"Hey," I said, sliding beside him and shutting the door softly. "Nice to see you again."
"You, too, buddy."
He started his engine. I snared his right hand as he reached for the headlight switch.
"I'd suggest not turning on your lights until you've driven a ways down the road. The soldiers at the checkpoint might wonder about that."
"Huh. Good point."
He guided the pickup back on the road with a light touch on the gas.
"No trouble, I take it?" I asked.
"Nope. They checked the backseat and the bed, and I was good to go."
We drove for several seconds in silence. My body was aching to relax, to inhale my first pure air of freedom, but I couldn't take my eyes off the side-view mirror, anticipating the twin beams of pursuing vehicles.
But the red blinkers at the checkpoint faded away, and we were driving in a sea of darkness. Hank tapped on his headlights. I finally allowed myself a tentative breath of release. Hank was grinning at me.
"Looks like we made it," he said.
"Yeah. I really appreciate it. That would've been a long walk back."
"So you gonna tell me what happened up there?"
That was a good question. As much as I appreciated his help, I wasn't sure that divulging everything to Hank was a good idea – either for him or for me. On the other hand, I couldn't see any harm and he had saved my ass.
"They've erected this huge tent," I said, "and they're working on dismantling what appeared to be the typical disc-shaped UFO craft. I'd guess it had been maybe 100 feet in length. They're transporting out sections of it at a time."
"How the hell did you get into this tent?"
I laughed under my breath. "I stole a uniform from a soldier taking a bath in a nearby creek."
"Ha."
"And I just walked through the tent, my camera recording video through a hole in a pocket as I went."
"Sweet." He laughed. "How did the video turn out?"
"Don't know. Haven't had the chance to look at it."
Hank waited a respectful few beats before suggesting: "Maybe you should take a look now?"
I realized then that I was afraid to look. What if after everything I'd gone through the images were shit? Then I'd be just another freak with a far-out story. Not that Markus and Lilith wouldn't believe me, but at some point those images would be necessary to convince anyone else.
Holding my breath, I slipped the camera out of the windbreaker. It was a little moist to the touch, but I wouldn't permit myself to believe it had been damaged by the wet jacket. I thumbed on the power. The screen lit up, no problem. Another held breath, and tapped the image menu. And there it was: a six-minute recording. I hit play.
The image was jittery as hell as I entered the tent. I was getting a slight case of vertigo as the soldiers, storage boxes, and machines swung up and down as if they were on some unbalanced teeter-totter.
Then, just as I was looking away to steady my stomach, the video settled. And it chose exactly the right time: there was the ship-section and the female officer speaking with two soldiers in the carcass of the UFO. She glanced in my direction once, and then again a few seconds later, a frown forming on her face. Whoever she was, I had a commanding officer on film standing in front of an exotic ship. How much better could it get?
"Yes!" I hissed out.
"Got some good stuff?"
I smiled. What were odds that I'd end up getting a ride from a bona fide UFO nut?
"Most of it's crap," I said. "But I think I got the money shot."
"Good." His Adam's apple bobbed. "Ah, any chance of giving me a peek?"
"Sure. When we reach a safe place."
"I think I know one. My house. Except for my killer feline, of course." He flashed a grin. "No, seriously, you're welcome to crash there for as much time as you need. I got a spare bedroom."
"That's very kind of you."
"You got a car? Or did someone drop you off?"
"I've got a car. In Aspen." My thoughts jelled unpleasantly around an image of government agents pawing over Markus's Rover. "But I don't dare go back to it. I parked it at a helicopter charter place. That's how I got into the backcountry. They'll know to check it out."
A puzzled frown took shape on my benefactor's whiskered face. "Shit, so you hired a helicopter to take you to the crash? You mean you didn't just stumble onto it. You were going after whatever crashed up there?"
"Yes," I said, slipping the camera back into my jacket. "I'm a journalist. I investigate weird shit."
"Huh. Ain't that a ball-buster. Have I heard of you?"
"Maybe, if you frequent conspiracy or alternative news blogs."
