Abductors Conspiracy

by Frakes, Jonathan

  "I suppose not, sir," Alan said.

  "I'm going to tell them about the fact that a few hydrogen bombs were found in our cities, as well as other cities around the world. I'm not going to tell them how many. And I'm going to tell them the FBI and CIA are dealing with the problem as a terrorist problem, which, in truth, it is."

  "And when they ask who's behind it?"

  "I'm going to tell them a half-truth," John said. "I'm going to tell them we don't have enough information yet to be exactly sure. And then I'm going to stress the reasons we have to keep this out of the press."

  "Sounds logical," Alan said. "I'm with you all the way."

  "Thanks," John said. And Alan could tell he really meant it.

  "Any news from Oregon?"

  Alan shook his head. "They're in the air, headed for the location."

  The president nodded. "So, as always, we wait."

  "There is one thing Neda mentioned to me that we might need to deal with if they find a Klar ship where they're heading."

  "And what's that?" John said, stopping short from opening his office door.

  "They think they may know where three other ships might be."

  "I figured they'd get that far," he said. "We'll deal with those possibilities after they see if they're right. Now, let's go put on a show for the Joint Chiefs."

  "Right behind you, sir," Alan said, holding the door open.

  "Someday, Alan," John said, "you might find yourself in this office, with people using that phrase with you. And you'll learn to hate it just as much as I do."

  Alan grinned at the president. "Understood and noted, sir."

  "Good," John said, chuckling. "Now walk beside me."

  Chapter Forty-Two

  You need brains in this life of crime, but I often think you need luck even more.

  —LESLIE CHARTERIS

  FROM THE SAINT IN "THE DAMSEL IN DISTRESS"

  4:25 P.M. JUNE 26.

  EASTERN OREGON

  The roar of the army attack helicopter was much more than a sound. It vibrated up through McCallum's body until it almost became part of him. With Henry and Neda Foster, he sat on the back bench seat on the right side. A young man in combat fatigues sat facing McCallum, checking over the machine gun mounted in the door. General Hoffman had the copilot's seat and a kid named Ron, who didn't look as though he could be much out of high school, flew the thing.

  All of them had on headsets, with headphones that deadened the roar of the engines while allowing them to talk. But army helicopters were not made for comfort on any distance flight, so after the first few minutes the conversation had died down as they all just worked to survive the flight.

  The plan they'd come up with back in Bellingham was simple. Fly high from Bellingham to a point near LaGrande, Oregon. Then drop down on the surface and go in fast. The big Sheepeater Cave was on the western face of the canyon, so they'd come in fast from the west over the desert, drop in over the mouth of the cave, and have the three attack helicopters take up positions over the far edge of the canyon with the command chopper above and behind them.

  The worst part of the planning had come when the general asked Neda what kind of weapons they could expect in return and she said she didn't know. She said that, to her knowledge, the Klar had never fired a shot on Earth. At that point McCallum thought the general was going to call off the mission, Presidential order or not. And McCallum honestly couldn't blame the guy.

  Far below them, the Columbia River cut a wide, blue path through the desert as the helicopter started a steep dive following the three others in formation ahead. "Almost there now," the general said. "Red Bluff One: Report."

  McCallum could hear the voices of the other chopper pilots reporting status to the general as the four helicopters leveled out over desert sagebrush and skimmed along the surface at what seemed to be an extremely fast rate. McCallum had no way of judging and really didn't want to know how fast they were skimming over the rocks.

  "Be ready for anything," the general said to his chopper crews. "You see a big, black ship of any configuration in that cave you are ordered to engage. We take it down and ask questions later. Understand?"

  "Red Bluff One. Yes, sir."

  "Red Bluff Two. Yes, sir."

  "Red Bluff Three. Yes, sir."

  "Good luck," the general said. He turned slightly and gave the three in the back seat a thumbs-up.

  "McCallum," Henry said, "if we live though this I'm going to kill you."

