Matchstick closed its eyes. Gus thought it had gone to sleep when it slowly sat up and propped itself on one elbow.
“The Destroyer of Worlds, it is out there. We must find men, find good mens fast to help. Fast, Gus, very fast.”
Las Vegas, Nevada
0430 Hours
Hendrix,” a sleepy voice said on the other end of the phone.
“Johnson here.”
“Yes,” the voice said, annoyed.
“We have a problem.”
“I’m listening.”
“I have a verbal report from our Secret Service asset. The president has informed the Security Council that the saucer has been found. The Event Group has found the crash site of our visitors and is already on the ground. And it seems Director Compton is asking for military assets to help secure and control the area. I called our Black Team to make sure our former French friend was no longer in the equation, and there was no answer, They haven’t been on the air all night, so I must assume they took his elimination lightly and paid for it. Therefore we must assume he is moving on the saucer.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment and then a light chuckle. “What does that stupid bastard think he could do with whatever he comes across out there, sell it? Add it to his private collection? I’m afraid if what’s out there is actually there, he won’t want to take it home with him. If we can’t get a team in there, I rather doubt he can.”
“I hope you are not underestimating him, he’s rather resourceful.”
“No, my friend, let’s just hope he has underestimated the corporation. In doing that he has underestimated America herself, and that has been the mistake of many an enemy.” The line went dead.
Nellis AFB, Nevada
July 9, 0520 Hours
The senator was at his desk. Compton, who was somewhat rested with a two-hour nap, sat with Dr. Pollock and Alice, who were behind him watching the hastily installed video feed from the crash site.
“The debris field is consistent with what the army ran into in ’47, Dr. Compton,” Collins said. His features were dirty in the yellow glow from floodlights. “So far we have no sign of any survivors.” Jack turned and looked around him, then back at the stationary video camera. “We have two bodies, badly mangled. The third, if there was a third, is missing.”
The senator looked at Alice and bit his lip in worry. Then he spoke into the small microphone that sat atop his desk. “Jack, have you found the enclosure?”
The major removed the Kevlar helmet, looked around him, then looked into the camera. “Yes, sir, it was badly damaged and empty, no biologic material at all, and we found the canisters damaged a few feet away,” Jack answered quietly.
“Your first impressions, Major?” Niles asked.
Collins shook his head. “Niles, I need the damn sun to get up above these mountains and two hundred more men out here before I’ll venture even a guess. Besides the hole Everett fell into, there’s nothing but twisted metal,” Collins answered, letting his frustration show.
That was the end of their quick and easy solution.
“Hole? What hole, Jack?” Virginia asked, leaning into the microphone.
“A damn strange one because it’s not an old mine shaft of any kind, it’s too perfect.”
“And why do you think it’s strange?” Lee asked.
“Because I normally don’t get a sense of danger when I look into a hole, Senator, but when I look into this one, it seems like I’m looking into the mouth of hell, and I’ve learned to trust my gut when it comes to things like this.”
“Thanks, Jack. If you think the area is secure enough, we’ll get you some more people down there. I believe we must assume our worst-case scenario has occurred.” Niles paused and looked at the others in the room, then said, “I hope we’re not too late. Jack, you know how important finding the crewman is now?”
Collins just nodded into the camera.
“Good. As soon as some more security comes on the line there, your orders are to get forty winks. I need you fresh. Virginia will be there in an hour or two to take charge of field operations on the investigatory end, the cover story the CIA has worked out with the cooperation of the Centers for Disease Control is an outbreak of brucellosis, that’s thanks to the cattle in the region. It’s highly contagious and can spread to humans in the form of undulant fever, which means the army would have to destroy cattle by the hundreds if not thousands. That’ll cover the weapons they’re carrying. But for now, wait for Virginia, she’ll get things going there,” Niles finished.
“Glad to turn it over to her, sir. We’ll see you soon,” Collins said as the picture went to a blue field.
“God help us, it’s out,” Lee said.
“Now, we don’t know that for sure, Garrison,” Alice said.
Lee ignored her statement and turned to Compton. “You’ll need some engineers out there and possibly a tunnel team. We may need to broaden the security aspects of this and bring in the element of airborne that the president offered to secure the town. Let the air force know we may need them.” Lee thought a moment. “I’ll ask the Chiefs in Washington for their advice and mollify them a little so maybe we can get the use of Rangers, and possibly some of those Delta boys we’ve been hearing so much about,” he said, referring to the Special Operations men known as Delta Force, the unit that never officially existed, just like the Event Group.
“Yes, sir, we may just need to do that,” Niles said.
A knock sounded at the door and Virginia answered it and took a note from one of the Group’s communications people. She walked over to Niles and gave it to him. He read it quickly and lowered his head.
“What is it?” Lee asked.
“According to the Arizona State Police, they have a couple of missing troopers, and there was also a report of a mass killing of cattle not far from the crash sight.”
“What’s a mass?” Alice asked.
