Gadget Bent – Shake Hands With The Devil by Field McConnell – Chapter One

Gadget Bent

Shake Hands With The Devil

by Field McConnell


Gadget Proof Book Pic










GADGET BENT is a military term that pilots use to tell others that their fire control radar system is inoperative. Marine Colonel James E. Sabow, with 221 combat mission over Vietnam, would recognize the meaning immediately, if he were alive today. Field McConnell is using this very familiar term as the title of his book to signify our military leadership and national leadership is broken and the Constitution is being ignored. He is right on target.

One example of ‘GADGET BENT’ is the book’s account of Arrow Air 1285, which crashed and burned with the death of 256 personnel on a cold December morning while taking off from Gander, Newfoundland. The DC-8 was burning in the air from an incendiary device planted by our government to kill everyone on board. The aircraft included a number of Special Operations personnel who carried nuclear backpacks with them. They had aborted their suicide mission to use the nuclear backpacks to destroy an Iraqi nuclear facility. Their ‘reward’ was a horrible death in a Canadian forest only weeks before Christmas.

Another example is the murder of Colonel James E. Sabow, my brother, on January 22, 1991, in the backyard of his quarters at MCAS, El Toro, CA. Colonel Sabow was found by his wife, dead from a gunshot wound to his head. The NCIS and Base Headquarters immediately designated his death as “suicide”. In fact, within one hour after they arrived at the crime scene, they called me to inform me that my brother “committed suicide”. The medical examiner at Orange County ruled the death a suicide, in spite of overwhelming autopsy evidence to the contrary.

I became suspicious of foul play due to a number of inconsistencies. I shared my concerns with the NCIS, as well as a number of senior Marine Corps officers. I became ever more suspicious when relevant documents, including the autopsy report were denied me by the Marine Corps. I received a copy of the autopsy report. That document proved beyond any doubt that my brother was murdered. One of the most startling findings was that he had inhaled a large quantity of blood and predominantly into his right lung. Yet, the autopsy stated that there was no remaining brainstem for it was demolished by the shotgun blast. This meant that he had inhaled a substantial amount of blood into his lungs before he was shot, for breathing is impossible without a brainstem.

Furthermore, since most of the inhaled blood was in the right lung, he was lying on the ground on his right side while he breathed. The evidence continued to mount and finally I acquired skull x-rays that were taken during the autopsy by the Orange County Medical Examiner. The x-rays demonstrated a large depressed occipital skull fracture behind the right ear, which had to have resulted from an external blunt force trauma.

The forensic evidence clearly indicated that my brother did not fire the shotgun. The evidence of Col. Sabow’s murder is overwhelming. Why he was murdered and why there has been such a massive effort by the government in undertaking this cover-up is another matter. Colonel Sabow was Chief of Operations for Marine Air, Western Area. Shortly before his death, he learned of criminal activity by higher officials at El Toro, involving illegal guns-for- drugs shipments to Latin America. He was intent on exposing these activities. The cover-up involves the DOD, the FBI and 6 others. The DOJ, which has chosen to look the other way, at some point will be compelled to ask: WHO and WHY. Col. Sabow’s murder and the subsequent cover-up by high military officials should be brought to light, if not for my family to receive justice, then for the American people who deserve much better from their officials. What is obvious from this entire chronicle is to what extent militarism has overcome our country and how covert intelligence operations are used to carry out the militaristic agenda.

John David Sabow, M.D.
Rapid City, SD



Retired Fighter Pilot and Commercial Airline Captain, Field McConnell brings you the SHAKE HANDS WITH THE DEVIL series of books that will blow your mind as to what’s really going on in the hierarchy of those around the world in various positions of power. After ten years of tirelessly dedicating his retirement to exposing the lies, cover-ups, deception, murder and conspiracies behind multiple world-wide events; Field puts into words what’s behind every event the world needs to wake up to. Field writes with passion from a powerful position of personal first-hand relations and experience, having being exposed to some of the most evil individuals the world has seen…. and you can’t get much closer than that! – Declan Curran, New Zealand

When the powerful set themselves high in order to look down upon those over whom they hope to gain advantage, there is very little moral restraint to the use of expedient foul play whenever an opportunity is recognized. It’s way past the time for sunshine to expose evil, forcing it to flee the scene. Few venture as far as Field McConnell into the depths of the systems that make the world work. What he has found during his work along with David Hawkins and the Abel Danger team, is a remarkable list of heinous, acrid, and foul deeds some of which have been kept hidden for centuries yet continue to influence the modern world. No matter how deep he goes using his life experiences and the wits of a fighter pilot, his fellow researchers go along as well, to learn and collaborate. As more and more facts are gathered, the grave necessity of continued dredging becomes apparent. Hang on to your hats, fellow travelers, we are going into turbulence! Tragedies are felt most strongly when a man dies before his time, either from an accident or an illness beyond cure. When the life of a man who dies before his time at the hands of those in positions of power and respect, that is a crime which must be fully investigated no matter where the facts lead; and the perpetrators prosecuted, no matter who they are. – Suzanne Darby, Maine

