LIFE AS PEGASUS
I Had a Dream
By Gene Tatum
I had a dream. A dream so intense, a dream so real, that I could
swear that it was true. Have you ever experienced such an event?
I have often wondered what factors or group of events initiate
such intense dreams. Perhaps media coverage of an event prompts
the thought process in a particular direction, or perhaps an
innocent comment heard during the course of a day initiates the
dream. Some would be so bold as to boast that it was a
spiritually guided premonition of events to come. After hearing
of my dream, my wife told me that she thought it was the
spaghetti and caramel pudding that the prison fed us for dinner
that acted as the catalyst. Whatever prompted the dream, I
suddenly found myself flying ten feet above the ground, in an
armed military style helicopter, chasing a radio signal in
southern Mexico. "Your target will be transmitting on 46.10
MHz," Lt. Col. North said as he briefed the Archer Team. "Mr.
Nir (speaking of my friend Amiram "Ami" Nir) is considered a
renegade by the Mossad and they have asked us to bring him down."
"Are there any further questions before you depart?" Colby
asked. That ended the meeting that brought four Archer members
and a Pegasus(1) pilot to Southern Mexico.
The dream was getting clearer and clearer. The plan called for
the team of Archers to assassinate Mr. Nir at a packing plant
outside of Morelia, Mexico. Ami had scheduled a business meeting
at the plant and our intelligence indicated that resistance would
be minimal and access optimal. I had just dropped off "The
Major" (codename for the Archer leader) and was on my way to the
laager point to await the signal to return to the pick up zone
for the team when the mission was complete. I smiled as I
thought of the conversation I had with Ami the day after we were
given the mission.
Amiram Nir was the advisor on terrorism to the Israeli Prime
Minister. With those credentials it was a natural for George
Bush to accept Mr. Nir as his advisor on arms trading with the
terrorist nations of Iran, Iraq, and Libya. What Ami did not
know was the involvement of Bush and others in the manufacturing
of drugs in exchange for weapons throughout the world. As Mr.
Nir worked with Vice President Bush, and Oliver North, an
Assistant to the National Security Advisor to Mr. Reagan, his
involvement in Bush and North's drug manufacturing enterprise,
though unintentional, grew. Amiram Nir, a/k/a Pat Weber, had
been involved with Mr. Bush since 1977 in various projects. It
would be an understatement to say that the ex-director of the CIA
and now Vice President of the United States trusted Ami.
"What made him want you dead?" I asked Ami as we planned his
"I simply know too much and they're scared little boys playing
with real men's toys," Ami answered as he sipped a glass of
cabernet sauvignon and smiled. "Now Chip, it must look very
real. Your Archers are much too good to fool easily," he
bragged. "They were trained by us you know!"
"Yep," I answered. "Harari told me of the training, and offered
me a slot. I passed on it though. What will you do?" I asked.
"Where the hell will you go? How will you live?" I wondered out
"That's my problem," he answered. "For now it's important that
these documents, audios and videos, are preserved. I have made a
copy of everything for you and have kept the originals. We must
be patient in their use. Timing will be critical," he explained.
Together we had reconned the area and found a good site to stage
a plane crash. "It's important that my body is not identifiable.
For this purpose I will have an assistant identify my body. I
will be removed immediately and all will be well my friend," he
said as I flew him back to Morelia. I offered Ami my hand as we
parted, but received a hug instead.
The plans were made. A transmitter on 46.10 MHz was planted in
his luggage and he planted an additional transmitter in his
briefcase. He then sent the briefcase to the airport with a
female assistant. She chartered a Cessna T-210 and directed it
to make an emergency landing to a remote area of ranch land. As
the Archers attempted to triangulate and confirm the location of
the signaling device, a second signal suddenly appeared. It was
moving at a high rate of speed toward an airstrip. The Major
radioed me and advised me of the movement. He asked me to fly a
recon and attempt to locate the source. During my recon I
notified him that it seemed to be coming from any one of several
people boarding a single-engine aircraft. He ordered me that if
it took off, shoot it down. I rogered and flew off to the east,
awaiting the departure of the Cessna T-210. I armed a rocket and
waited. Ami and I had decided that I would fire a sidewinder and
remotely detonate it so that the missile did not pose a threat to
the T-210. But the explosion would serve its purpose to fool the
Archers into thinking that the plane was downed. The aircraft
departed and I took off in quick pursuit. Ten feet off the
ground I nosed up and fired the sidewinder. I then leveled off
and detonated the missile in mid-air. I contacted the Major and
advised him that the aircraft was down. He in turn advised me
they heard the explosion and ordered me to recover all teams. We
flew to a high point for a physical recon of the crash site from
a distance. Happy with the results, the Major ordered the
mission complete. A 1988 newspaper article stated that the pilot
and a passenger in the front seat were killed. The passengers'
name was Pat Weber. The others aboard the aircraft survived,
including a woman who had been traveling with Mr. Weber as his
secretary. The bodies of Pat Weber and the pilot were removed
from the wreckage and taken to local authorities where they were
immediately released without being processed (ie. fingerprints,
footprints, and photos). I heard Ami's laugh echo, saying it's
amazing what a thousand American dollars will buy in Mexico.
Then, as dreams go, a period of time passed. More assassinations
of associates involved in Iran Contra were ordered. Faces of
those men floated in a dark expanse. First General Gustov
Alverez, the Honduran Army Chief of Staff in charge of overseeing
the cocaine manufacturing facilities in Honduras, came into
focus. As he faded, the face of Enrique Bermudez floated in
front of the General. Enrique was the Contra commander in charge
of the "North" camps. These "North" camps were named for their
creator, Oliver North, and were capable of producing three tons
of high grade cocaine a month. William Casey was the next face
floating in the expanse. As the Director of the CIA, it was
Casey who provided a number of field agents and Langley-based
personnel to support the drug facilities. Agents like Joe
Fernandez, Claire George, and Dewey Clarriage were working at
Casey's direction. The face Amiram Nir was next. He asked me
how $50,000 per year intelligence agents could amass the fortunes
that Fernandez, George, and Clarriage owned. He then smiled and
asked if I was enjoying my prison food. He told me that I should
offer the tapes and documents as a trade for my freedom. I, in
turn, told him that I had offered the tapes and documents for a
suitcase with $5 million and several "get out of jail free"
cards. (Monopoly anyone?) But those who put me here were not
interested. As Ami's face began to fade into the darkness, he
told me it was time to show the world our little surprise. He
said, speaking of the tapes, documents, and videos we had
compiled through the years, "I'll see you in October my friend."
I woke up. It was so real.
Now we're back to the original question. What do you think
causes these very real dreams we experience from time to time?
I'm not sure. But it could very well be, in my case, the
anticipation of what's to come caused by a hell of a good seed
planted years before among friends and allies finally producing
the first of many blooms. A dream? Or reality? I'll wait for
Ami's "October Surprise".
(1)Pegasus is the codename for an international intelligence
network which is directed by an international board of directors.