by Terence West
"By who?" Jake was curious.
"It's not important right now."
"What is important right now?"
"Only this. We need to meet. I have information very valuable to your case."
"Okay. Where and when?"
"I'll find you when I'm ready to talk." The phone went dead.
Jake leaned back in his chair and placed his feet up on the table. Turning his head, he looked out the window. He watched the millions of lights in Vegas flicker on and off. "I am definitely in the right city. This just keeps on getting stranger and stranger."
* * * *
The group of men had moved into the conference area adjoining the control room. It was a long rectangular room with shimmering steel walls and no windows. The one door at the rear of it sat directly behind the chair occupied by General Perry. He sat at the end of a long wooden conference table flanked on his right side by his advisors, and on the left by the staff of Area 51. "What do we have gentlemen?"
General Davis stood up and adjusted his uniform. "We have apparently tracked and are ready to recover a 'fallen angel'."
The advisors began to whisper among themselves. General Perry looked straight at Colonel Hunter. "Colonel?"
Hunter quickly stood up next to Davis. "Yes, Sir."
"What is your make on the situation?"
Glancing over to Davis, Hunter began. "We did track something on radar last night. It had violated our air space, so we sent a patrol craft out to meet it and turn it around. Upon intercepting the intruder, Red Bird was immediately destroyed. We theorize that Red Bird fired her missiles on the craft hitting it, but the intruder returned fire and destroyed Red Bird."
Davis continued. "Colonel Hunter lead a recon team out to the wreckage of Red Bird and discovered an immense crater near it. This was probably due to the intruder hitting the ground and somehow bouncing off."
"It bounced?" The Navy's advisors stood up and addressed General Davis. "How could a craft struck my a missile and falling to Earth at terminal velocity 'bounce' off the ground?"
Davis turned to face the advisor. "As you well know, Sir, the air craft we are studying here are not all that normal. You saw several extraterrestrial vehicles in the hangar. We have tested several different types of projectiles on them, usually causing minimal damage to the exterior of the vehicle. These things can stand up to whatever we throw at them and still be smiling afterwards." The advisor slowly sat down.
General Perry stared at Davis. "General Davis, I have called this debriefing to allow the advisors a chance to ask questions about your methods and procedures, not for you to criticize them." His tone was stern.
Davis sat down. "I am terribly sorry, Sir." Swiveling his chair toward the advisors he leaned forward on the table. "As you all well know, rational thinking does not apply here at Area 51. We have to be willing to examine the extraordinary and accept it." The advisors began to nod in agreement.
Perry folded his hands and placed them on the table. "What are your plans to recover the craft, General Davis?"
"We will send out another recon team led by Colonel Hunter to determine the condition of the craft. After we know that, a full salvage team will be sent out."
"What about the Moscow Convention's stipulation about recovered extraterrestrial technology? It states that all technology and biological entities must be destroyed upon discovery or capture." The President's Advisor adjusted his glasses.
Hunter stepped in. "That law was put in to effect after the world leaders deemed that the UFO phenomenon was a threat. I don't think that it applies over forty years later."
"Why not? The law is still on the books."
Hunter had always enjoyed a good debate. "Yes, but now every major nation of the world has their own facility for retrieval and study of extraterrestrial technology."
The President's advisor leaned back in his chair removing his glasses. "I was not aware of that. I was still to understand that this facility was one of its kind."
"Unfortunately, no. Up until a few years ago the Russians had the most advanced facility in the world until they went bankrupt over there. Now the most complete base in the world is located in southern France. It's maintained jointly by the French and English governments."
"Do we work with these other facilities?"
"No. Most governments like ours still deny the existence of this kind of base, even though we all know that these places exist."
General Perry cut in. "Back to the task at hand, gentlemen. When does the salvage operation begin?"
Davis thought for a moment. "We'll need time to brief out salvage team and get a recon team out there," he estimated the time in his head. "The quickest would be tomorrow evening. We would have to reallocate personnel to the teams, possibly call staff back from leave."
Perry stood up from the table and glanced around. "Let's make this happen. I want a full report in my hands by this time tomorrow so I can advise the president of the situation. Now if that's all, excuse me gentlemen." The military personnel in the room stood and saluted as Perry exited the room followed by the advisors.
Davis sat down at the table along with Hunter and Griggs. Griggs looked over at Davis. "General, permission to speak frankly?"
Davis rolled it over for a moment. "Granted Major. What is it?"
"Sir, I think having General Perry and his Advisors calling the shots could be very dangerous."
"How is that Major?"
"Sir, they don't know procedures here. They could put one of us or one of my men in a potentially deadly situation."
Hunter jumped in. "I'm going to have to agree with Major Griggs, Sir. It's obvious from the conversation we just had that they don't what they're doing."
Davis stood up and paced around the table. "That much is obvious, Colonel." Seating himself at the end of the table he stared at the two men. "And there is nothing we can do." Waiving his hand he dismissed the two men. Sitting alone at the conference table his mind began to swim with possibilities. If General Perry and his advisors were really as ignorant to Area 51 as they seemed, Davis knew his plans would succeed.