"Matter of fact, I do. What's the name of your blog?"
I hesitated. I wasn't sure it was good idea for Hank to know my life story. Oh, hell. What could it hurt?
"The Truth Hunter," I said. "I'm Hayden Hunter. That's my real name, not Scott."
"Ah." Hank scratched his head. "Hmmmm. Have to admit, I can't always keep the blogs straight, except for the major guys like Alex Jones or Markus Killian."
"Hank, ah, I'd appreciate it if you sort of keep this on the down-low for now. I think I can guarantee that if you put this out anywhere – online, even to your friends - they will be able to trace it to you. And then from you to me."
Hank shrugged. "I'm not looking to be famous. I'll leave that to you, Hayden. It's your story. I'm just grateful to be a part of it."
"Thanks, Hank."
"What are you going to do with it?"
"I'm not sure. It's going to come out, but it needs to be done carefully. The powers that be won't take this lightly. These people aren't fucking around."
"Oh, I believe you there, guy. Men in black and all." He laughed a sharp laugh. "I never doubted it was true. Alien ships crashing, the government covering it up, secret relations between them, the whole nine yards."
"A lot of people believed that."
"Didn't you?" He glanced at me with a furrowed brow.
"I thought it could be true."
"Does your video show a flying saucer-type UFO?"
"I'd say so."
"Well, there you go."
"It could be one of ours."
Hank shot me a conspiratorial grin. "But if that's true, we know where they got it, don't we?"
"Yeah, well, the only thing I know is that exotic aircraft and the retrieval program are real."
Hank nodded, his grin slipping into a more reflective shape. "I hear what you're saying, Hayden. I'm just a guy who drives an old pickup, owns a neurotic cat – or he owns me - and reads a lot of alternate news. You're the man. More level heads should prevail."
Level heads. I thought of myself bounding through the forest with antlers.
We entered Hank's small white house in Gunnison twenty minutes later. He switched on the lights, exposing a cozy but worn interior and a terrified black cat. One look at me sent it scurrying from the living room.
"I probably look like a ghoul," I said.
Hank laughed. "That was Mortimer being brave. If you'd really scared him, he'd already be cowering under the bed."
He motioned to an old couch, which I gladly collapsed down on.
"You could probably use something to drink and eat," said Hank.
"I'm at the point when even your cat looked kind of tasty."
"Then we better get something in your belly real quick-like 'cause I'm kinda fond of my cat," he laughed. He popped open the fridge in the adjacent kitchen. "How does a beer and frozen pizza sound?"
"Like a piece of heaven."
Soon the smell of cheap pizza filled the air while cheap lite beer filled my starving stomach.
"I was wondering if I could take a look at your video now," Hank said.
"Sure." I roused myself from my buzzed stupor to bring out Professor Killian's camera and locate the video. "Here it is."
Hank slid in next to me as I hit play. I heard him gulp as the video steadied on the s
hip. For a few seconds he seemed to stop breathing. I slowed the recording until it inched forward a frame at a time.
"Holy Mother of Moses," Hank gasped like a drowning man coming up for air. "This is the holy fucking grail, man. No one has ever filmed anything like this. Not for public consumption, anyway."
"I can still see people saying it's fake – except there's a real-life Air Force Colonel in there."
"That good-lookin' lady?"
"Right."
"Jeez. I wonder how the government will talk its way out of this one."
I amused myself by imagining the hornet's nest this and all my other revelations might stir up in government and other quarters. Of course they would spin them around until people would get dizzy looking at them, and most people would shrug and/or sneer anyway. But the truth would win out eventually.
"Could I use your phone?" I asked.
"Sure thing."
Hank dug his cell out from the coat he'd hung by the door. I called Lilith's new burner cell.
"It's me," I said.
"We've been wondering about you." Lilith's sensuous alto, blessedly sans snark, was like a warm handshake. "What's happening down there?"
"Just got back from a refreshing hike in the mountains," I said. "Some interesting sights up there."
"You were successful in finding the, um, campground?"
