Michael James
Tony Blair Ordered The London Bombings
Sun Jul 10, 2005 18:06
64.140.158.103
Tony Blair Ordered The London Bombings
Former MI6 operative: The mainstream media
ignores vital evidence of an inside job.
Commentary
By Michael James in Frankfurt, Germany
7-10-5
http://www.rense.com/general66/blair.htm
Rested after a good night's sleep in the Gleneagles Hotel, Tony Blair glanced nervously at his watch and wondered if the bombing of the London transport system would take place on schedule. London's Chief of Police, Sir Ian Blair, and MI5 boss, Eliza Manningham-Buller, had promised to keep him firmly in the loop; and Jack Straw had advised him that the Israelis had been placated.
Blair caught a glimpse of himself in the dresser and checked his profile. Carole, his personal image advisor, had told him to soften the pronounced jaw when seated next to Bush. "You're overdoing the Winston thing," she had said pointedly. "Killing people was yesterday; starving Africans and rainforests is now the thing." She was wrong about the killing, of course. The good Miz Caplin would never understand his rites of passage, at least not in the Brethren's sense of the term. And yet something was still bothering him.
The intelligence services had been caught off balance by Mossad's unwelcome intrusion into matters they considered a strictly British affair. Having the headline "Israel Warned Blair Two Days Before Attack" splashed across the front pages of an otherwise complicit print media was something to be avoided at all costs. Binyamin Netanyahu would go ahead with preparations for his press conference and allow himself to be "advised" by Scotland Yard shortly after the first blast. If MI5 were to dally in their attacks on commuters, he would have no choice but to claim that Scotland Yard had warned him prior to the event, and the Blair government would have to hope that the British people would not notice the obvious irregularity.
Back in London, Netanyahu dropped security protocol and looked cautiously out of his hotel window. Reflecting on his long years of experience in helping to finance and organise terror attacks on Israeli citizens to provoke world outrage against the rightful inhabitants of his stolen country, he knew that errors would be made and officials would let their tongues slip when the heat was on. Press reports would have to be altered at short notice and the volume turned up loud until all the world would hear nothing but "al Qaeda, alQaeda, al Qaeda". It had worked before and it would work again. The Goyim, whether American or British, would once more be led by the nose to believe the official version of events. Binyamin snickered inwardly at Eliza Manningham-Buller's chosen title for the fictitious terror group. The nonsensical "Secret Group of the al Qaeda Organisation in Europe" suggested to him that Manningham-Buller had probably spent her childhood reading nothing other than Enid Blyton's "Famous Five" and "Secret Seven" adventure books. Yes, that was it, the Secret Seven on the seventh of July. How apt. How very Qabalah.
Whatever, the British had insisted on bombing close to the venue at which he had been billed to deliver an important seminar, if only to give the attacks, in the words of an MI6 liason officer, "a real whiff of al Qaeda". The Liverpool Street bombing would even lift the hotel in which former New York City mayor Rudy Giuliani was staying. The Prime Minister of Ontario, Dalton McGuinty, was also close to the epicentre. The British government and their Freemason paymasters in the City of London were sure sending a message to the Americans and Canadians: "We're back in control of the terror game now. This time, the British Crown is playing for keeps."
But the clock was ticking, and still no word. "Hashem," Netanyahu growled softly, "deliver us from the ignorant Goyim and their slow-witted ways."
At 8.40 am, "Mad Dog" Spencer stepped into the third carriage of a subway train bound for Aldgate and Liverpool Street Stations. He knew he would have very little time to leave the package behind in a shabby plastic bag and put sufficient distance between himself and the ten pounds of high explosives strapped to a timer. The latex treatment, which had given him the facial appearance of a down-and-out, was beginning to itch. Such inconveniences would have meant nothing to him back in the days when working in Kabul with his old MI6 friend, Clive Newell. It was Newell who had introduced him to the legendary CIA asset, Osama bin Laden, then known by his American codename "Tim Osman". Those were the days: fighting the Soviets back-to-back with artificial Islamic terror groups financed out of London, courtesy of the Bank of Credit and Commerce International.
