by D F Capps
As they neared the corner, Henderson pulled a hand-sized mirror on a short rod from his pocket and poked it out into the intersection. Both light and thermal images would reflect off the mirror. “No Zetas, but we’ve got more devices.” He used the mirror to aim and fire the flash gun at the devices. “All clear.”
Novak stepped into the intersection. The aisle on each side curved around the central hub where the huge hole was. He looked at the map being filled in on his goggle display.
“Huh,” he said. “It looks like it’s laid out the same as the pentagon, only with rounded sides instead of straight ones.”
“So which way?” Henderson asked.
“Left,” Novak answered.
The first room they encountered was on the right. There were two doorways in the outer curved wall and only one on the inside wall. Henderson used the mirror on a rod to take a look.
“No devices that I can see.”
Novak took a quick look inside the room and moved on.
Henderson took a peek into the room on the left.
“I got a bunch of hair-sized cables running in from everywhere,” Henderson said. “Kind of looks like a spider’s web connected to a box.”
“Any devices?” Novak asked.
Henderson shook his head. “Not that I can see.”
Novak stepped into the room. “It’s not hair. You’re looking at thousands of very thin fiber optic cables. This is the master control room.”
Chapter 25
Sean leaned back in the chair and studied Ed as he read through the article.
“Okay,” Ed said. “Now I have enough to bring to the owners. I want you to keep digging. We need more material for follow-up articles. This is going to make a great series.”
“I got some frosting on the cake this morning,” Sean said. “Did you read the email I sent?”
Ed frowned. “How long ago?”
Sean shrugged. “Half an hour?”
Ed glanced at his computer. “Just give me the bottom line.”
“I had the meteor chip from Laura analyzed. Entry into the atmosphere heats the iron and changes the crystalline structure. This chip is pristine. No signs of heating.”
Ed’s mouth dropped open for a moment. “Any way to fake that?”
Sean shook his head. “Nope. It’s from outer space.”
Ed glanced at the door. “Any way she could have acquired a meteor, maybe from NASA?”
Sean shook his head again. “None. I checked. No connection with any people or agency with an outer space connection.”
Ed’s expression clouded. “It’s all real, isn’t it?”
Sean nodded in reply, then hesitated before he said, “I want to do a book.”
Ed looked over at him. “The article’s going to be copyrighted by the paper. You’ll need the permission of the owners.”
“Understood.” Sean tipped his head. “I’m just opening the conversation.”
Ed rubbed his chin. “The owners also own a book publishing house, right here in New York City. They just might go for it.”
* * *
Rosaq watched his display screen with great interest. The humans had entered the underground base in northern New Mexico through the back wall and successfully made their way down the saucer access shaft. Very ingenious for humans, he thought. He studied them as they eliminated one device after another until they arrived at the main control room. Curious, he thought. They seem to have a natural aptitude for technology. Not only had they taken the flash guns from the Zeta Greys, they had modified their use into something more familiar to them: a frame that allowed better aiming of the flash gun. He was about to activate the self-destruct device, but hesitated.
Destroying the underground base would claim only about thirty enemy lives, but it would render the base unusable. Everything would have to be rebuilt. He calculated the time and number of workers that would be needed to reconstruct the base. The effort to do that wasn’t worth the thirty lives he could take. There were more efficient ways to eliminate enemy combatants. Besides, since the humans had so few soldiers, they wouldn’t be able to occupy the base anyway. He could take it back at any time.
He studied the faces of his enemy as they examined the fiber optic network and the small computer he intentionally left behind. Even with their aptitude for technology, there was so much they didn’t, or couldn’t, understand. The Earth humans were still primitive on so many levels. The Zeta Greys had mastered gravity long ago and had the technology to pass through seemingly solid objects. The humans had thousands of years of science to go through before they could duplicate the advanced science of the Zeta Greys. By then the gulf between human and Zeta Grey sciences would be even greater.
He leaned forward to get a better look at the commanding officer of the humans that had invaded his base. For knowing so little about the Zeta Greys, the humans seemed very arrogant and overly confident. Soon, he thought. Soon I will wipe you from the face of your own planet, and you won’t even see it coming.
* * *
Colonel Novak and his men vaporized the box and the fiber optic cables in the master control room, then methodically eliminated every device from the underground base. As they continued to explore the base they found numerous cages and vats of stinking liquids. Everything else seemed to have been cleared out. On the far side of the lowest level from the master control room was a substantial cavern.
Novak aimed his high intensity light into the vast underground space. Eight-foot diameter tunnels led off in twenty-three different directions.
“Where do you think they go?” Henderson asked.
“All over the world, Sergeant.” Novak’s shoulders slumped. “All over the world.”
Chapter 26
Conrad Kaplan arrived at the Krestu Atol on his eighty-four foot yacht, Dominator II just after noon. A shiny Mylar balloon set up as a radar target floated above on a mile-long tether.
“It’s ready to go,” Harlan Mohr said. “You won’t believe how fast the new missile is. These things are crazy fast.”
Kaplan was naturally skeptical. “How accurate?”
