by Bob Blink
Garcia's team found cover and kept watch against the appearance of more clones, but couldn't help Mark and Glen in their fight against the glowing orbs. Even those who might have been able to reach the fallen weapons from clones they had killed knew they wouldn't be able to fire them.
Then, suddenly, the remaining two energy balls, simply vanished. The electromagnetic signatures that Karl and Stephanie were recording vanished at the same time.
"Gone," Karl said unnecessarily. He noted that the sound of gunfire had suddenly ceased as well.
"I think we won," Steph said hopefully.
It was a few minutes before Glen made it back to check on them. He explained about the strange balls of energy that the two engineers hadn't been able to see from their location. He also told Steph about Jessie.
"No!" she cried. "Not Jessie!"
"Be glad you weren't there," Glen said. "We lost over a dozen marines as well."
"There's going to be hell to pay in the morning when management finds out about this. I think I can kiss my job goodbye," Karl noted.
"This is a whole lot bigger than that," Glen said. "We got most of it on the body cams. We can finally present what is really happening. I don't know if those were the aliens, or just some alternate weapon they have, but it's clear we have a real problem that needs immediate attention of the whole government."
"Aliens?" Karl asked, suddenly confused.
Given the magnitude of the encounter and the sheer number of rounds fired, it was surprising how little damage had actually resulted from the battle. Of course, Major Garcia had selected men who were battle tested and could be counted on putting their shots where they intended. The hundreds of rounds fired had mostly struck the orbs of glowing energy, and were somehow consumed by the objects, leaving nothing to produce bullet holes. There was, of course, all of the brass from the many rounds discharged, but that was easily policed up. The bodies were more of a problem, as was the resulting blood, but even that was mostly cleared away. While many of the clones vanished as a result of their wounds, a number were head shot in order to preserve the weapons that were highly desirable, even more so after seeing how they were the only thing that seemed to be effective against the strange and deadly spheres. The Maintenance Supervisor was gone, vanished like the other clones who were wounded when they triggered the internal programming that caused them to self incinerate.
That left the living. Karl was taken into custody and removed from the facility hours before any management arrived. He was debriefed by Ed, who really was from Homeland Security, or had been, and one of Garcia's men who assumed the part of a senior Homeland Executive. Karl was shown appropriate badges once again, warned against revealing anything he had seen or thought he had seen, and given an option to sign a security agreement that he promised not to reveal anything from the evening before. The penalty, he was told, would be a long stay in one of the less appealing federal prisons. This was all orchestrated to take long enough that his final release was after the matter of the alien engagement had been handled at a much higher level.
Almost as soon as the attack had ended, Garcia was on a private line to Colonel Jones.
"You need to get the White House involved," the Major said. "We have video of the entire engagement, including segments that include the impossible appearance of a number of clones out of nowhere, their vanishing under fire, and the use of the strange alien weapons. It should be enough to support any claims that we have a serious problem and a likely conflict with extraterrestrials. It's time to get the full resources of the country working on this. It's clearly not yet over. We didn't win. The aliens withdrew."
When the Plant Manager arrived some hours later, Ed and his faux Homeland Security partner were waiting. They informed him that the facility had been the site of a small confrontation during the night, and a small terrorist cell had been taken down.
"Unfortunately, your Maintenance Supervisor was involved, and was providing an operating base for the group. I have to inform you that he was killed in the confrontation," Ed told the manager.
"Jeff?" That's impossible. I've known Jeff for years. He simply wouldn't be involved with terrorists."
"Unfortunately, that is the case here," Ed's counterpart replied. "For now, this news must be kept quiet. The panic that might result if the general public became aware of such a group this close to the center of our government would be hard to estimate. The White House is considering what to release. You will be informed through the normal channels on what to tell your employees and what may be released to the press."
Chapter 48
"I hope this is as important as you made it sound," Vice President Rod Davis said harshly when he was escorted into General Hunter's office. "With the President in Asia, I have a full schedule today, and this is going to really jam things up."
"It can't be avoided," General Hunter said as the Vice President took a seat opposite him. "I assume you know Senator Conroy?"
Rod Davis had been close friends with General Hunter for more than twenty years. Long before he ever considered getting involved in politics, and considered the man a close friend. His opinion of the Senator wasn't nearly as complementary, and being from opposite parties, often found the man in opposition to the legislation the President wished to see passed. A former fighter pilot, Davis was truly the President's wingman, and despite his own personal feelings, would support publicly the President's agenda whether he fully agreed or not. He felt that was his position as a member of the party. The President had won the election, and a right to expect support from his people. Any differences of opinion were exchanged privately. The General was aware of Rod's position on this, so he was a bit surprised to find himself in a private meeting with the Senator, especially a meeting where the two men seemed to be in agreement on something Rod knew nothing about as yet.
"Of course," the Vice President replied. "Good morning, Senator," he greeted the man formally. "What is this about?" he asked, wanting to get this meeting behind him so he could return to his packed schedule.
