Alpha Class - Discovery

by N. D. Roberts

  Diane blushed. “Sorry, DJ. Ok, let’s do the roster—but not because you’re punishing me for a slip of the tongue. What’s on the agenda tonight?”

  Dorene flicked her tablet and the roster jumped to the holo-projector on the desk. “First is Jean and John reporting that they’re going to be tied up at the Conwy facility for a few more days.”

  Diane nodded. “I filed the paperwork earlier. How are the kids doing?”

  “They’re doing well. Craig still has both hands, believe it or not.”

  “I’ll bet he doesn’t make it to the end of the term without some sort of injury. Those Wechselbalg kids think they’re invincible from the moment the hormones hit them.”

  Dorene raised an eyebrow in interest. “I’ll take that bet. What are the stakes?”

  “How about steaks? Loser buys the other dinner for a month.”

  Dorene grinned. “Sounds good to me. I’ll enjoy all that free food.”

  Diane shook her head, her nose wrinkled. “Don’t count on it, DJ. I don’t think he’s learned his lesson yet. I had a talk with his father after the moon incident, and even he doesn’t think Craig’s going to make it through unscathed.”

  “Did you share our concerns about safety?”

  “I did, and the response was along the lines of ‘he’s just like I was at that age, he’ll grow out of it.’” Diane groaned. “I’m just wondering how many body parts he’s going to lose before that happens—or if they’ll all be his own.” She tsked her disapproval. “You know as well as I do that he’s as likely to endanger someone else as he is himself. You know what puberty does to boys—they’re all squeaky voices and impulse. We can’t have that happen. One wrong move up here, and BANG! We’re all floating in the vacuum of space with our eyes popping out of our skulls.”

  Dorene shook her head to remove the thoughts of Craig setting off a chain reaction that destroyed them all. “I think you’re worrying too much. He has John and Jean watching over him. Do you think they’d let him mess around?”

  Diane shrugged. Student welfare was her sister's realm. “If you say so. What about Cheryl Lynn's group? How are they doing?”

  Dorene looked down at her notes. “Jayden is a born organizer, Cheryl Lynn says. Yana is still timid, but getting more confident by the day. Cheryl Lynn says she will do well in a diplomatic position when she’s older, unless she chooses to pursue a humanitarian role.”

  Diane agreed. “Perhaps she’ll take over for us, when we retire. Again.”

  They cackled like a pair of witches over steaming mugs in place of bubbling cauldrons.

  “We’re not going to talk about that retirement nonsense again, are we, DJ?” Diane eventually said. “I mean, a vacation now and then would be nice, but I kind of like it here.” She looked out the open door into the dim lobby, where the glow of the galaxy on the ceiling was the only source of light.

  “We’re not even going to make it out of this office if we don’t get a move on,” Dorene said, putting her empty mug down and picking her tablet up again. “Where were we?”

  Diane was already there. “Cheryl Lynn's group, DJ. Just Ksenia to discuss. She recommends a diplomatic role for her as well. Do we have a track in place for that?”

  “We can put one in place. Build it up from the negotiations class with Ecaterina. Who would be the best person for that?”

  “I suspect Anna Elizabeth Hauser, but I may be wrong. I’ll ask Cheryl Lynn in the morning. The General—how are his future officers shaping up?”

  “You mean the Echo and Foxtrot snowflakes? Decidedly less snowflakey after a few weeks with him, I’m glad to say. Deciding to send them as a group to Lance was a good idea. Maybe next term their mentor won’t have so much trouble with them.”

  “All the mentors are reporting that they’re having success with their assigned students.” Diane high-fived her sister. “In fact, I would say our experiment is a resounding success!”

  “Shall we get out of here?” Dorene asked with a glint in her eye. “I feel some late-night shopping coming on.”

  Diane already had her bag in her hand and was halfway to the door. “You don’t have to ask me twice!”

  United Kingdom, North Wales, Snowdonia National Park, Caernarvon, Llyn Cwm Ffynnon

  Broadbent squinted as the reflection of the sun off the lake momentarily blinded him. His radio spat out Perkins’ garbled voice, interspaced with hissed bursts of static.

  “Sir? I can’t hear you, sir.”