  McCallum patted Henry's leg and didn't answer. Both of them had seen plenty of action over the years. They'd gone through a lot of doors together. And been in their share of fights. But neither of them had military experience. And this was much, much closer than McCallum had ever wanted to get to combat, especially sitting in the back seat.

  On the other side of Henry, Neda Foster's eyes seemed to be glazed over and she was continually licking her lips as she stared out the side door at the desert rushing past a few feet below. McCallum had no idea what she was thinking or feeling.

  "Now!" the general shouted.

  In a clearly practiced move, the young pilot took the helicopter up into a high arc. Below them a large rock canyon appeared in the desert floor.

  Ron finished the arc upward and took the chopper around into a hard bank that slammed McCallum against the door.

  "Someone needs to fix this rollercoaster," Henry said.

  Ron brought the chopper to a sudden stop and tipped the nose of the chopper down at the canyon.

  Over the general's shoulder McCallum could see a huge opening in the side of the rock-walled canyon. It looked like a lava cave. A small stream wound through the bottom of the canyon, surrounded by green brush and small trees. There was a dirt trail leading up to the cave mouth, but no other sign of occupation.

  He could see no Klar ship.

  The other three helicopters were stationed over the canyon rim across from the cave, all guns aimed at the hole.

  Nothing happened.

  They all waited. McCallum realized he was holding his breath.

  Nothing.

  McCallum forced himself to breathe.

  "Red Bluff One. See anything in there?" the general demanded.

  "Yes, I think so, sir. A large black shape back in the shadows. But there's no telling what it is."

  "If it moves, take it out," the general said.

  "Don't wait," both McCallum and Neda Foster shouted at the same moment, but it was too late.

  An intense white beam shot out of the mouth of the cave, catching the center helicopter below them.

  The pilot tried to pull away, but in less than a second the chopper exploded in a ball of orange flame.

  "Fire!" the general yelled.

  Instantly, missiles fired from the other two, smashing into the black shape as it started out of the cave.

  McCallum watched as if the entire thing was in slow motion.

  The ball of orange flame was still in the air where Red Bluff One had been. There didn't seem to be anything left at all of the helicopter or its crew.

  Four missiles hit the emerging black shape almost instantly, sending a blast wave outward that rocked their helicopter, but Ron rode the blast like a pro cowboy, keeping the cave below them and in clear sight.

  The black shape continued to come out of the cave like a huge monster coming out of its hole. The missiles from the helicopters hadn't seemed to slow it down at all, just as McCallum's antitank missiles hadn't.

  "Keep firing!" the general shouted, but he didn't need to. The other pilots were pulling back and continuing to fire. Two more missiles scored direct hits and the black thing seemed to disappear for a moment in a cloud of smoke and flame.

  Then it was still there, almost out of the cave.

  Still coming.

  The thing was huge. Far larger than it seemed at night.

  "Ron!" the general said to his pilot. "Fire half."

  McCallum could feel the bumps of four rockets leaving the helicop
ter as Ron emptied half the helicopter's eight missiles at the Klar ship.

  Four streaks of smoke like strings connected their helicopter and a huge explosion below. All four missiles seemed to hit the black monster as one.

  Yet somehow it still seemed to be coming up and out.

  McCallum could see damage on the Klar ship. Where once had been patterns of black and gray diamonds were scorch marks and dented hull. The missiles were clearly striking a hull, not some sort of force field.

  The huge round Klar ship finally cleared the mouth of the cave and began to move upward, filling the canyon below it with a black shadow.

  Four more missiles pounded it, knocking it back against the rocks.

  It seemed to roll along the rock cliff face like a tire over a bumpy road. Then it lifted away slowly.

  "Hit it with everything!" the general shouted.

  Missiles streaked from the three choppers, including four more from theirs.

  McCallum watched in amazement as the black ship lifted a short distance through the huge explosion.

  It wasn't going to work.

