Wings of Steele: Revenge and Retribution

by Jeffrey Burger

  “I hope you understand Dr. Fabry, this is not personal, this is national security...”

  The words didn't chill her as much as the perceived intent. “No I don't. It seems to me that we're all on the same side here. We're looking for the scientific truth...”

  “Well yes and no,” he countered. “Our truth is a tad different from your truth. My job is to keep your truth from scaring the hell out of the American public.”

  “I don't think the American public is as fearful as you think.”

  The man in the suit stopped pacing, folded his arms and stared her down. “Alright then, let's look at this from another angle; your contact never happened. Period. It's our gig now, capiche?”

  “And just who are you?” Michelle asked angrily.

  “Nobody. We were never here, we don't exist. And I would suggest to you, today never happened...”

  There was screaming in the control room below and it launched Michelle to her feet, the man in the black suit swinging the office door wide as he lunged for the railing. When Michelle got to the rail she was terrified of what she was about to see, her hands shaking.

  “Mitch, Mitch..! They've erased everything!” She stared down at David who was beside himself with grief, pacing around the man in the black tactical gear sitting at the console working at the keyboard. The rest of her team sat quietly to one side, frightened and sullen.

  “Let it go, David,” she called down, turning on her heel and walking back into her office. She gritted her teeth. “So what now?”

  “As soon as we're done, we're out. You and your crew are free to go.”

  “Just like that,” she quipped sarcastically.

  “Just like that. It will be up to you to keep your people on the program; today never happened. Because you really don't want us to come back...” He leaned on the desk with both hands, his eyes cast down. “I don't like it when I have to come back.” He looked up into her eyes with a steely glare, “You won't like it if I have to come back.”

  A chill ran up the back of her neck and she had to fight off the instinct to back away, “What about our calls to NASA and SETI?” she breathed cautiously.

  The man in the suit didn't even blink, “That's not your concern. And you will never mention it again...”

  ■ ■ ■

  In jeans and tennis shoes, attire that was seriously more casual than her norm, Dr. Michelle Fabry was back the next morning along with most of her team. They sat around quietly drinking their coffee.

  Samantha looked around, “Where's Katie?”

  Michelle pursed her lips, “I don't think she's coming back to work, Sam. Ever.”

  “Can't say I blame her,” mumbled David. “I can't believe those assholes erased everything. Even the coordinates for Harding-Konos 452...”

  “Over a week's worth of mapping,” interrupted Samantha.

  “Uh, guys...” Sean was holding a Styrofoam cup of cold, day-old coffee in one hand, and a small chain between the fingers of his other hand. A waterproof thumb drive dangled from the chain, dripping stale coffee.

  Michelle's eyes widened, “Is that what I think it is?” she whispered.

  He nodded silently, motioning to where he left the cup in plain sight on the console overnight. “Should I...” he motioned to the computer, indicating a restoration of data.

  “No, no,” waved Dennis. “Not until we sweep all the software...”

  “And everything else,” added Michelle.

  ■ ■ ■

  Just north of Alamo, Nevada, along State Road 93, was the only motel in probably a fifty mile radius with real walls, indoor plumbing and electricity. The small aging cottages, while a tad musty, were surprisingly clean. Thankfully. Chase and Karen occupied one cottage, Dan and Rain occupied another and Jesse stayed in the motor home parked between the buildings with the pickup trucks and motorcycles.

  The sun had set, the cloudless sky a deep purple, the moon and stars were already visible over the desert.

  A small flashlight in his mouth, Dan methodically checked the tie-downs holding the three dirt bikes in the bed of Jesse's pickup truck, re-wrapping the tarp tightly around them with Chase's help.

  The task completed, Chase leaned back against the side of the pickup and stared up at the stars. “So what's Jesse's deal?” he whispered. “Who is he?”