Spencer remembered Clive fawning over Osama as "our baby", and his raging against the CIA's unwarranted incursions on the British Crown's right to use the fledgling al Qaeda gang as it saw fit. After all, the British had established the occultic Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt during the 1920s for the express purpose of destroying pro-American Arab nationalism as a counterforce to continued British imperial rule and as a means to defame the world's fastest growing religion. America had paid for her obstinacy on September 11, 2001, although the Bush administration had deliberately left the gate wide open to all comers, including Mossad and the mercenary wing of the British SAS. Bush got what he wanted. Now it's our turn.
Had "J-boy" been telepathic, he would doubtless have been sharing Spencer's thoughts. They were old pals and had been through much the same thing. J-boy scanned the faces of his fellow commuters on the southbound Piccadilly Line train. They will all be dead in less than three minutes, he thought. Still, it all works to the good of Queen and country, and Tony will get his shiny new National Identity Cards. A shame it had to be a "wet job", but his many years of experience in helping the IRA to carry out terrorist atrocities in Northern Ireland and on the British mainland had shown him that only the proactive approach toward bringing things to a head delivered the political goods.
The 1974 Birmingham pub bombings. Yes, sir, that was us; and six innocent Paddies went to prison. It didn't stop there. The good times for J-boy only started in earnest when working for the maverick Gordon Kerr. As an operative for the DET 14th Intelligence squad, J-boy had killed both Republicans and Loyalists, changing sides as frequently as was required by both MI5 and the SAS. The slaying of pensioner Francisco Notarantonio was J-boy's finest moment because, in contrast to bombings with a high civilian body count, it required a level of deception unmatched in any previous MI5 assassinations in Ireland and Britain. Sir John Stevens finally ended the fun, despite MI5's efforts to kill him too. But still, Her Majesty's Government saved the day by forbidding the press from revealing any further names. Not that the press requires censorship these days - the mainstream boys do it themselves. It's a cakewalk.
J-boy allowed the package to slip neatly between his feet, and he gently sidled it into the corner of the standing room in front of the double doors to the carriage. When the train pulled into the station, J-boy was gone. He would disappear into the crowd and make an expeditious exit before the explosion would claim the lives of twenty-one "useless eaters", and leave at least one hundred survivors without vital body parts for the rest of their lives.
As J-boy vanished into the back seat of an Astra Cabrio before being driven to an MI5 safe house, Tony Blair entered the foyer of the Gleneagles Hotel with a smile on his face. He knew that the first three bombs had been detonated just split seconds apart. Mentally, he quickly ran through the lines he had prepared the night before. He would say something Churchillian with an allusion to the wartime blitz and the unfailing courage of Londoners. It would be a bravely defiant speech. Nobody would suspect that the bombings were his own handiwork. Still, until such time he would have to play dumb and wait for Jonathan Powell or Ian Gleeson to brief him officially. Powell, he knew, had not been informed, but would know soon enough once John Scarlett had apprised him of the matter.
Sir Ian Blair, London's Chief of Police, tried to sound surprised when informed of the bombings. The transport police had, as agreed in prior exercises, already briefed the press about an unexplained power surge. The rationale for such an explanation would be based on the alleged need to minimise panic and, as a helpful corollary, to maximise any potential casualties at sites where bombs had yet to be detonated. MI5 had quite deliberately misbriefed Sir Ian on the number of detonations they had planned, just to keep him sharp. This was the first time that such a hugely complex operation was known to senior figures within the British executive, Scotland Yard and the intelligence services. In fact, considering the potential for accidental disclosure, it was unprecedented in its scope and daring.