Chapter 7
Jonathan Anderson was riddled with guilt. Sitting in the office in his home, he held his arms crossed and his head down on his desk. He felt a huge knot in his stomach begin to well up and his head was pounding. Finding a moment of clarity, he opened the top drawer in his desk and removed an item wrapped in crumpled yellow notebook paper. Laying it on his desk, he began to unfold the sheets of paper, exposing a vial of clear green liquid. Lifting it up in his hand he studied the fluid. "This will be the end." Placing it in his pocket he stood up and walked out of his office.
Stopping near the front door he grabbed his trench coat off the rack and began to pull it on. He was reaching for the door handle when Susan came around the corner. "Jonathan? What are you doing?"
He finished putting on his coat. "I'm going out for a little while."
She looked concerned. He hadn't told her what was bothering him, but she knew something was wrong. "Where are you going?" She walked up to him and put her hand on his left shoulder.
He looked away. "There is something very important that I need to do."
"Why?"
He reached down and opened the front door. "It's for Christina," he turned to stare right at her. "And for my own salvation." He stepped outside and closed the door.
* * * *
Two lone figures stepped off the plane. It was an all white 737 jet with a thick red stripe extending from the tip to the tail. Walking down the stairs to the tarmac, they began to make their way to the hangar in the pale moonlight. Looking up into the starry sky the two figures watched as several helicopters cruised overhead. The large hangar had old white wooden walls with panes of dirty glass looking out on to the empty airfield.
Stepping up to a small wooden door, the two figures each took turns placing their right hands on a small touch screen adorning the wall next to it. They listened as the lock on the door clicked
open. Grabbing the handle, the two made their way into a small room. It was heaped with trash and scrap wood. The walls were bare wood except for a few spots where the dry walling still clung to them. Moving to the rear, one of the figures lifted a large plank of wood away from the wall revealing a small door and another touch screen. After placing their hands on the screen, the door slid open to an elevator. Stepping inside, one of the figures removed a key from his pocket and slid it into the lock on the elevator's panel. Giving it a click to the right, all the lights flickered to life. Pressing one of the buttons the elevator whirred to life. The two figures felt the lift begin to fall.
The door opened to a sterile white hospital like environment. The two figures stepped off into the hallway. Anne turned to address her companion. "Did General Davis say why he wanted us back at the base?"
The man in the black suit with the scar on his face shook his head. "No, but to call both of us back in the middle of our assignments would indicate that this could be a very serious situation."
Anne laughed.
The man in the black suit looked confused. "What?"
"You've been doing this for too long. A simple yes or no would've done."
The man smiled. "I have indeed.
Patting the man on the shoulder, they began to walk down the hall. Reaching the end, they came to a door marked 'General T. Davis' in tall black lettering. Anne stepped forward and knocked on the door. From behind the door they heard a voice telling them to enter. Grabbing the handle, Anne carefully opened the door and walked in.
A somber Davis greeted them. Looking up from his seat at his desk he commanded them to sit down. Anne and the man both took seats opposite Davis'. Anne looked around his office. She had only been here once before, when she was promoted to her current position. The walls were a dull white and adorned with plaques and trophies in various shapes and sizes. Photographs of him and important people he had met littered his desk and shelves. Anne had always liked the one of Davis and Nixon taken in the oval office.
"Let's get down to business." Davis' emotionless face stared at the two. "We are currently under evaluation from the White House and the Pentagon. General Perry has personally come to oversee this operation. It seems that the powers that be aren't exactly satisfied with our performance here, especially mine."
The man leaned forward. "What does this mean to us, Sir?"
"If the evaluation goes well, nothing. But if something goes wrong, we could all be replaced." Davis sat down the pen he was holding in his hand. "I've briefed all the major staff members of the situation, and you two are the last to know."
Anne looked mystified. "Sir, why is Washington unhappy with us?"
"Apparently, we aren't moving the program along fast enough. As you both know, ever since the Air Force gained control of the facility from the Army we have been operating under a microscope. This could very well be the end of Area 51."
All three leaned back in their chairs trying to process the information at hand. The man straightened up. "So I am to assume, Sir, that it is business as usual until we are notified otherwise?"
Davis nodded. "We have a rather strange event unfolding here at the base, so I am going to need you two to continue your work in the field and get this 'Anderson Incident' taken care of." Standing up from his desk, he walked around to his door and opened it. "Dismissed."
* * * *
Jake sorted through the several files he had accumulated that day. He was sitting at the small circular table in the corner of his room. Shuffling the files together, he placed them all neatly in a yellow folder and sat them aside. He rubbed his hands in his eyes. It had been a long day on the case. Staring across the room, he glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand. It was almost two in the morning. He stood up from the table and flipped off his boots while pulling of his t-shirt. Walking into the small bathroom, he stared at himself in the mirror. He twisted on the faucets and held his hands under the water waiting for it to warm up. Cupping his hands, he lifted the warm water to his face. He leaned over and rested his hands on the counter staring at the man in the mirror. Straightening up, he began to unbutton his jeans when he heard a knock at the door. What now,he asked himself.
