I had a follow-up appointment to my factious interview with Ron at Big Blue, Scientology’s main foothold in LA. I drove alone in Rohanda’s car. Jacob gave me a cell phone converted into a one-way mic so that he could keep tabs on me.
The walk from my car into Big Blue was nerve racking. The stories that Jacob had told me kept cycling through my head. My legs quivered as I walked down the block towards the giant eyesore of a church. I remembered the autumn air. It was cool, clean, and odorless.
I passed a group of protesters in masks. They held signs that said things like, “The cult took my daughter.” Two of the protesters recorded video of the building and the protest on their smart phones. This was common for protestors that did their homework. Scientologists hated being filmed and always figured a way to legally destroy anyone who messed with them.
Sure enough, I spotted Scientologists stationed around the protest. With old fashion video cameras, they overtly spied on the protestors. One sat across the street in a parked car, another perched on a bike. It was like some kind of weird staring contest where both sides were just trying to irritate the other.
My eye caught Jacob strolling down the street as I entered the front courtyard of Big Blue. He posed as a pedestrian. A protestor hollered at me, telling me it was a trick. Distracted, I lost sight of Jacob
The inside was clean and austere. The entrance opened into an octagon with tall a ceiling and open flooring. Classy wood lined the floors and accented the white walls, doorways, and railing. An eight pointed golden cross was set above the reception desk. An overly energetic woman greeted me. She wore a black business dress with a red scarf. The receptionist knew my name before I introduced myself. She told me how exciting my life was going to become once I was cleared.
I told her what Jacob had scripted for me. I told her that I felt like my emotions kept me from being happy, like God wasn’t on my side even though I’ve see his angels. I had to look out for myself because no one else was.
She told me I had come to the right place.
After exorbitant amount of paperwork, I was invited into my first auditing session. This meant I had to be hooked up to an e-meter. The receptionist took me down a beautiful hall to an equally rich small room. The elegant paneled entrance led to light pale walls There was a desk, two leather chairs, and the e-meter. There were no windows. She had me take a seat and wait for the auditor.
The auditor arrived in short order. He was a lean, good looking man who wore a black and white suit with a red tie. His outfit was similar to the receptionist’s.
I engaged in conversation as Jacob instructed me to do.
Me: I’m a little anxious.
Auditor: There’s nothing to be nervous about. This isn’t about finding your secrets; it’s about facing your fears, the things that keep you from unlocking your potential. You need to be cleared. Grab the e-meter and close your eyes.
Me: Who were those guys working in the hall way? They had RPF on their shirts.
Auditor: I don’t think the Rehabilitation Project Force wears their letters.
Me: What were they doing?
Auditor: They’re just on work detail. Shall we begin?
Me: Do they live here?
Auditor: They live here. Their dormitory is on the second floor in the other wing. Most are at least OT4’s. One needs a lot of tech to have the honor of staying here.
I got the information that Jacob needed. My auditor flipped the switch on the e-meter. The needle buried. The auditor pushed a button underneath the desk. Three scientologists rushed into the room. They politely asked me to stand and searched me with a metal detector wand. The auditor took out my mic’ed smart phone and threw it on the table. He ordered everyone to leave the room.
They left and locked the door. My smart phone was gone. I waited like Jacob had told me. Thirty minutes must’ve gone by.
Ron, Jacob’s contact, stormed into the room. I had never seen him before, so I didn’t know for sure that it was him right away. I only knew he was a Scientologist based on his clothing.
Ron took the auditor’s seat across from me. Once he sat down, he started to conduct another audit, but it was fake. He told not to say anything. While our conversation was not being recorded, we were being videotaped. The camera was behind him and they could not see his lips. He could freely talk, but I couldn’t. He assured me that the door was not in the camera angle, and I had roughly twenty minutes after his secondary audit to pick the lock, run down the staircase, and let Jacob into the building through the side fire exit. All the halls are videotaped, but there were no active alarms on the doors.
After completing the fake audit for show, Ron left. The Scientologists had planned on breaking down my will by leaving me in isolation for countless hours after a grueling second audit. It was their standard procedure designed to breakdown new converts.
As soon as Ron left the room, I ran to the locked door and started to pick the lock. Jacob had given me a plastic lock pick set. My college pranking skills came in handy again.