Sir Ian was nervous, and rightfully so. He had wanted to suspend all cell phone network services, but had been overruled by both Eliza Manningham-Buller and Tony Blair, the latter saying that "commuters should be given the chance to digitally record the full horror of the attacks". Yet Sir Ian knew that journalists would be curious as to why services were allowed to continue, given the widely known fact that the Madrid bombings had been detonated by mobile devices. It would be a tough call. He wouldn't, of course, be able to say that he knew well in advance that timers had triggered the explosives. He would just have to HOPE THAT JOURNALISTS WOULD IGNORE THIS SMOKING GUN and fall for the mantra their editors would insist on repeating: "al Qaeda, al Qaeda, al Qaeda." Sir Ian took a deep breath and quietly thanked Moloch in his heart for making real investigative journalism a thing of the past.
Eliza Manningham-Buller discovered a spring in her step. This was the first time she had been allowed to participate in the killing of large numbers of innocent people. It was a great day for England. It meant that she and John Scarlett would regain full control over al Qaeda and all the other terror front groups that had deserted to the CIA following Clinton's symbolic and disciplinary cruise missile attacks on the Taliban. Eliza had also been cleaning house. There were no more David Shaylers around to be blowing whistles on payments made to Osama. No more attempts to expose her protection of British-trained and financed terrorists, such as Abu Qatada, a pro-British, anti-American gentleman with impeccable manners and a heart for the Queen.
Department K had already confirmed that both Spencer and J-boy were safe and in debrief. With the Edgware Road detonation also a success, Simpson wouldn't be far behind. That just left 'Green Eagle', Lawton and Pettigrew. Blair would now have been fully informed and she would take the conference call alone. There was still the matter of the fake al Qaeda website. The DNS was still POINTING TO AN INTERNET SERVICE PROVIDER IN MARYLAND, AMERICA. The Israeli intern had, according to one duty officer who speaks fluent Farsi and classic Arabic, done a poor job of the grammar and had even misquoted the ayahs selected from the Koran. MSNBC TV translator Jacob Keryakes was already saying that al Qaeda would never have posted a statement on a secular website and that the claim of responsibility contained give-away errors. The whole thing is phoney, he scoffed. "This is not something al-Qaeda would do," he said.
Eliza, being a perfectionist and the first to laugh at the CIA's obvious home movie and audio productions of fake al Qaeda PR, was not entirely happy with substandard work. The press, however, would be cowed, online bloggers dismissed as nutty conspiracy theorists and the website pulled as soon as it had served its purpose. She could only hope that the ad hoc team charged with planting "clues" and tampering with forensic "evidence" in the subway stations would make a much better job at framing fictitious Islamic extremists. But, darling, no mini-vans full of Korans or miraculously intact Arab passports to be found within the eye of the blasts. Manningham-Buller sniggered into her coffee cup at the crass ineptitude of the Bush administration. British terrorism had always had a touch of class.
Meanwhile, all hell had broken lose in Tel Aviv. Foreign Minister Silvan Shalom had been barking down the phone to Israeli Ambassador Zvi Heifetz, enraged that the British had not acted on his warnings of an attack on the subway system, but had instead failed to communicate that this was an inside job. How dare they endanger Netanyahu's life? Now they're claiming the finance minister was warned before the attacks and are preparing a damage limitation exercise that points to Mossad in the event that things go awry. Shalom had the soon-to-be redacted Associated Press report in front of him:
(Jerusalem-AP) July 7, 2005 - "British police told the Israeli Embassy in London minutes before Thursday's explosions that they had received warnings of possible terror attacks in the city, a senior Israeli official said.
"Israeli Finance Minister Benjamin Netanyahu had planned to attend an economic conference in a hotel over the subway stop where one of the blasts occurred, and the warning prompted him to stay in his hotel room instead, government officials said. ... Just before the blasts, Scotland Yard called the security officer at the Israeli Embassy to say they had received warnings of possible attacks, the official said. He did not say whether British police made any link to the economic conference.
