the rigors of hand-to-hand combat.

Two other shooters would be trained to vanish like heavy dew in the sun…poof, just like it was never there…nor were they. They would be the kind of men who would leave no trace for investigators or any association with an attempt on the life of the President. All would speak Spanish and would be veterans of the Cuban invasion at the Bay of Pigs. The patsy provides more of the essential detail like a phony job at a company in New Orleans which grinds coffee. He would maintain an address book of those he recruited as Fidel Castro sympathizers’. Utilizing these recruits to hand out pro-Castro literature, this job or one like it would give the patsy a cover for being at this sight and certain to be isolated from the other shooters and therefore required to fend for himself in the event that he is trailed like a coon, treed by the dogs and possibly killed by the police or some over-zealous freak like himself.

Whatever the MO, this shooter will be an expert with his weapon of choice. He will be a relative unknown in criminal circles with only a record for political activity related to scuffles with agitators while trying to distribute his Castro literature.

Ray Ray could visualize the profile, around six feet tall, this at 155 pounds, close cropped military hair-cut, clean shaven, neatnik wearing a pressed shirt and pants with creases. He would be quick to smile, quick to anger. Ray Ray would find the man; he had to find this man, the missing link for a date with destiny in Miami.

Ray Ray knew well that time was running short and he had the responsibility to train these shooters to fire a shot at the President’s limo and to make certain they missed the President. Certain to be the most profound and expensive miss by a trained marksman in the limited attempt on the life of a world leader.

Mick Flynt sat waiting for his wife. He sipped on a gin and tonic and admired his garden. It had taken them several seasons to get the sedums from small plants, integrated with the English ivy along the natural pathway, the privet had taken hold miraculously thickly flocked and pruned at precisely forty inches. Of course there was no grass back here; Mick had planned it that way. There was a small pool at the edge of the house on the north, perfectly situated for the morning to mid­afternoon sun and protected from the sun in the afternoon by the house. All of this pointed to the main focal point of the garden an ornate brass sprinkler with oscillating features and colored lights for a dazzling display in the evening as the family sat in the screened-in porch to enjoy the night.

This was the place where he did most of his serious planning, knowing that the Cubans and most of the committee wanted any planned event to take place in Miami, But Mick had a bad taste for the location. Of course it was convenient for most of the exiles...but most of all Mick did not want the Cubans involved but it did provide ample cover where the Cuban exiles lay in wait for another chance to invade Cuba and put Castro in his grave.

Mick had found that most Latinos where very emotionally charged as a culture. They had a wealth of energy, spoke with a rapid fire tongue and in a loud fashion as though every conversation contained an element of an emergency. They were much like the blacks, standing next to each other screaming and laughing in these phony high pitched laughs which started and stopped on a dime. He knew that this was a learned element of life in a large family where a child had to scream in order to get the attention he needed. But knowing the reason did not provide sufficient cause for Mick to try to avoid being around this insanity. He was very laid back, highly educated, enjoyed classical music, the opera, quiet discussions on world affairs, books...especially historical fictions and he never watched the television, not even for the world news because he knew of the media bias and he had the job requirement to shape his own views from the secret dispatches received by the company as they occurred.

Miami was closest to becoming a third world city and it was this very flammability which caused him to be determined to keep the plan secret from the anti-Castro exile leaders. Kennedy had been in Miami only a few months before this planned visit, and just as he and Jacquelyn had been the guest of honor on the Aristotle Socrates Onassis yacht, The Christina. Mick knew the file inside and out on this Greek and was prepared with the intelligence to present an offer Onassis could not refuse.

Onassis was an ass kisser of the highest order, an economic whore who would pay any price to get what he wanted or to extract revenge. This misfit was surely known to Kennedy, as he sipped the costly wine, knowing he should ‘beware of Greeks bearing gifts,’a historical legacy. It is reported Kennedy, whose wit was renown among friends and foes, is said to have made the statement in his famous twang..."Tell Onassis his gifts are acceptable so long as they do not include a wooden horse."

Kennedy knew as well of the bitterness between his brother, Robert, the Attorney General, who had denied a license for the illegally acquired Onassis fleet to enter the harbors of the United States. Onassis had attempted every political trick and spent millions without gaining the proper avenues which had always been open to him. It has been reported, Kennedy's wrath had been traced to Onassis's characterization of Bobby Kennedy as Bugs Bunny...and after a few drinks he was known to entertain his guest with his favorite impression of Bobby..."Da, Da what’s up doc?" It was a costly laugh for Onassis who would get the last laugh in the end by arranging the murder of both Kennedy’s.

