Publisher of Rumor Mill News
INTERVIEWED BY THERESA DE VETO OF
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.
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
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
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
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
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
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.
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.
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.
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
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
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
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
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
"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
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
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,
By Teresa De Veto