According to the GPS detector I have in his car, the fellow I nicknamed The Servant has been conducting surveillance on the site on and off for two weeks. I think the BH has been living there. Tonight, he ventured out to visit a kind of classy bar. Having been burned last time, I didn’t try to get up close and personal, but parked a block away and watched with binoculars. This is what I saw. I don’t get it.
Around ten at night, the BH comes out of the bar into this alley (which I took a photo of afterwards, not at the time):
As he comes out, a blond woman in her late twenties starts talking to him. He looks a little interested, not terribly. They don’t stand all that close. But she has his attention. Then he slumps and looks like he’s going to fall. He’s a big guy, and she’s not, but she catches him and holds him up. Seconds later — and I mean seconds — an ambulance pulls up and official looking EMTs haul him in. Naturally, I follow the ambulance, from a heavily discrete distance.
The ambulance drives around for about fifteen minutes and then pulls off into what looks like a totally unused parking garage. I don’t see what happens inside, but a black Mercedes SUV a lot like the BH’s own pulls out so quickly afterwards I happily abandon the ambulance and follow it instead. It drives back to the bar, and two guys in suits manhandle the BH out of the Mercedes right back to where he was standing before. The young blond lady comes out of the car and takes her same position too.
He’s slumping, but then he unslumps when(I think) one of the guys stabs him with something. They talk for about thirty seconds and then he leaves her and gets back in his own Mercedes and drives home.
My impression is that he didn’t even know any time had passed!
Keep in mind this guy is ex-CIA, ex-MI-5, all that. He’s not an easy target. I think they kidnapped him to do some kind of medical procedure, and he didn’t even know it happened. Did they implant a bomb? A GPS tracker? A bug? A mind-controlling device? Or just give him a flu shot? What the heck? — Flyss