Harlan held his hands up in front of him. “I know. We had to upgrade the guidance system three times because of the speed, but I think we’re there.”
Kaplan grunted. “When’s the demonstration?”
“Everyone’s here: top brass from the Pentagon and four generals from the army. The launch point is a thousand miles away.”
Kaplan nodded. “All right, let’s see it in action.”
Harlan called over the two-way radio and said they were ready to initiate the test. He listened for a moment then turned to Conrad.
“Missile launch confirmed. The timer is running.”
“Which way will it come from?” Kaplan asked.
Harlan smiled. “It’ll come from the northeast. If you’re not careful, you’ll miss it.”
Kaplan scoffed. “And all of Rosaq’s alien technology is actually working?”
Harlan nodded. “We put two rings around the missile with angled blades similar to a turbine, only shorter. The rings spin in opposite directions so they don’t interfere with the flight path. One ring drives the inertial reduction system and the other creates an electrostatic field in front of and behind the missile. Between the two we’ve achieved a five times increase in speed and range.”
Kaplan looked at him with excitement in his heart. This was exactly the weapon he had dreamed of to take out intercontinental ballistic missiles before they got out of the atmosphere.
“How long?”
Harlan glanced at his watch. “Halfway. Another ninety seconds and it’ll hit the balloon.”
“You’re saying the missile covered five hundred miles in ninety seconds?”
Harlan shrugged. “Not quite. It takes the missile twelve seconds to reach maximum speed.”
“Which is?” Kaplan asked.
Harlan grinned. “Twenty thousand miles an hour.”
Kaplan raised his
eyebrows.
“Yeah, I know,” Harlan said. “Look right over there. It’s coming.”
A streak of smoke appeared faster than he could follow it. A flash of light and then a loud explosion rocked the sky above them.
“Direct hit,” Harlan said. “It’ll take the air force two more days to set up an ICBM missile launch. That’ll be our final demonstration. After that we build and deploy the new interceptor missiles around Russia.”
Kaplan dialed a number on his satellite phone and waited for the call to go through.
“Gerard.”
“Mr. Gerard, proceed with our plan in Poland.”
“Proceeding with Poland,” Gerard confirmed, then disconnected.
“Finally,” Kaplan said to himself. “I can’t wait to see Russia burn.”
* * *
Commander Pedder and his men moved in and secured the underground alien base in Northern New Mexico. The Seabee battalion lowered the newly created vehicles down the vertical shaft used by the Zeta Grey saucers. Each of the specially constructed vehicles was driven by a small gasoline engine that drove an electrical generator. The electricity was used for both the small motor that drove the vehicle and the pump to spray the iodine. The vehicle was formed primarily by a six-foot diameter tank, thirty feet long.
The Seabees placed a vehicle in each of the twenty-three tunnels that led off into the rock and rigged the arms with wheels on them to keep the vehicle centered in the tunnel. A hose from a tanker truck on the surface fed iodine into the large tank.
“How far do you think they’ll go?” Commander Pedder asked.
Lieutenant Chambers, commanding officer of the Seabees, raised his eyebrows. “We’ll see. Each vehicle has enough gas and iodine to run and spray for three days. At a running speed of thirty-five miles per hour, they’ve got a range of about twenty-five hundred miles. We’re setting up telemetry antennas at the entrance to each tunnel so we can keep track of them.”
As the iodine and gas tanks on each vehicle were topped off, a Seabee started the engine, engaged the pump and drive motors, and sent the vehicles on their way down the tunnels.
Chapter 27
Sixty mercenaries gathered in an empty warehouse on the outskirts of Terespol, Poland, close to the border of Belarus.
“The Russian military Zapad exercises in Belarus have started and are expected to run for the rest of the month,” Sheldon Gerard said. “Approximately two hundred tanks have been in place since President Pasternov moved them to the Polish border a month ago. They are gradually being moved back into Russia by train and are not part of the Zapad training exercise. Security is light to nonexistent around the tanks. Assault Leader Gruber will meet you across the border in Belarus. You will cross the Zekhidnyi Buh River by train in small groups during the day and rendezvous on the north side of Brest at twenty-two hundred hours. Any questions?”
“There are four exfiltration points in the plan. Which one do we use?” a soldier asked.
Gerard nodded. “That will depend on how deep into Poland we can penetrate before NATO forces arrive. We will announce the final exfil location when the time comes.”
* * *
Assault Leader Gruber watched the sky as heavy clouds rolled in. Perfect he thought. He led the group of sixty men crawling through the open field to the Russian air base north of Brest, Belarus. As they reached the fence he cut several of the lower wires and tied them back. He crawled through and waited for the remaining men to move forward. Each soldier had a canvas bag filled with shoulder launched missiles cradled in his arms.
The base was quiet, with a two-man foot patrol around the perimeter once every two hours. They had an hour and a half before their breach of the outer fence would be discovered. Thirty minutes later they reached the fenced area where the tanks were being stored as a light rain began to fall. Once through the fence they moved among the tanks and climbed into the first thirty tanks closest to the main gate.
“Fuel and batteries?” Gruber asked.
