Alien Storm

by Ken Bebelle

  It was as if she could see through the barricade over her eyes, as if she could see through the ship itself. Cam took in a long draw of air, and when she did she realized she could feel the ship. She could sense where the ship breathed air to feed into its engines. She flexed her arms against her restraints, and she could feel the guns along the underbelly.

  Hope rose in her chest, spilling out in a gasp. She could see. She was flying. I’m coming home.

  Eighteen

  A Round on the House

  Phillips

  Phillips clicked off the holo. It was never pleasant having a conversation with Senator Jackson. But like peeling shrimp, it was a chore that couldn’t be avoided if you wanted to get to the good stuff. She held the leash, and he knew it. He’d sat on the news of Alvarez and Jones’ capture as long as he could, but the higher ups needed to know. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. A few moments peace wouldn’t hurt. Maybe some peace and some Scotch as well.

  Hestia chimed, breaking the quiet darkness in his office. “Colonel Phillips, Lieutenant Kennedy is waiting outside your office.”

  Phillips sighed. His favorite bottle was inches away in the lower drawer of his desk, but it would have to wait.

  “Thank you, Hestia. Please tell her to come in.”

  “Yes, Colonel.” The ceiling panels brightened as Hestia opened the door.

  The diminutive soldier stalked in, waves of barely leashed energy rippling from her body. Her cold weather gear was filthy, the once white suit smeared with black ash and other indeterminable sludge.

  “Kennedy.”

  Lt. Kennedy stopped and stood at rigid attention on the opposite side of his desk. She thrummed with tension. “Sir, I’m here to verbally deliver my after-action report.”

  Phillips’ eyebrows rode up a bit at that. Not that Kennedy was much of a rule follower, but this was unorthodox even for her.

  Best get this over with. “All right, soldier. Let me get Gunny in here so I don’t have do this twice.” He looked up to the ceiling, “Hestia, I need Ed in here, pronto.”

  “Yes, Colonel.”

  He reached for his tablet and pulled up Victory team’s footage from the Canadian sortie. He took the best footage and transferred it to the holos behind him. He turned his back on Kennedy while he watched. He had actually watched most of this live, so he sped through it this time around. He could feel Kennedy stewing quietly behind him. Good. She needed to learn how to rein it in.

  He grunted in satisfaction at the continued success of the Raven’s stealth capabilities. He’d fought tooth and nail to nab a few of those for the Dubs. With talent like Ace, his Dubs could regain the skies in these new birds. He would have to get Stan started on Raven 2.0 soon, though. No reason to rest on success.

  Upon reaching the footage of Victory team being surrounded by the Ringheads, he slowed the vid speed down.

  The door to his office opened and shut. Phillips didn’t need to look to know that Ed was here. He was the only one on base with the brass to enter this room without knocking. Kennedy chose this moment to begin tapping her foot.

  Mackenie’s helmet footage showed the greatest detail of the moment Kennedy was thrown into what they had presumed was a downed jumpship. Phillips expanded the screen to fill the wall, playing it at half speed, soaking in all the details. He backed the footage up and replayed certain segments, to cement the order of events in his mind. When he felt Kennedy had marinated long enough, he spun his chair around to face her again.

  Ed stood at parade rest by the door. Their eyes met, and Ed gave him the slightest of nods. Good to see they were in agreement here.

  He steepled his hands before him and took the plunge. “Ok Lieutenant, I assume you’re here to tell me something I can’t see for myself on the video?”

  Kennedy stilled her foot, returning to attention. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

  Phillips grimaced and ran his hand over his buzzcut. Getting a little scraggly in the back, due for a trim. A tremor of tension ran up his neck. “Every time you say those words, my blood pressure goes up a notch. Why is that, Kennedy?”

  She maintained her rigid posture, staring at a spot over his head. “I don't know, sir. Must be something to do with my natural charm.”

