“What could be so important at this time of the night?!” She said very rudely, and right at that moment I saw Daughney and Security running out of the hotel looking for me.
“This is my last good meal,” I announced at the dinner table, “prison food is really bad.”
“Well, then you better order something you really like,” Security said, laughing at my statement.
I ordered my favorite – barbeque chicken pizza and shared it with Daughney. I took the rest of the pizza to my new room (since Daughney moved out to Security’s room, and now I had a whole room all to myself) and I spent all day eating pizza, and watching TV. I finally got to change my clothes because I got my luggage back. I ordered some movies, dyed my hair, did every little thing I could to at least try to enjoy a few days of freedom I had left, before they put me in prison, then Kirsten came and spoiled everything by telling me that a computer guy wanted to check my Facebook messages and all e-mail messages of all e-mail accounts I ever had.
I was not worrying about my e-mail messages, because I had more e-mail accounts than I could remember and they weren’t that good with computers. I was not worrying about my phone messages either, because all important things were on my “other” phone – the one I sold just before I came to California, and had used the money to buy a new 4G phone. And so I knew for sure they would not able to find anything incriminating there – nothing more than they’d already found.
The only problem I had was my Facebook messages. I had several Facebook accounts at that time, and even though the MAA made me de-activate all my accounts with my new name, I still had one active one with my old name, and I just could not let him do that.
I said “No.”
Kirsten went to a meeting to find out what she could legally do about it, and if she could get a court order to check my messages. I went back to my room, racking my brains for how I could get somebody to delete them all.
I also had to make sure that my operation that I called “Mutiny 2013” was aborted. The plan was to receive a package full of critical books (about people leaving Scientology – people who shared their stories about their experience in the Sea Org and with David Miscavage), wrap them into tech book covers, and leave them all around PAC base – especially on the shelves of the staff college and the Qual library. Just before beginning this operation, I’d found out from the Cope Officer that packages at the PAC base were not being opened unless they looked suspicious. Covering books into Scientology book covers was my idea.
I hoped the package was not on its way yet, and the order was canceled by friends before it even was mailed, otherwise more people would get in trouble. I did abort that operation the same day I got busted, but never got any confirmation.
I needed a new plan. Not an escape plan – just a plan to get away for a few minutes – long enough to make a phone call.
The rest of the day I spent hanging out with Daughney, who came to my room to keep me company.
When everybody went to bed, I escaped from my room and ran to the elevator as fast as I could.
As soon I got off the elevator, I realized I’d forgotten my room key and that I’d probably locked myself out, but it did not matter.
“I have an emergency!” I told the front-desk lady. “I need to use the phone! Can I use this one?”
She stared at me. Nobody else was in the lobby.
“Ma’am – no, you cant! Go and use the phone in your own room!”
That really shocked me. I came from a town where a guest or customer was always right. I was pretty sure that in LA, must be the same thing.
“You see, there is a problem,” I said, nervously looking around, “the cords in my room are removed, and I really need to make a very important phone call! It’s like a life and death situation! Can I borrow a cord from this phone?” I asked, and not waiting for an answer, I grabbed the phone in front of me and unplugged the cord. “I will bring it right back!”
She abandoned her front desk and went after me.
“Ma’am I will have to call security. You can’t just take this cord from the phone – it belongs in the lobby! Please, wait a few hours, then the maintenance man will come and fix your phone first thing in the morning!” she told me, taking away the phone cord, and I wondered how come she did not even ask me for my room number.
I nervously looked around and ran outside. Some woman was standing by hotel door talking on her cellphone. I ran to her, “Excuse me, can I please use your phone for a second?” I asked.
“I’m in the middle of a phone call,” she said. “Wait!”
I stepped back, waited about a minute or two, but her conversation did not seem to be coming to an end.
Trying not to piss her off, I circled around her being ready to grab her phone as soon as she finished.
She ignored me and kept on talking.
I decided to remind her of my presence, carefully coming closer and closer, then finally shyly asked, “I won’t take too much of your time. It’s very important!”
“What could be so important at this time of the night?!” She said very rudely, and right at that moment I saw Daughney and Security running out of the hotel looking for me. How did they know I was not in my room? Front Desk Lady must have called and alerted them. Or the lady with the phone outside. She must be working for Moxon, too, I thought.
I decided not to argue, and obediently followed them back to my room.
“No more escapes like this,” Security said. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow you will get your cord.”
I got in my bed, plotting another plan.
In a few hours I peeked out of my room, making sure nobody was in the hallway, and took an elevator downstairs. I passed the front desk lady and ran outside, passing the fountains and some buildings. I ran and ran till I saw some office where phones would not be bugged, and the staff not bought by Moxon. I think it was some sort of sales office or doctors clinic – I could not see it clearly in the dark.
With a friendly smile, I walked up to the receptionist and politely asked to use the phone.
“Local phones only,” she said, not even asking why I was asking to use the phone in the middle of the night in my PJs.
I dialed Aida’s number – the only number I could remember from the top of my head.
“Listen,” I said, “I don’t have much time. Write down this Facebook password.” I gave her my password.
“What do you want me to do with that?”she asked. I turned around and saw Daughney through the glass door, coming towards me.
“Delete everything!” I said. “All my messages!”
“What?” she asked.
Daughney walked in and quietly stood behind me. Security lady came in next, and stood next to her.
“Are my kids okay?” I asked, hoping she would figure it out.
“I don’t understand! Do you want me to do something with your Facebook? To log in and post something?”
“No! I just want to know how my kids are doing!”
”Your kids? Your kids are fine, …I guess,” she said.
“How’s everybody?” I asked.
“I don’t know what are you saying!” Aida cried out, and I then whispered, “Delete everything,” and hung up on her.
“Just checking on the kids. Have to keep good communication with my family, for PR reasons,” I told Daughney.
Security lady did not move till I exited the building, being afraid I would start a big scene. I let them take me back to the hotel…