Main Stream Media Uses Negro as Scapegoat

Main Stream Media Uses Negro as Scapegoat
President Trump Unites All Americans Through Education Hard Work Honest Dealings and Prosperity United We Stand Against Progressive Socialists DNC Democrats Negro Race Baiting Using Negroes For Political Power is Over and the Main Stream Media is Imploding FAKE News is Over in America

Friday, June 2, 2017

The FBI and President Donald Trump - Naked Drunk Foreign Spy - Paid by Russia - Backed UP by DNC Democrats -

Andy was kind of out of his mind with ideas, like carrying around a bomb about to explode as his head ached all the time.  Jane had found him charming and pleasant and Andy was truly tempted to turn around and knock on her front door, even at three o'clock in the morning.

He knew Jane was a long shot as her striking good looks dazzled everybody at the company meeting and especially during the after meeting cocktails as several men watched her finish her fourth tall glass of red wine just over an hour ago.  The five star Hotel only served the best wines and at twenty seven dollars a glass Andy was picking up Jane's bar bill.

Every quarter the "Cary Group" had their customary business meeting but Andy could tell Mr. Cary was wondering if the group would accept him as their new Vice President of Operations.

Andy was charged with anticipation as Mr. Cary informed him that his promotion to the executive group as Vice President of Operations would be announced at the quarterly meeting and Andy should plan to give a little speech in front of three hundred and four people, it kept him on the edge of his chair all night.

Andy could feel the camera focus on him during the speech while being transmitted live across the world to all the branches of the "Cary Group" as everybody in the live audience was surly wondering why in the hell would they promote the sixty year old Andy Ledger to the executive group in Richmond Virginia.

During Andy's speech he assured his fellow associates that the "Cary Group" would make a dramatic return to profitability as the newly created software already in the testing phase would make the Department of Defense plead for more and more.

Now standing alone, after his promotion announcement, after the quarterly meeting, after the speech, after the cocktails and after offering to give Jane Henning's a ride home, with his mind full he just stood by his Mercedes alone and looked at Jane's front door and wondered if he should just knock and try his luck.

He was kind of a ordinary guy, but she was kind of extraordinarily drunk and the potential of making love to her thirty something body was that light bulb in his head that would never go dark, she was something as he noticed the Cary Group customer service manager Jane Henning's had turned off her interior lights and would be going to bed tonight without him.

Andy drove in the direction of his own home but his mind was captivated by his promotion, his big raise in income and Jane Henning's laying in her bed.  He really didn't know why Mr. Cary promoted him over three other people but the deal was done, Andy was the boss and his salary was larger than the President of the United States, it had been a decent day.

Andy slowed down and took his freeway exit but didn't make the right turn to go home, he made a left and then left again, and started North bound, he was going to knock on the door.

He couldn't park right in front of her house because another car took the parking spot he had just left less than an hour ago.  Andy looked at the clock in his car and wondered what in the hell he was doing, it was past four o'clock in the morning now, at least it was Saturday.

Andy hadn't noticed the tall bushes in and around Jane Henning's home before as his new parking space gave him a new vantage point.  From his point of view now still sitting in his car Jane's front porch was shrouded by plantings and the little porch light still left her front porch shadowy which was making Andy a little uncomfortable about knocking on her door, it might scare her to death but then he saw the sliver of light come on between the closed blinds.

To save time Andy created a shortcut to Jane's front door and walked across the small but well kept front yard.  He was nervous but more confident as the interior light was on so Jane was at least up and running around.

Andy also hadn't noticed the wheelchair ramp to the far right of the front door before as it was dark and almost hidden by bushes and big chrysanthemums that were in full bloom.
Andy was in the night shadows of a sizeable maple tree when suddenly Jane's front door opened and flooded the front porch with her interior lights.  Not really knowing why Andy kind of slumped down making himself barely visible and then he noticed that he was holding his breath and was down on one knee like a thief in the night.

He felt like a Dummy but he stayed down as he watched a man walk out Jane's front door wearing a cowboy hat and turning to grab her ass while kissing her.  Andy couldn't see the man's face because of the cowboy hat while Andy thought he heard a distant thump of thunder and at every step he tried to get smaller and smaller.

Andy was a little frightened as the man with the cowboy hat walked toward the street using Jane's sidewalk as Andy moved up to the side of the house and noticed he was holding his breath again.

He was still crouching almost touching the side of Jane's house when he became conscious of the man with the cowboy hat opening and closing his automobile door.  He continued to move away from the street increasing the distance between him and the cowboy and was passing under one of Jane's window when he noticed he was at least breathing again.

