THE END - Book I - Of THE EVENT SERIES

by Marshall Huffman

  “How you doing?” he said gently.

  No response came back. Willie reached out and felt his face. It was cold. He felt around and located his wrist and felt for his pulse. There was none. Mr. Jameson had become the sixth victim.

  “Well, Willie boy, it can’t get any worse. It can only go up from here,” he muttered to himself.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  NORAD

  The North American Aerospace Defense Command, generally known by the acronym of NORAD, has been the backbone of the United States threat deterrent since the Cold War. Their motto of Detect, Deter, and Defend is exactly what their mission has been in an effort to keep America safe.

  General Abraham Martin had only been in command of the NORAD facility at Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado, for three months but the overall transition of power had been relatively smooth. While America’s enemies were still plotting against us, it was for the most part much more peaceful today than during the early 60s and 70s.

  During the last few years, NORAD had gone from being our frontline of defense to a ‘ready’ facility. ‘Ready’ meaning that budget constraints had placed it in more of a supporting role.

  In theory it could be brought back to operating capacity in only a few hours. A few hours in a nuclear attack wouldn’t do America much good. It would all be over in a few hours.

  Fortunately NORAD is not just one facility buried deep inside Cheyenne Mountain. It is actually a network of interlinking military bases that form a protective web across Canada and America. The bases extend from Elmendorf Air Force Base in Alaska to Tyndall Air Force Base in Florida. The facility at Cheyenne was essentially the nerve center or hub of the operations at one time.

  ****

  General Martin, a stocky, light skinned African-American had been passed over once for the position as the NORAD commander but his perseverance had finally paid off, that and the fact that it was no longer the critical center of the defense network. Not particularly popular with the men and women who worked under him, he fully understood the politics of the military and had put his knowledge to good use in moving up the chain of command.

  Walking down the one third of a mile long tunnel to the entrance at the North Portal with its massive twenty-five ton blast doors always excited him. Even though everyone in the facility knew who he was, he still had to sign in and go through the routine check-in procedures.

  “Good day General.”

  “Captain Francis,” he said, placing his hand on the print identification scanning screen, often referred to as the PISS screen. A whole repertoire of jokes was associated with this part of the identification recognition process.

  “Thank you General,” the Captain said, handing his badge back to him as well as checking the imprint on the screen to make sure he really was General Martin.

  He saluted and Martin returned it and clipped his badge back in place. Stepping through the blast doors was like entering into a different world. The place never ceased to amaze him. The main chamber reaching 588 feet long and 60 feet high has four branch chambers that stretch 335 feet long, 58 feet high, and 32 feet wide. It is often difficult for visitors to comprehend the immensity of the structure.

  “Good morning General,” his attaché said as he entered his office.

  “Morning Lieutenant. What’s on the HS?”

  “Sir,” he replied handing over the Hot Sheet that contained the various important facts from last night’s operations.

  The HS was divided into seven different areas. Each was for one of the critical mission aspects of NORAD. As per the military’s fondness for acronyms, they were listed by such things as AWC (Air Warning Center), JSOC (Joint Space Operations Center) and the MCC (Missile Correlations Center). Each of the seven had a space for time, date, incident code, and any relevant comments.

  “03:10 we launched two F-22’s and two CF-18 fighters to intercept an unknown threat?”

  “Yes sir. Around 03:08 we got a blip on the screens and when we got no response from the bogies we scrambled the fighters.”

  “It says no visual contact made. What went down?”

  “They converged on the contact coordinates but found nothing. The center gave them constantly updated directions but they didn’t see any contacts. It is listed as WA.”

  “I can see that. A weather anomaly is nothing more than saying we didn’t find squat.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “So what happened that isn’t on the report?”

  “I would rather not speak for the pilots, sir.”

  “I see. This is going to be one of those UFO encounters that no one wants to admit,” the General said, tossing the clipboard on his desk.

  “Possibly, General.”

  “Get hold of the pilots and have them get a transcribed report to me immediately. I also want the OBR tapes sent to me,” he said, taking off his hat and sitting down.

  “The onboard recordings are already on their way. I thought you would want to listen to them so I sent for them the first thing this morning.”

  “Good. Good job.”

  “Coffee, sir?”

  “Yes, thank you,” he said taking the steaming mug of hot liquid. “No other incidents were reported? I heard two men from OIW talking about something going on last night. I just caught a brief bit but it sounded like they had an alert as well, but I don’t see it on the HS.”

  “Well, I think they decided it wasn’t really anything. Just a momentary hit on a target but it lasted only one or two sweeps and then it was gone,” the Lieutenant said.

  Anytime Operational Intelligence Watch picks up any kind of threat from space it usually involves a lot of documentation and explanation. OIW personnel seldom want to commit to paper unless they know for a fact they could explain what happened in very specific terms.

  “What did they conclude?” the General asked, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his stomach.

  “An equipment glitch.”

  “Ah,” was all he said.