Mick knew the President loved south Florida, he and his siblings had grown up at the spacious Kennedy compound at Palm Beach, just a few miles from Miami. Eighty-five thousand people showed up in a football stadium for his last visit. They came to see the President who had garnered the status of a rock star and to be treated to a rare greeting from Mrs. Kennedy in fluent Spanish...with her own French twist. The Latino’s lavishing them with affection, enough to turn the head of any politician. Many of the revelers had just been released from prison in Cuba, causing the event to become an emotional reunion.

The moment for reconciliation...the day when the Catholic President went into the confession and admitted failure on the Cuban invasion, without mentioning his culpability and his very own responsibility for the deaths of thousands there on Blue Beach when he chose not to provide the air cover he had promised. The promise preceding the promise he had made to the Russians that he would never invade Cuba.

There, he was for one-hundred-seventy-thousand ears to hear, and pass judgment. Seven Our Fathers and Seven Hail Mary's and a good Act of Contrition would not be sufficient for this crowd.

All the files withheld, sent now to the media where Michael Flynt had sat watching from the La Moderne Hotel. But the event failed to renew the cause of the exiles, the dedication to freedom from another despot from tyranny through the rule of weapons. Flynt saw it now as pure public relations, the kind of spectacle made for television.

Flynt's wife arrived and he went out to the car to help with the grocery shopping. He took the heavy bags leaving the smaller ones for her. There was a slight chill in the air, maybe a rain coming in to cleanse the pollution and nourish the plants in Mick's garden. He watched himself in a corner of his mind, just an average stiff on a quiet street, helping his wife do a domestic thing with no thought of being watched.

Joyce handed him the groceries as he stood inside the spacious pantry. The recessed lights where not up to the task as he hunted for the canned mushrooms. It annoyed him he had forgotten to replace the bulbs and last year’s fire alarm. He loved the smell of the pantry; it took him back to his boyhood where his mother poured hot water into a tub for his Saturday scrub. The room pungent from the spices mixed with the grains...Mick felt safe here because this was also the place where his father had hidden his stash of munitions which Mick often touched.

Maybe he would install a microwave to cook fried rice with Mackerel, onions and bell peppers which he had learned from a prisoner released from Leavenworth. Nothing the family would eat but a favorite for a man held-up in the pantry or as he referred to it as his "safe-house."

A place of refuge for a spy coming in from the turmoil of the day and its cold reality of the bitter stakes in the high test zones where a slight tip of the head, a jester of the hand, sufficient to bring down the kingdom.

Louis Wagner would inform him well in advance if there were plans for JFK to return to Miami The President would come with his entourage, including his "look-alikes", his handlers, secretaries, advisors, protectors (FBI), glad-handers and political refugees. A City of Sunshine, for tops down and bottoms up...where the President would be a sitting dove!

Wagner was willing to wait for Miami; he knew they would be playing to the choir there. It would provide a safe shot from a distance with the help of a special scope, to eliminate a side-walk shooting with a hand gun and thousands of spectators.

He followed Joyce to the door.

He had figured every angle but he began with a gut check on the purpose for wanting to resurrect another attempt to over-throw Castro and his brother Raul.It was essential for the investigators to know that Kennedy wanted Castro dead. The plans with all kind of provocation had been designed and carefully edited to the second. Therefore, he would not participate unless and until the CIA's efforts where peeled away like a sweet Florida orange. Even when some of the schemes, of his own making; schemes to assassinate Fidel Castro, schemes to kill Che’ which worked. This was a special gift from Wagner, his personal contribution to a well-informed public. Let them see what goes on behind closed doors and the plots designed and approved at high levels, put into motion and in the end, Fidel Castro just got so pissed he told his aides... “well fuck this gringo, we can shoot too.”

Merwin Hamilton's narration of these events and the file information was nothing short of a miraculous feast. I was certain that the man had a photogenic memory and capable of total recall, line for line of every report on the subject of the Cuban invasion and the assassination of John F. Kennedy.

But the time had come for me to take a toilet break, and surely a coffee refill for the old curator. I was so grateful that Ham had chosen this morning and had been able to get most of the historical detail with the major events as they occurred.

About half an hour passed for the pause to refresh and we settled in once again in front of the broken window where the Starlings came to perch, feed and shit on the bits of bread left by two old cons.

