Lisa was not expecting him to be so excited about the work he was doing, and is a little taken aback. “I am glad you’re finding your work, uh, interesting. We can trade jobs anytime you like.” She is, of course, joking and he knows it.
George’s excitement is replaced by sadness. “It is hard sometimes when I think about helping these aliens. They are responsible for the deaths of many of our friends, and it still really bothers me.”
“We really don't know that for sure. It may have been as the media has said; maybe we did change the asteroids’ path.” Lisa is not sure herself, and her own uncertainty comes through in her voice.
“Well,” says George with conviction. “I do know that the Gamin could wipe us out if they wanted to, but instead they are actually helping us.” He frowns as he considers his own words. “Well, they are getting us to help them. I guess that's more accurate.”
“You should keep working with them; perhaps the truth will come out.” She yawns and rolls over to go to sleep. “Night, my love.”
George feels comforted by her words as he too, falls asleep. He has vivid and wild dreams of lost friends, family, and the Gamin.
Location:
New York
New York City Morgue
The detectives have been waiting patiently, not sure of what to expect. Captain Harris, with his Texas drawl, had been quite specific. “Jones and Edwards, get over to the city morgue and talk with Dr. Lee, to see what the fuss is about.”
Finally, a small Asian man approaches the seated detectives. “I am Dr. Lee. I take it you two are the detectives sent to me?”
Standing up and making a simple motion with his hand, Detective Jones simply says, “Jones and Edwards, whatcha got?”
Towering over the small doctor, the two detectives follow him to a room containing eight tables. Each table has a body on it in various states of decomposition. Both detectives gag a little. Though the room smells of a variety of chemicals, they do not fully mask the stench of death and decay.
Dr. Lee points to a row of corpses and says, “I have sorted these bodies based on estimated time of death. This first group of five, has been dead for about four days. Those two have been dead for about three days, and this one came in today. I have another fourteen bodies that are in worse condition, but these show the details I want you to see.”
The small Asian doctor leads the two detectives to the least repulsive corpse, and points to its head. The detectives have to look closely, but finally they can see a small hole in the back of the victim’s skull. In an unexpected and grotesque display, the doctor inserts a thin rod into the hole and right through. It exits from a small hole in the forehead of the victim.
Dr. Lee looks at the two men as he continues. “Now, detectives, I have seen many bullet injuries in my time, but none like this.”
Jones and Edwards stare at the row of bodies. Detective Jones ventures forth. “We will need the locations of where these bodies were all found.”
“Sure, I have that info right here on the desk.” The Doctor hands the detectives a list of addresses.
The pair leaves the morgue and then begins to work their way down the list given to them. Each of the locations is an open rooftop that has little to show. After a brief search, they find some shell casings belonging to a variety of different weapons, mostly rifles. The day wears on, but finally the detectives are wandering the rooftop of the last address.
Suddenly, detective Edwards discovers the one common denominator between all the rooftops. “Hey, Jones, come look at this.” He points, and in the distance is the giant alien spacecraft.
Looking back and forth, Detective Edwards heads to the far side of the roof and looks at the low wall facing Manhattan. “We have to check all the rooftops again.” He has an idea of what is going on.
They have to revisit all the rooftops again, before finally they find one with promise. According to the morgue report, this particular rooftop had four bodies discovered on it.
Jones stands on the rooftop gazing at the setting sun, and as he watches, his attention is drawn to motion near the massive spacecraft. “So, you think these idiots are shooting at the aliens?” He asks as he spots a small group of people walking away from the spaceship.
“Yep, and the aliens are shootin' back.” Edwards replies. Eventually, he discovers what he is looking for, and says, “And here is our proof.”
Embedded into the wall facing the spacecraft, is a small rock-like object. Extracting the object with tweezers, Edwards drops it into an evidence bag. There looks to be dried blood, or something, on it.
“Let's get this checked out.” Edwards says as he holds up the small bag and grins. He is quite pleased with himself.
The lab reports later that night are quite unusual; they are run over, and over again, many times to be sure. By morning, there is no doubt that the rock is made up of an unknown material. It has a density far exceeding anything known to mankind. Instead of finding solutions, the material baffles all who look, even when using powerful microscopes. The lab workers are completely perplexed by what they have in their possession, and have no answers.
Back at the station, Detective Edwards reads over his report one last time. “It would seem that the peaceful Gamin are having a little target practice. All evidence points to this being a defensive posture, and not an initiation of hostilities.” He realizes that if the roles were reversed, we, too, would be defending ourselves from attackers such as those that lay in the morgue. He considers what the aliens are doing. On one hand, they have us police ourselves, and on the other, they just kill us when they see fit. “Hmm, but what to do about this?” He says, thinking aloud to no one in particular.
Location:
Forest area west of Clamart
Paris, France
Much to their relief, Radclyf's team finally receives new instructions. Doing nothing is not an easy task for this group of men. Looking at his team, Radclyf considers the orders with special consideration for Peter’s role.
Radclyf relays the orders to the team exactly as he received them. “We are to continue going to the Gamin training. We will follow up with the various doctors and surgeons to glean as much information as possible. I shall go to the next training session, and Peter will locate the facility the French are using. We are to plan an incursion to obtain a copy of all the data they have, plus any results from any tests that may be ongoing.”