Field McConnell presents an astounding and eye-brow raising alternative history of the events that occurred during the Sept 11 2001 bombing of the World Trade Twin towers. As an Expert Pilot, who has flown hundreds of Military Jets and Commercial Aircraft, he postulates that no human being could have flown a normal Commercial Aircraft into those towers. McConnell explains how the Boeing Corp has been flying drone versions of their Commercial Airlines since the 1950’s and how those planes must have been flown remote-controlled into the towers. McConnell’s theory is well supported by the data, and answers many of the technical questions that his Expert testimony gives to the Conspiracy Theorists around the world. – James Phillips, Arizona

Field is one of the special people that Our Creator has used throughout history by calling on him to share his unique family history and life experiences as his mandate dictates in Ephesians 5:11, “Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them”. I am proud to call Field McConnell my friend. – Brian Bengert, Georgia

An eclectic writer who delivers multiple layers of interpretation in oft seemingly cryptic terms. For nearly a decade Field has dedicated his life as a persona non grata whistleblower to FAA and ALPA, exposing the death pool purpose of the Boeing Honeywell Uninterruptible Autopilot. Along the way the darkness has led to other paths of evil, including the snuffing of Colonel James Sabow, which Field McConnell dedicates part of his book ‘Gadget Bent’ in revealing the truth to Col. Sabow’s murder ruled as a suicide. Don’t be deterred as new readers are often perplexed by the terms and phrases laid down yet soon gain a handle on the jargon. Readers must understand that most characters are real people performing in a fictional setting to recreate real events. Crimes, many catastrophic, that reveal the horrible abuse bestowed upon world citizens by dark forces bent on human enslavement. McConnell’s crew is on a mission to expose and rebuke history by revisiting past crimes, along the way provide some spirited laughs and hard jabs on a rather weighty journey. – Kraig Peterson, Michigan



There are numerous individuals without whom this book and this series would not be possible. None of them seek credit so their real names will not be used. However, without the support of Agents Hawk, Barry M. Hall and Tillman this book would never have been written. If not for the encouragement of my fiancée Denise it would never have been considered.

Having said that, if the perpetrators of these heinous crimes had not violated their oaths and killed innocent servants honoring their oaths, this truthful revelation would not be necessary and the fictional characters would not need to discover and expose.

Further, if it were not for God, Himself, calling me to service, I’d not dare write.

His call: Psalm 94:16

His mission: Ephesians 5:11

His intel: Daniel 2:21-22 and Jeremiah 33:3

His protection: Psalm 91:11-14 and Isaiah 54:17

His ordained result: Proverbs 21:31


Chapter One

The sun came up and our eyes were assaulted by God’s unlimited radiant power and the Captain of Northwest Flight 44 lowered his sun screen as I told the him and the plumber, a former F15 pilot call sign Granny, that I had to retire to the blue room to get rid of some coffee, as in void my bladder.

I glanced at the flight guidance box forward on the right side of the throttle quadrant and saw that we were still 1 hour and thirty seven minutes from London Gatwick and my mind and heart raced off to the Brighton Metropole on the southern coast of England, the nearby Lamb and Flag pub and a young lady who I had met during the U S Naval Academy NATRON II cruise aboard the USS Guadalcanal LPH-7 in July of 1970.

She was only four years old when I had met her mother, father and self at the White Hart Pub in Frimley, Surrey, England. As her father and I shared a pint the song “Make It With You” by Bread was playing on the Juke Box beside the ladies room, called a ‘loo’ in that part of the United Kingdom.

The blue room in first class was open so as I walked in and slid the lock to display the ‘occupied’ sign to any other prospective pissers, or worse. I thought of Captain Thomas N. Christianson who had died of a heart attack at age 53 in another Northwest DC10 on a flight from Los Angeles to our domicile, Minneapolis. I also recalled the recent murder of Colonel James Sabow USMC which GHWB authorized to keep his 22 January, 1991 “drug, oil and Kuwaiti Dinar reset” war on track.

In as much as I did not need to void my bladder I sat down on the lavatory lid and turned my Clipper phone on and reviewed the message I had received from Agent McDime as we crossed 30 West and came under control of Shannon Radio.

McDime had proposed a meeting at 1111 on this day, 27 February, 1991. I had no idea what McDime needed to share with me but was aroused by his comment that Afterburner and DICE would be with us at the Lamb and Flag for the sharing of intel significant to both the US and the UK regarding the droning of commercial airliners not limited to Boeing jets and Airbuses.

As Agent McDime had once been the provider of Arabian semen to the horse master of QE2, Lord Porchester, I was confident that my time would not be wasted. However, his final comment “hark back to 7-27-70 and White Hart” was not clear to me. I was not aware of the other Agents Afterburner and DICE but McDime had ended the message with CODE 357.

My concentration was broken as we entered into some moderate chop and the Captain, a former USMC F8 Crusader pilot named Bob Perry, made a PA regarding the seat belt sign with another code word that would not be understood by the traveling public or Cabin Rabbits. That word was ‘methodical’.

I flushed the lavatory to create the illusion that I had voided my bladder or created an underwater statue of Kristine Marcy who had committed a Treason against my country in 1979 when she created the United States Senior Executive Service at the request of Jimmy Carter whose family will always be remembered for Billy Beer which was a product his brother inspired.

Jimmy Carter, on the other hand, inspired us very little. I slid the bolt, opened the lavatory door and greeted the obese woman in queue and let myself into the cockpit using the Boeing key even though this was a Douglas aircraft not to be confused with a McDonnell Douglas aircraft such as the MD80 series of jets that American Airlines got dirt cheap after the Chicago O’Hare crash of Flight 191 which was blamed on an improperly hung #1 engine which is, in part, true.

