Publisher of Rumor Mill News

The following is an exclusive interview conducted with Rayelan Allan, Founder/ Editor of The Rumor Mill News Agency, a web-based news magazine that was started by and for government whistle-blowers. (http://www.rumormillnews.com)

At one point in her life, Rayelan was part of the New Age community and believed she had been chosen to receive channeled messages from the star system Sirius. After a strange set of circumstances, she found herself married to a Naval Officer who at the time was also the number 3 man in the CIA. From him, she learned that the "channeled voices" were originating from a more earthly source . . . namely the Office of Naval Intelligence. Through a bizarre journey that included a trip to Austria where her husband revealed that not only was he a Knight Templar, but that the messages that had been transmitted to her in these "channeling" sessions came from ancient manuscripts the Templars had retrieved from King Solomon's Temple during the middle ages. Rayelan discovered that many New Age channels are receiving messages in the same way she received them, via modern technology. She also learned that there are several competing factions involved in these transmissions.

Rayelan's amazing story will take you beyond the world of channeling into the covert side of the U.S. Intelligence world, the New World Order, alien technology and more! This interview was conducted via e-mail over a period of months by Theresa de Veto, Founder/Editor of the web magazine Surfing the Apocalypse--on the internet:

The views expressed here are not necessarily the views of Surfing The Apocalypse or the interviewer.


Q: In 1988, your husband, John died. You moved to New York City and began teaching and giving workshops in the ACM method. You also were traveling to Washington DC to see clients and give workshops. You met Senator Claiborne Pell at this time, How did that happen?

A. A friend introduced us. She knew about his interest in Near Death Experience, and she knew that a Near Death Experience (NDE) changed my life dramatically. While I was talking to the Senator, I told him about the Activated Cellular Memory process. He wanted to experience it, so I gave him a private ACM treatment. Senator Pell had just hosted a large conference on the Near Dear Experiences. There is a book written about the conference. It is called "Proceeding of the Symposium on Consciousness and Survival. An Interdisciplinary Inquiry into the Possibility of Life Beyond Biological Death." The book was published by the Noetics Institute in Sausalito, CA. Senator Pell was impressed with my experience and the depth of my information and abilities. Each time I was in Washington, I called him. We usually met for lunch or dinner. On one visit, he told me that his committee was funding a top-secret project that dealt with a number of the things the Soviets had pioneered in the psychic world. I was familiar with the psychic work the Soviets were doing. I was very interested in his project and we discussed it several times.

At this same time, in California, Barbara Honegger was working on exposing the main scandal of the Reagan/Bush years, The October Surprise. She was helping one of the men who had just been charged with lying to a judge. The man, Richard Brenneke, had told a judge that a career CIA operative named Donald Gregg, (who had just been nominated by President Bush to become the Ambassador to South Korea), was involved in the October Surprise. All nominees for Ambassador have to be confirmed by the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. Senator Pell was the Chairman of that Committee. Because Barbara knew Senator Pell was a friend of mine, she asked me to hand deliver a packet of information regarding Donald Gregg's involvement in the October Surprise. I agreed to do this. On my next trip to Washington, I made an appointment and delivered the packet. The Senator said he would look it over and we would talk about it over dinner that evening. We went to a Thai restaurant in Georgetown. As we walked in, Senator Pell said hello to many different people.

One man, at the far end of the room, stood up, waved and said, "Hi, Senator." In other words, it was obvious that everyone there knew who he was. We sat down, looked at the menus and ordered. After the waitress left, Senator Pell pulled out the packet I gave him, dropped it in the middle of the table and began to talk very loudly and sternly. Many people would say he was yelling at me. I have rarely been talked to like this by anyone, especially a United States Senator. He was angry that I had used our friendship to try to influence his vote on Donald Gregg. His voice was so loud that everyone in the restaurant stopped eating and was staring at us. I was not about to let him ruffle my feathers or upset me. When he stopped yelling at me, I said, very politely, "Are you finished?" He nodded. In a firm voice I said, "Just because we are friends, you are saying that you do not want to know about crimes and treason being committed by high ranking government officials?" I could see that the other people in the room were riveted on our conversation. I can't remember how he responded to my question, because what he did next completely knocked me off center. In the same loud voice he had used to berate me, he said, "Do you remember that project I was telling you about? I want you to come to work for me and oversee it."