"The official spoke on condition of anonymity because of the nature of his position."
Shalom was aware of the political fallout this would cause. The British were trying to spin things their way and his opposite number, John Scarlett, was refusing to take his calls. All this despite repeated warnings from the Israeli side since July 4. Yes, we told them it was going to happen, and TONY BLAIR SAT ON THE INFORMATION AND DID NOTHING.
Shalom knew that AP would eventually redact the news report (and they did: nomorefakenews.com); so he was pleased to read what Stratfor had put out:
"Contrary to original claims that Israel was warned "minutes before" the first attack, unconfirmed rumours in intelligence circles indicate that the Israeli government actually warned London of the attacks "a couple of days" previous. Israel has apparently given other warnings about possible attacks that turned out to be aborted operations. The British government did not want to disrupt the G-8 summit in Gleneagles, Scotland, or call off visits by foreign dignitaries to London, hoping this would be another false alarm.
"The British government sat on this information for days and failed to respond. Though the Israeli government is playing along publicly, it may not stay quiet for long. This is sure to apply pressure on Blair very soon for his failure to deter this major terrorist attack."
Heifetz ended his conversation with Shalom and eyed his liquor cabinet. If the press runs with this, he thought wistfully, Blair will be exposed as a murderer of his own people. You can kill Israelis and get away with it. You can kill Americans and they'll make you President for a second time. But the Brits are made of wiser stuff. They'll hang Blair from the highest lamppost in London.
Heifetz had also been told that Sir Ian Blair had refused to disable the cell phone networks. That's an open admission that Blair knew well beforehand that explosions were not to be triggered by cell phones. Heifetz whistled at the audacity of it all, and wondered if just one curious journalist would push the matter to its logical conclusion. Not any of the media whores from the Murdoch press, of course. Or even from the Fabian socialist Guardian newspaper. The BBC would naturally report the government-approved version of events and any embarrassing questions would be drowned out in the general cry for revenge and increased police state
Former MI6 operative: The mainstream media
ignores vital evidence of an inside job.
Commentary
By Michael James in Frankfurt, Germany
7-10-5
http://www.rense.com/general66/blair.htm
Rested after a good night's sleep in the Gleneagles Hotel, Tony Blair glanced nervously at his watch and wondered if the bombing of the London transport system would take place on schedule. London's Chief of Police, Sir Ian Blair, and MI5 boss, Eliza Manningham-Buller, had promised to keep him firmly in the loop; and Jack Straw had advised him that the Israelis had been placated.
Blair caught a glimpse of himself in the dresser and checked his profile. Carole, his personal image advisor, had told him to soften the pronounced jaw when seated next to Bush. "You're overdoing the Winston thing," she had said pointedly. "Killing people was yesterday; starving Africans and rainforests is now the thing." She was wrong about the killing, of course. The good Miz Caplin would never understand his rites of passage, at least not in the Brethren's sense of the term. And yet something was still bothering him.
The intelligence services had been caught off balance by Mossad's unwelcome intrusion into matters they considered a strictly British affair. Having the headline "Israel Warned Blair Two Days Before Attack" splashed across the front pages of an otherwise complicit print media was something to be avoided at all costs. Binyamin Netanyahu would go ahead with preparations for his press conference and allow himself to be "advised" by Scotland Yard shortly after the first blast. If MI5 were to dally in their attacks on commuters, he would have no choice but to claim that Scotland Yard had warned him prior to the event, and the Blair government would have to hope that the British people would not notice the obvious irregularity.