Bob was pulling back the DC-10-40 engines one at a time to prevent a triple flame-out which could be caused if one were to be FUBAR enough to pull all three back rapidly at the top of descent at an altitude such as our FL370. I settled into my seat just as our domestic control was passed from Ireland to England, specifically London Center. I checked in with ATC as I was handed the arrival weather for Gatwick indicating we should expect to land on runway 26L, full length.

We broke out from under the overcast at 16,000 feet, QNH 29.91, and I could see the coast all the way from Brighton and Hove to where the coast bends at Dover, which inspired the song by Vera Lynn ( There’ll Be Blue Birds Over ) The White Cliffs of Dover. I could not see the Metropole but I did see the old Brighton Pier. I was wondering about the timing of the proposed rendezvous at the Lamb and Flag and hoping that Afterburner 14 and DICE had dissimilar plumbing than that hanging from McDime and Chips.

Bob Perry called for the first extension of flaps as we slowed below 280K and my attention was focused on our base turn to final, Runway 26L but still hoping for the best at the Lamb and Flag at 1111 or whatever time earlier I might arrive for my ‘good morning pints’. We were told to slow to minimum speed as the Delta jet ahead had slowed as they crossed the outer marker. “Gear down, landing check” barked Captain Perry in the left seat and the second officer, Granny, and I did the captain’s bidding.

I gave the 1000 foot call verbally and as we approached the flare the automatic height calls were sounding as Bob produced another of his signature ‘grease job’ landings which generally included a small roll to the upwind side so that one main truck would touch down before the other one and that on each truck the trailing bogey would touch down before the leading bogey.

“Flaps up, after landing check’ said Bob as he retracted the spoilers and turned right two times and headed for gate 37 at London Gatwick’s South Terminal. Traffic was light that morning and as we taxied to the gate my thoughts returned to Agent McDime and the Agents unfamiliar to me although it was quite possible they knew of me relating to the oath I took on 14 February, 1967 prior to leaving Punahou School in Honolulu, Hawaii for The United States Naval Academy at Annapolis, Maryland. As I placed my Jeppesen manuals in my kit bag I wondered if Steve Luckey and I were the only two Northwest pilots allowed to carry a loaded handgun while flying for an FAR 121 Air Carrier in the United States.

The DC10 came to a halt, the chock signal was given to the captain and as the brakes were released and the seat belt sign went off, Granny the second officer, plumber or wrench, completed the parking check and filled out the log book. Bob got up and mentioned he’d say 280 goodbyes if I’d be kind enough to go talk to the bus driver that awaited us at the base of the HSBC sky bridge ladder. Sky bridge is udderly English for jet way just as coach is udderly English for bus.

Walking down the steel stairs I regretted carrying the two quarts of Absolut Vodka but some habits are hard to break and a little “deep dish olive soup” made it much easier to fall asleep if there was no one to snuggle up to and configure in the ‘saucy spoons’ position so popular to the viewers of Cosmopolitan magazine a European periodical that seemed to focus unduly on sex. The bus driver opened the baggage door, starboard side towards the front of the coach which is what Brits call buses I think. My two bags were delicately positioned in the cargo bin as the captain, plumber and the cabin rabbits made their way down the sky bridge ladder. I boarded the coach and went to the Rosa Parks and Harriet Tubman end and sat in extreme left seat just as my Clipper phone signaled an incoming call from Agent McDime.

I noted that his phone number started with international calling code +357. I texted a message to him suggesting we speak at half nine which is limey talk for 0930, capeche? I wanted to delay the conversation until I found out who was sitting where and the noise of the big diesel engine under my gluteus maximus would drown out my speaking as I knew that odds were good that McDime might wish to chat about a company that assembled airline galley equipment, LA Rumbold or perhaps the issue of what BAE and GAPAN were up to regarding a technology that would not be deployed for another 4 years according to estimates of DARPA, Senior Executive Service, GAPAN and most importantly, Abel Danger.

Well, not by Boeing anyway although it was already being installed in the A320 family of French Airbus jets and had been since 1989 the year that a pair of shitbirds in Libyan MiG23s found out how lethal the F14A could be even without resorting to launching the Phoenix missiles reserved for more capable enemies like the Israelis or the North Dakota ANG whose pilots including Dittwad, TLAR and Plunger had pretty much cleaned up at William Tell 1986 winning 60% of the trophies while competing with USAF and Canadian kids in more modern jets. The coach exited the security gate and started towards the M23 motorway and as it passed Thales and then Schlumberger he harked back to a conversation with Kristine Marcy in December, 1988 where he explained to the director of the U S Marshal Service how to drone airliners for benign purposes such as making them safe from human hijacking while transporting federal convicts from Hawaii, where there were no federal prisons, to the mainland US where ‘prisons for profit’ would become an excellent revenue generator for Kristine, her cronies and corrupt judges, pardon the redundancy.