I was stunned into silence. He lowered his voice and asked me if I would become his assistant in the Foreign Relations Committee. He had earlier told me that the project was being carried in the Foreign Relations Committee budget. Knowing that we were still being watched by almost everyone in the restaurant, I told him I would think about it and give him an answer in a few days. We finished dinner with no more unusual happenings. The Senator took me home. I talked with my hostess for an hour or two and then went to bed. That evening, about 2am, the feel of someone brushing up against my neck awakened me. When I opened my eyes, I saw a man in a black cape. He was wearing a large black hat that flopped down over his face. I felt he was trying to suck blood from my neck. I was terrified and petrified. I could NOT move a muscle. I was frozen either in fear or by other means. I knew that if I allowed this man to suck my blood that I would die. Instantly I knew what I had to do. I had been taught sacred words to ward off evil. I could not speak or move, but I could think. I began thinking the words as strongly as I could.
Kadoish, Kadoish, Kadoish, Adonai Sabeyoth.
Kadoish, Kadoish, Kadoish, Adonai Sabeyoth.
Kadoish, Kadoish, Kadoish, Adonai Sabeyoth.

After the first syllable, of the word Kadoish was thought, the man in the cape quickly raised his arm to shield his face. It was as if I had hit him. With the second set of words, the man backed away from the bed. He was still looking at me, ready to strike again if he could. By the time I had finished the third set of words, my voice came back. I repeated the words out loud.
Kadoish, Kadoish, Kadoish, Adonai Sabeyoth
Kadoish, Kadoish, Kadoish, Adonai Sabeyoth
Kadoish, Kadoish, Kadoish, Adonai Sabeyoth

Each time I said them, I grew stronger. Each time I said them, the vampire grew weaker. The man, or astral body, that had touched me felt physical, I felt the touch of his hands on my neck and shoulders. But as my voice grew stronger and I was able to forcefully speak the sacred words, I saw him begin to dissipate. As he dissipated, he retreated further and further from me, as if he felt being close to me would cause him harm. He finally backed up into my closet and vanished. I stayed awake most of the night thinking about what had just happened. I knew Senator Pell had friends who were advanced enough in their psychic abilities to be able to manifest out of body and do things in their astral bodies. I believed that whoever had visited me was probably associated with the Senator in some way. The next day I called and read him the riot act. I have often wondered what the spies who tap all the phones in Washington must have thought when I accused him of visiting me in his astral body. Of course he denied that it was him, but some of the things he said made me believe he knew about it, and had possibly ordered it. During my tirade, he asked again if I was going to take the job. I told him I would give him an answer once I got back from Virginia Beach. My husband John's ashes had been scattered on Virginia Beach.

I wanted to say goodbye to him before I closed that chapter of my life and moved on. I rented a red Mustang convertible and drove from Washington DC to Virginia Beach. It was a beautiful sunny day. I put the top down and let my hair blow in the wind. It was a beautiful day, and I wanted to put the vampire completely out of my mind. When I got to Virginia Beach, I chose to stay at the Cavalier hotel, across the street from the beach. I put on my two-piece suit, grabbed my towels and walked down to sunbathe. I had not been there long when I saw two men in trench coats on a catwalk to the left of me. It was hot and sunny, why were these men wearing overcoats? When I looked at them again, they were taking pictures of me with a camera that had a long lens. I remembered that Senator Pell told me I had to undergo a background check. I figured these men were part of that background check. I decided that I looked great in my two-piece and wondered if I could ask them for copies. I lay back down and relaxed as the sun warmed and relaxed me. I was thinking about the "vampire" attack the night before, wondering if I had dreamed the whole thing, or if it had really happened.