Now that Peter is being included in the team, they all discuss their new orders in slightly more detail than normal, just to clarify each member’s task.
It is rare that any of Radclyf's team questions orders, but Paul speaks up. “Sir, if these aliens are just giving away the information, why do we need to take it from the French?”
Radclyf actually feels the question has merit. “Perhaps the spaceship is here for more than advertised reasons? We have our orders, and will find out soon enough.”
Peter, with a new pipe in hand, sits with his legs crossed, and nods his head in agreement. The other three know their tasks. Henry will prepare an array of non-lethal weapons. Paul will check the vehicles, while Jim will scout the immediate area more thoroughly while collecting bus and train timetables. With nothing else to add, the group heads out to complete their assigned duties.
The day’s training is a repeat of the last session for Radclyf, in that he can barely understand the medical jargon and terminologies used. He turns on his concealed voice recorder, to capture as much of the session as he can.
Peter has little trouble locating which hospital the doctors are from, and follows them discretely. He does, however, have a slightly more difficult time finding the facility that is being used for analysis and testing. Peter stumbles upon a group of doctors roaming about the hospital excitedly discussing the aliens’ medical knowledge. The talkative doctors end up in a small cafeteria, where they continue to talk openly about some upcoming experiments. Peter is eavesdropping, seated at a neighboring booth. Drinking a black tea as he
reads an English newspaper, he relaxes with his unlit pipe resting nearby. As the last rays of the setting sun vanish, Peter’s patience is rewarded beyond all measure.
One of the doctors stands, and says in French, “Well, see you at the Pasteur in an hour.”
The remaining doctors also make their way out the door a few moments later. Peter orders a fresh cup of black tea, which he drinks slowly as he reads more news articles. Finally, he rises from his chair. With paper and pipe in hand he pays his bill, and then leaves. Stopping outside, Peter lights his pipe while surreptitiously scanning the area. He takes a meandering route back to the Hotel Cecilia.
Radclyf's team meets again that night with Peter. With a small nod from Radclyf, Peter relays the day's events. “The French are using multiple teams; one gathers research material, and another that conducts testing. There are tests ongoing as we speak, at the Pasteur. I feel that if we are to glean as much information as possible, we should let tonight's tests conclude prior to our data gathering exercise. The doctors were talking quite openly, too openly, in my opinion.”
“A trap perhaps? Or merely a deflection?” Radclyf wonders aloud. “Well, let's go and find out.”
Peter is again armed with an abundance of information that the team puts to good use.
The now five-man team once again finds themselves stalking the shadows of the night. They stealthily head for a very special medical facility. With two vans parked in different locations, the team approaches the collection of buildings with great caution. Making their way into the compound and getting to the laboratory building is far too easy, thinks Radclyf. With a single hand gesture, he halts the team. They wait, crouched in the shadows, looking and listening. The minutes pass one after another, and still Radclyf has made no move to indicate the team should continue. Finally, just as Radclyf raises his hand to signal them, a single stifled cough can be heard, along with footsteps. Whoever it is, is close, too close. Smoke from a cigarette wafts by the team as the newcomer walks toward them. The offending doctor takes a few more steps and coughs again as he throws his cigarette down. He is close enough that Radclyf can almost discern his name on a dangling ID tag. Stubbing out the cigarette with his foot, he enters the very building the team is planning to enter. Infrared glasses reveal no one else in the area. Radclyf makes a quick decision; he wants that doctor’s ID.
The team moves fast. Entering the building, the doctor turns to look back. At twenty paces, he is brought down by a tranquilizer dart. A spilt second later, an alarm sounds, and the team runs in. Grabbing the fallen doctor’s ID, they run past the front desk and head for the stairwell. Paul and Jim head up stairs, while Peter and Radclyf head down. They neutralize cameras with spray paint as they go.
The remaining member of the team, Henry, walks the level they entered, quickly neutralizing every camera he can find. The building is so small that the task takes him little time. Henry arrives back at the stairwell just in time to see two security guards enter the building. One checks on the fallen doctor, while the other, with his gun drawn, looks around fearfully. The guard spots Henry as he lines up a shot and fires. Thwack. The guard hits the ground hard, followed immediately by his colleague. The plan is not to kill anyone, but the risk of death from these super fast acting darts is still there.
Paul and Jim make it to the uppermost floor as Peter and Radclyf come to a metallic door. The doctor’s identification, with its bar code, allows for easy access. Meanwhile, Peter is as steady as a rock on the main level while he awaits another incursion through the front door. The guard’s shot, having missed its mark by a large margin, still adds another element of danger to the occasion.
Off in the distance, a siren can be heard, and is soon joined by more, until a chorus can be heard heading toward them. The team is not too concerned with this unexpected turn of events. Paul starts the task of hurling tear gas canisters out the top floor windows, while Jim makes sure they are alone upstairs. A man chokes and coughs his way inside, only to be taken out by another tranquilizer dart. His lab coat falls open revealing an assault rifle. Downstairs, all hell is about to break loose.
