And to cap it all, the special Janet flight that he had ordered was, by his watch, at least twenty-three minutes late.
Groom Lake Air Force Base, Nevada
‘That’s not a good idea,’ Ketch said, stopping abruptly about three feet from the door.
‘Why not?’ Hunter asked. ‘You said you’d be happy to introduce Doctor Evans to one of them.’
‘That was a joke,’ Ketch said.
‘I didn’t think it was funny,’ Hunter said. ‘How about you, Dick?’
‘Nope. Not funny at all,’ Reilly agreed.
‘Look,’ Ketch said, a note of desperation creeping into his voice, ‘the fact that there are aliens inside this building is highly classified.’
‘So’s everything else around here.’
‘I know, but this is different. I’m the only one who’s supposed to have any contact with them. Nobody else on the base knows they’re here at all. I can’t just walk in with you two behind me. It would be a total breach of security – their security as well as our own.’
‘I don’t think,’ Reilly said, ‘that we’ve been makin’ ourselves quite clear. Basically, if we say “jump”, the only thing you get to say is “how high?” You got that?’
Before Ketch could reply, a faint musical bell-like note echoed around the office, coming from Ketch’s desk. Hunter swiftly strode over to it and looked down.
‘What is it?’ Reilly asked.
‘It’s this grey panel on the left here,’ Hunter replied. ‘A light’s come on, and the tell-tale reads ‘Confirmation of processing status requested.’’
‘OK,’ Reilly said. ‘Looks like your little grey chums is gettin’ agitated, Mr. Ketch. Really think the three of us oughtta go on down and see what the hell they want.’
Overhead Salina, Utah
‘Where are we now?’ McGrath asked as the co-pilot returned to the passenger cabin of the Learjet.
‘We’re coming up on Salina, Utah, Mr. McGrath, and we’ve just passed over the Wasatch Range. I thought you might like to know that we’ve had no problems with the clearances,’ he said, ‘and we’ve been cleared for a straight-in approach at Groom Lake. We’re now about twenty minutes out.’
The co-pilot took the glass and empty bottle from the table in front of McGrath, walked towards the front of the cabin into the galley, stowed the glass in a rack and put the bottle in a disposal bin.
‘We’ll be starting descent in about three minutes, sir, so could I ask you not to leave your seat from now on, and to keep your seat belt on. Met reports some possible clear air turbulence ahead of us, so it may get a little bumpy on the way down.’
As he spoke, a soft chime sounded, and the ‘seat belt’ sign illuminated. A few seconds later McGrath felt, rather than heard, the change in the engine note as the pilot throttled back and the Learjet began to lose height.
Groom Lake Air Force Base, Nevada
The processing room had been in semi-darkness and total silence since Reilly had closed and locked the door, but small sounds were now becoming audible as the girls in the caskets began to wake up.
The air/gas mixture was carefully controlled by the monitoring system, and subjects could be revived in a matter of fifteen to twenty minutes by high concentrations of oxygen, which was what happened when they were processed. Left to breathe air containing the normal proportion of oxygen, and with the oxygen/nitrous oxide mixture still being pumped out into the lidless caskets and from there into the atmosphere of the processing room, it took far longer for them to wake up.
But it wouldn’t be long before some of them would start trying to climb out of the caskets, and would find themselves still strapped in.
McCarran Air Force Base, Las Vegas, Nevada
‘And about fucking time too,’ Williams muttered angrily as the Boeing 737 taxied to a stop in front of the terminal building.
Without waiting for instructions, he strode forward and arrived beside the forward passenger door before the motorized stairs had been positioned. As soon as the steps were in place, Williams ran up them and pushed forward into the cabin.
‘Let’s get going,’ he snapped, as the pilot stuck his head out of the cockpit.
‘Where’s everybody else?’ the pilot demanded. Like all the Janet pilots, he was a civilian, employed by the private company that worked under contract to the Air Force providing air transport services to and from Groom Lake. Like Williams, he too had been dragged out of bed – someone else’s bed, in fact – and wasn’t in the best of tempers. Irritated senior military officers impressed him not one jot.