Virginia looked at Niles. He was now sitting with his head lowered and his eyes closed in thought. Then she looked at Alice and the senator and said, “Three hundred head were slaughtered from eight different ranches, all within the crash perimeter.”
“Slaughtered?” Lee asked.
“Yes, slaughtered and eaten,” Virginia said.
“My God, this must be more than one animal,” Compton said.
Lee didn’t answer as he moved to pick up the red phone he had left out on the desktop, fearing it would have to be used. He put the handset to his ear and waited a moment through the clicks and beeps. The voice on the other end was sleepy, but had a tone only a man who was used to these calls at any time in the morning.
“Sorry to disturb your morning, Mr. President,” Lee said quietly into the phone.
Niles had informed the commander in chief earlier of finding the saucer. He didn’t mention the president’s possible relationship with the Centauras Corporation, but he had alerted him to all the possibilities that could occur at the site, and the president was aware of what might happen, being fully briefed on the events of 1947. But the man held his breath while waiting for the statement he knew he would not want to hear.
“You don’t sound happy, my old friend.”
“Mr. President, we at Group believe we have been attacked. It’s official, casualties have already been sustained on civilians of this country,” Lee said somberly. “We are at war with sources unknown at this time.”
The others in the room looked at him, and those looks were serious. No man had spoken any words like these since that day in September 2001, when madmen hit the World Trade Center, and the only other time before that was in 1941 when Roosevelt had been informed of the attack on Pearl Harbor.
“Yes, the site is secure,” Lee said in answer to the president’s question. “No, sir, there’s nothing to be done but wait and see what we can find. We will send people into the nearest towns and secure them as best we can without causing panic; we have a Case One scenario as a cover.” He waited again
for the president to respond. “No, sir, I believe we can consolidate and coordinate better at this time with just my people. But it may be prudent to have the elements of the 101st, the Third Rangers, and Delta if we can get them, standing by at”—he paused and looked at the map sprawled on his desk—“Chato’s Crawl, Arizona. It’s not that big and we believe if nothing’s found, a cover story would be easier if we didn’t have that many people to convince.” Lee paused. “The base commander here at Nellis is cooperating nicely, thank you, sir. Yes, a special air force operations team will be on the ground to make sure the C-130s will have a clear landing zone.
“I believe also that Special Air Operations out of MacDill in Florida should be brought in. They are cleared for Event Operations.” Lee paused. “Yes, sir, it very well may be that bad. And thank the Security Council for alerting the Eighty-second Airborne Division to be in the air in readiness for deployment to either Phoenix or El Paso, and for telling them it’s only an alert exercise,” he said, looking at the shocked faces around him. “Yes, sir, thank you, I do think it prudent as we aren’t sure of this thing’s capabilities.” After hearing a few more words, Lee slowly hung up the red phone.
He took a deep breath and nodded at Niles.
Niles turned to Alice. “Notify the Group teams that are getting ready to leave what they face. Tell the major to let his team in on what we’re up against. And then tell them that Operation Orion is officially your backup plan. Special Operations out of MacDill Air Force Base will be bringing in special packages for use if needed.”
“Special packages?” Virginia asked.
“Tactical neutron weapons,” Alice answered.
“It won’t come to that because we will find that damn animal!” Lee said, grimacing and then tightly squeezing his eyes shut.
Niles, Alice, and Virginia reacted with dreamlike slowness when Garrison Lee leaned forward against the edge of the desk and then slowly fell to the floor clutching at his chest.
PART FIVE
EVENT FILE #457821:
EXTINCTION
War is all hell.
— GENERAL WILLIAM T. SHERMAN, U.S. ARMY
TWENTY-FIVE
In most cases the higher echelon of the U.S. government moves slowly, like a glacier that covers ground in increments of inches measured by years and multiplied by aeons. The country found out early on that knee-jerk reactions to situations brought innumerable consequences in losses of personnel and material. But when faced with a moment in time that had been anticipated for years and planned for by a man of former senator Garrison Lee’s genius, he had no fewer than fourteen five-inch-thick files on different military responses to the Event in the desert. They covered everything from urban warfare with the animal to the scenario they now faced, but he had never planned anything for subterranean scenarios.
But now the senator was rumored to be dying. The story of his collapse had spread like wildfire throughout the Event facility and even as far as the National Security Council, giving ammunition to those who wanted the Event removed from the Group’s hands.
Sarah McIntire stood in the Group’s small chapel on that Sunday morning, watching as Father Carmichael went through the mechanics of his delivery. A standing-room-only crowd lined the areas along the walls. As Sarah listened, the sermon droned on. But her mind was somewhere other than the chapel that morning; she was wondering if the Discovery team in Arizona had yet been told of the senator’s collapse. She hoped the news had been passed on to her roommate and other members of the advance team.
As the congregation was rising for a hymn specially selected for the senator, she was suddenly pulled away from the wall. She turned and saw a member of the geology team she had trained with for the past year, Steve Hanson.