Back in London, Netanyahu dropped security protocol and looked cautiously out of his hotel window. Reflecting on his long years of experience in helping to finance and organise terror attacks on Israeli citizens to provoke world outrage against the rightful inhabitants of his stolen country, he knew that errors would be made and officials would let their tongues slip when the heat was on. Press reports would have to be altered at short notice and the volume turned up loud until all the world would hear nothing but "al Qaeda, alQaeda, al Qaeda". It had worked before and it would work again. The Goyim, whether American or British, would once more be led by the nose to believe the official version of events. Binyamin snickered inwardly at Eliza Manningham-Buller's chosen title for the fictitious terror group. The nonsensical "Secret Group of the al Qaeda Organisation in Europe" suggested to him that Manningham-Buller had probably spent her childhood reading nothing other than Enid Blyton's "Famous Five" and "Secret Seven" adventure books. Yes, that was it, the Secret Seven on the seventh of July. How apt. How very Qabalah.
Whatever, the British had insisted on bombing close to the venue at which he had been billed to deliver an important seminar, if only to give the attacks, in the words of an MI6 liason officer, "a real whiff of al Qaeda". The Liverpool Street bombing would even lift the hotel in which former New York City mayor Rudy Giuliani was staying. The Prime Minister of Ontario, Dalton McGuinty, was also close to the epicentre. The British government and their Freemason paymasters in the City of London were sure sending a message to the Americans and Canadians: "We're back in control of the terror game now. This time, the British Crown is playing for keeps."
But the clock was ticking, and still no word. "Hashem," Netanyahu growled softly, "deliver us from the ignorant Goyim and their slow-witted ways."
At 8.40 am, "Mad Dog" Spencer stepped into the third carriage of a subway train bound for Aldgate and Liverpool Street Stations. He knew he would have very little time to leave the package behind in a shabby plastic bag and put sufficient distance between himself and the ten pounds of high explosives strapped to a timer. The latex treatment, which had given him the facial appearance of a down-and-out, was beginning to itch. Such inconveniences would have meant nothing to him back in the days when working in Kabul with his old MI6 friend, Clive Newell. It was Newell who had introduced him to the legendary CIA asset, Osama bin Laden, then known by his American codename "Tim Osman". Those were the days: fighting the Soviets back-to-back with artificial Islamic terror groups financed out of London, courtesy of the Bank of Credit and Commerce International.
Spencer remembered Clive fawning over Osama as "our baby", and his raging against the CIA's unwarranted incursions on the British Crown's right to use the fledgling al Qaeda gang as it saw fit. After all, the British had established the occultic Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt during the 1920s for the express purpose of destroying pro-American Arab nationalism as a counterforce to continued British imperial rule and as a means to defame the world's fastest growing religion. America had paid for her obstinacy on September 11, 2001, although the Bush administration had deliberately left the gate wide open to all comers, including Mossad and the mercenary wing of the British SAS. Bush got what he wanted. Now it's our turn.
Had "J-boy" been telepathic, he would doubtless have been sharing Spencer's thoughts. They were old pals and had been through much the same thing. J-boy scanned the faces of his fellow commuters on the southbound Piccadilly Line train. They will all be dead in less than three minutes, he thought. Still, it all works to the good of Queen and country, and Tony will get his shiny new National Identity Cards. A shame it had to be a "wet job", but his many years of experience in helping the IRA to carry out terrorist atrocities in Northern Ireland and on the British mainland had shown him that only the proactive approach toward bringing things to a head delivered the political goods.
The 1974 Birmingham pub bombings. Yes, sir, that was us; and six innocent Paddies went to prison. It didn't stop there. The good times for J-boy only started in earnest when working for the maverick Gordon Kerr. As an operative for the DET 14th Intelligence squad, J-boy had killed both Republicans and Loyalists, changing sides as frequently as was required by both MI5 and the SAS. The slaying of pensioner Francisco Notarantonio was J-boy's finest moment because, in contrast to bombings with a high civilian body count, it required a level of deception unmatched in any previous MI5 assassinations in Ireland and Britain. Sir John Stevens finally ended the fun, despite MI5's efforts to kill him too. But still, Her Majesty's Government saved the day by forbidding the press from revealing any further names. Not that the press requires censorship these days - the mainstream boys do it themselves. It's a cakewalk.