Suddenly I felt a stabbing pain in my stomach. It was so intense it felt like someone had hit me with a hot knife. It took a while for me to recover from the pain. When I did, I noticed that I had started bleeding. I figured it was my menstrual cycle and chalked up the pain to stress. I wrapped the towel around me and used it to mop up the blood as it flowed down my leg. I hurriedly ran back to the Cavalier Hotel, trying to keep from leaving a trail of blood behind me. Once I got back to my room, I realized that the amount of blood I was losing was definitely NOT normal. I waited for a few hours to see if the bleeding would subside. It didn't. I was afraid to go to a hospital. I had been working with Barbara on the October Surprise project and I was afraid I might be killed if I went to a hospital. I wondered what to do. I realized that I needed a friend in Virginia Beach to help me, and yet I didn't know a soul. My late husband had grown up in Virginia Beach. He had dated Edgar Cayce's granddaughter. I decided to call the Cayce Institute and tell them the whole story, including the reason I couldn't go to a regular hospital. It turned out that the grandson of Edgar Cayce's doctor had just moved back to town. He was a friend of the woman I was talking to.

She arranged an appointment with him. He was able to stop the bleeding long enough for me to catch a plane and fly back to California where I could be treated by my family doctor. By the time I got off the plane, I was bleeding heavily again. The pain was unbearable. My mother drove me directly to my family doctor. He examined me and said that he felt I was suffering from an ailment called Metropathia Hemorrhagica. It is excessive uterine bleeding brought on by stress or grief. It mimics childbirth. The uterus goes into contractions. Because there is no baby to push out, the uterus pushes itself out. I had lost a great deal of blood. He advised me to get a blood transfusion. I declined the transfusion due to the fact that our blood supply was not pure in those days. He said I would have to spend about six weeks in bed. During my illness, Senator Pell called almost daily. He told me he was planning a trip to Pakistan and he wanted to take me with him as his assistant. I told him that I was too weak to go.

Q: What kept you from accepting the job with Senator Pell? Was it the so-called "vampire" attack?

A.: No. At that time, I didn't associate the vampire attack with the loss of blood that happened the next day. I didn't even associate the men on the cat walk with the loss of blood. I was planning on accepting his job offer just as soon as I was well enough.

Q: You just said you didn't associate the loss of blood with the men on the cat walk. What did you mean by that?

A: At the time, I thought they were taking pictures for my background check. But since that time, I have discovered that there are "beam weapons" that look like a camera with a long lens. Men who work for intelligence agencies believe I was hit with some kind of microwave beam.

Q: So what was it that kept you from taking the job?

A. I met Gunther Russbacher, fell in love and married him. After six weeks of bed rest, I was feeling almost back to normal. I was still very weak and could only stay out of bed for about six hours at a time. My mother asked if I felt well enough to drive her and my niece to Tacoma, Washington. I said if we could stop whenever I got tired, I could do it. As we were entering Medford, Oregon, I suddenly become so weak that I believed I was passing out. I knew I had to pull off the road and find a motel. I took the first exit. Only one motel had vacancies. There was no place else to go, and since I was so weak I was about to pass out. We stayed at that motel. We checked in about 4pm. I lay down and took a nap. At six, I woke up. My mother and I wanted to go to dinner. My niece didn't want to go, so I ordered room service for her. While we were waiting for it, I turned on the television. There had just been a horrific automobile accident a few miles north of Medford. Many people were killed in the fiery crash. My niece's dinner came and my mother and I walked down to the restaurant, to have dinner. The restaurant was roped off. It looked closed. As we started to walk away, a woman came running after us. "Do you want to eat dinner?" she asked. I said yes, and she showed us into an empty dining room.