  His elbow on the side of the truck bed, foot on the rear bumper, Dan looked up at the same sky and stars, wondering if they were both seeing the same thing. The more time he spent out in the desert, the more fascinated with the stars he became. It had almost become an obsession. He wondered if Steele was really out there somewhere. “He's an Indian kid... A friend of the one that was killed – the one in Rain's wrongful death lawsuit. She met him when she was doing depositions for the case...”

  “Was he there the day that kid was killed?”

  “No, and she didn't see him again until she went to hide on the reservation when the black SUVs were stalking her. He's a loner but a decent kid. No family, he bounced around in the tribe, seemed to be well liked. Everybody took care of him. The tribal council gave him a little cabin and he did odd jobs. When he hid her out he never asked her for anything in return... I suspect there's a little crush going there, although he's never acted on it.”

  “So he feels tied to her...” nodded Chase.

  “Yeah... which is good I guess. He's the best trail guide we could've ever hoped for. He knows this desert like the back of his hand.” He thumbed toward the tarp, “Bought him a new dirt bike - you should've seen the pile of shit he was riding... held together with baling wire, tape, hopes and wishes...”

  Chase chuckled, “Sounds like my first car... An old T-Bird I inherited from my grandmother when she passed.”

  “What year?”

  “A sixty-six...”

  “The ones with the sequential taillights, a very stylish car.”

  “Complex though. It had a lot of little problems... nickel and dime stuff, drove me crazy.” They watched the stars in silence for a while, a white streak crossing the sky directly over them, heading west. “What the hell was that?!” asked Chase spinning around to watch it disappear.

  “Whatever it is, it's headed for Area 51...”

  “It didn't make a sound,” interrupted Chase, astounded. “We should have been able to hear something...!”

  Dan smirked, “Spooky, ain't it? Welcome to Area 51...”

  ■ ■ ■

  Dan, Chase and Jesse sat around the table in the motor home, a detailed fabric map spread across the table, laptops and a hand-held GPS unit sitting around them. “Right here,” pointed Jesse. “is where the GPS signal will cut out. From there on, you need to use the map and your eyes.” He pointed to another spot on the map, about halfway to the end of the GPS signal, “I'll ride with you to here, and drop the fuel. There will be enough to fill both your tanks and get you back even if you're almost empty. I don't expect you to use that much, but you never know... We'll also leave a couple gallons of water and some food.”

  “We'll mark the fuel stop on the GPS,” explained Dan. “Once we're clear of the dead zone we'll be able to pick it up on the way back with no problem.”

  “Why the dead zone?” asked Chase.

  “Jamming,” said Jesse. “No cell, radio, GPS, walkie-talkie...” He waved, “Doesn't affect their frequency of course.” He pointed to a place along Route 375, known as the Extraterrestrial Highway, “We'll pull off here and drive in about a mile or so and unload the bikes. From the refuel spot I'll head back to the truck. I will be back in twenty-four hours to see if you're back yet. After that I will come back every twelve hours. After four days... I, um, will have to assume you're dead or they picked you up...”

  “Terrific,” mumbled Chase.

  “We'll be fine,” assured Dan.

  “How far are we actually going?” asked Chase.

  Jesse tapped on the map, “Here. You'll get decent video and photos from this area...”

  Chase blinked
, comparing the map to the images from the online satellite map on the screen of the laptop. “You can't be serious... that's on the base.”

  “Not really, it's actually considered the gunnery range. You're up in the mountains. They won't be able to get to you in their four-by-fours...”

  “They don't need to, kid,” argued Chase. “They have helicopters...” He rubbed his face in frustration, “Helicopters with door gunners trump pretty much anything on the ground.”

  “That's why you're going it at night without lights.”

  Chases' eyes widened, “Out there? Are you nuts?”

  Dan patted him on the shoulder, “Don't worry, we have night vision.”

  Chase nodded, “Oh good, because that was the thing I was most worried about.” He shot Dan a sharp glance, “That was sarcasm in case you're wondering...” He stood up and walked to the front of the motor home and stared out through the windshield into the darkness, his hands in his pockets. “You know, they have night vision too... and thermal and a few other things to see in the dark...”