"Something has come up, and it can't be delayed until the return of the President," Senator Conroy said. "The White House must take a position on this immediately, so the Chairman and I decided to inform you, and let you decide how we get word to the President."
"Something that couldn't be handled by a phone call?" the VP asked.
"This must be seen to be understood," the Chairman said. "We will have to ask your indulgence, and have you accompany us to one of the lab areas in the lower levels here in the Pentagon."
The VP was surprised by this. It was unusual for someone at his level to go traipsing around the working areas of any facility. Whatever he needed to know was usually brought to him.
"How long is this going to take?" he asked, a bit irritated at what promised to be a further delay.
"Perhaps an hour," the Senator said, knowing that the VP's schedule would end up being pushed back at least a day, but from his contacts at the White House he also knew that only one of the meetings was really critical.
"Damn it!" he cursed. "By the time I get back, I'll be a couple of hours late. I need too inform my secretary to contact everyone and shift their times around."
"Of course," the Chairman said. "Or I can have my secretary do that for you, so we aren't delayed any more than necessary."
With the responsibility for clearing his schedule passed off, Davis followed the two men out of the office into the impressive waiting area where his two Secret Service escorts waited. While he wasn't covered with as many men as the President, the VP wasn't allowed to go anywhere without suitable protection. The remaining members of his protection detail waited outside with the vehicles that had brought him here. The Pentagon was considered a relatively safe place for the VP to be, and only the two men were needed to escort him.
"We need to take a walk," The VP informed the two men, who fell smoothly into step with the three important men. Two of the Chairman's aides joined the group; powerfu
l men who clearly had seen combat before. They exited into one of the wide busy corridors, walked a hundred yards to one of the special elevators, and headed down to the lower levels. No discussion of the situation took place, despite the VP's burning curiosity about this unusual visit. If it hadn't been for his friendship with the Chairman, he might have insisted on more background before agreeing to visiting this lab or wherever they were going.
The General led the way down the nearly empty corridor on the lower level. Unlike the hallways above, this was deserted, with heavy cyber locked doors guarding access to the widely spaced areas they passed. When they finally reached their destination, General Hunter entered the necessary code, and led the way inside. The VP followed, with the Senator and the two aides bringing up the rear.
The VP was seldom separated from his detail, but this was controlled territory, and something the two Agents were not authorized to witness. The General and Senator were well known dignitaries, and on the lists of those who the VP could meet with privately. The VP gave them instructions to wait just outside the door and nodded to his hosts to proceed. The massive door had only just closed and locked behind them when the VP sensed something wasn't right. He turned to his friend, only to find a familiar looking Government Model .45 pointed his way. The Senator also held a handgun, also directed at the VP. Other men were hurrying into the room, several of them armed, one with a strange looking weapon. He was quickly stripped of his cell phone, watch, and a small tracking device the Secret Service used to monitor his whereabouts.
"What the hell!" he exclaimed.
"Sorry Rod," the General apologized.
"I hope you realize you have just committed treason," Davis said. "From this point on your professional careers are over."
The General looked apologetic, but said, "I'll explain later, assuming this goes as planned. For the moment, I need your cooperation."
"Cooperation to do what? Don't expect too much."
"I need you to take a simple, non invasive medical test?"
"What kind of test?" the VP asked, now really confused.
"An MRI. It'll take thirty minutes or so. Dr. Thompson here will administer it."
"And if I refuse?"
"You'll be taking it anyway, but we'll have to render you unconscious so you can't screw up the results. It'll take longer, and you won't like the aftereffects of the medication."
"I can't believe this is happening," Davis said. "In the Pentagon. Is there some kind of overthrow planned?" That would be ridiculous he realized even as he asked the question.
"All questions will be answered after the MRI is checked," the Senator said. "If it makes you feel any better, every person in this room has undergone the same test. I took mine under very similar conditions to this."
"I guess I don't have much choice," Davis said after a pause. "But this won't be forgotten."
"You've got to be kidding," Davis said more than two hours later when the two men had finished their explanation of events. Among other things he learned that the General had had the VP's scheduled cleared for the day, so there were no conflicts waiting back at his office. "Aliens?"
"We have been aware of the likelihood for some time, but lacked any real proof, and your own skepticism shows why we had to operate secretly until we had something solid. You've seen the videos from the engagement last night. There is one of the weapons, and I can tell you that the technology to do what that thing is capable of simply doesn't exist on Earth."
"And these nodes on the brain are how the clones are controlled?"
The Senator nodded. "Assistant Director Baker of the FBI was a clone. A number of people in key government programs we know to be clones."
"You say several of the clones are people we have seen on the news as fugitives, and they are part of your group? Why would you trust them if this is true?"
"They brought this to my attention," Senator Conroy explained. "They managed to break free of the control. Even so, half of them have been killed. Only three remain with us. They were key in the video you saw, as they are the only ones among us who can operate these weapons, and turned the engagement our way."
