I’m not usually a suspicious guy. But lately, things have been getting a little weird. It all started with my blogs about the General’s story. I know that a lot of people won’t believe them but that’s okay by me. I know what I was told. I believe everything that the General told me. If you’d been there, and seen the look in his eyes, you’d believe it too. ‘Nuff said.

But back to the weird stuff. I got home the day after I posted the third part of the General’s story and looked at my computer screen. I usually turn my computer off when I go to work. So I get in the door and I see my computer is on. “That’s odd”, I say to myself. I took off my jacket and walked over to my computer. I see that a document is open on my desktop. I have several word processor programs on my computer. The one that I never use was open. That sent shivers up my spine.

I wondered if the person who had done this was still in my home. I hadn’t checked every room. I keep my pool cues by the apartment door. I grabbed my heaviest cue and slowly pushed open the bathroom door. Nobody there. Whew. I looked into the kitchen and it, too, was clear. Double whew. The bedroom was a problem because if someone was there, they were going to get the drop on me. They were going to see me before I saw them.

I decided to pick up my cell phone and called a friend of mine. I stood in the middle of my living room a moment. I casually mentioned that I was at home, alone, just calling to see how they were. I figured that I could keep talking while I went into my bedroom. That way, if anything went wrong, my friend would know and call the police. Cell phone in one hand and pool cue in the other, I stealthily moved toward the bedroom door. I couldn’t see much from the outside. There was nothing to do but go in. Just as I stepped in, I heard a new voice on my phone. It said, “There’s nobody there, Dennis.” My bladder control was sorely tested at that point. I’m not kidding. My friend, John, had meanwhile kept on talking. I interrupted.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“You didn’t hear her?”

“Hear who?”

No help there. And since there were no bad guys under my bed, I hung up. Moments later, my cell rang again. But it wasn’t my usual ring tone. It was the 60s tune, Secret Agent Man. I answered.

“It isn’t polite to hang up in the middle of a conversation.”

European, Holland or Belgium maybe. Female. Very female. Low enough to be sexy but not so low it sounds like your grandfather.

I looked at the call display. The phone number was 000-000-0000.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“So many questions, Dennis. But I really must dash. You’re mobile isn’t secure. Just check the message I left on your computer, which isn’t very secure either, by the way.” And she hung up.

I went back to my computer. There were just a couple of sentences.

“The Bilderberg group is not involved. You’re being followed. Check the UN press releases for the next week. I’ll be in touch if and when I can .”

She was right about me having questions. Like what the heck is a Bilderberg? Followed by whom? UN Press releases? Why can’t she be in touch whenever she wants? What’s her name? Does she look as hot as she sounds?