  “That’s all I know about it, sir,” he said fidgeting with the General’s name plate on the desk.

  “All right Lieutenant. If you hear anything more, you’ll let me know.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Any VIP’s today?”

  “No sir. Nothing on the board for today.”

  “Good. I’m damn tired of showing people around. I’m not a tour guide,” he said as a way of dismissing his attaché.

  ****

  General Martin was not the sharpest pencil in the box but he understood the politics of the military and used it effectively. He had been passed over once for the NORAD command and rather than fighting it, he quietly let it be known that he would use the diversity card if necessary to get his next promotion. The political atmosphere being what it was, the Air Force felt it would be prudent to simply promote him.

  Now days, few threats were going to come as a result of an invasion by air or missile attack. They decided to give him the command for eighteen months and then ship him some place where he couldn’t complain or threaten to use his race as leverage.

  “Sir, the OBR tapes are here,” the intercom reported.

  “Good. Bring them in. I want to hear them right away.”

  A few seconds later his door opened and the attaché brought in the tapes from the four fighters that had been scrambled. He queued the first tape and listened to the routine chatter between the base and the plane. He skipped forward to where they arrived at the designated coordinates.

  “Lima three. We are at 45,000 feet and have no visual at this time.”

  “Roger that. You should see the object just at your two o’clock at 48,000.”

  “Negative on contact. Viper do you see anything?”

  “Negative. Not a thing.”

  “VH 24, it is just to your right. Between two and three o’clock. It should be clearly visible. You are only 5,000 feet from it.”

  “Anyone see anything?” the pilot of VH 24 asked.

  T
he other three replied negative as well.

  “Look out! It is turning right toward you. Evasive action. Evasive action,” came the frantic voice from ground control.

  A garbled message followed by AH 24 saying, “I don’t see a damn thing. I can’t evade what I can’t see.”

  “It’s gone,” came the muted reply.

  “Lima three, we have no visual of any object at these coordinates. We are returning to base.”

  “Roger that. The CO wants to debrief you when you RTB.”

  “Roger. Debrief with the CO when we return to base.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Viper, did you see anything?”

  “Not a thing. I just about broke my neck trying to look in all directions at the same time. If something was there, it was invisible.”

  “Oh good. We can report a ghost plane. That will do our careers a lot of good.”

  The General played the other three tapes but each one was much the same. None of them had a visual on the object they were chasing. It was clear that none of them wanted to list this as a UFO encounter. None of the pilots even mentioned the words UFO.

  “Sir, OIW is here and would like to speak to you.”

  “Send him in.”

  Colonel Webber was a no nonsense career military man who, while also passed over for promotion on several occasions, was one of the most knowledgeable people in the NORAD complex. His only drawback was that he was quite direct and frank. Too much for the likes of many of those above him. He simply told it like it was and let the chips land where they may. He came into the office and saluted the General.

  “General. I have last night’s log. One of my men told me of an incident but didn’t report it. I am here to correct that indiscretion,” he said bluntly.

  “I see. OIW had an event last night?”

  “Yes sir. As you well know General, we picked up a blip on our SAT-5 at 03:17. It was apparent for two sweeps and then it was gone. I realize that may not mean anything by itself but that coincides with the exact time the object our fighters were looking for vanished. For lack of a better word,” he said, standing at attention.

  “Relax Colonel. Take a seat.”

  “I’m fine sir.”

  “Alright. So what are you suggesting?”

  “Sir, the two are linked. I doubt it is a coincidence that at the exact moment they disappeared off of AWC screens a bogie appeared on our SAT-5, General.”

  “So, you think the two are directly related?”

  “Of course.”

  “Colonel the AWC’s assessment was that the bogie was at an altitude of 48,000 feet. If memory serves me correct, SAT-5 monitors orbital or near orbital occurrences. I don’t think the two can be related.”

  “Begging the General’s pardon, the SAT – 5 monitors everything since the last upgrade. We can go as low as 20,000 feet. 48,000 feet is certainly within our WOS,” the Colonel replied.

  The General sat, tapping his pen on his desk blotter. He hated dealing with Colonel Webber. The man got under his skin.

  “All right Colonel. What do you attribute this incident to?”

  “I believe something entered our space and when the fighters arrived it took off to wherever it came from.”

  “You’re saying a UFO encounter happened last night?”

  “I’m saying, General, that when we scramble fighters because AWC detects something and at the exact moment SAT-5 picks something up, it can’t just be coincidence.”

  “You’re wrong Colonel. That is exactly what it is. Some minor glitch affected them. An errant bounce of a signal or something caused both systems to pick up a nonexistent signal. We are simply not going to go yelling the sky is falling. UFOs are not landing on my watch.”

  “Sir. I went back over the logs for the past year. Day by day and hour by hour. This is the third time this has happened in the last ten months. Don’t you find that strange and alarming?” the Colonel asked.

  “I find it unusual but three times in a year is hardly a space invasion or whatever you are suggesting,” General Martin said, tossing his pen on the desk.