He was conscious over every sound and could hear his own breathing, the cowboy starting his car and even Jane closing and locking her front door.  When he moved again the sounds of the crunching leaves under his black leather shoes sounded like firecrackers.

A new feeling washed over Andy, some impending danger that he could not explain as his focus intensified on everything but nothing at the same time.  Andy heard the thunder of another spring storm which suggested the weather man had been right at last.  

Saturday and Sunday thunder storms and lot's of lightning was the reason Mr. Cary had canceled the Sunday golf game as the curtains closed on the quarterly meeting just a few hours ago.
Andy heard something more, maybe from the backyard?  

Andy stood up and walked slowly to Jane's backyard six foot wooden fence and looked over the top and saw her standing there totally nude holding a single high-heeled red shoe in one hand and maybe another full glass of wine in the other.

He pulled up his coat collar as little drops of rain water started to fall as his sexual anticipation grew as her nude body was young, lean and perfect as she tossed her high heel shoe across the patio and looked directly at Andy.

Time stopped, his brain went rat-a-tat trying to figure out what to say or do as Jane was looking straight at him, but her stillness was reassuring, she had not seen him she had simply looked in his direction.

Andy was lost in time, he had been watching Jane for a long time, walking inside her walled backyard nude and pouring a few more glasses of wine as Andy's sexual tension increased more and more.

He felt like he just arrived but the sun was bringing morning light to the mountains in the East as Andy had been watching the nude Jane enjoy the rain like a child dancing in the rain. His own stillness and the breaking sun light created morning shadows as Andy heard Jane's cell phone ringing and her picking up and placing the call on speaker.

He heard a nearby tree branch crackle and break which made Andy jump which made him hit the wooden fence face first, and a lot of noise resulted as he fell against the water soaked fence.

It was a fucking dear, Andy saw the white tip of a tale heading away from Jane's front yard at a full mad dash as Andy had most likely scared the deer as much as the deer scared Andy.

He was hunkered down but then jumped up as Jane was running toward the noise which means she would discover the new Vice President of Operations of the "Cary Group", still in half darkness, with his manicured nails, expensive aftershave, and his penetrating blue eyes watching her nude chest and remind her of the man called a college football player that had raped her during her college years.

Andy ran as fast as he could, opened his car door and fumbled for his car keys he had left in his briefcase under his Hustler magazine tucked inside at the last minute.

Jane would never know that Andy had placed his car keys inside his briefcase along with three rolls of duct tape, two sets of silver police handcuffs and a brand new pretty unregistered nine millimeter pistol along with three loaded clips.

Jane had found nothing at the fence but the foreshadowing thought of her own rape kept her up at night and her drinking kept her in some kind of balance, at least she thought.
Jane knew the Cowboy was a dodgy kind of character but she needed the money and he glided right in and glided right out as he paid her three hundred bucks for her occasional groans that telegraphed to her date he was doing a good job.

Jane would go down in the basement now, taking the padding off her piano and maybe play for a while, music was her personal diary and the drugs she would take would keep her awake all weekend and her secret life would remain hers for another day.

The cowboy had confessed after they had sex that he was married and the money he paid was worth it even though it was his car payment for the old firebird that was about to be repossessed.
When Andy got home the sun was out and some of the clouds had cleared away as he parked his car inside his garage and out of habit he looked out his rearview mirror, making sure his car was all the way inside the garage before he shut the door.

He was at home now and soaking wet, muddy shoes and torn pants, a closed briefcase but he did notice a nice old red firebird parked across the street.  Andy had always wanted one in High School but never had the cash, but maybe he would buy one now, just to play with, take to car shows on weekends.  A vice president can do anything the wants.
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Mr. Cary had his meeting at the Pentagon, and it went well, well kind of.  The Cary Group created specialized software and worked with computer manufacturers to create global security programs for customers such as the Pentagon, N.S.A., C.I.A. and other big league players. If anything went "bump in the night" the United States would know about it just about in real time, at least that was the Cary Group promise.

Over thirty years ago Roger Cary started the Cary Group when he had left the C.I.A. as an intelligence operative.  Roger never did the spook stuff like behind the iron curtain days and he never wished to tie a Russian spy up in a dark cold basement. 

Roger Cary had graduated from M.I.T. as a computer scientist and the C.I.A. offered him his first and last job.  If anything Roger Cary was a intelligence sleuth, an insider looking outside at the world of trouble and planning how to stop them, that always included killing them.

