WASHINGTON — The last Central Intelligence officer who helped conduct the 9/11 false flag operation is retiring, and for the first time ever, he’s speaking on the record about what happened that day — and how he almost had to sacrifice his own life to make it a success.

Michael Schram was a young field agent in September of 2001, not exactly a new recruit, but only on his second assignment. His first assignment had been turning sources inside the Uruguayan government in Montevideo, such as the local police chief and a deputy minister of mining. But in the summer of 2001 he had been recalled to Langley headquarters, encoding and decoding messages from officers around the world.

Then he got a temporary assignment that would define the rest of his career.

“In retrospect, knowing what I know now, I should have realized it was something big,” says Schram, sipping a craft beer on the deck of his house in Marble Creek, Virginia. “But at the time, we were young — the five or six other guys that were put in our cell — and we were just excited to get pulled out of the beehive for awhile.”

“The beehive” is the insider slang for the encryption room where Schram worked, for its tiny cubicles resembling honeycomb and the constant hum of the white noise generators, the buzzing, which prevent workers from hearing what their neighbors are encrypting.

Schram recounts how Old Man Cheney gathered them all in the Illuminarium, just widdershins of the Lizard People chamber, to give them their in-brief.

“He kept telling us we were embarking on a great endeavor to rid the world of brown people and propagate the Zionist cause, like, normal CIA stuff we all signed up for,” he says as his Jewess wife putters about in the living room behind him. “But then he also started talking about weird stuff like chemtrails and The Damned — the race of immortals, not the indie prog band — and there weren’t many details. Luckily he turned things over to our cell leader, Stanley Tucci, and we got down to business.”

Records recently obtained after a successful Freedom of Information Act lawsuit show that at the time, the piece of the One True Cross that was powering Cheney’s evil robot heart was losing its potency due to such prolonged exposure to the zombie spinal fluid that the vice president was using as a blood substitute at the time.

A few years later he would murder and consume the soul of Domino Harvey and, ever since, had been much more coherent.

Schram would become the leader of his cell, which was in charge of planting the charges inside Tower 2 and murdering everybody in Building 7 to cover up evidence that Gary Condit was guilty of the rape and murder of Laura Palmer, after the original cell leader ascended to godhood through a mishap with the Orb Of Perspicacity at an otherwise routine meeting of the Bilderberg Group.

Weeks were spent carefully plotting, working with other cells, often in total secrecy or late at night.

Schram’s marriage grew strained and he began drinking to cope with the stress. But he never thought of quitting, and not just because the only way to really “quit” the CIA is a bullet in the back of the head out at Stump Neck.

“We really believed in the work,” says Schram, smiling wistfully. “And it was rewarding, even if it was the hardest, most brutal work we’ve ever had to do. I mean, sure, we got to kill lots of minorities and women and foreigners, but we were also sacrificing some white Protestant males, and even a couple of Jews, even though most of them were able to get out in time thanks to their secret communicator watch network. It was rough. Some of the guys…I wasn’t sure they were going to make it.”

The climax of the day for Schram — what he calls “the most exciting ten minutes of my life” — was when a main circuit board for all the explosives in the basement of Tower 2 malfunctioned. The board’s failure meant that someone would have to stay behind to manually throw the switch and initiate the explosions — but there was no timer or delay mechanism.

Whoever pushed that button would also end their own life.

“We looked around and I took a good look at my team. Half Mast. Happenstance. The Baron. Silver Python. Such good, devoted guys. I couldn’t ask one of them to stay and die when I was the leader. Hell, Clone Hitler 43 had just had his first kid, Clone Eva 6B was still on maternity leave from her job at MSNBC. So I told them to get out, to get to Building 7 and finish the job there and I’d stay behind to push the button. I turned command over to Empress Skrizzctx and told them to run.”

After tearful goodbyes, the remaining CIA team left Schram there in the basement of Tower 2, waiting for the radio call from Elvis that the plane holograms had been successfully projected into the skies above Manhattan and that the LSD had been sufficiently seeded from the street-level sprayers. That would be his signal to press the button.

As he waited, Schram pulled out a photo of his wife and children, and called his father to say goodbye.

“Remember, this was 2001,” Schram said, “so cell phones were still roughly the size and weight of a Sherman main battle tank. Remember, you used to have to carry them like a briefcase and there was that big magnetic antenna you had to stick on the roof of your car? Anyway, I called Dad and told him ‘Dad, it’s me, Mike Schram,’ using my full name, which everybody does, right? And I just told him I loved him and he’d been a good dad.”

Soon the call came, however: one minute until detonation. Schram hung up and said a quiet prayer to the God of Israel, and checked his equipment one last time, like a good professional.

That’s when he got the shock of his life.

“I looked down and beside the detonator button was the circuit board, the one that wasn’t working. It was actually the backup board, can you believe it?” he adds. “But I look down and the damn thing was suddenly running again. The little light was on and everything. I was stunned.”

In what he calls a “dreamlike trance,” Schram checked the board with a multimeter and a continuity tester, and it was working.

“To this day I don’t know what happened,” Schram said. “One minute it wasn’t working and the next it was. I’ll never know why God spared me that day. But I just wired the board back into the circuit real quick — all I had to do was re-connect the cap wires to the two ports on the end — and hauled ass.”

Schram estimates he exited the garage underneath Tower 2 mere seconds before the first wave of explosions hit it. It would be several minutes before the tower fell, but Schram would have been killed in those initial explosions. The circuit board mysteriously returning to full functionality saved his life.

“I jogged over to Building 7 and I thought the team was going to have a heart attack. We cried a little bit, and laughed, and there was a lot of hugging and backslapping.”

Schram wipes a tear out of his eye, remembering the happy reunion.

“Then we remembered: We still have a job to do. So we got back to executing innocent office workers for America.”