Little did Agent Chips know his sister and Hillary Clinton would work with GAPAN, ALPA, FAA and United States Senior Executive Service to deploy weaponized airliners against 4 iconic targets a decade, or so, later. The coach was turned onto the M23 and the noise level was such that he could now carry on a Clipper call with Agent McDime who had a history of working with persons such as Lord Porchester who serviced the Queen so she could have a bastard named Andrew who would years later service Virginia Roberts on an airplane oft used by Epstein, a billionaire with an egg shaped penis and Bill Clinton, who suffered from Peyronie’s disease, for flying fellatio sessions with underage girls who were adept at getting a golf ball through a garden hose, if that makes sense to you. Meaning you the reader.

The phone rang at the other end and McDime picked up on the first ringy dingy, as was the protocol of active FIELD Agent working a broad, excuse me, abroad in the era of Trump-Marcy droned airliners generally considered to be 1989 through 1992.

“Chips, McDime here with several updates on the 1111 rendezvous at the Lamb and Flag Pub. In addition to Afterburner and DICE, KEANU the Kiwi and a Canuck are hoping to be at our SMEAC briefing. If you are familiar with the remote droning of military aircraft you will enjoy hearing what After Burner and DICE have to share with us.

Afterburner was married to a Royal Navy Phantom pilot who left her for a cabin rabbit but not before spilling his guts during an impressive bout of Gin swilling. He is living with another woman who writes scripts for BBC. More at the Lamb and Flag, but any questions now prior to SMEAC briefing at 1111?”

“Only one, are either of the split tails beyond child bearing years or should I bring one of those latex socks for my PTRC in case an episode of Knight action might break out after copious dosage units of adult beverages?”

“I have been told DICE is about 25 and Afterburner about 30. I have seen their photos and I promise you will be sporting a stiffy at first glance. VP tells me that one of the birds goes commando when she wears blue jeans. Perhaps we can do a VPL check once we get some LPR truth serum in the ladies. Gotta run as Agent Keanu is picking me up over in Hove, see you soon.”

The coach was engine braking going down the grade that led to the street that runs from Hove to well past the Metropole and piers, plural, not to be confused with Piers Morgan the lisping panty waste that was given the Rebekah Roth, Peter Santilli and Karen Hudes Award some 15 years later just as Chips was to become erect to ambulate towards the coach door he detected a powerful blast of methane and noticed the rotund cabin rabbit two rows ahead had rolled up on one cheek suggesting to him that KoreAnn Ashlie was the source of the offensive rectal flutter blast that sounded like some on stepping on a duck.

Once past the gas warfare zone he went forward, right and down where as he got off the coach he saw Maureen standing by the coach cargo door. Chips retrieved his two bags and as he turned to walk into the Metropole Hotel, Maureen handed him an envelope with “FYEO Agent Chips”. He did not acknowledge receipt as that might have been seen as TOO METHODICAL for KoreAnn Ashlie, methane emitter par excellence. The purser got keys for cabin rabbits and Captain Perry handed me and Granny the Plumber our room keys, mine was Room 420. As Bob and Granny went to the lift, I pretended I had to create an uni-water statue of Hillary Clinton and headed toward the lobby men’s room not to be confused with Mens Rea or gonorrhea, for that matter. Before I entered the men’s room I saw the lift had gone up with my two pilot pals and so I dragged my bags towards a comfortable lounge chair and settled to open the envelope Maureen had handed me.

A one-page note with few words was written in red. “Chips don’t go to Room 420, the Porton Down gang was in the room for one hour earlier this morning. Room 911 will be much more to your liking, Maureen” Chips made his way to a lift and once inside with his two bags and a leggy blonde, he pressed 9 and noticed the young lady push the 6 button. He thought how he’d like to push her sex button if he were not supposed to be at the Lamb and Flag in less than an hour. As she exited the lift on the 6th floor Chips got a good look at her bum and was pleased to see she displayed no VPLs so thinking as the WMPFP he wondered if perhaps an LPR or 6 would help him reach the target area with his legendary PTRC.

Continuing up to the 9th floor he exited the lift, turned to the right, and walked to Room 911. He was surprised to see the door open but went in with full confidence as Maureen was trustworthy and very liberal with the beer supply at the 5 o’clock happy hours for Continental, Delta and Northwest Airline crews.

Once in the room his attention was drawn to the 1.75 bottle of Absolut Vodka that was placed beside the ice bucket and a single Abel Danger 16 ounce shot glass. He also noticed the bed had been turned down but there was not a double breasted mattress thrasher awaiting him. No worries as he had only 37 minutes to take a Marine Corps shower, put on some foo-foo juice and repair to The Lamb and Flag.

He reversed course and was heading to the loo to void his bladder when he saw two big humps standing in the open door to Room 911. They looked like B-scale actors trying out for the cast of THE BLUES BROTHERS but their smiles and size let Chips know they were friendly. As he studied them he realized that Agents Barry M. Hall and NOTSO were providing him security. Which made him wonder, security from what. The taller of the two shut and locked the door to Room 911 and the less tall but heavier of the two pulled a legal sheet from his breast pocket and placed it on the table in the room. Across the top of the yellow legal size sheet of paper was written 5 capital letters. S M E A C. Recognizing standard Abel Danger Protocol Chips turned the sheet over and read “SMEAC brief at L&F at 1111”.