  They weren't going to be able to stop it.

  Then the black hovering shape that floated over the desert like a big, dark rain cloud just seemed to come apart in the air.

  A huge explosion of blue-and-white flame rolled out of the sky.

  Then the big black ship simply ceased to be.

  The shock wave from the explosion sent their chopper spinning backward and it took Ron a few long seconds to get it back under control. But he managed before they were pasted all over the rocks and sagebrush.

  "Too close," Henry said.

  McCallum was too busy trying to catch his breath to say anything in return.

  As Ron stabilized the helicopter and turned it back toward the scene below, McCallum was amazed at the scene.

  The desert was on fire.

  Fire everywhere. Within a half mile, every stick, every sagebrush, every tree in the canyon, was burning with a bright orange flame, still too hot to even start sending smoke into the air.

  Both the other helicopters had managed to stay up.

  And there was absolutely no sign of the Klar ship.

  Nothing but a burning desert.

  And the wreckage of Red Bluff One.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Death is an incurable disease that men and women are born with; it gets them sooner or later.

  ——FREDRIC BROWN

  FROM THE SCREAMING MIMI

  4:32 p.m. JUNE 26.

  SHEEPEATER CAVES,

  EASTERN OREGON

  The roar overhead brought Tina up out of her nightmare.

  The air in the cave felt as though it was pouring out of an oven, thick and hot, almost too hot to breathe. Her muscles ached and her head spun. As the roaring sound grew so that it filled the room, then passed beyond, she tried to sit up, but without luck. She was just too worn out, hungry, and thirsty to even move.

  "What—" Cobb said beside her. But he didn't move either.

  Around her nothing but the flies moved in the thick, dead air.

  The rumbling seemed to hold steady for a short time.

  Then an explosion shook the cave.

  Dirt from above dropped onto her chest and arms and she somehow forced herself to sit up. Beside her, Cobb was working to push himself up on a rock.

  Then everything went completely insane.

  It was as if the entire earth was moving, exploding, shaking around her.

  The ground seemed to heave under them, tossing her into the air and down hard on the dirt.

  Cobb was tossed hard against the rock wall, and Tina watched as his eyes closed and he slumped to the ground.

  Rocks smashed to the ground from above, opening the crack in the ceiling into an oblong hole of bright sunshine cutting through air filled with dust.

  Again the ground and air seemed to explode around her.

  She was flipped over backward and she could feel her right arm snap against a sharp boulder. The pain sent her head swirling, but somehow she was already so detached from her body that the broken arm didn't knock her out.

  Another part of the ceiling came down, just missing her, but covering her in a thick layer of dirt and small pebbles. She quickly crawled over against the wall near Cobb.

  Then the nightmare around her changed.

  The room and time itself seemed to stand still as a bright blue-and-white flash lit every inch of the cave. She could see every body, every broken human, every rock in the cave.

  And the heat increased.

  Suddenly.

  Intensely.

  Two bodies right below the opening in the roof seemed to jerk, then their skin started to bubble and boil as if they were lying under a child's magnifying glass on a summer day.

  Tina managed to drop behind a boulder as the smell of cooking human flesh filled the air.

  Cobb moaned and before she passed out she managed to pull him down close to her under the shelter of the boulder.

  Chapter Fourty-Four

  No stupid man ever suspected himself of being anything but clever.

  ——THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH

  FROM THE STILLWATER TRAGEDY

  4:4 1 P.M. JUNE 26.

  SHEEPEATER CAVES,

  EASTERN OREGON

  "Put us down," General Hoffman said to Ron. "In front of the cave. Red Bluff Two, take a position on top of the west wall overlooking the cave and scout that area. Red Bluff Three, stay in position above the east wall of the canyon. We're going to secure the cave."

  The pilots moved like a well-oiled team, reacting to the general's orders.