  “Speak up, Perkins, the signal is terrible here.” Broadbent hit the receiver against his leg a couple of times and tried again. This time he could hear Perkins loud and clear.

  “It’s the mountains, sir. I have a location for John Grimes. HQ says you’re to get eyes on him, and report his activities back to them ASAP.”

  “He’s got five kids with him. It’s not like he’s going to be plotting to overthrow the government. Can’t they just send the satellite over? They’re most likely out here for camping, or some other banal outdoorsy activity.”

  “It won’t be in position for another three hours, sir. Besides, every time we try to get a lock on them the satellite goes on the fritz. It’s bloody eerie.”

  Broadbent sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand.

  Damn this assignment! If it wasn’t super-powered TQB employees making his day unbearable, it was HQ with yet another set of orders that violated his personal code. That in itself wouldn’t be too much, but dealing with Captain Myerscough was a battle all its own.

  Maybe he should have married Susan all those years ago. Settled down and had a family, instead of running off to play out his childhood James Bond fantasies.

  “Sir, you’re sighing a lot lately. Is everything all right?”

  “Fine, Perkins. I’ll be in touch shortly.”

  “Very good, sir.” Perkins signed off.

  Broadbent approached Myerscough’s tent with a heaviness in his step. He nodded to the guards, who relaxed their weapons when they saw it was him.

  “Afternoon, lads. Is he inside?”

  The guard on the left nodded. “Yes, sir, but he’s not himself, today, sir. Tread lightly.”

  Broadbent held his sigh in. Perkins was right—he was sighing a lot recently. He told himself that after this assignment he was going to retire. He’d been thinking about it since his fortieth birthday had come and gone, but whereas it had always been a joke between him and Perkins before, being made to risk his life for the sake of traipsing around Snowdonia to spy on a bunch of kids was making the idea of a cottage by the sea look more attractive by the minute.

  He entered the tent, calling, “Only me, Captain. May I come in?”

  Myerscough sat behind the desk in the middle of the tent while his secretaries bustled in the background. Broadbent saw mess everywhere. Myerscough looked up at Broadbent with red-rimmed eyes. Had the man even slept? He looked like he was having a breakdown.

  “Ah, Broadbent. Good to see you, old chap. Did you hear from HQ? Did they say we can leave?” He looked up hopefully at Broadbent. The secretaries beat a hasty retreat from the tent while Myerscough wasn’t paying attention.

  That told Broadbent everything. He’d seen this kind of thing a lot in recent times: officers who had previously had a sterling record losing their courage at the thought of facing TQB. He was glad the guard had warned him of Myerscough’s condition. He could get things done faster if he wasn’t butting heads with the army fellows.

  He shook his head. “Not quite, Captain. I’m to get eyes-on and report back.”

  “Better you than me,” Myerscough mumbled.

  Broadbent made a face to show his displeasure. “Did all the patrols come back in yet? I’d like to sit in on the debrief, if you don’t mind.”

  The captain frowned. “Patrols? Oh yes, of course, Agent.”

  Broadbent was more than concerned. Myerscough seemed to be losing his grip, not ideal when a single mistake could bring the full fury of TQB down upon them. “Captai
n, is there anything I can do for you? You need to pull it together, sir. Your men are depending on you.”

  “How the hell am I supposed to do that?” Myerscough spluttered. “Have you seen what one of those Bitches is capable of? We’re as good as dead if we carry on interfering, man. I say we avoid kicking the hornet’s nest.”

  Broadbent was aghast. “Captain! Get hold of yourself! The men are just outside. What if they hear you talking like this? You have a sworn duty, and I didn’t peg you for a coward.”

  This made Myerscough’s hackles rise and he stood up, leaning against the desk for support. His face reddened and he hesitated a couple of times before he found the words to speak. When he did, his voice was deathly quiet and steady. “Coward? I am not a coward, sir, and how dare you accuse me of such a thing! I was fighting in wars while you were still getting your botty changed by your mummy, so don’t talk to me about courage!” He slammed a meaty fist on the desk, causing his drink to spill over the edge of the tin mug he was using.

  His mustache bristled with indignation as he launched into a full-on rant, just as Broadbent intended. They were too easy, these army types.