We ordered and as we were waiting for our dinner to come, a tall, thin man approached the entrance. He stood at the entrance for a while, looking over the dining room as if he was looking for someone. The room was empty except for my mother and me. When he saw us, he came in and sat down one table away from us, in the non-smoking section. As he stood, at the entrance, I said to my mother, "I know that man. He's a navy officer. I know him from the Navy School." I thought about the first time I had ever saw him. It was at an afternoon cocktail party for visiting dignitaries. He was dressed in a dark suit, standing at parade rest, on the perimeter of the room. I said to a friend, "He looks just like Sean Connery. Do you know who he is?" My girl friend was the wife of one of the other Deans. We walked over to talk to him. He fidgeted and squirmed and barely answered any of our questions. A few moments later, our husbands came over and led us away. I later found out that he was there as bodyguard for one of the dignitaries After he seated himself in the restaurant, the first thing he did was light a cigarette. I quickly reminded him he was in the non-smoking section. Instead of getting up and walking away, he put out his cigarette. By that time, the waitress had brought him a glass of California house wine. He tasted it and complained bitterly to me and to the waitress. I sarcastically said, "It's obvious you don't know anything about wine" He puffed himself up and declared, "My family has been in the wine business for six hundred years. I know EVERYTHING about wine." I replied in a condescending voice, "It's obvious they weren't making wine in California or you would know better that to order HOUSE wine!"

He was silent for a moment. It looked like he was thinking about wringing my neck. He then turned to my mother and asked, "Is she always like this?" My mother nodded her head and said, "Yes" Then he looked at me again. "Don't I know you?" "Yes" I answered, copying the shy way in which my mother had answered. Then, with much agitation he started shaking his finger at me saying, "You . . . you're . . . you're that DEAN'S wife. What's his name . . . Dyer? You're Dean Dyer's wife!" I shook my head yes. I knew he couldn't have forgotten me. I first met him in the mid 70s. Each time he came to the Navy School after that, I loved to tease him. He was so solemn and all business. I loved saying things I knew would get a reaction from him, such as, "I don't see why the Navy won't let women fly planes or be on submarines." I could literally see steam coming out of him as he stifled his response so he wouldn't offend the Dean's wife. There were many of those kinds of moments, but the moment I remember him best was in the early 80's. The Naval Postgraduate School was getting a new Superintendent. The new man was Commodore Robert Shoemaker. Commodore Shoemaker had been a POW in Viet Nam. He was one of the men who had been held the longest by the North Vietnamese. The post at the Navy School was his first command position since being released from the Hanoi Hilton.

The installation was one of the most formal ones that I had attended. It was held on the lawn in front of the main building of the Navy School. The Navy School had been the Old Del Monte Hotel, where kings and queens, movie stars and famous people from all over the world used to vacation. The architecture is a Spanish four story white building with a red tile roof. The installation was being held on the outside bandstand. Around the perimeter, there was a sea of naval officers in their dress blue uniforms. Each had a sword at his side. There were more officers than normal at this installation. Many former POWs had come to pay their respects to Commodore Shoemaker. I found out later that Gunther was at the installation because he had been a POW in the undeclared war in Laos. After the ceremony was over, my husband, John had to get his briefcase from his office. We walked into the main building and up the stairs to the mezzanine where the Deans' and Superintendent's offices were. While my husband went into his office to get his briefcase and make a few phone calls, I went into the ladies' room. After fixing my hair and putting on more lipstick, I started to step out the door into the long hall that led to my husband's office. As I opened the door I saw two Navy officers. They were in their dress blues and having a sword fight. One of them was a much better sword fighter than the other one. He quickly knocked the sword out of his opponent's hand.

Another officer came running up with two glasses of cognac. He gave them to the swordsmen. The winner raised his glass, as if he meant to toast the loser, but instead he turned to me. I was still frozen in the doorway. He came over, put one hand on the wall near the door, and raised his glass. He was so close to me I could see the hairline scar above his lip. I was uncomfortable, almost frightened. He was so forward. I was not used to this kind of treatment from Navy officers. At that moment, my husband, John came out the door of his office. He saw what was going on and said to the man, "That's my wife sailor, touch her and you're a dead man." John then grabbed me by the arm and pushed me down the hall ahead of him, As we quickly walked away, I asked John who the man was. "He's a spook from DC. Don't have anything to do with him." John had never said that about anyone before. Needless-to -say, it made me even more curious as to who this Naval officer really was. Now, here he was, in Medford, Oregon, sitting next to me in a restaurant. He admitted that he never knew my first name and I admitted I never knew his last name. He introduced himself to me as "Gunther Russbacher". "Gunther?" I said, "I remember you as "Bob". He looked uncomfortable for a moment and replied. "My mother was Austrian. When we came to this country after the war she would introduce me as her "bobby". She couldn't say "baby". The Americans thought my name was "Bobby" and it stuck. As I got older, I became "Bob". It sounded like a reasonable explanation. I didn't question it at the time. I later found out that Bob was the nickname of his Navy Intelligence alias, Captain Robert Andrew Walker.