  McCallum managed to make himself take a deep breath of hot air as he studied the burning below him. The heat had been so intense from the alien craft's disintegration that almost everything combustible on the ground burst into flames instantly and was consumed within moments. Now thousands of small plumes of smoke drifted up into the hot air, forming a cloud of gray smoke that the blades of the helicopters stirred around as if they were stirring cream in hot tea.

  There was no sign that an alien ship had ever been there. Nothing, not one little piece seemed to be left.

  "You all right?" McCallum asked, forcing himself to turn away from the sight to look at Henry. His partner's face was pure white and he seemed to be panting slightly, but he nodded.

  "Neda?" McCallum asked.

  She turned away from the window to look at him. There was a light in her eyes. A bright light of excitement. "They're beatable," she said. "We've taken out one of their ships. I can't believe it happened. It did happen, didn't it?"

  McCallum smiled. "Yeah, it happened."

  Neda nodded to herself. "Good. One down and nineteen to go."

  "I like the way she puts things," Henry said, shaking his head in disgust.

  "Billy, get that door open and be ready," General Hoffman ordered.

  "Yes, sir," the kid in front of McCallum said. He slid open the big side door on the chopper, pulled back the crank on the huge machine gun and swung it out the door. He quickly aimed it at the mouth of the cave below.

  Ron was taking the helicopter down below the rim of the canyon. He was holding McCallum and Billy's side of the helicopter facing the huge opening, covering it with Billy's gun.

  McCallum felt as though he was sitting in an open elevator dropping down into hell as the wind and heat swirled around him through the door. He could see the piles of rocks in the mouth of the cave, brought down by the explosions. The entire mouth of the cave looked as if someone had had a huge fire and blackened every rock with soot.

  McCallum was sure that hell itself probably didn't look this bad, nor was it this hot.

  "McCallum. Detective. Miss Foster," General Hoffman barked. "Get those belts and headphones off. Billy, arm them all. And get me one, too. We're going in, people. Miss Foster, since you're the farthest from the door I want you on the ground last and watching behind us. I want you following about twenty yards b
ack to take out anything that pops up after we've gone past. Understand?"

  "Yes, sir," she said.

  McCallum unbuckled his seat belt and pulled off his headphones. The rumbling roar of the helicopter suddenly increased to a deafening, intense noise. Bobby handed him an AK-47 and an extra clip, then gave him the thumbs up.

  McCallum made sure the gun was pointed out the side door of the chopper, then checked it. Loaded and ready to roll. He'd fired an AK-47 once at the police training range. The thing could spit out a stream of lead. And could hit what it was aimed at. One very nasty weapon in the wrong hands.

  "Ready," Henry yelled over the sound of the motor, slapping his rifle.

  Neda Foster gave a thumbs-up also.

  McCallum answered with one of his own.

  The helicopter set down with a hard bump in a blinding swirl of dirt, dust, and smoke that choked McCallum and filled his eyes with soot. How the hell was he supposed to see in this?

  The general bailed out of the front door of the chopper and went right into the dust and smoke, up the slight incline toward the cave mouth.

  McCallum moved almost at the same time and went to the left, stumbling in the blinding dust and smoke, but managing to keep the gun up in front of him and a clear picture of those Klar statues in his mind. If he saw one of those monsters coming at him through the dust he was going to shoot first and say hello later.

  After ten yards the dust stirred by the helicopter blades cleared and the rest of the way to the mouth of the cave became clear.

  McCallum could see Henry off his right shoulder, between him and the general. They all found shelter behind boulders near the mouth of the cave in the sun and paused.

  McCallum could feel the intense heat radiating from the rock he was behind. And the entire place smelled a little like the room in Portland had smelled: death combined with melted plastic.

  Henry touched the rock he was behind, then pulled his hand away as if he was burned.

  This had to be the hottest place on the planet, without a doubt.

  Neda took up a position about ten yards behind them, facing slightly back toward the chopper, but in such a way that she could see anything behind the men. McCallum felt secure with her in that position.