“Come on,” he said loudly just as her beeper went off.
Sarah closed the hymnal and handed the book over to a neighbor and followed the man out of the chapel. She raised the beeper and saw the word ALERT in small, neat letters across the top.
“What is it?” she asked, pulling her arm free of the excited man.
“Our team has been placed on full field alert status!” Hanson said excitedly as he hurried to the chapel doors.
Before they could open them, the sound of over a hundred other beepers started blaring around them, and others started to stand and leave.
The Event Group was going to war.
Superstition Mountains, Arizona
0740 Hours
The site on the rock-strewn mountainside was astounding. It had been transformed from a crash site into a small city of tents and trailers in less than two hours. All had been airlifted in by Pave Low helicopters, the largest that could be supplied by the Twenty-third Special Operations Group out of Nellis and the Seventeenth SOG out of March Air Force Base in California. The ground was littered with people as well as debris. A thousand little red and yellow flags had already been placed to mark pieces of wreckage from the vehicle.
A three-way COMM and video link was hooked up between Nellis, Washington, and the crash site, so Compton could see not only Collins, but also the president and his national security staff in Washington. Jack could also view them on two monitors that Lisa had installed moments before the link was brought online. Jack had already given a preliminary report to Niles moments before the others joined in.
“So what have you got so far, Major Collins?” Compton asked for the benefit of Washington.
“What we have here is a high-speed impact on solid terrain of a vehicle of other than Earth origin. The wreckage was spread out in a V pattern, indicating a high-velocity crash,” Jack said as he looked into both monitors, which showed Niles at Group Center and the president in Washington. He knew the president had flown back to the White House in the middle of the night and was most likely in no mood for lengthy reports. He guessed right.
“Any survivors of the crash, Major?” the president asked pointedly.
“Our forensic team, led by the Group’s Dr. Gilliam, have recovered two bodies of what she calls ‘extraterrestrial beings,’” Jack answered, removing the Kevlar helmet and wiping his brow with a clean handkerchief.
“Okay, Major,” General Wayne Crawford, Commandant of the Marine Corps said, the camera sliding over to his chair in the White House Situation Room far beneath the surface of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, “we received your request on Delta and Ranger reinforcement and have approved, they are in the air. Now, what of this animal, any remains found as of yet?”
Collins explained about their not finding any remains in any of the cages and the finding of the acid canisters.
“From this information from our ground team, coupled with the fact we now have two missing state troopers and a mass of cattle slaughtered, and with the holes we have discovered, we must conclude we have at least one burrowing-type aggressor species roaming the desert, sir.”
“Damn,” the president said. “Can you track this animal by using the tunnels it has dug?”
“Yes, sir, we are bringing tunnel and geology teams in and are going to reassess when they arrive. We are currently stripping all our department resources at the Group. Our security teams will be stretched the most, so the extra assault element of Rangers and Delta will be dispersed among them.”
“The Joint Chiefs would like to send more, but they haven’t any. They’re recalling several strike units from Afghanistan.”
Collins glanced over at his minimal security staff. Only fifty-two men sat at the tables inside the mess tent, not counting the twenty Event Group geologists and tunnel people getting ready to leave Nellis. He had dispatched Ryan and Mendenhall to the small town below to assist the air force in their drops.
“Thank the Chiefs for me, sir. We’ll definitely need them as we don’t exactly know what we’ll run into down there, and I also suspect we’ll find other points where the animal has entered and exited the earth, like out at”—he looked at his notes—“this Tahchako ranch that was hit last night and a few others that were also s
truck. We may have to break our geology and tunnel specialists into groups and divide a serious amount of security around them.”
“What about secrecy matters at this point, Major?”
“Well, it shouldn’t pose a problem due to the fact that they’ll be led by actual military line officers from the Event Group. No need in telling them anything more about our little complex under Nellis. Also I have requested air cover for the valley until my teams can get into action, just in case the animal comes shallow before we’re ready. Also, after they come in contact with the animal, Niles and the senator suggested not disclosing the animal’s origin to the troops outside of the Group. We’ll just say it is an engineered species.”
The president turned and conferred with General Maxwell Hardesty, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. “Can you take care of the air request, General?”
The air force general grimaced. “Yes, sir, air won’t be a problem. The town will be secured by a company from the 101st Airborne. They will also control access to the town; we are now in the process of shutting the door with the cover story. As the major stated, the 101st need not know about the nature of the agency leading them, and they have already signed secrecy and disclosure papers. Also I already have a fighter element in the air that will be on station over the valley momentarily.”
“Very good, it’s a start,” said the president.
“What was the other item at the crash site, Major?” someone out of view of the camera’s lens asked.
“Who is it I am addressing, sir?”
“This is Director Godlier of Central Intelligence.”
“Well, Mr. Director, we have footprints. They were obviously made by a man likely arriving sometime after the crash as the prints are recent. We believe he may have possibly helped the surviving crewman, if there was one, escape the area.”
Event: A Novel Page 30