J-boy allowed the package to slip neatly between his feet, and he gently sidled it into the corner of the standing room in front of the double doors to the carriage. When the train pulled into the station, J-boy was gone. He would disappear into the crowd and make an expeditious exit before the explosion would claim the lives of twenty-one "useless eaters", and leave at least one hundred survivors without vital body parts for the rest of their lives.
As J-boy vanished into the back seat of an Astra Cabrio before being driven to an MI5 safe house, Tony Blair entered the foyer of the Gleneagles Hotel with a smile on his face. He knew that the first three bombs had been detonated just split seconds apart. Mentally, he quickly ran through the lines he had prepared the night before. He would say something Churchillian with an allusion to the wartime blitz and the unfailing courage of Londoners. It would be a bravely defiant speech. Nobody would suspect that the bombings were his own handiwork. Still, until such time he would have to play dumb and wait for Jonathan Powell or Ian Gleeson to brief him officially. Powell, he knew, had not been informed, but would know soon enough once John Scarlett had apprised him of the matter.
Sir Ian Blair, London's Chief of Police, tried to sound surprised when informed of the bombings. The transport police had, as agreed in prior exercises, already briefed the press about an unexplained power surge. The rationale for such an explanation would be based on the alleged need to minimise panic and, as a helpful corollary, to maximise any potential casualties at sites where bombs had yet to be detonated. MI5 had quite deliberately misbriefed Sir Ian on the number of detonations they had planned, just to keep him sharp. This was the first time that such a hugely complex operation was known to senior figures within the British executive, Scotland Yard and the intelligence services. In fact, considering the potential for accidental disclosure, it was unprecedented in its scope and daring.
Sir Ian was nervous, and rightfully so. He had wanted to suspend all cell phone network services, but had been overruled by both Eliza Manningham-Buller and Tony Blair, the latter saying that "commuters should be given the chance to digitally record the full horror of the attacks". Yet Sir Ian knew that journalists would be curious as to why services were allowed to continue, given the widely known fact that the Madrid bombings had been detonated by mobile devices. It would be a tough call. He wouldn't, of course, be able to say that he knew well in advance that timers had triggered the explosives. He would just have to HOPE THAT JOURNALISTS WOULD IGNORE THIS SMOKING GUN and fall for the mantra their editors would insist on repeating: "al Qaeda, al Qaeda, al Qaeda." Sir Ian took a deep breath and quietly thanked Moloch in his heart for making real investigative journalism a thing of the past.
Eliza Manningham-Buller discovered a spring in her step. This was the first time she had been allowed to participate in the killing of large numbers of innocent people. It was a great day for England. It meant that she and John Scarlett would regain full control over al Qaeda and all the other terror front groups that had deserted to the CIA following Clinton's symbolic and disciplinary cruise missile attacks on the Taliban. Eliza had also been cleaning house. There were no more David Shaylers around to be blowing whistles on payments made to Osama. No more attempts to expose her protection of British-trained and financed terrorists, such as Abu Qatada, a pro-British, anti-American gentleman with impeccable manners and a heart for the Queen.
Department K had already confirmed that both Spencer and J-boy were safe and in debrief. With the Edgware Road detonation also a success, Simpson wouldn't be far behind. That just left 'Green Eagle', Lawton and Pettigrew. Blair would now have been fully informed and she would take the conference call alone. There was still the matter of the fake al Qaeda website. The DNS was still POINTING TO AN INTERNET SERVICE PROVIDER IN MARYLAND, AMERICA. The Israeli intern had, according to one duty officer who speaks fluent Farsi and classic Arabic, done a poor job of the grammar and had even misquoted the ayahs selected from the Koran. MSNBC TV translator Jacob Keryakes was already saying that al Qaeda would never have posted a statement on a secular website and that the claim of responsibility contained give-away errors. The whole thing is phoney, he scoffed. "This is not something al-Qaeda would do," he said.