As we talked, I realized that the spark of joy I always felt when I saw him was still there. There was fascinating chemistry between us that had never been explored. After we finished dinner, he asked if we would join him for a nightcap. My mother said she needed to get back to the room to be with her granddaughter. I agreed to meet him in the cocktail lounge after I walked my mother back to her room. I returned to the bar and stood in front, about to open the door. There was a small window next to the door. Through the window I saw Gunther. I heard his voice as he laughed and joked with the men who were with him. Then, out of no-where, I was stopped in my tracks. I heard a voice, as clearly as I could hear the voices in the bar. It said, "If you go through that door, your life will change forever. Are you strong enough?" I thought about everything I had just been through. Losing a husband, moving from a small town to New York City, being attacked by a vampire and almost bleeding to death. I figured if I could go through all of this and survive, I could go through anything. I pulled open the door and entered. Gunther saw me and motioned me to a table away from the men in the corner. A waitress came to take our orders. She was awfully curious about who I was and why I was there. I answered all of her questions and she left. She returned with my beer and his cognac. It took me a year to figure out that she was not a waitress.

Her name was Marilyn. She was an Air Force Colonel and part of Gunther's team. After she left, Gunther lifted his glass and said, "Once a Templar . . ." I quickly raised my glass, smashed it into his, in the traditional Templar toast, and finished the toast for him ". . . always a Templar!" He looked startled, "How did you know that?" "I am a student of esoteric history and the Templars are my main interest. I have researched them for years. I have even lectured on the Templars at the United Nations." I boasted. He looked at me and said, "You may think you know about the Templars, but no one knows the truth about the Templars. No one." I was just about to argue with him, when suddenly, he began to physically change. This was long before the term "shape shifter" came into use. I could not believe what was happening to him. There in front of me, a slim, balding man with dark brown hair began to bulk up with muscles. His brown eyes became blue, his dark, thinning hair became blonde, thick and wavy. I could not believe what I was seeing. He looked at me with a look that seemed to be a million light years away. He lowered his voice and whispered, "I am Atalon, and you are my other half. I have searched the combined universes for millions of years. Now that I have found you, NO ONE will EVER be able to separate us." I was floored. There could have been no way he could have known about The Obergon Chronicles and Atalon. At that time, only a handful of people had read the story. He quickly came back to normal and asked, "What the hell happened?" I didn't know how to answer him. I was so upset and knocked off center by what had just happened, that I decided to change the subject and ignore what had just happened. Gunther had just become Atalon, the soul that was created to join with my soul, as I had written back in my Obergon Chronicles. Atalon was the soul who was my other half. I had been searching for him for years.

Now that I found a man who said he was Atalon, I was so overwhelmed that I quickly changed the subject, and tried to pretend that the "Atalon" part of him had never appeared. I searched for something to ask him in order to change the subject. When we were in the restaurant, Gunther said he was an assistant U.S. Attorney out of Denver. My friend Richard Brenneke, who was part of the October Surprise, had just been charged with perjury by the U.S. attorney in Denver. I wanted to ask Gunther some questions about the case. What I did not know was I was jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire… or line of fire! I said, "If you're a U.S. attorney out of Denver, you must know Richard Brenneke." I was not prepared for his response. The strong and confident man, who sat across from me, collapsed into a shaking puddle of tears. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. One moment he 'shape shifts' into a handsome young man who says he is my other half, and now he crumbles into a fetal position and cries. I could hardly believe this was the same Naval officer who always seemed to "in control" at the Naval Postgraduate School.