Looking up he noticed that Barry M. Hall and NOTSO had left the room. He looked at his watch and saw he had 29 minutes to walk the 5 or 8 minutes to the Lamb and Flag. He thought of the girl on the 6th floor and imagined what he might find if he were to remove her blue jeans. As his PTRC commenced turgidity elevating procedures he realized he should conclude his hygiene exercises and be on his way.

He grabbed his money clip and Clipper phone, let himself out of Room 911, hung the DND sign on the door and placed a small bit of chewing gum, Wrigley Spearmint in the deadbolt keyhole. He also placed a Happy Hooligans sticker on the top of the door where it meshed with the door jam. The lift was sent up from the lobby and once he was in he pushed the L button.

The elevator car stopped at the 6th floor and two blond bombshells joined him and a Room Service employee in the descent to the lobby. He recognized the smaller, young lady and sensing she might be a player on the other side he went to the men’s room and climbed through a window and let himself down onto a rubbish container in the alley behind the kitchen of the Brighton Metropole. He walked north, then east, got his bearings and then glanced at his $10 Walmart as he ambulated in an erect manner to the Lamb and Flag, a pub well known to be a “random meeting spot” for intel agents; good, bad and ugly.

Using standard Abel Danger tactics, as he would pass glass store fronts he would use the glass to check who might or might not be following him. He saw he was being followed by the two ladies from the elevator so to force them to “declare” he walked into a Fish and Chips outlet not to be confused with Captain Gerald DeConto USN or Lt Col Field McConnell NDANG, two alleged members of the 5 members of Annapolis ’71 who were covered by a tontine insurance policy of $30 million which would be paid to the 5th man to be alive.

However, this was impossible as DeConto was in the Class of ’79, the ‘last class with balls’. As of 27 February, 1991 only Lt. Commander Al Schauffelberger Jr. had cashed in his Chips when in 1983 he was assassinated in El Salvador while serving as a SEAL.

The two ladies walked on by, not to be confused with the 1962 record by LeRoy Van Dyke. As they crossed the street at the east end of the block, Chips returned to pedestrian duties while checking that his .357 was in his ‘plumber butt’ holster. It was.

Chips was somewhat surprised that the two ladies continued east bound until they turned down a narrow alley. Chips was starting to think like a fighter pilot and doing a three dimensional mental extrapolation that suggested there was an 83% chance that their destination may be the Lamb and Flag pub, or something in that part of Brighton near “the lanes”.

Chips’ Clipper phone vibrated signaling an incoming Clipper. He read the text message “5 minutes late, now 1116 ETA, McDime”. Chips noted the time was 1109 which was the same as his Room number in the second year of his Annapolis education where the Navy shoved a $200,000 education up the midshipmen asses one nickel at a time. This was routine prior to the class of 1980 allowing women into the institution which is why the Class Crest of Annapolis ’79 has LCWB inscribed in the design last class with balls, capeche?

The two birds turned into the Lamb and Flag at 1110 and Chips delayed briefly to walk in at exactly 1111 which, by strange coincidence was the Room at Bancroft Hall in Annapolis where he lived with John McCorkle and Craig McFarlane in academic year 1968-1969 when the SOUL SURVIVORS had a mega hit called “Expressway to Your Heart”.

Chips walked into the Lamb and Flag exactly at 1111, got his bearings, recognized Barry M. Hall and NOTSO in the south west corner from where they enjoyed good views, and shooting lanes, to both restrooms, the front door and the door to kitchen where a member of the shadow government was reported to be posing as a prep cook.

Actually, any member of the United States Senior Executive Service created by Kristine Marcy in 1979 would be more like a Prep H than a prep cook. Chips knew he should be diametrically opposed to NOTSO and Barry M. Hall, not to be confused with Barry Soetoro Punahou ‘79 who would be reborn as Barak Obama in 1994 when Kristine Marcy would use the US Visa Center to issue Barry Soetoro, Punahou ’79 a U S Passport to replace the CUKC passport he had previously as he had been born at Peace Arch Hospital, White Rock BC, Canada.

Unfortunately, the two blonds were seated at the table for six in the north east corner so Chips took the table next to them which had only 4 seats.

Chips flagged down a waitress and ordered a pint of John Courage as he noticed the smaller blond lady cross her legs in a rather unladylike manner. He enjoyed that a lot as he always enjoyed getting a glimpse such as the Beach Boys addressed in the 1983 hit “Kokomo”. Chips was somewhat surprised when she postured again giving him a second viewing of ‘paradise hall’ which can be found in Tom T. Halls 1970 hit “Fox on the Run” and Chips was thinking the blond fox would be a worthy target for his PTRC if the opportunity arose as his kickstand was doing at that time. His attention was recaged as a hand on his shoulder signaled the arrival of Agent McDime who was not alone. Chips became erect to be introduced to McDime’s mates, a Brit term for friend, generally blokes as opposed to birds.

“Chips meet Keanu from Kiwi Land and Soleman from Alberta, Canada. Keanu and Soleman, meet Agent Chips, Global Ops Director from Fargo, North Dakota.”

Chips, who had his back to the ladies, saw an old flame light in the eyes of McDime as McDime recognized the two birds, not having flown. McDime led Chips, Keanu and Soleman to join the ladies at the table for sex, excuse me, six.

“Ladies, I am McDime of the Cyprus office on secondment to Bletchley Park, my opinion is that you fine ladies are Afterburner and DICE. Might I be correct in that assumption?”

