by Rick Duarte

“Knowledge is of little value until it is shared with others.”

April 19, 2015. The twenty second anniversary of Waco. I call it “The Branch Davidian Massacre.”

On this day in 1993, over a hundred and forty souls perished. By gas. By bullets. By fire. Their blood still drips from the hands of our government.

Like most Americans, my attention was fixed on the evening news. I saw buildings. I saw homes. I saw fire. I saw an inferno. The black smoke rose and darkened a blue sky.

What I didn’t see were firemen. No firetrucks. No one. Not one single person trying to save a life. A child’s life. No. No one.

There I sat. In my chair. Still as stone. My mouth agape. I could barely breath. My stomach ached. My eyes glazed with tears.

I was in shock. Filled with horror. Disbelief.

I had just witnessed the incineration of men, women and children. Over one hundred and forty souls. Gone. Roasted. Their charred remains blacken the hands of our government. Our government.

And our media.

You see, there’s more to this story. A lot more.

Here’s just a little bit of it.

I’ll keep it short and sweet.

In the Spring of ’93, I was working in Los Angeles. I was a researcher. An investigator. Part-time journalist. I put my nose where it doesn’t belong. You catch my drift?

A few weeks after the Branch Davidian Massacre, our director summoned all the staff to the conference room. You could sense the gravity of the situation. It was in her voice. It was in her eyes. Especially her eyes.

We gathered. A couple dozen or so. We sat on folding chairs. In a semi-circle. Starring at a dark television screen. No one spoke. Our director just looked at us. Wanted to say something. Said nothing.

Then she inserted the cassette tape.

Silence fell over the room. It never left.

It was deafening.

For the next ten minutes or so, we watched. Motionless. In silence. It was as quite as a church on Monday morning.

This was no ordinary tape. No. Not by a long shot. This was an original. Unadulterated. Unedited. Fresh from a news camera. By way of an anonymous courier.

I will not indulge you with all that we saw that day. The two videos that accompany this story—“WACO: RULES OF ENGAGEMENT” and “WACO II: THE BIG LIE CONTINUES”—will do that for you.

What I will share with you today is what only a few eyes have seen. And here it is.

There will come a point in one of the videos where you will see four armed ATF agents climb up a ladder, onto the second story roof. They scurry their way over to a window draped with a black curtain. One agent squats outside the window and pulls back the black curtain. The other three agents hurry inside. The ATF agent squatting on-guard outside the window looks around as if to see if anyone is watching. Convinced no one is, he pulls back the black curtain one more time and unloads his assault rifle.

That’s how three of the four ATF agents died that day. It was not by the hands of the Branch Davidians as the mainstream media and government would lead you to believe.

Now, about that fourth ATF agent to die that day…whatever happen to him?

Well, my guess he was eliminated.


Well, you see, it’s like this.

Four ATF agents died that day. All four were former body guards of then-Governor Bill Clinton.

Need I say more?




Retired HEAD OF FBI Tells ALL “Illuminati, Satanism, Pedophile Rings”

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