‘There isn’t anybody else,’ Williams said. ‘I’m the only passenger.’
The pilot looked him up and down. ‘Seems mighty wasteful to me,’ he said.
‘So sue the fucking Air Force,’ Williams said. ‘Now get this aircraft moving.’
‘Not yet,’ the pilot said. ‘We’ve got some cargo to collect.’
‘Cargo?’ Williams demanded. ‘What cargo? This is supposed to be a priority flight.’
‘I know,’ the pilot said, ‘but this cargo has exactly the same priority as you, so I suggest you go and sit down somewhere. We’ll get airborne as soon as we can.’
Groom Lake Air Force Base, Nevada
‘Steve,’ Christy-Lee called across the room.
She was finally sitting up on the camp bed. Her headache had finally receded, and she was feeling more or less normal.
Hunter turned towards her. ‘Feeling better?’ he asked.
‘Much better, thank you,’ she said. ‘Now can you please just tell me what the hell is going on here. And for starters, where exactly is “here”?’
‘Groom Lake Air Base in the middle of Area 51 in Nevada is where we are right now,’ Hunter replied. ‘The really short version is that this bastard –’ he gestured towards Ketch ‘– has been administering a kind of barter program, swapping human flesh for leading-edge technology.’
Christy-Lee gave a weak smile. ‘I like it. Good story. Straight out of the “X-Files”. Now, what’s really going on?’
‘That,’ Hunter said, walking over to her, ‘is the truth, and I wish to God it wasn’t. The icing on the cake is that the technology doesn’t come from anywhere here. It comes from out there,’ and he pointed to the ceiling.
‘What?’
‘The technology this operation has been obtaining since the late 1940s comes from alien civilizations. They like to eat people, and they bought the rights to harvest human beings with advanced technology. You,’ Hunter added, ‘were scheduled to be a part of that harvest.’
‘You are joking?’ Christy-Lee asked, but the look on Hunter’s face silenced her.
‘Dear God,’ she muttered. ‘Are you sure? I mean – aliens? You haven’t been watching too many bad movies?’
‘Nope,’ Hunter said. ‘At least, I don’t think so. We haven’t yet seen one of the aliens, but that is the next scheduled attraction in this interesting establishment.’
‘And who are these two?’
‘Toni Welsh, who’s been looking after you since I pulled you out of the room downstairs, was also intended to be a part of the same harvest. The man in the rather fetching dark blue shorts is Doctor Evans, formerly part of this program, who’s now turned state’s evidence, so to speak, and who’s been helping us.’
Reilly gestured suddenly and walked towards the window. He’d heard the sound of additional vehicles arriving outside.
‘More company,’ he said laconically. ‘A coupla three-ton trucks and what looks like an APC.’
‘An Armoured Personnel Carrier?’ Hunter asked, leaving Christy-Lee and joining Reilly at the window. ‘Looks like they’re getting serious. And it’s almost dawn,’ he added. ‘We need to make some decisions soon.’
Ketch peered towards the window, the smile slowly returning to his face, as he realized that the odds were steadily and inexorably altering in his favour.
Behind him, and unobserved by anybody in the room, Ketch’s offic
e door handle slowly began to turn.
Nellis Air Force Range, Nevada
The Learjet passed a couple of miles due south of Rachel in its descent into Groom Lake, the pilot manoeuvring to intercept the extended centreline of the runway for a straight-in approach. Simultaneously, the Janet Boeing 737 carrying Major-General Williams was passing above Mercury, and just about to enter the restricted airspace of Area 51.
In the Learjet, William McGrath ran his eyes for the last time down the checklist that he had prepared, then put the paper into his briefcase and closed his eyes. He was tired, absolutely worn-out, and the temptation to sleep was enormous, but he knew that until he’d resolved the situation at Groom Lake he would get no rest.