Afterburner made a hand gesture that suggested the 4 men join the two ladies at the table for sex, excuse me, six. The gents seated themselves with Chips and McDime doing a last moment switcheroo to allow Chips to seated to the right of the of the young lady, DICE, who had given him a pair of views of the target area.

Chips deferred to McDime who began the SMEAC briefing in keeping with policies in vogue at Porton Down during the month following the killing of Colonel James Sabow, USMC, who was stationed at MCAS El Toro in 1974 where Sabow and McConnell appeared in the same Marine Corps Aviation Recruiting brochure.

When Sabow had been assassinated on 22 January, 1991, some very ugly names were rumored to be involved: GHWB, Jeb Bush, General Al Gray, a General Davis, Brig. Gen. Wayne T. Adams and Porky Underwood who, due to his obesity, could not satisfy his wife but alas I digress. He also could not pass a flying physical which is quite odd for a Marine posing as a pilot. It was rumored in November, 1990 through January, 1991 that Porky’s wife did enjoy occasional liaisons with more fit and vigorous Marine pilots, capeche?

McDime began his SMEAC briefing at 1119. “Ladies and gentlemen, our Situation is that we have reason to believe the butchers of Porton Down and SAS have a relationship to the sponsors of the sloppy and unprofessional hit on Colonel James Sabow. Our ‘lady of the house’ at the Metropole observed three of their mid-grade enlisted folks in Room 420 of the Metropole this morning and we had a haz mat team sample the room prior to the arrival of the crew from Northwest Flight 44 from Minneapolis.”

“Our Mission is to infiltrate certain networks in UK industry and government including Thales, BBC, Schlumberger and military operations at Porton Down and Deepcut. We also have been tasked to determine the DNA of many of the so called bullshit Royals. We have reason to believe that Andrew and his red headed cow may be involved in the planning of an attack on U S soil sometime in the next decade, roughly.”

“To Execute our mission we will all return to our normal locations in the next 24 hours. We have electronic surveillance in Bletchley Park, SAS, Deepcut, Porton Down and the location just outside of Belfast. We have very small but powerful repeaters on most sensitive UK government buildings. We are monitoring chatter involving Hillary Clinton, Kristine Marcy, Thomas J. Smolich, Thomas Barnett, Lord Timothy Garden and his cow as well as Prince Phartingham. Our two attending ladies, Afterburner and DICE, will monitor BBC and LA Rumbold as developments occur relating to the envisioned attack on America.”

“Regarding admin and logistics, we have these packets containing salient details. For security purposes they are written in Farsi and Urdu to heighten the paranoia amongst evil witches like Hillary, Kristine, John McCain and Dianne Feinstein, the world’s most pungent and flatulent sweat hog in the pre Obama era when a transgender Sasquatch might displace the 260 pound pig from Gay Bay. Watch for a certain Barry Soetoro to be renamed Barak H. Obama and be postured to become the first gay mulatto CEO of the Corporation of the United States.”

“Communications and control will be existing Clipper, Jaspar and Festus protocols and we are confident that our involvement in Desert Storm will end tomorrow as the true purpose of the war has been analyzed and remedied by a covert response involving Russia, China and Abel Danger. Now we can conclude this SMEAC briefing and I propose we go to lunch at Brown’s or perhaps The Chilli Pickle if we determine that Vijay is in town.

Until we assemble in March, watch for chatter regarding Executive Order 12333 relating to covert action as “special activities” that the US Government will legally deny. The CIA, the 1991 Intelligence Authorization Act and in Title 50 of the United States Code Section 413(e).[2][3]. The CIA must have a “Presidential Finding” because the CIA has “SOLE” authority, our Canadian representative SOLEMAN will arrange listening arrangements in Vancouver, Montreal, Toronto and Estevan, Saskatchewan where the movie “Who Has Seen The Wind” was filmed in 1977.”

McDime became erect and ambulated towards the waitress who mouthed the words “no charge” as she pointed at Barry M. Hall and NOTSO who were exiting the Lamb and Flag and heading east towards the Lanes.

Afterburner, DICE, Soleman, Keanu and Chips arose and headed towards the door and just as he arrived at the door Chips’ Clipper Squirt Gun went off indicating an IMMEDIATE JASPAR. He pulled out the phone that had been programmed to call him, as in himself, as in he set it up. He read the stealth message and told McDime, et. al. that he was just made aware of an illness within his family and so he who have to take the afternoon to communicate from Room 911 to his family back in CONUS. Agent DICE mentioned she had a splitting migraine headache and suggested she might benefit from a warm bath and short nap.

Handshakes and hugs were shared as Chips and DICE turned to their left as the other three set off from The Lanes. After a few short blocks a light rain started to fall and as neither DICE or Chips had an umbrella, mac or plastic rain hat Chips, ever the doting gentleman, hailed a taxi and an obliging Leyland pulled over. Chips opened the door for DICE and got a closer, and longer glimpse. As his turgidity index reached adequate, the taxi driver leaned back and asked in a Brummie accent and a gay lisp, “Where to mate?”

DICE realized that Chips could not understand Brummie so she answered “Metropole Hotel”. As the taxi accelerated and turned left to go south the Brummie quipped “I hope Patrick Magee is not about today. He just about did a number on Norman Tibbitt’s wife when he was supposed to kill a different Margaret.”

