“Who the hell is this? How the hell did you get this number?”
“PresidentConnors, thisisNorman. Irepresentthe peopleofIsdale. Beingthe-” the voice had sped up to become an unintelligible blurb.
Connors couldn’t take the loud, shrill voice. He pushed the receiver from his ear, frowning.
“Look here, asshole! You call this number one more time and by god I will have every agent at my disposal hunting you. Don’t test me!”
“Pres-”
Connors slammed the phone down again. “Miriam! Get in here!”
Miriam hurried into his office. She adjusted her blue dress before smiling. “Yes, sir?”
“I just got hit with another robocall. Track it down. The next time that phone rings I want tracking in place, you hear me? Get to it and get Walter Fanmer on the phone.”
“Yes, sir.”
Miriam hurried back to her desk. She had to remember to call the man Fawnmer, he was so picky about people pronouncing his name wrong. She picked up the phone and dialed a number.
“Security.”
“Yes, Albert, this is Miriam.”
“Hey, Mrs. Roster, how are you today?”
“Not good, Albert. President Connors received another robocall. I need you to trace the line and get back to me quickly. He has a bee in his bonnet and won’t sit still until he swats it.”
“All right, Mrs. Roster. I’ll have something for you in a few minutes.”
“Thank you, Albert.”
Miriam Roster pushed the button to hang up the phone to dial a second number.
“Secret Service.”
“President Connors for Walter Fanmer, please,” said Miriam.
“Fanmer.”
“Hey, Walter, how are you?”
“Good, Miriam. What can I do for you?”
“Hold for the President.”
Miriam pressed her intercom button.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Fanmer for you, sir. Line two.”
“About time,” the President released the intercom and picked up his phone. He pressed the button for line two. “Walter?”
“Yes, Mr. President?”
“Walter, I have had the misfortune of being queried with two robocalls on my private line in the space of an hour. Do you have an explanation for this odd behavior?”
“Sorry, sir. I don’t. I’m on it.”
“Take those bastards out. I’ve got too much going on for nonsense like this.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll make some calls.”
“Good.”
President Connors hung up the phone. He cleared his head and stood to rehearse his speech. He held the papers in his left hand and began motioning with his right while mumbling. He went on in this manner for some time. Then, the phone rang and broke his concentration. Connors immediately thought of the robocaller and smiled. He would keep him on the line and catch him this time. This threat to his peace would come to a swift end. He picked up the phone.
“Hello.”
“Pres-i-dent Con-nors,” chimed the robotic voice. The voice sped up to normal speak. It sounded like a man of Connors age and background. “President Connors, this is Norman. I represent the people of Isdale.”
Connors chuckled. He was happy to finally understand the voice and even happier to know the caller had no way of knowing of his imminent doom. “Is that a fact now?”
“Yes, President Connors.”
“And just where is this, what you call it, Isdale?”
“Isdale is our home planet in the constellation Virgo.”
He chuckled again. “Home planet you say.”
“We are from what you term outer space, President Connors. We wish to communicate with you.”
“Of course, of course, of course.” Connors looked at his wristwatch to gauge how much time had passed. He pushed his intercom button. Put his hand over the phone and said in a low voice, “they’re on the phone now, trace this call.”
A crackling sounded followed by a, “yes, sir.”
“So . . . you call yourself Norman do you?”
“May we speak with you, President Connors?”
“Why is that?”
“You are the only sentient life-form we have come across. It would be an honor to meet you, President Connors.”
“Oh, and it would be an honor to meet you as well. Why don’t you come on over and introduce yourself in person?”
“That would require time and preparation. We have not acclimated to your environment. We need two days for the process to complete. After that, I have been assured we shall be able to converse in greater detail. I’m calling to inform you of our presence and to make introductions.”
Before Connors could respond, a man walked into the room with Miriam. She directed him to the sofa and he waved at the President before sitting.
“Well, thanks for the introduction, we will talk very soon.”
Connors hung up the phone. He walked over with a bright smile and shook hands with a man wearing a black suit and a white earpiece around his left ear.
“Sir, we got him.”
“All right, Fanmer, good deal. You find this turd and bring him here. I’m going to teach him about accessing my private line.”
“It will take some time,” said Fanmer. “We tracked the signal to North Carolina, in the Appalachian mountains. He might be dug in pretty good there.”
“I don’t want excuses or delays. Find him and get him here, Fanmer. Get going and keep me up to date.”
“My team is outside and ready to go, sir.”
Connors shook his hand with gusto. Another problem eliminated. He saw the man out and returned to his speech. He walked the floors and rehearsed with a little extra umph in his step. Two days my ass, thought Connors, I will find those bastards today and skin them alive.
* * *
Later that day, a lone helicopter sped toward Mount Mitchell in North Carolina. The chopper came from the eastern side directly from a warship off the coast of North Carolina. A group of three soldiers maneuvered the chopper through a ravine up the east side of the mountain. The pilot navigated to the top of the mountain while his copilot worked instruments trying to pinpoint the source of the mysterious call.
