BRINGER OF DEATH MARLENE AGUILAR for mother earth... First Edition 2013 Produced and published by Jamayco Publishing House © 2013 Marlene Aguilar All rights reserved. Author: Marlene Aguilar Editors: Josephine Queipo Design and layout: Alexander Pascual, www.alexdesigns.ph Typeset by Rainbow Graphics and Printing Co. Ltd. Printed and bound by Paramount Printing Co. First edition Address book orders to Jamayco Publishing House Website: www.marleneaguilar.com E-mail address: [email protected] No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means nor may any part of this publication be stored in a database or other electronic retrieval system without the prior written consent of the publisher. The publisher assumes no responsibility for any errors or omissions contained in this publication. vi Contents Chapter 1. My Mentors ....................................................................... 1 Chapter 2. Wes Penre ......................................................................... 62 Chapter 3. A New World .................................................................. 110 Lilith and the Beast ........................................................................ 151 When I found you .......................................................................... 162 Chapter 4. Under Siege ..................................................................... 163 You ............................................................................................. 213 Chapter 5. Until the End of Time ..................................................... 218 Prey ............................................................................................. 239 Chapter 6. Super Sanity ................................................................... 278 Jason the Knight ........................................................................... 299 Chiari’s Song ................................................................................. 300 I Will March ................................................................................. 306 The (online) cult of Jason Ivler ......................................................... 316 OPEN LETTER ............................................................................. 319 Giver of Time ................................................................................ 345 Acknowledgement ............................................................................ 347 Photos .............................................................................................. 348 Books by Marlene Aguilar ................................................................ 356 Non-Fiction Books by Marlene Aguilar ............................................ 357 vii I have seen the true face of evil. Thanks to the US government. Marlene Aguilar ix Chapter 1 My Mentors October 27, 2011. I have not been able to write since a male friend of mine, named Dwayne disappeared from my life, January of this year. I was informed he died. I started working on this book in 2009. I stopped for a while after 100 heavily armed men raided my home. I was told by an NBI agent (local for FBI) that then President of the Philippines, Gloria Macapagal Arroyo had ordered these men to shoot to kill me and my son Jason Ivler. I have so much to tell you; it could fill two books the size of this, now I do not know where to begin. My life has been so tragic, so extreme, so bizarre, so violent, so gravely painful, and yet at the same time, it has been so exciting, adventurous, touching, and so beautiful, I wouldn’t change anything. Let me wipe away my tears, and gather my “selves” together. In case you forgot, I have several personalities. It is the first time I have taken a vacation. The first time since the summer of the year 2009, when I met Howard Marks at the Marriott Hotel in Bristol, England. “Marlene,” he said gently to me, with eyes peering into my soul, trying to give me comfort. His 1 MARLENE AGUILAR love ever so present. “The CIA could kill you and I in the next 20 minutes. And there’s nothing we could do about it. Can’t you see,” he continued, “we are alive only because we’re kept alive, and for good reason. We haven’t served our purpose.” Coming back to the present. We have decided to get away. It’s never easy for us to choose a place to stay. I’ve done a lot of traveling and will continue to do so, but I don’t like tourist destinations. The last thing I want to see when I’m on vacation is a horde of over- excited and badly dressed strangers flashing their stupid cameras all in the face of the rest of mankind. I avoid tourists like the plague. I would rather take a bullet than go on a cruise. Imagine me being with the same people for long periods of time, trapped out there in the middle of the Atlantic ocean. I couldn’t bear to be with people who travel for the purpose of shopping as gratification, taking photos to capture proof of their existence, and desperate to find anyone to talk to but their own family! I hate them. Steve