Gunther tried to gain control himself by grabbing the edge of the small cocktail table. He grabbed it so hard he made the table shake just as he was shaking. Tears 'spurted' from his eyes as he tried to speak. He said haltingly, through the tears, "I know Richard. I love Richard. They're framing Richard." I could not believe it. The emotion in his voice told me that not only did he KNOW Richard, but he cared about Richard, like a friend or brother. All I could say, was, "You really DO know Richard," "Richard's my cousin. We were raised together in Winnemucca." I knew Richard was from Winnemucca, so I figured Gunther was telling me the truth. How could anyone fake this kind of emotion? "Richard's being sacrificed." he said. "What do you mean?" I asked. "Lower your voice." Gunther cautioned me. "Those assholes in the corner are FBI." Gunther and I spent the rest of the night talking. About 5 am he said, "Let's get married." I could hardly believe I said yes. I didn't even know him. Yes, we had friends in common, and yes, we were both used to the navy life. But he was a stranger to me. I couldn't believe that I had agreed to marry a stranger. But even as I thought this, the thought vanished. I remembered the way he 'shape shifted' into Atalon, and I realized that I had finally found my other half. What did it matter if I didn't know him. We were brother and sister, the children of the Great Lord Odon. Here before me, in a hotel in Oregon, was the soul mate I had dreamed about my whole life. After finally finding him, was there any doubt we would marry? Several days later, we were in Tacoma Washington. He said he had called his boss earlier and requested permission to marry me. He said the answer would be coming, via the phone, any minute. The telephone rang. It was a friend of his, from the CIA, who had done the background check on me. The friend told Gunther there was no way we would be cleared to marry. He friend read off the list of reasons. After Gunther was told that my best friend was Barbara Honegger, he looked at me and said, "You're Barbara Honegger's best friend?" I nodded yes and watched him slap himself in the forehead.

He turned back to the phone. He listened for a few more minutes, then turned to me again. "Did you try to rob a jewelry store in New York City?" "Of course I didn't," I protested. "Well the FBI has that in your record." "What jewelry store?" I asked "The one in the Plaza Hotel," he replied. I had only been to the Plaza once. I knew the day that I had been there. A girl friend had taken me there to see the necklace she was going to talk her boyfriend into buying for her. I later found out that her boyfriend was an old friend of Gunther's. Their fathers had known each other in Germany during the war. "How did the FBI know that I was there at that time?" I asked. He repeated the question over the telephone. A few minutes later Gunther turned to me and asked, "Were you just about to go to work for Senator Pell?" I shook my head yes. "He was having you checked out for a security clearance." "What do you mean?" I wanted to know. "You were being followed by the guys who do background checks." Gunther replied. "You passed your background clearance for working for a Senator, but NOT for being my wife. Your friendship with Barbara Honegger is going to cause us problems." "What do you mean my friendship with Barbara is going to cause us problems?" I asked him. Gunther replied, "They told me we have to wait two years before they will even give us an answer. This is the policy after someone like me gets divorced and wants to marry again." I didn't think about it at the time, but he never answered my question about Barbara. He quickly added, "Or we can get married in the morning and face the consequences later." The next morning we flew to Reno in his private Learjet and were married. We returned to the plane and headed back to Washington. The pilots had bought us a bottle of wine. Gunther opened it and poured us each a glass. We were sitting together on the back seat of the Learjet buzzing with happiness and excitement. The pilot's voice interrupted us. "Chief," I heard him say, "Our air space has been violated, we've been ordered to arm." I couldn't have heard him right. Did he say "ordered to arm?" The telephone in the back of the plane was not working. Gunther got up and went forward to talk to the pilot. I followed Gunther to the cabin and listened as the pilot told him our air space had been invaded by a small prop job. They had been ordered to arm. Gunther looked out the windows. The Learjet had fuel tanks on the wings. Gunther said earlier that they were there so the jet could make it to Europe without refueling. There was no reason for me to think any differently . . . until now. I saw the front of the fuel tank slowly open. I saw missiles moving out of the pod. A thousand questions filled my mind. What kind of a plane was I flying in? Who had I just married?

This fascinating, lengthy interview is continued in The Universal Seduction, Volume One
By Teresa De Veto


The Universal Seduction Book Series
More excerpts from The Universal Seduction
Surfing the Apocalypse
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