"Yes."
"That's...fantastic." Suppressed excitement crackled in her voice. "You have photos?"
"A ton of them. Video, too."
"Great. That's incredible."
I smiled. It was nice to hear Lilith struggling for superlatives.
"Are you on your way back?" she asked.
"Not yet. I'm afraid your dad's car isn't, well, available. I'm sure we can pick it up later, but right now I don't dare go to it."
"I think I understand. Do you want me to come down and pick you up?"
"Ah, maybe."
I hadn't thought that far, but with no car or money – only the clothes on my back and an expensive camera – traveling two hundred-plus miles could be a tad tricky.
"I can be there in a few hours," she said.
"Thanks. I guess I'm just wondering if it's a good idea to give you an address..." Across the room, Hank was gesturing at me. "Just a second."
"I couldn't help overhearing, Hayden," he said. "Sounds like you could use a lift home."
"Yeah, just considering the best way to do that."
"Whereabouts are you going?"
"Boulder area. But I've put you out enough already, Hank."
"Shoot, that ain't no problem. Got a brother in Longmont. Been meaning to head up that way before the weather turns anyhow."
"You're sure?"
"I want to get you and your precious cargo somewhere safe, brother." He grinned.
"Thanks, Hank. I really appreciate it." I lifted the phone. "Did you hear that?"
"Yes. I guess you're set then?" She sounded disappointed.
"I think so." Hank was nodding. "I'll let you know when to expect me."
"Okay. I'll tell my dad."
"See you soon."
I ended the connection and handed the phone back to Hank.
"When do you want to leave?" he asked.
My stomach made a deep growling sound. I gave him a chagrined smile.
"After we eat that pizza?"
Chapter 17
A SHADOW BLOCKED THE sun and I opened my eyes. Lilith was standing there, the sun forming a shimmering halo around her blond hair. I shaded my eyes. She held a plate of fruit and mini-sandwiches.
"I thought you'd be hungry again," she said. "What? Why are you staring at me like that?"
"I'm trying to decide which is the brighter – the sun or your hair. You look like some kind of religious icon."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
She dropped the tray on my lap and retreated to the pool. She hooked a thumb on her bottom bikini strap and adjusted its placement on her muscular derriere before diving into the water. I smiled. Of such small pleasures true happiness was born.
I stuffed a finger sandwich into my mouth. A medley of vegetable flavors with a hint of meat burst in my mouth. I'd given up trying to dissect Lilith's culinary creations. What was the point? Their deliciousness would never be within my reach. The frozen pizza Hank and I shared – I use the term "shared" loosely, since I'd consumed three-quarters of it – represented the pinnacle of my creative cuisine thus far.
I ate another mini-sandwich. Another explosion of flavor and it was gone – a victim to the bottomless pit I'd become since emerging from the Rocky Mountains.
Professor Killian lowered himself into the lounge chair beside me. He smiled at the plate in my lap. "Appetizers before your next meal?"
"I feel like the Nibblonian from Futurama, eating you out of house and home."
"We have a large home. I'm afraid I never watched Futurama."
"The Nibblonian was an ancient form of alien who could basically eat anything." I smiled and waved the subject aside with another finger sandwich. "Have you and your team made any sense out of the photos yet?"
"We're working on that as we speak. And there's a lot to work with, thanks to your courage, determination, and quick-thinking. You certainly exceeded my expectations, Hayden. We were incredibly fortunate to have met you. I'm beginning to wonder if private investigation might be your true niche."
I absorbed the praise, a modest smile on my face. I couldn't stem a surge of pride as I recounted the highlights of my last mission. Practically running a whole marathon in mountainous terrain! Waltzing through the tent, hundreds of soldiers, and two officers. What a gas! But of course it all could've gone to shit in an instant. I could easily be sitting in an interrogation cell right now instead of poolside watching Lilith's inimitable backside.
"I had a lot of luck," I said.
"Fortune favors the bold, as they say."
"Thanks, Markus. That means a lot, coming from you. It will be kind of hard going back to pushing zeros and ones after this."