  “So, if I understand the General correctly, I am to just let this go?”

  “What I’m saying Colonel, is that unless you can show me a reasonable explanation or offer some solid proof that something has invaded our air space, I am not going to start sending out alarms. I doubt that the President would be very happy with me if I reported one of my officers had a hunch that something more than a glitch was causing the blips. He would want to know what proof I had and I should tell him what? My OIW head thinks it might be happening? No Colonel, you show me something solid and then I’ll make that report.”

  “Sir…”

  “No. It was an equipment glitch and that’s all. Do I make myself clear Colonel Webber?”

  “Yes sir. Quite clear.”

  “Good then, dismissed.”

  “Permission to speak freely sir,” Webber requested.

  General Martin leaned back in his chair, looking at the Colonel. The damn fool didn’t know when to quit. No wonder he was still a Colonel he thought.

  “Yes Colonel. What is it?”

  “General this is not just an equipment glitch. Something else is happening. I can’t say for sure how I know it but I just do. All of these incidents are happening at exactly the same time. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. You know as well as I do that our systems are backed up three and four times. The chance of all of the equipment going on the fritz at the same time is less than one in ten zillion.”

  “I understand Colonel. Really I do, but I need more than just a feeling. You want to keep looking, that’s fine with me. In fact that is more than just fine. I applaud your tenacity. But, having said that, I am not going to raise a big stink until we have something I can point to. You have to understand that, Colonel.”

  “Yes sir. I intend to keep looking if it’s all right with you.”

  “Please do, and keep me informed if you do find anything.”

  “Yes sir, thank you sir.”

  As soon as Colonel Webber left he called the Lieutenant.

  “Bring me Colonel Webber’s service jacket.”

  “Yes sir.”

  The General wanted to make a note of the conversation. He wanted to start documenting the comments and attitude of Colonel Webber.

  ****

  The attaché had just stepped into the room when a series of klaxon horns, bells and sirens started reverberating through the mountain.

  “What the hell?” the General said, jumping up from behind his desk.

  “I…I don’t know. I’ve never heard them all go off like that. Not even in a drill,” the Lieutenant replied, starting to rush out of the office.

  Both men dashed into the central corridor where they found other technicians and officers running around. No one seemed to know what was going on. The General stopped a NCO rushing by.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Sir, I have no idea. Everything is going nuts. I…” he started to say but just then a loud rumble reverberated through the entire mountain and the floors shook.

  “What in the hell is happening?” the General shouted but no one seemed to notice or care.

  They were all ducking for cover as chunks of granite began to cascade down and bounce off the steel supports. Several large chunks landed in the main chamber sending everyone scattering for cover. It simply wasn’t possible. The floor was supported by over 1,300 huge shock absorbers. The lights went off and a second later the emergency generators came on causing the entire chamber to be cast in an eerie glow.

  “Damn it. Someone had better tell me what is happening,” the General demanded.

  His tirade bounced off the walls of the giant chamber but still no one offered an answer.

  ****

  “Sir, we have no outside communications and all of our equipment is showing blank screens,” Captain Wyler of CCC told the General.

  “And just how is that possible?”


  “The only thing that makes sense is some kind of EMP burst that fried everything.”

  “Inside NORAD? And that makes sense to you, does it Captain?”

  “Sir, nothing else makes sense either. It is possible we were hit with a directed burst that knocked us totally offline,” Wyler replied.

  “Captain, that is simply not possible. This place was designed to withstand the EMP from a direct nuclear bomb hit. So how is that possible?”

  “I honestly don’t know. We are cut off from everything so there is no way to confirm or deny it.”

  “None of the outside cameras, radiation or listening devices are functioning?”

  “No sir. Not one.”

  “Could you explain how someone could bomb the hell out of us and we not know it until the smoke clears? Can you explain that to me Captain?”

  “No sir, I cannot. I don’t know that’s what happened but nothing else makes any sense either. Even the direct lines to the Pentagon and White House are out. As far as we can tell, no one else is outside those blast doors,” the Captain replied.

  “Son, I want you to get everyone together in the war room in ten minutes. Tell them to come prepared. I will demote the first son of a bitch who says they don’t have a clue as to what just happened.”

  “Sir?”

  “Damn it, just get them,” he shouted.

  The officer hurried off to get the other department heads. His attaché came up and handed him a note.

  “How could that many people be hurt?”

  “That is just the wounded. Six more are dead.”

  “Dead? How the hell…”

  “Rock slides.”

  “I simply don’t understand any of this. We are in the most secure place in the world and people are getting hurt and getting killed and we don’t know squat.”

  “I’d say that is a fair assessment, General,” the Lieutenant replied.

  ****

  It was closer to fifteen minutes later when all seven departments were represented in the situational war room. General Martin had been pacing back and forth in front of a large white board.

  “Gentlemen. I’m not sure where to start. This is just too bizarre, for lack of a better word.”