“I’m not getting anything, Burke.”
“All right, Jake, I’ll go up and over to the other side,” said Burke, the pilot.
His copilot, Jake, turned to the man sitting behind them in the back seat. “You got anything, Ray?”
Ray stared at a small screen in his hand that beeped. “Faint traces but nothing specific. Maybe we will do better on the other side.”
“I hear you,” said Jake.
“All right fellas,” said Burke, “here we go. Holler if you get anything.”
The chopper descended the west side of Mount Mitchell. Jake Strom and Ray Williams watched the flashing lights and listened intently to the intermittent beeps from their instruments. As they went lower, the beeps grew further apart. After a few more feet of descending, they altogether stopped.
“Hold it, Burke,” said Jake, “I lost the signal.”
“Me too,” said Ray.
“All right, hang on.”
Burke shifted the cyclic stick in his hand and the helicopter swung around to the right and pulling back, the chopper rose. They were now going back up the mountain from the north. Both machines sprang to life. Jake turned to Ray and each smiled and nodded.
“We got it!” Jake’s enthusiasm rose.
Burke nodded and listened to the steady stream of beeps. He let the sound guide him. As he went higher, the beeps came stronger and faster. A steady stream of beeps became a continuous loud tone. Looking through the windshield, Burke saw a hole in the mountain.
“Hey, fellas,” said Burke, “look at that.”
“Wow,” said Ray from the back seat.
“Has that always been there?” asked Jake.
“Hell if I know,” said Burke. “We are going to have to find some of the locals to ans
wer that one.”
“No way,” said Ray. “You’re not heading back, are you? Our signal is coming from in there. Let’s take a look.”
“Can we fit in there, Burke?” asked Jake.
Burke measured in his head while mumbling. He smiled. “I’m game if you guys are?”
“Are you sure we will fit?” repeated Jake.
“It looks big enough,” said Burke.
“Our signal is definitely coming from inside there, guys.” Ray said.
“Hold on,” said Burke. Burke turned the dial on his radio. “Nighthawk to Base 10, come in Base 10.”
“Base 10,” said a man’s voice, over the radio.
“Base 10, this is Nighthawk. It looks like our suspects are hikers, operating from a base inside Mount Mitchell. Shall we pursue?”
“Turn on your cameras, Nighthawk.”
Burke flipped a switch and a red light came on above an outside camera at the base of the chopper. At that same instance, a monitor turned on in the Situation Room of the White House. The President sat in front of the monitor. To his right sat the Vice President. Around them were Miriam, his secretary, and Fanmer, the head of his Secret Service.
“Watch this,” said a jovial President Connors. “I’m going to show those robocallers who the hell they are messing with.”
“What is your order, Base 10?”
A maniacal laugh erupted from the President as he picked up the transmitter and pushed the button to speak. “Nighthawk, this is Base 10, you have a go. Get in there and give them hell. I want those bastards in custody and in front of me in the next hour.”
“Roger, over and out, Base 10.”
“All right,” said Connors, sitting back in his chair, “watch my boys work.”
The entire room watched the monitor. It became a split screen showing the hole in front of them on the left half of the screen and showing the helicopter crew on the right.
Ray shifted in the back seat, wanting to get the best view he could. Jake turned on the spotlight and moved closer to the glass for a glimpse of the unknown. Burke held the controls tightly as he maneuvered the chopper forward. To his surprise, the chopper’s whirling blades would fit easily into the cavern. He maneuvered within seventy feet of the entrance and stopped. Burke turned on a second spotlight and all three men gazed at the opening with wide open mouths. They looked intently. A low hum came to them, reverberating through the helicopter.
Suddenly, the red phone in the Situation Room rang. All heads turned to the phone. This was most unusual since this was a private phone used between nations during critical negotiations. President Connors turned to Miriam, expecting her to get the phone. She gulped.
Miriam walked to the red phone. A shaky hand reached out and picked it up and put it to her ear. “Hello?” Miriam’s eyes grew big. She looked at President Connors and held out the phone to him. “It’s for you.”
All eyes turned to the President. In the time it took him to get up and make his way to the phone, a thousand thoughts of destruction ran through his head. He was sure the others thought similar. “Hello?”
The voice he had heard in his office had made its way to this private line. “President Connors. Remove the flying object from our space. Immediately.”
It struck him odd. The voice held no anger or passion. It was the same dull monotone voice. “Excuse me?”
“If your craft comes closer, it will be destroyed. Please remove it.”
“Go to hell!”
President Connors slammed the phone down, and for good measure, he took it off the hook. The others watched him return to his seat. Questions ran through their minds but no one said a word. Connors sat, staring straight ahead at the monitor of the flying chopper. He put on a brave front, but the call unnerved him. As he watched, he thought of how a robocaller could succeed in getting to him in two different rooms. He hid his nervousness, pretending he was in full control.
Connors glanced from the monitor to the phone and back. He watched the chopper move toward the hole in the side of the mountain and a feeling of foreboding overtook him.