  Phillips leaned back into his chair, feeling it creak, and studied her face. If he didn’t know any better, he might have thought Ed was smiling. This would be easier if I didn’t like her so much. She reminded him of himself, when he was younger. Stupider. Just needed to polish off some rough edges--some, not all--and he saw some fine officer material beating within that uniform. And to be fair, she rarely argued with him, but she had a knack of raising some uncomfortable truths that tested his patience.

  The hell with it. Phillips knew no amount of stick would change her, he might as well try the carrot. He leaned forward and opened the bottom drawer, pulled out his bottle of Lagavulin with two glasses, clinked them onto the desktop.

  He pointed to the chair opposite him. “Sit. If we're going to argue we might as well enjoy it.” He poured two fingers for each of them.

  “Sir?”

  Ah, this he liked. She was confused. Kennedy probably hadn't expected this.

  He pointed again at the chair. “Sit. That's an order.” He placed a glass in front of the chair with another clink on the desktop. “Drink. That's an order, too.”

  He raised his own glass and savored the aroma while Kennedy sat. She perched herself on the edge of the stiff wooden seat. He abhorred cushions. Encouraged people to stay too long.

  She took her glass, and after a curious sniff, she opened her maw and downed a big gulp. Figures. No dainty sips from this one. He watched her face closely and when her eyebrows lifted in surprise and enjoyment, he allowed himself a small dose of satisfaction.

  Phillips rolled his glass and allowed himself a small sip. “Young Scotch is brash, and sometimes abrasive. But you need to know how to appreciate it in order to understand how it will mature--” He waved his glass at Kennedy. “--to become the fine product you’re enjoying now.”

  He set down his glass and looked at her intently. “Now, you had something to add?”

  Kennedy set her glass carefully back on his desk. She looked Phillips square in the eye. “They weren’t there to kill us, sir. At least, not all of us. They came for me. They nearly got me, too!” Her voice, never that well modulated anyway, rose in volume at that last statement.

  She shook her head and closed her eyes for a brief moment. “Those blue fuckers baited that trap and I fell for it hook, line, and sinker like a stupid fish.” Her resolve seemed to run out of her in a rush and she slumped into the chair.

  Phillips grunted. “You’re not stupid, soldier. Don’t insult me for bringing you to the Dubs. You did your duty as best you saw fit.”

  He leaned forward. “No one’s going to fault you for that. Well, except for you.”

  He lifted the glass bottle and poured himself another finger. He was going to need it for this next part. “The truth of the matter, Kennedy, is we wondered when this was going to happen.”

  Her head snapped up. Phillips saw equal parts anger and confusion in her eyes. He pushed on, no reason to stop now, giving her the broad details of Alvarez and Jones’ current disposition. As he talked Kennedy’s eyes widened, then narrowed, her gaze hardening on him.

  “The only common marker between those two was some our most successful cybernetic integration.” He nodded towards her arm. “At least as successful as yours.”

  He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the holo, frozen on Mackenzie’s view of the downed jumpship. “This is pretty compelling proof that, as you said, they were looking for you. Or someone like you.”

  There was no more confusion in Kennedy’s eyes. Only glittering anger. She stood, planting both fists on his desk, leaning into him. “You sent me and Mack out there as bait.”

  Ed took a half step forward. Phillips raised a hand to him to wait, keeping his eyes on Kenn
edy. “No, I sent you out there to do your job. And I trusted Lee, and Mackenzie, and the rest of your squad to back you up as needed.”

  He finished his drink and set the glass down. “We had no idea what the Ringhead’s intentions were. Hell, we still don’t. But I know this--” He jabbed a calloused finger at her. “--whacking Hunters one at a goddamned time isn’t our path to victory, no matter how much you may enjoy it. What you need, is to start to see the bigger picture, because like it or not, we’ve shown you a big fucking piece of it.”

  Kennedy sagged a little under his onslaught, and Phillips pushed on. The hardest metals had to survive the forge. He stayed seated but Kennedy dropped back a step like he’d moved into her space. “I need you to step up to the plate, Lieutenant. I have Flynn leading Alpha, but with Alvarez’s situation, he may become compromised. I need you and Victory working with Alpha. I need backup. The Wolves need backup. Hell, all of fucking humanity needs it.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “I need you to understand that this isn’t just a damn bug hunt. You say you’re one of our best. Now you get to play at the big table and show me.”