  Jesse folded up the fabric map, “Because the path you are taking is a more difficult way to go, it is much less patrolled and has fewer monitoring stations. They have seen dirt bike riders out there and usually watch without interfering. This route has been used before; it does offer us the best chance for success. Especially since no one has done it in the dark.”

  “That's not exactly reassuring,” remarked Chase. “So what are we supposed to be looking for here? More stuff like at Dugway?”

  “A little different. We've had reports of increased activity of UFO-like craft and since I've seen one up close they've put me on rotation here...”

  “So since you've seen a UFO you're an expert?” asked Chase sarcastically. “That's like saying since you've seen a car you're a mechanic...”

  “Look I get what you're saying,” interrupted Dan. “But I was in shooting distance. And apparently that's closer than anyone else has been. They want me to look.”

  “Mmm,” grunted Chase. “I can't say I'm not curious... or even intrigued. But dammit, this is espionage. At least at Dugway we were on public land...”

  “There is no intent here,” corrected Dan, “to...”

  “Pshh,” waved Chase, “you're entering a high security, military research base. They're not going to ask your intent. They're going to shoot your ass first and ask questions later. That's assuming we don't run across a mine first, if there are any. In which case you'll get a new nickname; stumpy, or shorty or something.”

  “You don't have to go... Jesse can go with me instead...”

  Chase sighed with exasperation, “No... I'll go. Somebody's gotta keep you from getting killed...”

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  UFW FRIGATE REVENGE : TERRAN SOLAR SYSTEM

  With Brian heading to the Conquest to fulfill his in-service training and keep his flight credentials current, Jack Steele did not hesitate to make the Captain's ready room his own, commanding the Task Force from there. It was much smaller than he'd become accustomed to on the Conquest, but it would suffice. Though in a direct comparison, the appointments were definitely more modern than in the one-hundred year old carrier.

  Sitting in the Captain's chair on the bridge, Lieutenant Maria Arroyo was acting commander of the Revenge during Brian's absence, and she was enjoying the proverbial view from the top.

  Jack reached over and keyed the comm button on the console mounted into the desk, “Lieutenant, might I see you in the ready room, please?”

  “Aye, sir.” As Maria swung herself out of the most coveted seat on the bridge, she waved Raulya from her spot in tactical to take the command chair.

  Lisa was switching between hijacked Earth television signals on the holo-screen in the ready room when Maria entered from the bridge, the door sliding into the wall with a hiss, closing automatically behind her. “What's up, Jack?”

  Steele didn't react to her casual demeanor as there were no other crew members present. “Have you been watching any of the news broadcasts from home?”

  “Yes...” Maria pointed at the sofa, “May I?”

  Jack waved casually, “Sure.”

  She sat down next to Fritz who was lounging comfortably, giving his head and ears a stroke. “I started watching when we first pulled them in Elyse Core. The signal was pretty sloppy and they were a few months old when we pulled them, but it was still interesting...”

  “Right,” he interrupted, “and when we gated into the system we jumped ahead to current broadcasts, so we've missed everything in-between. But considering that many of the topics are unresolved and continue, I'm not liking what I'm seeing. What the hell is going on?”

  She motioned toward the current broadcast on the screen, “You know about as much as I do...”

  “No,” said Jack shaking his head, “Your professional opinion. As a CIA agent. What do you think is going on?”

  Maria made a face like she'd tasted something offensive, “I think there's a meltdown coming. How big or how wide I can't tell. Even with what I've been able to find on the internet, I...”

  Jack did a double-take, “Internet? How did you get the internet?”

  “We hijacked a signal and tapped in on a satellite service. A little more complicated but similar to what we did with the broadcast stuff. There's a lot more news content than the media is carrying.”

  “Like what?” asked Lisa, cutting in.