Groom Lake Air Force Base, Nevada
The sound Toni made wasn’t a scream, but it was close to it. She’d been sitting on the camp bed, her gaze wandering erratically around the room, when she’d seen the door opening. She’d watched it with idle curiosity, then jumped up as the creature had walked through the doorway, what looked like a small pistol in its right hand.
Hunter and Reilly spun around, but it was Christy-Lee who moved the fastest. Hunter’s Glock was lying on the end of Ketch’s desk, and she’d picked it up, aimed and fired two shots before anybody else had even started to react.
‘Jesus alive,’ Reilly whispered, as he looked across the room towards the door.
The alien wasn’t dead, but was certainly dying. Christy-Lee’s shots had taken it twice in the chest, close to where the heart would be on a human being, and the front of the light blue coveralls was already soaked with what looked like blood. It was darker in colour, closer to black than red.
Christy-Lee was white and shaking, her eyes wide and staring, the Glock still pointing towards the door.
‘Fuck,’ she shouted. ‘Fuck, fuck. What the fuck is that thing?’ Her voice was quavering with shock. ‘Is it dead? It had a gun. What the fuck is it?’
Ketch had sprung back, away from the alien, as soon as Christy-Lee had fired, and it was Hunter who stepped forward, gently took the Glock from Kaufmann’s hand, walked towards the door and looked down. The object Christy-Lee had thought was a pistol looked like that to Hunter as well, so he picked it up and slid it into his pocket, then stared down at the thing on the floor.
The huge oval black eyes looked up at him from the expressionless face, the small mouth opening and closing steadily. Hunter’s gaze was steady and contemptuous as he looked down.
‘Do these things speak English?’ he asked Ketch, without taking his eyes off the alien.
‘Yes,’ Ketch replied. ‘Most of them have some telepathic skills, as well.’
‘We’re going to finish you,’ Hunter said, staring down at the creature on the floor. ‘Your foul little operation here is over.’
The voice, when it came, was reedy and high-pitched, but perfectly comprehensible.
‘You are vermin, less than nothing. The harvest will continue. You cannot stop it.’
‘We’ll give it a try,’ Hunter said, and raised the Glock.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sunday
Groom Lake Air Force Base, Nevada
The Learjet touched down smoothly, and the pilot taxied it off the huge main runway, following the directions given by the ground controller. After a few minutes, the aircraft stopped in a dispersal close to the Flight Operations building, and the pilot shut down both engines.
When William McGrath stepped down onto the concrete, he was approached by a young Air Force lieutenant, who snapped him a crisp salute.
‘Mr. McGrath? I’m Lieutenant Keating, sir. I’m your guide and escort.’
McGrath extended a hand, and Keating, after a moment’s hesitation, took it.
‘Have you been briefed on the current situation, sir?’ Keating asked as the two men walked towards the Flight Operations Center building.
McGrath glanced at his watch. ‘The last update I received was about four hours ago,’ he said. ‘Have there been any new developments?’
Keating shook his head. ‘Not really, sir. The Rolver Systems’ building is still apparently deserted, with just a few lights showing. No telephones are being answered, and there’s no response to the main gate intercom. There were what sounded like three shots fired, two very close together then another a few moments later, inside the building about thirty minutes ago, but we can’t confirm this. As I’m sure you know, the building is effectively armoured, so all sounds within it are very muffled and indistinct.’
‘OK. You know there’s an unscheduled Janet flight this morning?’
‘Yes, sir. I believe it’s bringing the commanding officer out here.’
‘It is. More importantly, it’s also bringing out a special cargo. As soon as the aircraft has arrived, I want the packages – there’ll be about twelve or fifteen of them – delivered to me at the Rolver Systems’ compound. Have them loaded into a bus, not a truck. Got that?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Keating replied, suppressing a smile. He wondered just how Major-General Thomas Williams would feel if he knew that he came second in importance to a bunch of packages.
‘You have explosives here, presumably?’ McGrath asked.
‘Yes, sir, of course. What sort did you want?’ Keating asked, clearly puzzled.