Radclyf and Peter step inside to see a dozen doctors all standing at desks with microscopes, computer terminals, and more. The nearest doctor flings open his coat as he raises a weapon. The assault rifle spits out a lethal barrage that falls just short of both men. He collapses as the contents of the dart protruding from his neck take effect. With eleven men, all possibly armed with automatic weapons, going against two men armed only with tranquilizer darts, the battle seems to be quite one-sided. Donning small masks, they dive behind what little cover there is, and both men unleash a volley of canisters into the room. Bullets fly, but it seems the men in the room are as concerned about the equipment as they are about hitting each other. Every shot is high, and misses both men completely.
The close confines allow Peter to bring down another man with a dart. Radclyf dives away from him, drawing fire. Peter silently downs another, as Radclyf plays the dangerous part of being the bait. A bullet grazes his vest as he rolls away, just in time. The assailant goes down, his finger relaxing from the trigger as he falls. A well-placed dart protrudes from his neck as well.
The tear gas begins to have its desired effect. It forces the remaining defenders to grab face masks, and allows the two men a precious respite. Radclyf jumps up and fires darts at two men near him, striking both.
Peter, still laying down, peers through the fogging air, and bags three more in the process. He smiles at the fact that the odds look a lot better now.
Radclyf dives to the ground and rolls to hide in the barest of shadows in the tear gas mist. His reflexes save his life, as the wall behind him disintegrates under the combined attack of all four remaining men. As he skids to a stop, he finds himself staring straight up at a man armed with a rifle. Radclyf lifts his dart gun as the man above swings his barrel down. Three men fire weapons almost simultaneously. The gun blast is deafening this close, but it swings up and wild, as the shooter goes down. Two darts protrude from the man's neck. Radclyf, still on his back nails one more with his dart gun, as does Peter.
“Drop it.” Orders the last of the armed doctors.
Peter feels the barrel of a gun pressing into his back. At this range, the armor in his vest will be useless. The one man they both somehow missed, stands with his gun firmly planted against Peter’s back. Peter lets his dart gun fall to the ground. Radclyf dares a glance around the room that is slowly clearing of smoke. Having reviewed his options, he lets the dart gun fall from his hand as his shoulders sag in defeat. Very slowly, he raises his hands with his palms exposed as he steps forward, and lowers his head. The armed man makes one small mistake. He uses his weapon to wave the two men toward the back of the room. With the gun away from Peter’s back for just one second, Peter drops to the ground while Radclyf dives forward. He crash-tackles the armed man while Peter retrieves his dart gun. Bullets fly again as the armed man falls backward with Radclyf.
The view from the rooftop is fast becoming a spectacle unto itself as a multitude of police cars converge on this once-quiet research facility. A few spotlights shine on the building, but with the number of able bodied first responders decreasing, the police are reluctant to enter. No less than eighteen of their people now lay unconscious on the floor between the door and the stairwell. The corridor is littered with shell casings; some entered with weapons blazing. Jim and Paul, having done all they can, return to the main level to assist an overwhelmed Henry.
Peter and Radclyf look at the back of the room and wonder why the man wanted them back there. The two disarm and bind the unconscious men, then search the room. Just as they are about to give up, they find it. Cautiously opening the well-concealed floor panel, they are met with a blast of dank, cold air from below. An ancient looking stone well descends about thirty feet. Equally ancient looking iron rungs protrude from the round walls, allowing access. An oddity about this well is the faint light that shines from below. Radcly
f and Peter look at each other, and then cautiously enter.
The well bottom opens, to reveal passageways in two directions. Light shines from one, and the other disappears into darkness. Following the lit passageway, the two men come across a very modern looking doorway. It opens easily to reveal a small room with a glass window across from them. Through this window a flurry of activity can be seen. Dozens of people in hazmat suits work over several bodies on tables. It is not possible to tell if the individuals on these tables are alive. Some have IV tubes attached, and others do not. The suited people are able to enter and leave via doors on the far side, leaving this side as purely an observation post.
Keeping away from the window, Peter heads to the only computer in the room. While Peter works on the computer, Radclyf heads back to explore the other direction of the old well bottom.
Ten minutes later, the French send in an armored car. It smashes the doorway down, and skids to a stop, almost running over the people lying on the ground. Riot police storm the building in force. Through the metal doorway, they find more unconscious people, but not the access downward. Hours of debriefing go by, but still they are none the wiser about who the attackers were, or where they went.
The morning news carries a wild story of a suicide attempt by a disturbed doctor. Though he was heavily armed, there were, thankfully, no casualties. Radclyf and Peter watch the news with interest as they consider their lucky escape. For whatever reason, neither side of the underground passageway was guarded. The other route led to an old wooden door that was padlocked on the inside. After easily breaking through the lock, the door opened to reveal a network of tunnels, known as the catacombs of Paris, on the other side.
Peter looks up at Radclyf, and, as he grins, says, “I know why we survived and I believe I know why the facility was set up the way it was. The twelve men in that room were all military medics. They were secretly observing the civilian testing, while conducting their own basic research.”
Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles) Page 13