The failure of the invasion of Cuba was yet another in a LONG LINE of failures by the United States, permitting piss ants to dictate the terms and territories when the world power had the upper hand. The CIA became the red-headed step-child for the delivery of inaccurate documents and advice to the President. It was followed by irate calls from congress and citizens alike for a massive house cleaning at the CIA, something which occurred routinely but never done.

No lesson seemed to have been learned in North Korea by a world power that had the balls to drop the bomb on Japan. Instead Kim Jung pulled an end-around, pushing the Americans back to the 38th Parallel into what became known as the Demilitarized Zone (and thus began a sixty-five year stand-off between the North Koreans and twelve Presidents...count them: Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, Ford, Carter, Regan, Bush 1, Clinton, Bush 2 and finally Obama..), and in the interim North Korea has been permitted to develop the bomb and the systems to deliver it to California, while waving it about at the least provocation.

Now comes the Chinese buoyed by the victory of its puppet in Vietnam and they laugh at the United States provocative statements on human rights while rolling it’s tanks into Red Square. They too have since developed the bomb. The litany of countries which the United States has given away our military technology and those countries permitted to develop a military deterrent to our power, is nothing short of a treasonous act on the part of President’s sworn to protect the United States.

Look at Iran, once our domain...gone and developing nuclear capability, look at Pakistan, Look at India, and we choose to go into Iraq on what had to be called a brilliant military move, though in all truthfulness Bush II and his advisors did not understand what they had done. Bush II's agenda was to seek revenge for the threats against his father...which he chose to label as a country with weapons of mass destruction, which were never found.

Now along comes Obama and gives away a strategic foothold in the Middle East to mitigate the threats from the evil empires. The return of Iraq may go down in history as one of the most stupid events in our long line of stupid mistakes in our military history.

Not only have we permitted these countries to push us around but we have also, under the brilliance of the Rhodes Scholar Clinton, given away all our wonderful blue collar jobs to the very countries with the bomb.

Add to that the historical theft by the Asians of military secrets and high tech rights while developing and selling knock offs without pain or penalty from the United States. Then they give away Hong Kong without a shot but we can spend and give away billions in Afghanistan while begging the electronically enhanced Chinese to purchase our short term treasuries to keep our ship-of-state from bankruptcy, permitting the Asians to place tolls on every exist on the interstates.

It does not end there, since 1949 this country has supported Israel, even when the world knew Israel had illegally taken land which the Israeli leadership had agreed belonged to the Palestinians. And, through President after President, arbitration after arbitration wasn't sufficient to make the Zionist abide by the treaties. Oh, yes they etched the documents with invisible ink and abscounded.

As a result of our support of Israel...Iran assassinates its puppet President and rids the country of anything remotely American. And we stood by, without fart or fiddle and watched a man in dress and diaper drain our interest and money.

Since the bombing of Japan, eight countries have come on line with nuclear capability, all of them financed on the back of the American taxpayer. The future of our children’s, children, is now straddled with a staggering national debt of twenty trillion dollars…the legacy of a Friday night drunk.

What is wrong with this picture?

The United States, in both parties, has permitted the deterioration of our strength and our wealth by supporting a failed military and economic strategy.

Recently our longtime friend and ally with whom we have an agreement for protection for a ready source of oil, gave notice to our President through the Secretary of State, Hilliary Clinton, if we did not review and alter our stand on Israel, Saudi Arabia would revisit the agreement inked fifty years ago. This threat is nothing short of saber rattling and Obama makes some statement, supporting the Muslim stand that Israel was going to have to be more compelling in its treatment of the West Bank Arabs.

We have been protecting Saudi Arabia for more than fifty years and President Obama permits this little desert Nat to threaten to break our agreement.

“Now really what is wrong with this picture?” Hamilton asked me.

“Finally, I will make one last point in a different time zone and then we will get back to the time in which you have the most interest. As we draw down in Iraq, after spending billions and having billions stolen by the in-place leadership, we take no collateral for all our money while ten percent of our citizens are hard core unemployed.

Let me tell you the company’s position. It believes that every United States President since Harry S. Truman has fulfilled the American citizens’ desire for isolation. The Americans grew weary of World War II, and Vietnam which produced great casualty, major cost and humiliation. None of our leaders have had the stomach to make the tough decisions and choices in the best interest of this country

"In America We Trust," is no longer valid.

It is my opinion, America has been ruled by a litany of toothless fools who have sold out the American dream and have placed this country on the slippery slope into world leaders oblivion...soon to be a third world country. Just as we leave Iraq, President Obama, who bad mouthed Bush II, sends 15,000 Marines to Australia. Seems he has a taste for conflict as long as its… his conflict.