  “Well, assuming twenty-five percent of it is conspiracy theory thinking and another twenty-five percent of it is intentional misinformation, the answer should be in the remaining content. The truth is; that the real truth is where the first and second twenty-five percent collide and overlap. The rest is white noise. Diversion.”

  Lisa's face scrunched in contemplation. “Sooo...”

  Maria shrugged, “So when the push-back on critical conspiracy theories is equal to or greater than; the effort, volume, frequency and duration of those theories, it validates the theories.”

  Jack leaned forward, his elbows on the desk, his hands clasped. “You're saying the conspiracy theorists are right?”

  “Yes, I'd say so. There has to be a lot of truth to what they're saying if the push back is this tough. The disturbing part is the media seems to be complicit in disseminating the disinformation...”

  “So what's the Net got that's not on the news?”

  “Widespread upheaval. Citizens rebelling against their governments. A meltdown in Greece, revolutions in Venezuela, Egypt, and the Ukraine. A civil war in Syria, anti-Christian terrorism in Somalia, Kenya and Nigeria... slaughter and kidnappings... North Korea testing nukes, Russia flexing its muscles and bullying the Ukraine and Iran is threatening nuclear annihilation of Israel and the U.S.” She shrugged noncommittally. “And, the Middle East is well, the Middle East; mayhem and misery as always...”

  “Jesus,” breathed Steele. “What about home?”

  Maria looked pensive, apprehensive... “I can't say that it's much better. There's a war going on in Mexico and the southern border is a mess. Whatever the administration is doing, it seems to have destroyed all respect in the global sense. The United States has lost footing as the World leader and it seems Americans are fed up in general. By all accounts there's been a considerable amount of civil protest nation-wide for a wide variety of things. I'd have to say the fuse is lit.”

  Jack stood up and began to pace, suddenly restless, his hands clasped behind his back, a hot flush washing over him.

  “We have to get mom and dad out,” cautioned Lisa.

  “I know, I know... I just can't believe we're coming back to such a damn mess... I don't like it. There are so many ways this could go bad...” He stopped pacing, “Maria, do you have anyone you need to see? Not that I want more of our people on the ground but there's no telling how long we'll be gone this time.”

  She shook her head, “Nope. I go down there, it would only be to murder a couple of people. I can do without the stress.”

>   Steele snorted a short-lived chuckle. “What about Brian?”

  “No idea, he hasn't mentioned anything. You'll have to ask him yourself.” She glanced over at Lisa then back at Jack, “With everything going on, are you still thinking of approaching the U.S. About UFW membership?”

  His heart and body felt suddenly heavy with dread. He stopped pacing and leaned against his desk, “It's part of our mission. I have to at least try.”

  The comm crackled, “Captain to the bridge. Captain to the bridge, please.”

  Steele stared at Maria who sat comfortably on the sofa, anticipating the conversation would continue. He pointed at the ceiling indicating the page, “I think that's for you...”

  She bounced to her feet, “Oh my God! I totally forgot...” she dashed out the door onto the bridge, barely clearing the door as it slid into the wall.

  The comm crackled again, “Admiral Steele to the bridge, please.”

  He glanced at Lisa, “Me too, huh? OK, let's go see what's going on...”

  ■ ■ ■

  Raulya turned in her seat, “Commander, we've been monitoring a radio signal from the surface of the planet. It was originally positioned in a scanning pattern past the Task Force but has been readjusted in our direction...”

  “Show me...” ordered Maria.

  Lieutenant Raulya provided red markers on a zoomed image of the planet on the main holo-screen from her control panel. “The signal originates from this area on the northern continent...” An outline appeared around the shape of North America.

  “Hmmm,” growled Maria, that's either Green Bank Observatory or the Sugar Grove Research Facility...”

  “There were originally two more, here and here...” added Raulya, red markers appearing on the image of the continent.

  “Alright,” pointed Maria. “That one on the bottom is NASA in Houston. I'm guessing the one in the west is SETI at Hat Creek.”

  “So there's only one signal now?” interjected Steele.