He enjoyed his C.I.A. career but working there was a little bit too political than anybody could imagine.  His reporting was changed and presented to the authorities in charge of government security.  His thoughts and opinions were often times ignored but his techniques had made him famous inside the C.I.A. and he enjoyed the highest security clearance that the United States had to offer.

The C.I.A. work at times was unnerving so when Barack Obama was elected as president Roger Cary decided to pack his bags and avoid all the muggings coming from the White House.

Roger Cary took with him, inside his briefcase, his own personal retirement plan that was better than any 401K in the world.  Roger Cary had decided to leave the C.I.A. but the upper management inside the agency wanted to give him a going away present.

Inside his own home. after leaving the C.I.A.,  Roger walked down the wooden stairs into his home basement and noticed that the contractors, hired and paid for by the C.I.A., had installed the refrigerator sized tempered steel safe into the concrete basement floor, following every little instruction given by the C.I.A.

In a way it was unsettling because his briefcase held C.I.A.'s "Tabby Weapons Cache" administratively known as "TWC" around the office, mostly just called "Tabby".

 It was the most powerful computer software ever created by man and used in secret around the world to find bank robbers, uncover corrupt politicians, dig out Islamic radicals and even stopping commuter trains, turning green lights red, remotely opening bank safes and a million other things. Tabby had even halted the nuclear centrifuges in Iran a few years ago.

Roger Cary would receive ten thousand dollars a month to maintain an authorized original copy of "Tabby" so his secret life continued.  In his basement, sitting on the old wooden chair he inserted his card into the slot on the face of the save, and the safe light turned green and the steel door started to open automatically and in a few seconds locked into the open position.

He crouched from his chair and again inserted his C.I.A. coded card into the computer device inside the safe and watched another little light turn green, as a full sized computer station automatically lifted and locked into place, he was now connected to the main frame at the C.I.A. Headquarters in Virginia.

As the computer work station lifted up and out of the safe Roger Cary took the coded note from inside his shirt pocket readying himself to access the C.I.A. computer infrastructure.
His typing on the computer keyboard was barely audible even has his fingers floated across the keyboard typing in his secret password, a twenty digit alpha numerical combination as  the main computer still inside the safe blinked to full life he typed in his username "Annie" and he was connected.

His basement room sprang to light as the system now took over its own environment including his home security system.  Some instinct told Roger Cary to hold still and not to make any sudden moves, the system was spooky and fun at the same time.

He opened his briefcase and took out the thirteen thumb drives and starting inserting them into the drive one at a time, each time requiring a different password neatly written on his little piece of paper. 

Roger Cary had a funny feeling like he was in a getaway car after robbing a bank or being chased by the cops after running a red light.  He didn't want the F.B.I. to break into his home in the middle of the night and toss him into the trunk of a government black sedan,  but he kept inserting the thumb drives, typing in the next password for the next twenty minutes, maybe longer, he wasn't really sure.

As instructed he pushed the red button that would aim all the thumb drive software into the proper folders already created on his remote government computer.  He noticed the computer inside the safe looked like he could have been mounted in a combat tank as he sat there and watched the workstation being received back into the safe, the safe door closing and locking, the red light went bright, he was done.

Roger Cary spoke out loud "Annie" "what a code name" as he took the package out of his briefcase and took out the ten thousand dollars in cash and counted it and in some dreamlike state he counted the cash three times.

The drama of leaving the C.I.A. had exhausted him and this special assignment deal with the C.I.A. and the sequence of events were almost unbelievable.

The last thing in his briefcase, the handgun that he was given by Thomas his so-called present day handler at the C.I.A.  Roger didn't know the difference between pistols but his first lesson was tomorrow at three thirty in the afternoon.  The basement shooting range and his instructor would teach him how to load, aim and shoot, Thomas had assured him.

Roger Cary wasn't looking forward to the weapons training let alone learning how to hold it, present the proper stance and bracing for recoil as he pulled the trigger at some paper target down the range. 

Thomas had told him "Dead Men Don't Bleed Roger, and they sure don't talk."

Roger got up off his wooden chair and got the idea that he was hungry.

He felt like he was standing on a cliff's edge holding the Mauser semiautomatic pistol as he slowly walked up the wooden stairs back to the main floor of his home.

It was the door bell that surprised him, and then the loud knocking.


Trying to solve the puzzle Roger Cary looked out the window and snapped back into reality as the Sheriff's deputy knocked even louder.




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