On the chopper, Burke hadn’t heard the warning, but was a bundle of nerves nevertheless. He clenched the cyclic tightly and moved closer to the opening, making every effort to peer inside and uncover its mysteries.
Ahead of them, a light turned on. It grew in intensity, filling the chamber. The red light pulsed. The men looked sharply, filled with anticipation. The light stopped its pulsing and stayed a bright red. From the darkness of the cavern came a thin beam. The beam shot out quickly and struck the chopper. Instantly, light covered the chopper.
The left side of the screen cut out. For a fraction of a second, the right side showed the horror. They could only guess that it was a time delay. They watched each of the men fall into the shadow of the red beam of light. They all glowed red. A second later, the screen went blank. Miriam yelped and put her hand to her mouth. Connors stared blankly at the screen. He and the others watched the blank screen, imagining the pieces of the chopper falling from the sky.
Every soul in the room knew the chopper exploded and the three-man crew died.
No one moved or made a sound.
Miriam’s cell phone rang. She came out of her trance and reached into her pocket. She looked at the screen to identify the caller. It read: unknown caller. She put the phone to her ear. “Yes?”
The others watched the remaining color drain from the middle-aged woman’s cheeks. She walked to the red phone and placed the phone on the receiver and waited. A second later it rang. Miriam pressed a button below the phone. She looked at the President. “It’s for you, sir.”
President Connors gulped, his hands covered in sweat. He wiped them as he made his way to the phone. Before he could arrive, a whistle came over the loudspeaker. President Connors stopped in his tracks and stared at the phone, afraid to come closer. His heart beat faster. He rubbed his hands and cleared his throat. He would talk from a safe distance.
“Yes?”
The speaker crackled. “I trust you will not hang up on me again, President Connors.”
“Um, no.” Connors looked back at the others.
“My name is Norman. I am the leader of the people of Isdale. We are inside the mountain at the entrance you saw. We mean you no harm. You are the only sentient life-form we have encountered outside our solar system. We wish to communicate with you. Is that possible?”
“Um, yes, yes it is.” Connors brushed the back of his graying hair. It felt like needles pricking his skin. He rubbed the back of his sweating neck, but the feeling would not leave him.
“We are preparing a place to allow us to meet and communicate. We ask that you come to this location in two days. We will complete the structure at that time. Only bring one other with you and tell no others. We await your arrival at noon, two days from now. Thank you.”
Connors continued listening but only heard static.
“Sir?” asked Miriam, looking for direction.
“Um,” he pointed at the phone, unable to get a word out. Miriam pressed the button. Silence fell in the room. All eyes fell on Connors. He rubbed his chin, thinking. “Um, everyone take a seat.” He waited until Miriam joined the others. His legs were about to give out on him. “That was-that was, um, that was Norman. He says he and his people are from outside our solar system and they want to talk to us.” Why he told them what they had heard, he didn’t know. He needed to say something and that was all he could think to say.
“You got to be kidding,” said Fanmer.
“I don’t believe it,” said the Vice President. “It’s got to be some kind of trick.”
“You saw the chopper,” said Miriam.
“So what,” said the Vice President, “that was some secret weapon by one of our enemies.”
“No,” said Connors, “this has been going on all day. We don’t have enemies with this level of sophistication.”
“Mr. President—”
“No, Jason,” Connors s
aid to his Vice President. “Walter, get a team up to that mountain and get me a report. Make it a two-man team, I don’t want any leaks. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Mr. President,” said Walter Fanmer. He rose and left the room.
“Miriam,” said Connors. “I want you to write up a report of everything that happened. For my eyes only, understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Miriam left for her desk to complete her assignment.
President Connors turned to the only man left in the room, his Vice President. “Look, Jason, I am going to visit with whomever that was that called. We need answers and that’s the only way to get them. I can bring one other person with me. In case it is a trap, I am not taking you. I want you in a protected bunker at an undisclosed location until further notice. Take the Secretary of Defense with you. Tell him you are running drills, nothing more. With any luck I will be back and we will go from there.”
“You’re the President.”
“Yes, I am.” He tried to not make his words harsh though he strongly suspected he had.
Vice President Reilly gathered his strength and stood. He was massive in size, shaped like an orange. He waddled from the room with a sneer plastered across his large face.
Connors sat in his chair staring straight ahead. He hoped it was a joke or that Reilly was correct—that he could take. If it truly were aliens in the mountain, that would open a slew of questions. All of which having answers he would not wish to face. He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer for the men he sent into harm’s way.
President Connors got up and walked down the hall to go to his Presidential residence. His wife and children were there. They could provide him with comfort. He couldn’t reveal what he knew to them, but he could bask in their glow. Their ignorance would be a welcome sight. He climbed the steps two at a time. He needed this.
Chapter Nine: Fanmer
Fanmer went to the communications room of the USS Bohman. “Clear the room.” He watched the crew take off their headphones, get up, and leave the room. He gave the room a cursory look before sitting at the main console. He put on a set of headphones, turned knobs and pushed buttons. Noise-filled static came through his headset in a long whine before clearing.
Zombie Invasion Page 7