  She didn’t say anything. He waited, the silence in the room drawing out. Phillips began to worry. She was mouthy as hell and he’d never managed to shut her up before. He filled the silence by tipping another finger of Scotch into his tumbler.

  Finally, she began to move, her characteristic energy reappearing. Her foot tapped a few times and she shifted her weight from side to side. Her eyes flicked from Phillips, to Gunny, and back. “What’s going to change? Will I still be leading Victory? Mack is integrating well--I don’t want to jeopardize what we’ve built.”

  Phillips put up his hands, placating. “Your role is the same. You’ll still roll up to me through Gunny.”

  He pointed a finger at Gunny. “In fact, I want you to work with Gunny, starting now. The two of you will identify three members of your team who you feel will be best suited for … unorthodox missions.” He grimaced. “Hell, we’re fighting goddamned aliens, so they have to be ready for anything.”

  He could see the gears turning in her head already. “When the time comes, I’ll call you up with the three you’ve chosen. You’ll likely be working with Keenan, with three from Alpha. As I said, your assignments may be unorthodox, so I need you to remember that there is a bigger picture we are working towards. Am I clear?”

  She straightened slowly, and snapped a crisp salute. “Clear, sir. And, thank you, sir.” She slid her glass back to him across the desk. “May I have another?”

  Jesus, the stones on this one. Phillips smirked and took back the glass. “Hell, no. What, do you think this stuff grows on trees?”

  Nineteen

  Escalation

  Phillips

  From his post at the door, Ed spoke. “That went as well as we could have hoped.”

  Phillips grunted and set his snifter down with a firm thunk. “Goddamnit, Ed, there’s no one here and we’re not in the service anymore. The least you can do is sit and have a drink with me.”

  He pulled out a clean glass and set to pouring Ed a measure. Gunny sat and took his drink. Even sitting, the man loomed over him. Phillips sighed and considered the bottle. He hadn’t finished the last finger he’d poured, so he corked it.

  Ed raised his glass in a salute. “Absent friends.”

  Phillips clinked glasses with him. “Absent friends.”

  They both downed their drinks in one swallow. Phillips savored the lingering burn in his throat. “So where are they now?”

  Ed pulled his tablet from inside his jacket and started tapping in commands. “You’re just gonna need to see for yourself.” He pointed to the wall behind the desk.

  Phillips turned around and the holo lit up with a life-sized view of the latest Eagle Eye footage.

  Ed began narrating. “So Stan says the intervals between transmission isn’t constant. He still doesn’t know what’s causing the interference, but he’s working on maybe sending a signal to Jonesy’s implant to boost his signal.”

  On the holo, Jonesy’s viewpoint moved through the alien ship, this time with the telltale rhythm of walking. “They’re roaming the ship, no longer restrained. This segment we got is only a few minutes long, so mostly we see them moving around.”

  “There’s not much left here, so I’m going to slow the last few seconds down for you.”

  The video went to quarter speed, stuttering through the alien ship. A brightly lit, open doorway stood before them. Jonesy went through the door and looked around the room.

  Phillips let out an involuntary whistle and his eyebrows shot up. The room was festooned with gear and weapons from all branches of earth’s military. “Stan’s analyzing this? Frame by frame?”

  Ed snorted. “You think?”

  Even without pausing the video, Phillips identified weapons from the US Marine Corps, uniforms from Australian Special Forces and Sino-Sov Commandos, and Union Wolf plasma rifles. Eyes wide, he turned to face Ed.

  Ed pointed him back to the screen. His mouth was set in a grim line. “You’re not gonna want to miss the end.”

  Phillips returned to Jonesy’s slow pan across the room. The final frame of video froze as Jonesy turned back to the door. Clearly outlined in the door, was Lt. Camila Alvarez, nearly naked, with mottled blue skin from head to toe. Phillips felt his mouth drop open at the frozen image before him.