I did what I had been told. I sprinted down the hallway, down a staircase, and I opened the fire door for Jacob just like we planned. Jacob nodded to me and took off running into the building. Every camera in the place was on him. The Scientologists would be on him in minutes. I ran back to the room, but I was too late. The four Scientologists and Ron were waiting for me.
They handcuffed me and escorted me through the building to the RPF area or Rehabilitation Project Force. It was their surface name for the group to be reintegrated back into society. We didn’t walk back through the lobby; instead, we walked down narrow passageways, up and down staircases in a seemingly nonsensical pattern. The cinderblock walls were stained pail blue like the outside of the building. All doors were closed. It reminded me of an industrial office building, and I was the rat in a maze.
When we got to the second floor dormitory, the scientologists panicked. I heard them ask each other where everyone had gone. Jacob had gotten to the RPF’s in time.
The Scientologists shoved me into one of the dorm rooms while they decided what to do. The room was pale blue like the rest. It had three bunk beds and an auditing station. No dressers, nor personal things. I could tell by the smell that people lived here, but there was nothing personal there, not even clothes. It was eerie.
Ron came in the room with a Taser and told me it was time to meet the CBM, the Clear Board Member. He escorted me while the other scientologist followed. Ron’s actions felt real. The idea of a double-cross slightly scared me.
The Scientologists loved their acronyms. The CBM was kind of a branch leader. The COB or Chairman of the Board was in control of the whole organization. Power was taken, not given in the Church of Scientology.
We walked up and down more stairs and many industrial like hallways. Ron escorted me with the four other Scientologists following behind us. He whispered to me, “Don’t let anyone put anything around your neck.”
We entered an octagon shaped room with some kind of circular altar in the middle. It had a vaulted ceiling, no windows and everything was made of stone. The walls, the floor, the columns, and the altar were all made of or lined with a gray dull stone.
A man dressed in black was at the altar. I could hear him mumble as he read from a book. He was the CBM.
Ron cleared his throat and the CBM slammed the book shut. Tucking the book under his arm, he stepped over to us.
CBM: You killed two angels Andrew. I thought for sure when we didn’t make a Tasman for Jenna that you would’ve died, but no you killed them both. There will be no reintegration, only death.
Andrew: I didn’t kill any angel.
CBM: But you summoned them, and you were responsible for them.
Andrew: I didn’t summon the second one.
CBM: That’s right you have partners in the Morning Stars. Who did you let in our church? Was it him? The mighty Jacob. How are our camera’s not picking him up? How is he avoiding them?
Ron ordered two of the other Scientologists to grab me. He suggested the Tasman of Truth. The CBM went back to the altar, set down his book, and returned with a necklace with a vial of water attached to it.
I remembered what Ron had told me earlier, to not let anyone put anything around my neck. I figured it was some kind of truth spell that would put Jacob in danger. I fought, but it was useless. They got the talisman around my neck. An odd feeling rushed over me. My mind went blank was and I stood waiting for instructions.
The CBM asked me who I let in the building.
I told him it was Jacob. I couldn’t control the words that came out of my mouth
He asked me what our goal was.
I told him to trade the RFP’s for peace and kill the CBM.
The CBM laughed. He told me that they already recovered the RFP’s. They had camera’s everywhere. They had never left the building.
Jacob came out from behind one of the stone columns. He shot the CBM in the back. He dropped.
I hadn’t noticed, but Ron had snuck his way over to the altar during the conversation. When the CBM hit the ground, he picked up the book. He yelled, “I have the book of Raziel. The Book of Secrets. I am the Clear Board Member.”
The other Scientologists froze.
Jacob and I were put into custody, but it was all a ruse. The moving of the RPF’s from the dormitory was just a red herring to open the door to the CBM and then for Ron to take over.
When the old Scientology leader dies, the new one is the first to assume control. Jacob helped Ron take command over that Scientology branch in California. He had traded power for peace. Ron became the CBM, the Morning Stars got lasting peace, and Jacob got his friends freed from punishment.
Jacob, Rohanda’s sister, and myself were the only non-Scientologists to leave Big Blue that day. The Morning Stars had their peace. Jacob and I were in the clear, but we left all those poor deluded people behind.