  “I have dodged bullets, outrun missiles, and fought hand-to-hand with insurgents hell-bent on destroying our way of life. I’ll not be spoken to like this by you! Damn spook, what do you know? I’ve seen John Grimes in action, and I’m not talking about the videos of him slicing through hordes of monsters like they were butter. I was there…in the desert...” He wiped the sweat from his top lip. “Agent, I am not afraid for myself, but for my men. What will he do when he finds out we’ve been watching them? These boys have families!”

  Broadbent nodded sympathetically. “Just so, sir. I’m no happier than you about this, but orders are orders, and there’s more at stake here. I’ll be joining the debrief, then I need a couple of men for an observation.”

  Myerscough was lost in his memories again.

  “I’ll see myself out, sir,” Broadbent murmured, backing out of the tent.

  He paused by the guards. “What are your names, soldiers?”

  “The name's Barrowclough, sir,” the younger one said.

  “Eggy, sir,” was all the older soldier said, not taking his focus from his duty for a second.

  Broadbent liked the older soldier’s circumspect manner. Barrowclough wasn’t seasoned enough to have a nickname yet. Eggy would have the information Broadbent needed.

  “Good to meet you, Eggy. Walk with me, if you will.”

  Eggy was experienced enough to understand that Broadbent’s request was rhetorical. He fell in behind Broadbent as the agent strolled away from the tent.

  They walked in silence for a short way until Broadbent deemed they were out of the captain’s hearing, coming to rest at a boulder near the edge of camp.

  He took out a packet of cigarettes and offered one to Eggy. Nothing was more predictable than a hardened soldier. His guess was right, because the soldier took one, lit it, and blew a cloud of stinking smoke all around.

  Broadbent had an in. He lit a cigarette of his own, trying not to gag on the taste. He wasn’t a smoker, but whatever got the job done. He needed this soldier at ease for his questions.

  He scuffed the ground with his boot. “I have to ask, Eggy—is the Captain always this high-strung?”

  The squaddie shook his head. “I’ve been with him fifteen years,” he said sadly. “I’ve never seen him like this. The lads are worried, sir, if you don’t mind me speaking freely.”

  Broadbent nodded. “Speak freely, Eggy. Goodness knows there’s little opportunity to do so.”

  “It’s John Grimes, sir. We’ve seen the Bitches before, you see.” Eggy looked distant.

  “Yes, Myerscough did say something about the desert.”

  Eggy nodded. “We were in the dustbowl with the Americans when it happened. They came out of nowhere and destroyed a refinery. None of our telemetry picked up their ships. They were in and out before we could do a thing, sir. Blood everywhere.”

  “Civilians?” Broadbent was horrified.

  “Oh lord, no!” Eggy’s expression was almost one of hero worship. “They were ISIS scumbags, sir. Not one person died who didn’t deserve it. That op made me consider going AWOL, if I’m honest, sir. We’d been out there for weeks, watching the terrorists and waiting for a green light to clear the cockroaches out, and along they came and fixed the problem in just a few minutes. We rounded up the civilians afterwards. They were terrified. They saved them all, sir. It don’t sit right with me at all that we’re working secretly against them.” He realized what he’d said and shut his mouth.

  Broadbent reassured him. “It’s all right, Eggy. I’m in agreement with you, but as I’ve been saying a hell of a lot recently, orders are orders. Hey, what did you see when you went in afterwards? And don’t tell me you didn’t.” Broadbent could tell Eggy was about to clam up again. “I know you all got sent in to poke about for dropped tech. It’s been an addendum to protocol on every interaction with TQB recently.”

  Eggy stared past him at nothing.

  “That bad, eh?” Broadbent sympathized.

  “They had been annihilated. One looked like someone had ripped his arm off and beat him to death with the soggy end. A whole bunch of them looked like they’d been attacked by an animal. Something had torn them apart like ragdolls.”

  “I say! Good lord,” Broadbent managed.

  “That’s not even the worst bit.” Eggy’s eyes were far away, his mouth puckered in distaste. “As we were leaving, one of the guys slipped. It was dark by then, the only light coming from the burning refinery. When we got back in the transport and the lights came on we all saw he was covered in people purée. Never been able to eat marinara since.”