The taxi driver pulled up to the Concierge desk and a tall Brit with a military ribbon on his left lapel opened the right rear door as Chips settled the fare with the gay Brummie.

“5 quid mate, and good thing it is not 2 February, 2016 or I’d have to charge you a tenor.”

Chips handed him a fiver and two pounds and was out the door to ensure the tall Brit with the military ribbon wasn’t cutting his time with Agent DICE. Chips caught up with the other two at the lobby of the Metropole and handed the tall Brit a pound for helping with the doors and not snaking his bird.

“I noticed that you have a Victoria Cross on your lapel. Were you in the Army, RAF or Royal Navy?”

“Thanks for asking, but no. My older brother Lieutenant Colonel Herbert Jones was killed at Goose Green. Our father was an artist and tried to talk my brother out of the military but could not. We miss him very dearly and so both my living brother and I honor the memory of Herb by wearing VC ribbons we have bought at memorabilia shops over the years since 1982.”

“My heart goes out to your family and my lady and I are part of a trans-Atlantic effort to bring justice in the non-combat death of Colonel James Sabow USMC who was killed 7 weeks ago at Marine Corps Air Station El Toro in California. His death was ordered by a President who is both a gay pedophile and a Nazi….”

“They infest our halls of government as well, Yank. Good luck in bringing justice, we could not get it for Herb and the people of Putney celebrate his birthday each year which is nice, but it does not bring back my brother. Enjoy your stay at the Metropole and if you need any, ANYTHING AT ALL, here is my card. Many of my mates from Deepcut and Hayling Island are available for any special projects. Good day.” The men shook hands and the Concierge tipped his top hat at DICE as he returned to his station outdoors and Chips and DICE approached the lift behind an older couple who appeared to have had their beaks in a wee bit of Bulmer’s Woodpecker Cider, or stronger. Chips looked at his ten-dollar Walmart, not imaging that 25 years later the Walmart stranglehold would begin to slip as the chain would shutter 279 stores in the southwest US to make room for a potential Hillary-FEMA operation such as those penciled in for New Orleans [ Wade Rathke ], New York [ Trump ] and Washington DC [ Kristine Marcy ]. Seeing it was 1349 he asked DICE if he should push both 6 and 9 or just one button as his caged PTRC wished to be released.

“I know where your head is at, and where it would prefer to be, but please push both and I will take a kip as I have a mild lack of chocolate headache. If Afterburner were to return and find me gone she may be concerned. Tonight at Maureen’s reception perhaps we can revisit this issue.”

As the elevator car arrived she stood on her tip toes, gave Chips a kiss and pushed a small piece of salmon index card into his mouth. Chips was not stunned but rather encouraged that this was not her first Abel Danger mission. The other couple followed DICE off to the sixth floor and went opposite direction to the path of DICE. Chips tongued the index card into his left palm and soon was at 9th floor where he felt his Clipper Squirt Gun vibrate indicating a PRIORITY FESTUS message. He walked to Room 9/11 and scanned the room with his Clipper, checked the keyhole where the gum was intact and saw the single strand of hair he had left at the top of the door jam as well as the undisturbed Happy Hooligans sticker.

Inside Room 911 Chips placed his Clipper Squirt Gun on the left side of the bed, unfolded the salmon index card as he went to the ice bucket, filled a water glass with Absolut Vodka, returned to an overstuffed Queen Anne chair and settled to listen, then read. His Clipper had recorded a message at 1353. It was brief. “Code 169A. There is a pair of on floor six to avoid. They will be at the reception tonight and expected to walk in at 1711. Please arrive before them. The bird with you is from 1970, Deepcut-FG”.

Chips then unfolded the salmon index card, or half card as it was 1.5 by 2.5. DICE had written: “Code 169A. The pair on 6 are a MUST TO AVOID. I could not allow you to follow me, nor could I follow you in both cases for security reasons. Let us meet at Maureen’s Reception at 1657 tonight. If you walk in after me, I will be at the first table to the left. I have a simple question to ask before the ‘trailers’ show up at 1711. It involves 1970, Deepcut and FG. DICE.”

Chips walked to the small fridge, pulled out two stuffed Queens, topped of his Martini with Absolut and swallowed a Rodney Baldinger NDSU Extend-O-Peter, ate a tin of Smoked Oysters and settled in the bed for a brief nap. As he relaxed to get some energy, his mind wandered slowly back to July of 1970, a port visit by the USS Guadalcanal LPH-7, a train trip to Frimley and a pub lunch with a Brigadier, his wife and the youngest of their 5 daughters. He wondered what had become of her in the ensuing 21 years. Escalating turgidity caused blood to flow from his brain to his kickstand, and the most peaceful of sleeps set upon him. His alarm was set, and so was his strategy.

In his sleep he once again returned to Frimley, the summer of 1970 and dining on Fish and Chips at the White Hart Inn where he met the Brigadier, his wife and their 4-year-old blonde daughter with the piercing green eyes. Other details in his dream caused his TI to elevate to 97%, commonly known as acceptable for knight action and his slumber was very restful, deep and pleasant. In his dream he had just about achieved his goal while regaling some young lady to Elvis’s version of THE GRASS WON’T PAY NO MIND when the shrill sound of Clipper Squirt Gun signaled to him that it was time to return to duty.