‘The type isn’t important. Just get enough together to level a building and get them delivered to the Rolver Systems’ compound, please.
‘Finally, and this may not be too easy for you to do, I don’t want or need Major-General Williams cluttering up the place while I’m trying to sort out the situation at the Rolver Systems’ compound. Can you tell him that I’ve left explicit instructions with you that he’s to take no part in the operation, and he’s not welcome even as an observer. As far as I’m concerned, you’re in charge of the military cordon.’
‘I’ll try to be tactful, sir, but it will be a pleasure,’ Keating said.
‘Right. You’ve obviously got a vehicle ready. Let’s go down to the Rolver Systems’ building. I want to see what the place looks like.’
* * *
Dawn had come. The troops outside had switched off the floodlights and had deployed slightly further away from the compound boundary fence in a rough circle, covering the whole of the perimeter. As far as Hunter could tell, there were probably fifty or sixty troops in all, plus their vehicles and the APC.
‘It’s time,’ he said. ‘The longer we stay here, the less tenable our situation becomes. We need to decide, and decide now, what we’re going to do.’
He was seated on the end of Ketch’s desk. Reilly was still sitting in the leather swivel chair and Christy-Lee was standing beside Hunter. Ketch was again lashed to the upright chair, and Reilly had gagged him for good measure. Toni Welsh was lying on the bed, eyes closed: shock had set in, and she hadn’t spoken in over an hour. Doctor Evans sat slumped in another chair, his eyes watchful as he listened to their conversation.
‘I also think,’ Hunter went on, ‘that we need to be quite clear about the facts of life as they apply here. We’ve seen what goes on inside this building. If we try and just walk away, we may not get shot down immediately, but I’d be willing to bet that we’d all be dead in a week. We know too much, and they simply couldn’t take the risk of us telling anyone else what we know.’
‘Gotta agree with that,’ Reilly said. ‘That guy from the clean-up team was willin’ to kill the doctor who did the autopsy on Billy Dole’s body, and he knew nothin’, really. We know everything. I wouldn’t even give us a week. I think they’ll cut us down as soon as we step out through the door.’
William McGrath looked carefully at the Rolver Systems’ building through the compact binoculars Keating had given him. It wasn’t full daylight, but the light was good enough to allow him to see the building clearly.
He put down the binoculars and motioned to Keating to follow him. He led the way to a parked USAF van and stepped on board. When Keating had climbed in beside him and shut the door, h
e took a single sheet of paper out of his inside jacket pocket and looked down at it, checking the points that had to be covered.
‘What I want doing is this,’ McGrath began, and spoke quietly to Keating for almost five minutes.
Christy-Lee looked sadly down at Hunter.
‘Not exactly the most successful rescue operation I’ve ever heard of,’ she said.
Hunter glanced up at her. ‘Better by far to go with a bullet through the chest than to suffer the processing they had in mind for you,’ he said.
‘So, what do we do?’
‘We’ve got three choices, the way I see it. We can just walk away and risk being cut down, or go out shooting and make certain of it. In either case, I vote we terminate Roland Oliver before we open that door.’
‘You can do that?’ Christy-Lee asked.
Hunter grinned. ‘I can’t, but it turns out that Dick Reilly here travels with C4 and Semtex the way other people carry spare shirts. He’s got enough to level this building and trap those grey bastards in the basement permanently.’
* * *
Keating and McGrath emerged from the USAF van, and Keating hurried over to a soldier carrying a radio set. Three minutes later he was back beside McGrath, looking at the building.
‘All done?’ McGrath asked.
‘All done,’ Keating confirmed.
‘Right. Order your troops back another fifty yards. When they’re in position, order one of them to walk a few paces forward until he’s clearly visible from that window over there –’ he pointed at the illuminated window on the top floor of the building ‘– and then instruct him to fire three well-separated shots into the air. He’s to make it quite obvious what he’s doing. I don’t want there to be any possibility of a misunderstanding. I especially don’t want a fire-fight to erupt.’
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