“Batteries are charged. Fuel looks like a quarter tank. We’re good to go.”
Gruber opened the lid to the ammunition compartment. It was empty, as expected. He stood on the platform and looked out at the other tanks. One by one, heads popped up to let him know they were ready.
“Fire this puppy up. It’s time to hit the road.”
“Yes, sir,” his driver answered.
Black diesel exhaust billowed from the tanks as the roar of the engines broke through the silence of the night. Gruber’s tank led the way driving straight through the main gate. He followed the main road to the air base entrance. The guards at the entrance waved their arms in the air in an effort to get the tanks to stop. They dived to the side to avoid being run over. Several guards fired their weapons at the tanks. Gruber just shook his head and smiled. He turned his tank column west on highway M1 and headed for the border of Poland.
Four local police cars blockaded the bridge over the Zekhidnyi Buh River, flashers distorted by the increasing rain. Police officers were crouched behind the vehicles, weapons pointed at the tanks. Gruber pulled the Russian SA-24 Grinch shoulder-launched missile up through the top hatch of the tank and took aim at the center of the police cars. He pulled the trigger. The missile streaked forward and detonated on the front corner of one of the cars. The explosion opened a six-foot gap between the vehicles. At fifty miles per hour it took a fraction of a second for his tank to plow through what remained of the police cars.
On the Polish side of the river the highway number changed to sixty-eight. Nine minutes later he turned west on highway E30. At his current speed, his column of tanks would reach Warsaw in two and a quarter hours.
“Blitzkrieg!” he shouted as he raised his fist in the rain.
* * *
“Russia’s invaded Poland!” Doug Franks yelled as he entered the room.
President Andrews stood in shock. “That can’t be right. Pasternov wouldn’t do that.”
His chief of staff slapped the document down on Andrews’s desk. “It’s right there, in black and white.”
Andrews picked up the document and read its brief contents. “There’s got to be more to it than this.”
“Joint Chiefs are assembling in the situation room,” Franks replied. As they walked down the hall he said, “We’re getting new data in every minute. The NRO has a satellite surveillance feed. I’m having it routed to the main screen.”
Andrews glanced around as he entered the room. “What have we got?”
“Thirty Russian main battle tanks have invaded Poland,” General Sadowski said. “We’ve been watching the Zapad exercises in Belarus. Up to twenty SU-27 Russian fighters are in the process of taking off in the Brest area. Best guess is they’re air support for the column of thirty tanks.”
“Only thirty?” Andrews asked. “Shouldn’t there be several hundred tanks?”
General Sadowski adjusted the satellite view back to the Russian base north of Brest. “That’s the thing. Pasternov moved five hundred main battle tanks to Brest a month ago. He’s been gradually returning them to their home base in Russia. Two hundred tanks remain, but only thirty are in motion at this time.”
Peter Newcomb, the director of national intelligence said, “If I were Pasternov, and I intended to invade Poland, I would have left all five hundred tanks in place. To reduce that number to two hundred and then use only thirty tanks in an assault doesn’t make any sense.”
Andrews breathed out slowly, trying to calm his frayed nerves. “You’re right. It doesn’t make sense. Get Pasternov on the phone.”
After a short delay, his chief of staff announced, “President Pasternov is on the line.” He pressed the speaker button.
“Yuri? It’s Jason Andrews. What’s going on in Brest, Belarus?”
The furious sound of activity filled the background. “We’re trying to figure that out. Whatever appears to be happening is not officially sanctioned. Don’t do anything aggressive until I get back to you.”
Pasternov muted the line.
“What do you think?” General Sadowski asked.
“It’s a delaying tactic,” Newcomb stated. “We need to act now.”
General Sadowski’s cell phone chirped. He pulled it out and read the message. “NATO has issued an Article Five alert. Fighter squadrons and tanks are responding.”
Andrews nodded. “NATO Article Five: An attack against one is an attack against all.”
“All missile batteries are going on full alert. I’m being asked if nuclear weapons are being authorized.”
Andrews shook his head. “If five hundred tanks were crossing into Poland with full air support, maybe. But thirty? I’m not buying it.”
“Russian SU-27 fighters are in the air, crossing into Poland at this time. The tanks have air support.”
Andrews tilted his head back and breathed out quickly. “We wait. Let our forces continue on alert, but there is to be no authorization to engage. Are we clear?”
General Sadowski frowned, but said nothing further.
“Are we clear?” Andrews repeated in a much firmer tone.
“Yes, sir. Perfectly clear.”
* * *
Assault Leader Gruber listened to the Russian radio traffic through his headphones. He grinned at the confusion taking place in the Russian command. He looked up at the roar of SU-27 fighters streaking over him, barely five hundred feet away.
Up ahead, the road curved to the right to bypass the city of Biała Podlaska. It was too soon for NATO to get soldiers in position and the Russian fighters would need authorization from way up the chain of command. So far they were free to continue. Gerard had given him specific instructions regarding Biała Podlaska. They took the exit that led through the middle of town.
* * *
“It’s President Pasternov,” Franks said.
“Yuri, you’re on speaker phone,” Andrews said.