"I can imagine."
"Do you have my next assignment figured out yet?" I grinned across at him. "Maybe breaking into Cheyenne Mountain or infiltrating Majestic 12?"
Markus chuckled. "If you know of a way to accomplish either of those things, please feel free. But yes, we're working on some things..."
He trailed off on a questioning note, turning in his chair as the back gate opened. His eyes narrowed. I swiveled around.
Two tall, powerfully built men strode in as though they owned the place. Wearing what I'd call "sports suits" – athletic shoes, matching blue sweatpants, stretchy jackets – they looked like a couple of dudes on their way to or back from the gym. Telltale bulges below their armpits made me wonder if they were "packing."
"You know these people?" I asked.
"They're part of our security forces," said Markus.
"I didn't know you had a security force."
I pushed up out of my chair to face them. Markus rose somewhat more stiffly, his face concerned, perhaps annoyed, but not surprised. I heard a splash of water and slapping wet footsteps behind me as Lilith sprang out of the pool and headed over. The two men came on with a purpose.
"What's happening?" Markus demanded.
"I'm sorry, sir," one of men replied. "But your house is about to be raided. You and your daughter need to leave immediately while we secure the information systems in your home."
"When is this raid going to occur?" asked Markus.
"Forces are assembling five minutes from here," the man replied. "We estimate ten minutes to arrival. We'll be taking to you a secure place."
I flinched as the sliding glass door flew open and three men raced out bearing suitcases.
"The house is clear," one of them shouted as they sprinted past the pool toward the rear gate.
Professor Killian lowered his eyes and released a sad-sounding breath.
"You'll need to go with them, sir," one of the security pair stat
ed. "Off-road vehicles await you outside the fence."
"What about Hayden?" Suddenly Lilith was standing between me and the men.
"Mr. Hunter will be staying."
Something in his tone sent a chill through me. It had a disturbingly terminal sound to it.
"Hayden's coming with us," she said.
"I am sorry, but our directives say otherwise."
"Fuck your directives."
I glanced between Lilith and the men. As usual, I was playing catch-up, though a part of me was already accepting the impossible yet unmistakable implication: these dudes wanted the Killians to leave so they could execute me out of their sight
"Whoa," I said, raising my hands and inching closer to the men. Lilith moved with me, staying between us. "You don't have to worry about me. I won't give them anything."
"He knows nothing about our organization," said Markus. "He is no danger to us. In fact, he's been of great help."
The two security dudes exchanged a glance.
"I would find anything other than good treatment of him to be completely unacceptable," Markus stated.
"Very well," said the spokesman. "But we need to go now."
Lilith turned to me, her eyes calmer but still narrowed with suspicion or concern. The two men had closed the distance. A hand on my back urged me on. We broke into a jog toward the rear gate, the dudes closing in on either side of me as Lilith joined her father a couple of steps ahead. The thickness of their jackets suggested body armor. The man on my right started to reach into his jacket. That was all the invitation I needed.
I added a little extra spring in my stride, rising up and launching a vicious elbow strike to his throat. He pulled up, gagging. I kicked sideways into Dude B's nearest knee. As he stumbled forward I arm-locked his head and carried his momentum down with the full weight of my body, driving his head into the poolside cement.
I rolled free as Dude A – clutching his throat and gasping for breath – was fumbling a handgun out of his jacket. I charged him but I guessed I'd be about two steps too late.
Enter Lilith, screaming like a banshee, leaping on his back and clawing his face. That was all I needed. I pinned his arm while driving a knee into his groin with everything I had. He fell toward me, aided by Lilith's weight, and I added my own leverage to plant his face firmly on the cement. Unfortunately, I came down pretty hard myself, smacking the side of my head. Images and words swirled around me in a darkening mist. Someone – I think it was Lilith – grabbed me by the arm and tried to lift or drag me. I feebly attempted to assist. No go. Markus half-shouted they needed to leave. The grip on my arm released. The dark mist enveloped me.
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