  Broadbent felt nauseous. He’d seen the reports from around the world on that night. “Did you see any of it happen?”

  Eggy shook his head, crushing the butt of his cigarette under the heel of his boot. “No, sir. They obliterated them so fast we only truly saw it on the surveillance footage afterwards. We wouldn’t have even had that if our main cam unit hadn’t broken down the week before. We were using an old camcorder we picked up in the market, along with our issued surveillance package, and that was the only thing that wasn’t wiped when we got back. The captain is just worried that will happen to us. He’s a good man, sir. He’ll pull through.”

  Broadbent patted the soldier’s shoulder. “I’ll see what I can do to get him some help. In the meantime, who would you choose if you needed a sneaky recce done?”

  “Bright and Hobson without a doubt, sir. Them lads are more like ninjas than soldiers. You’ll find them in the mess tent, prob’ly next to the keg.”

  Broadbent thanked him. “You’re lucky boys, getting a keg laid on for you.”

  “Oh no, sir. That’s due to Captain Myerscough. He has one shipped in whenever we stay still for more than five minutes.”

  “I wish my CO was as thoughtful,” Broadbent grumbled amicably.

  An hour later he crouched atop a ridge on the low peak that would give them an unobstructed view of the valleys below for miles around. Bright had gone ahead to set up their meager equipment. They were keeping watch on the famous Pen Y Gwryd hotel, where the Range Rover carrying their targets had parked forty minutes before.

  “Movement ahead, sir,” Sergeant Bright said in a voice too low to carry and give their position away. “It appears they’re leaving.”

  Broadbent took the digital field glasses Bright proffered, adjusting the zoom and focusing on the vehicle.

  “I stayed there once, back in the eighties. Nice place.” He watched the car pull away and take the turn leading further west. “I think they’re headed for Snowdon.”

  Bright nodded. “I’d have to agree, sir.”

  Their suspicions were confirmed a short time later when the vehicle stopped at the Snowdon view point on the road opposite the mountain.

  “Is it true that John Grimes can kill you with laser beams from
his eyes?” Hobson asked.

  Broadbent snorted. “What? No, Hobson! He’s as human as the rest of us.”

  “That’s not what I’ve heard.” Hobson looked at Bright, who shook his head. “I heard they’re up there getting all pally with the aliens. How do we know they haven’t been bodysnatched and the aliens aren’t using them to stage a quiet invasion, eh?”

  “Shut up, you gormless nitwit,” Bright snapped. “That’s just hearsay and rubbish. I don’t believe there’s any aliens at all. They’ve got a supercomputer and a hell of a lot of money—that’s how they’re doing all this.”

  Broadbent ignored the bickering soldiers and continued watching as John Grimes and the children piled out of the car. The kids stood at the railing looking at the mountain while Grimes pulled a few hefty-looking rucksacks out of the boot and dumped them on one of the picnic tables. He pulled a device from his pocket and started to talk.

  “I wish we had audio,” Broadbent muttered.

  Hobson stepped forwards. “I can lip-read, sir.”

  “Why are you only telling me this now?” He passed Hobson the field glasses. “Well, what are they saying?”

  “Hang on a minute, sir. The zoom’s acting up.” Hobson fiddled with the buttons on the side to adjust the zoom. A second later he threw the field glasses to the ground with a yelp as they released a puff of acrid smoke. “They burned me!”

  Broadbent peered at the place they’d landed. The grass they had landed on was turning brown as the field glasses warped from the heat they were producing. The casing burst with a pop, startling the three of them.

  “Poxy bloody technology!” Broadbent swore. “We’d better move to a closer vantage point before they leave the view point and we lose them.”

  United Kingdom, North Wales, Conwy Castle, Manufacturing Floor, Store Room

  Tina giggled as Ron nuzzled her nose with his. She tucked her hair behind her ear with one hand and pushed him away gently with the other. “Come on, we’d better get back with these packing materials before Ms. Dukes notices we’ve been gone too long.”

  They were helping break down the equipment that was scheduled to be shipped to the Meredith Reynolds later in the week. Jean had sent them to the store room almost fifteen minutes ago.