Eliza, being a perfectionist and the first to laugh at the CIA's obvious home movie and audio productions of fake al Qaeda PR, was not entirely happy with substandard work. The press, however, would be cowed, online bloggers dismissed as nutty conspiracy theorists and the website pulled as soon as it had served its purpose. She could only hope that the ad hoc team charged with planting "clues" and tampering with forensic "evidence" in the subway stations would make a much better job at framing fictitious Islamic extremists. But, darling, no mini-vans full of Korans or miraculously intact Arab passports to be found within the eye of the blasts. Manningham-Buller sniggered into her coffee cup at the crass ineptitude of the Bush administration. British terrorism had always had a touch of class.
Meanwhile, all hell had broken lose in Tel Aviv. Foreign Minister Silvan Shalom had been barking down the phone to Israeli Ambassador Zvi Heifetz, enraged that the British had not acted on his warnings of an attack on the subway system, but had instead failed to communicate that this was an inside job. How dare they endanger Netanyahu's life? Now they're claiming the finance minister was warned before the attacks and are preparing a damage limitation exercise that points to Mossad in the event that things go awry. Shalom had the soon-to-be redacted Associated Press report in front of him:
(Jerusalem-AP) July 7, 2005 - "British police told the Israeli Embassy in London minutes before Thursday's explosions that they had received warnings of possible terror attacks in the city, a senior Israeli official said.
"Israeli Finance Minister Benjamin Netanyahu had planned to attend an economic conference in a hotel over the subway stop where one of the blasts occurred, and the warning prompted him to stay in his hotel room instead, government officials said. ... Just before the blasts, Scotland Yard called the security officer at the Israeli Embassy to say they had received warnings of possible attacks, the official said. He did not say whether British police made any link to the economic conference.
"The official spoke on condition of anonymity because of the nature of his position."
Shalom was aware of the political fallout this would cause. The British were trying to spin things their way and his opposite number, John Scarlett, was refusing to take his calls. All this despite repeated warnings from the Israeli side since July 4. Yes, we told them it was going to happen, and TONY BLAIR SAT ON THE INFORMATION AND DID NOTHING.
Shalom knew that AP would eventually redact the news report (and they did: nomorefakenews.com); so he was pleased to read what Stratfor had put out:
"Contrary to original claims that Israel was warned "minutes before" the first attack, unconfirmed rumours in intelligence circles indicate that the Israeli government actually warned London of the attacks "a couple of days" previous. Israel has apparently given other warnings about possible attacks that turned out to be aborted operations. The British government did not want to disrupt the G-8 summit in Gleneagles, Scotland, or call off visits by foreign dignitaries to London, hoping this would be another false alarm.
"The British government sat on this information for days and failed to respond. Though the Israeli government is playing along publicly, it may not stay quiet for long. This is sure to apply pressure on Blair very soon for his failure to deter this major terrorist attack."
Heifetz ended his conversation with Shalom and eyed his liquor cabinet. If the press runs with this, he thought wistfully, Blair will be exposed as a murderer of his own people. You can kill Israelis and get away with it. You can kill Americans and they'll make you President for a second time. But the Brits are made of wiser stuff. They'll hang Blair from the highest lamppost in London.
Heifetz had also been told that Sir Ian Blair had refused to disable the cell phone networks. That's an open admission that Blair knew well beforehand that explosions were not to be triggered by cell phones. Heifetz whistled at the audacity of it all, and wondered if just one curious journalist would push the matter to its logical conclusion. Not any of the media whores from the Murdoch press, of course. Or even from the Fabian socialist Guardian newspaper. The BBC would naturally report the government-approved version of events and any embarrassing questions would be drowned out in the general cry for revenge and increased police state
- Cont'd) Tony Blair Ordered The London Bombings —Michael James, Sun Jul 10 18:10
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