"And the scan you had performed on me was to ensure I hadn't somehow been compromised, and turned into a clone?"
"The clones often, let's say usually, don't know what they are. We can't trust anyone who hasn't been cleared."
"How would they have gotten to me? I know you are uncertain about the President, but how would these aliens have gotten to him?"
"We don't know how they got to those they have," the General said. "We don't know how many are affected. Prudence says err on the side of caution. We don't know what we are up against, and now that we have evidence, we need to mobilize the country, quietly and carefully to fight this infiltration."
"And just what do you expect from me?"
"We need White House direction to ensure silence from those at the Power Plant who might wish to question what happened there. Most importantly, we need you to help us bring the President into this group. I know you are uncomfortable with the idea, but he must be scanned as well. Without that, no one who has been a part of this will fully trust him, especially if he has to make some controversial decisions."
"He'll be back in just over ten hours," General Hunter reminded Davis.
"You don't know how many of those beings there are, or where they are based, or hardly anything," Davis objected.
"All tasks to be addressed, and impossible without the resources available to the White House," General Hunter said.
"We don't even know what they look like," the senator added.
"I thought those globes were the aliens," Davis said.
"The few technical experts we have don't believe so. Stephanie, she's one of the clones that is with us, believes those were something the aliens created to engage us. They are able to use our transmission lines to teleport clones, devices and those orbs wherever they want. They appear to like power systems, causing some of our people to speculate they are energy based creatures, but we don't really know."
"Where do we even start?" Davis asked, overwhelmed as he considered the implications.
"We need to clear people and quickly assemble whatever forces we need. We need something to defeat those globes. The handful of alien devices will run out of power soon enough, and we have only three individuals who can use them anyway. And somehow we have to locate where the aliens are hiding. That's just a start," the General said.
"I cannot authorize the things you want," Davis said. "That is the something only the President can do. Any attempt to order anything like what you will need would be immediately questioned and raised to the President for approval."
"You can see why we need you to help us bring him into the group. We would have no way to do so. We couldn't get the access, get past his Secret Service to run the tests we need. It was risky enough hoping to get to you without raising an alarm. You are his friend. Somehow you need to use that to bring him around."
"Just how are we going to do that?" Davis asked.
It was considerably later that VP Davis returned to the White House. His secret Service detail was none the wiser about the events that had transpired while he'd been in the Pentagon, and of the threat to the U.S. and the world. But both had come to know the Vice President well over the past two years and couldn't help noting the concerned look on his face that he hadn't been able to completely conceal as they escorted him back to the office in the armored limo.
Chapter 49
Air Force One rolled to a gentle stop at 10:12 PM EST, delivering POTUS back home three minutes earlier than the Captain had predicted as they'd taken off from Japan nearly a dozen hours earlier. On board was the President, six members of his negotiating team, and the usual contingent of Secret Service Agents tasked with keeping Stuart Morris safe. The President's wife had declined to go on the three-day trip, knowing it would be long hours of meetings, and little time for public glad-handing.
President St
uart Morris, Stu to his inner circle, was sixty-five years old, six-foot two inches tall, with a full head of gray and sand colored hair. He was somewhat overweight, with a rosy face, which many correctly attributed to his penchant for expensive scotch whiskey. He was still married to his college sweetheart after forty-three years together, while their three children were all off making lives for themselves elsewhere.
He was in his second term as president, confident and sure of himself, with less than two years remaining before he turned the helm over to someone new. He'd won the second term by two electoral votes, and one of the smallest margins in the popular vote ever. His party owned the House, but not the Senate. There it was a 49 to 50 standoff, with one Independent vote, which he could often persuade to his cause. Then it became his old friend Rod who decided the outcome. More legislation had passed through the Senate that way than the opposition wanted to think about. Morris didn't care. He pushed legislation that mattered. Not to his party, but to the country. He had a large team of experts, real ones, not those with political motives, and pressed them to tackle some of the serious issues that had sat idle for too long. The fact they were controversial didn't matter to him. What mattered was getting things back on track and firmly enough entrenched that the other party couldn't unravel the progress without a long string of wins that he didn't believe was possible. People were starting to see where he was headed, and a growing support seemed to be forming. He could only hope.
Parked on the tarmac a short distance away was Marine One, the helicopter that would return him to the White House. Never one to miss a PR opportunity, he'd pose for the handful of news photographers that were waiting outside. He wouldn't be long, as a brisk cold breeze was present, and a contingent of reporters waited at the briefing room in the White House to question him regarding the trip. Even this he planned to cut short, as he was tired after the three long days and the bumpy flight that had prevented any meaningful sleep as they crossed the Pacific. The crowds of fans that had often greeted him in the past on his returns were missing tonight, a combination of attrition, time of day, and the cold weather. He was actually glad.