Walking towards the door, he grabbed his shirt and began to pull it on. Stepping up to the door he peeked through the peephole. Quickly grabbing the door handle he opened the door. "Jonathan," Jake was surprised to see him here this late at night. Jonathan Anderson stood in the doorway, soaking wet. "Please come in."
Jonathan walked in past Jake and began to strip off his jacket. Sitting it on the edge of the bed, he moved around to the small table Jake had just been seated at. "I need to speak with you."
Jake closed the door and turned around. "Sure, go ahead."
"Earlier this evening you received an anonymous phone call claiming to know the real facts behind the case your working on."
"Yes. How did you know?"
Jonathan shifted in his seat. "Because I made that call."
Jake's eyes widened. "You? Why"
"Because I am tired Mr. Silver. Tired of lying to my family."
"I don't understand. What are you talking about?"
Jonathan pulled out the vial of green liquid and placed it on the table. "I'm sure that you know by now that I am a government employee."
"Yeah, I know. I just don't know what kind of employee."
"I am a Genetic Researcher. I have been called one of the top minds in the field. I have had a long and distinguished career in the science community." Jake felt Jonathan was reminding himself not telling him. Jonathan began to mumble to himself.
"Jonathan? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm okay." He looked away from Jake. "I just don't feel well, that's all."
"Can I get you a drink?"
Jonathan shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm fine."
Jake began to reach across the table to grab the vial of green liquid. "What's this?"
It was almost in his hand when Jonathan's hand shot out and grabbed it. "No!"
Pulling his hand back quickly, Jake felt like a child playing with his father's prize possession. "I'm sorry. I was just curious."
"We'll get to that. But let's start at the beginning." Jake nodded for him to begin. Jonathan raised his glance to Jake's. "I'm damned."
"I'm afraid you're going to have to be more specific." Jake smiled trying to lighten the mood.
Jonathan stared right through him. "I have been involved with illegal experiments on the citizens of the United States. We take people right out of their homes against their will and then conduct medical experiments on them."
"I'm afraid I'm not following."
"I am an employee of Area 51."
Jake stood up and began to rub his hands through his hair. "I really don't want to go down this road again tonight."
"Look, Mr. Silver, I am not crazy. The woman you met with tonight was lying to you. She is what's known as a 'plant'. She is enlisted by the powers at Area 51 to spread disinformation and to pull people off the right track—"
"What track? I'm here to investigate what happened to your daughter, not some secret base in the middle of the Nevada desert!"
"That is the right track, Jake. You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into here. Please, sit down." Jake moved back to the table and sat down across from Jonathan. "I am a scientist. I hold doctorates in genetic engineering and chemistry. Before I moved my family here, I worked for a small research facility in Colorado. We did mostly smaller projects on bacteria and germs, testing them for immunities to several different strands of diseases and flu strains. I had worked there for several years, until I received an interesting job opportunity to do some real research here at Area 51. It was an offer that no self-respecting scientist could turn down."
"Why?"
"Basically because we could do the work we wanted without the watchful eye of the government. We didn't have to report out findings to the FDA, or wait years until we could do actual human trials." He
stopped. Reaching his hands up to his temples, he began to slowly massage them. "I'm sorry, I have a terrible headache."
"Can I get you some aspirin?"
"No. I'm fine. Thank you, though." He stopped rubbing. "I was recommended for the position by Dr. Jim Yokama. He was a prominent researcher until he faded out of view several years ago. It wasn't until I worked with him at the facility that I knew that it was when he was recruited to Area 51. He was considered by many in his field to be one of the world's top minds. I feel as though I was recruited under false pretense."
Jake struggled to take the information in. This story seemed very similar to the one Anne had told him only a few hours ago. Standing up, he began to move toward the mini-bar. "I need something to drink. Please continue." He opened the door and removed a can of soda. Popping open the top, he took a long sip from it.
"As I was saying, I was recruited under a false pretense."
Jake had returned to his seat. "In what way?"
"I had been told that we would be doing good work there, but in all actuality we were doing horrible things to people."
"What kinds of 'horrible' things?"
"I was recruited for my expertise in Genetic Engineering. You know," he motioned with his hands, "identifying, splicing, and studying DNA. I was part of a team that abducted subjects from their homes then experimented on them."
"How did you 'abduct' them?"
"We used a top secret government aircraft known as the 'Aurora'. As I understand it, this craft was back-engineered from alien technology. It has a very ominous look, but is very hard to describe. Basically, it's just a big black triangle that flies. I'm not up on the logistics of the craft, I just know it takes us where we want to go all over the world in a manner of minutes."
"So your in the craft, what next?"
"The subjects we go after are subjected to a long screening process. Once they are picked to be in the project, a crack team of commandos dispatched from Area 51 scrutinizes their lives. Most of these people never even know they're being watched. If the subject passes the surveillance, we abduct them. We do this by first flooding their room or house or car with a highly hallucinogenic gas. This gas serves two purposes. First, it makes the subject very susceptible to suggestion, and secondly, it makes them very manageable except in certain extreme cases. Once the subjects are sufficiently gassed, soldiers dressed as aliens come in and take them."