  Phillips closed his mouth and tried to swallow past his suddenly dry throat. He coughed. “Tell me you didn’t--”

  “No, of course not. I locked out Flynn’s access the moment I saw this.”

  “Good. Good.” Phillips rubbed his jaw. “Jesus. Don’t ask the questions if you can’t handle the answers, eh?”

  Behind him he heard Ed uncork the bottle and pour them each another round.

  Phillips turned and picked up his glass. With his elbows on the desk, he pointed his glass at Ed. “Obviously this goes no further than you, me, and Stan. Get the data off the main lab server as well, we can’t risk Harding stumbling into this.”

  His bushy gray eyebrows drew together in a frown. They really needed Beaufort’s expertise here, but that absolutely had to get clearance. He didn’t know if Senator Jackson would approve of IWC having this info.

  Phillips stood and paced behind his desk, jabbing at the air as he ticked off points. “Tell Stan I need every Wolf who has any enhancements at all to be lo-jacked, ASAP. Have him start with Alpha and Victory teams. Call it maintenance, or...whatever, just get them in for it.”

  He stopped pacing and faced the holo, studying the image of Alvarez. “Jonesy’s still with her. That says a lot.”

  Ed grunted in agreement. “We’re going to have a hard time keeping Flynn from mounting a rescue mission.”

  Phillips gave a snort of disbelief. “Hell, why would we want to stop him? I’ve been waiting for him to come around and hijack the shit himself so I can conveniently be unavailable to notice.” At least, that had been his half-formed plan. Answer enough of Flynn’s questions to get him the answers he would need. He’d fully anticipated that Flynn would commandeer a pilot and a Raven to get to the last location ping from Jonesy.

  Gunny gave a grim smile. “I’m sure Kennedy will have no problem tackling that with Keenan as their first special assignment.”

  Phillips lifted a brow. “Ed, I don’t need you to fall on your sword for this. Flynn will get his head in the game soon enough.” He and Ed had been through so much together, growing the Dubs into the fighting force they were proud of. They’d made plenty of sacrifices along the way. Hell, Ed’s wife had left him long ago and he would bet good credits Ed hadn’t seen his daughter since the Ringhead invasion began.

  Gunny shook his head. “No, no. That boy isn’t thinking straight right now. I’m going to have to aim that arrow in the right direction.”

  Phillips scowled at his old friend. They were skirting a dangerous line, concealing intel from the higher ups. The future of the Dubs depended on
the two of them. He didn’t want to sacrifice Ed on the altar of bureaucracy for an unauthorized mission with misappropriated experimental technology.

  The whiskey left in their glasses jumped as a small tremor shook the room. Phillips looked out his window, checking for the telltale signs of an earthquake. Another quick shock pulsed through the room, making the drawers on his desk rattle.

  Phillips swiped across his tablet, throwing the base security maps up on the holo. His eyes squinted as he scanned quickly across the map, searching for the disturbance.. Two more shocks reverberated through the building in quick succession, nearly knocking him off his feet. “Hestia, get me CentCom. What the fuck is going on?”

  Ed had his tablet out, tapping in commands and speaking quietly into his own comms.

  “Colonel, CentCom. We’re getting some strange seismic activity, sir. It’s localized to the area around the base and the city.” Another pair of shocks rocked the building, bucking one of the snifters off the desk to shatter on the floor.

  “No shit! You don’t have more for me than that?” He threw his arms wide, zooming the holo map onto the northern gate where a large red circle pulsed just beyond the fence. The matching video feeds were all static.

  “Where are my drones? Get me eyes on station, now!”

  A nearly monotone, female voice broke in. “Drones launched thirty seconds ago, Colonel. ETA one minute.”

  Finally, someone with their head screwed on tight.

  Phillips switched over to a secure channel. “Landau. Sitrep.”

  “Multiple impacts in a rough perimeter around the base. Video feeds in the vicinity of the impacts are non-functional.”