and I were planning to travel abroad later this year, but we will go when others do not. I loathe the hotel chains too. I’d prefer staying in an ancient villa that’s been converted to a boutique hotel with very few rooms. These accomodations are precious for people like me who treasure their privacy. We thought of going to Cebu, Palawan or Batangas. We chose the latter. So yesterday, Maya, Steve and I were driven over three hours south of Manila to a place called Anilao, one of the best diving sites in the Philippines. A dear friend of mine, Dr. Jun Javier had recommended a small resort called Casita Isabel for us to stay. Linda Romualdez, a friend of Jun’s, owns the place. He visits the place when he needs to get away from the overcrowded city of Manila. 2 BRINGER OF DEATH Along the way, we passed other resorts in Anilao located on the beach, so closely cramped to one another, built for absolute commercial consumption and without any respect for the natural environment. The sight of these dwellings gave me a feeling of disgust, my hatred for mankind’s greed and stupidity vomiting to the surface. Why would anyone go on vacation, only to be surrounded by so many people? Why would I go to a crowded place during my break? What is wrong with man that he has no respect for the earth? Luckily, we passed all the ugly commercial resorts catering to the uncaring masses and continued along a winding road, lined with tropical forests on both sides in certain parts. As we traveled on, the road narrowed, the island became more isolated, and the presence of nature dominated. Thank God. Eventually, we reached our destination. Whoever built the small resort has a soul, a soul in one with the earth. Casita Isabel feeds one’s spirit. It was built from a labor of love. And I feel fortunate we found it. Plus we had the entire place to ourselves. Heaven smiled upon us. Therefore, today, October 27, 2011, I sit on the terrace on the upper level of our cottage, fronting the magnificent Pacific Ocean, listening to the waves crashing over the rocks, as I continue to tell you the story of my life. I wonder what I should tell you first. So much has happened since I finished writing Warriors of Heaven and Tales of the Black Widow. So much, too much, has happened during the last year and a half. What do you want to know? Who do you want first? Is it Caesar or Gabriel? Is it Marcus or Howard Marks? Then suddenly, a void embraced me. My mind was blank. 3 MARLENE AGUILAR I looked out into the sea. I stared at nothing. Slowly, I noticed that the smashing waves had calmed down, now forming small ripples on the water, gently swaying around the rocks. And I think of my son Jason. I see him. I think of the moment I first laid my eyes upon him when he was born. He looked to me like an angel who had come down from heaven. I felt such overwhelming love for him at first sight. It was a love I had never known until I saw him. Jason - my first-born, my light, and my best friend. He brings out the best in me and gives me reason for being. Jason has filled my life with love and understanding, a love and understanding I’ve never known from anyone. How can I describe the pain, as he has become the price for my defiance? And tears fall from my eyes as I think back to the past, a past filled with the sound of guns blazing, bullets flying around me. Heavily armed men surrounded us; evil men who screamed death and murder in my own home. It is a past filled with deception, blood and horror, a nightmare. And now, a dark ocean filled with blackness and pain grips my heart, a heart destroyed, bleeding, each piece screaming for truth, justice and vengeance. Then I hear the soothing sound of the water flowing from Mother Ocean nourishing my heart. The splashing waves comforts me. I look to my left and far beyond the old acacia tree. I see a fisherman, a man in his early 50s with the most beautiful dark bronze skin, as he walks toward my wooden cottage, sporting a tired blue T-shirt and a tattered, dark grey baseball cap, black trousers, black rubber slippers, grabbing his white nylon fishnet with both hands. Suddenly, he stops, gives me a quick glance then stares seriously into the water. To my right, I see the white boat carrying Steve, Maya and our driver Jojo. They had gone out fishing earlier this morning after we had our breakfast, together with three other men, to Maya’s desire. 4 BRINGER OF DEATH She had never gone fishing before. In my mind I continued to process the information about my past. I think of the Philippine government, and the US government and their ugly existence. For someone who utterly abhors the institution, how the hell did I end up so involved in the dirty game of politics when my pure intention was to run from it? I hear the voice of the Buddhist oracles inside my head, speaking as one, saying the same thing they’ve repeated over and over for 20 years. “You cannot run from your fate. No matter which path you take, all roads will lead you to Rome. Accept it. You were born to lead.