He put on some Foo Foo juice after taking a Marine Corps shower and as he placed a Navy Blue and Gold sweatshirt over his Punahou Golf shirt he peered down at the USMC Aviation Recruiting magazine of 1974 when he and Jimmy Sabow had appeared on the same page. Captain Sabow was the AC of an A6 assigned to VMA(AW) 242 while Chips had been shit canned from a Phantom squadron and sent to MCAS El Toro to serve his penitence as a co-pilot of a KC130F in VMGR-352.

He went to the door, hung the DND sign, placed some Wrigley’s Juicy Fruit in the keyhole, plucked a strand of his thinning hair from his MPB crown, placed it at the top of the door jam, repaired to the lift and pressed down as it was already descending between 11 and 10. The door opened and he joined two fellows in the car before the heavier fellow pressed L. At 6 the car halted and a single blonde woman joined the 3 men. The blonde placed a salmon colored card in his hand in a way that most would not notice but NOTSO and Barry M. Hall were well aware. They could not converse as there was a large fly on the ceiling that looked synthetic, sort of like the miniature drones in Episode 2 of Season 1 of BUGS would cover if BBC elected to pick up the option for ‘Assassins’.

Once on the lobby floor, Chips followed Afterburner towards the reception hall, followed her to the left, noticed she had no VPLs which caused him to smile. At 1658 Afterburner waved to DICE and soon the three were seated while NOTSO and the heavyweight took up position diametrically opposed in the corner with shooting lanes to the lobby door and the kitchen door.

A young waitress with and Ace of Hearts card upside down in her garter brought two pints of John Courage and a large orange juice with red swirls. Chips wondered if that was a sign that she had a visitor. Afterburner spoke first.

“While at Brown’s Restaurant we all got a message code 169A, did you two see that message yet?” DICE and Chips both nodded in the affirmative. Chips remembered he had been given an index card in the elevator and he opened it and read the short message “Chips, once the MUST TO AVOID pair walk in you are to take DICE up to Room 911 and hang a blue and gold tie on the door and then go in, assume defensive posture and consider the possibility that if the MUST TO AVOIDs follow you two up there not to panic, NOTSO and Barry M. will be in trail with the pair from Bletchley Park who will be in laundry carts at Rooms 909 and 913 along with a single housekeeping cart positioned at the door to your Room 911.”

Chips looked at his $10 Walmart and noticed it was 1709 so he showed the card to Afterburner, gave her a thumb’s up before leaning towards DICE and briefing her quietly wishing he could be debriefing her for a BDE prior to an enduro. She squeezed his left knee indicating ‘wilco’. Moments later the MUST TO AVOIDs arrived and seated themselves at the table adjacent to DICE’s table. Immediately thereafter McDime, Keanu and Soleman walked in and McDime said “DICE you have only four seats, should we ask for a table for sex, excuse me, six?”

“McDime we could but I have a headache and now that you three are here Chips will escort me to my room on the 6th floor. Please excuse the two of us and I am sure Chips will rejoin you before the free drinks end at 1800.”

Chips and DICE stood up and faced the opposite corner. Chips saw a thumb’s up from Barry M. and a chest-tap from NOTSO. He escorted DICE to the lift and once inside he pushed both the 6 and 9 buttons which gave him a good idea. During the stop at 6 a geriatric couple asked ‘Going Down’?

Chips thought ‘I hope so’ but responded, no we are going up but will send it right back to you. Chips and DICE noticed the gent was wearing a poppy like the kind grown at Kew Gardens in support of the ongoing drug business that has kept the British Empire awash in cash, at least in the days before Abel Danger became capable of killing both the Octopus and the Vampire.

Exiting at 9th floor Chips led DICE by the hand, stopped at Room 911, scanned with his Clipper Squirt Gun, checked for Juicy Fruit and hair strands, put his key in the hole thinking of another project for later. Closing the door behind DICE he locked and bolted the door and noticed DICE turning down the king size bed. He was hoping to catch a glimpse but she cupped her ear and summonsed him to join her and whispered “stay dressed, they’re coming”.

He joined her on her left side, closed the door. He reached under his pillow and drew his .357 as DICE positioned her 20 gauge coach gun both chambers with turkey load while they waited wondering what would come next, or who.

They both heard a key in the door, the door open and the chain lock being extended to the max travel position. They heard two loud thuds and suddenly. The lights in the Metropole flickered twice before the entire hotel went dark.


Gadget Bent
Copyright © 2016 by Field McConnell

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

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  • I need to share IRS Forms 205 and 206. NO ONE seems to know about them. No one to my knowledge has disclosed this

  • Hi AD crew! Wow! Great book! (Gadget Bent) Very exciting, it really sounds like a Bond movie! I was websearching all the aircraft and acronyms as I went along for the wild ride- I’ll have to remember to keep an eye out for “VPL-negatives”…
    It’s interestingly written, felt like it was dictated with ethanol on a sunny porch at times 😉
    There’s a couple of spots where the same paragraph is repeated- in one spot 3 times- thought I was losing my page/my mind… again. Oh! That part about the Kuwaiti Dinar was incredible! I’m still trying to get my grey grog sponge to fully comprehend it…
    Cheers from New Zealand, Mates!

  • Thank you for the heads up and comments.