The Roswell Protocols

by Allan Burd

  9

  OTTAWA

  Major Gaines glanced up sharply as his secretary’s voice spoke through the intercom. “Admiral Brock and Commander Smythe to see you, sir.”

  “Thank you,” Gaines replied politely. He pushed the button disconnecting her then stood up from his chair to await their arrival.

  The two men entered his small, modestly decorated office, nodding their hellos. Brock was momentarily caught off guard by the room’s most notable adornment, a stuffed moose head mounted on the left wall.

  “Looking much better, Dave,” commented Smythe.

  Before he looked over all the data, David had taken the Admiral’s advice and showered. He was now in the full dress uniform befitting an officer of his rank.

  “What have you discovered so far, Major?” asked Brock, getting straight to the point. There was a chair for him in front of the desk but he remained standing.

  So did David. “Quite a lot, sir. For starters, the object was definitely a spacecraft of unearthly origins.” He looked straight at his commanding officers expecting some form of disapproval or at least astonishment. However, if they were surprised in the least bit, neither one showed it.

  David grabbed a pile of photographs off his messy desk and walked around to the other side where Smythe and Brock stood. “I listened to the recording again then went over the pilots’ personnel files. I even called them. Both pilots are highly competent and I fully believe they saw what they saw. Then I replayed the videotape from the gun cameras. It looks just as the pilots described—a metallic object reflecting the sun. So I brought the tape down to the lab for further analysis. They froze the frames and zoomed in close enough to get me these.” He spread the pile of enlarged images on his desk in front of his superiors, clearing away some papers as he did so. They showed the silhouette of a metallic disc-shaped craft stark against the sun’s light. “Because of the brightness of the sun it was impossible to get better detail but I think these pictures are clear enough.”

  Admiral Brock picked up the photos, studying them a moment through squinted old eyes, then nodding his approval before handing them to Smythe.

  “Nice … very nice,” commented Commander Smythe, also with an approving nod.

  “I called all the bases in the country and asked them to notify me if they spot anything unusual. I got a call back from the boys in BC. They tell me they’re getting calls from the Prince Rupert police department concerning complaints about a sonic boom. They apologized to the police, but tell me they didn’t have any flights over the area at that time. The funny thing is these complaints came in only seconds after the object disappeared from the radar. I don’t think that’s a coincidence,” said David.

  Brock looked at the maps plastered on the wall, particularly focusing in on the one of Canada. He mentally traced a line between Ellesmere and Prince Rupert. “How does a ship disappear on radar over Eastern Canada and suddenly create a sonic boom a few seconds later on the other side of the country?” he inquired.

  “I’m not sure yet,” said David.

  “For all we know there could be a second spaceship,” Smythe suggested.

  “I don’t think so,” answered Gaines firmly. “I believe the sonic boom heard was probably our ship dropping below Mach one. I have no proof, but I believe they landed somewhere in the mountains. When I spoke to the pilots, I arranged for them to fly in and do crisscross patterns over the area. I figure these men deserve to see this one through. Besides, they already know about the craft and the fewer the people who know about this, the better off we are. I also placed a call to Professor Le Buc. I believe he’ll be able to assist us. When he arrives, we’re leaving with a team of twenty men. Rebecca will be with us too. We’ll rendezvous in Port Simpson. When we get a definite location, we’ll fly into the mountains by helicopter and have a look. Just one thing. I’ll need someone here to arrange the extraction.”

  “That’s already in the works,” said Smythe.

  “Good,” commented Admiral Brock, impressed with the quick preparation of the op. He looked at the moose head again, and then looked back to Smythe with raised eyebrows before turning his focus back to David. “Keep us posted on your progress.”

  “Will do sir,” replied David. Both men turned and exited the room, Smythe holding the door for the Admiral as they left. David restacked the photos. Before placing them in a box he became transfixed on the image. With a little luck, he thought, I’ll get to see the real thing before this day is done.

  10

  PACIFIC OCEAN

  The radar screen showed nothing.

  The man sitting in front of the consoles adjusted the knobs, increasing and decreasing frequencies, but still nothing appeared on any of the screens. The officer next to him watched the screen linked to satellite surveillance. Nothing appeared there either. The Senior Watch Officer stood over them trying to assist their efforts. Their targets were out there somewhere within range of their ship’s radar. They just couldn’t find them.

  Takashi Tanaku, Captain of the aircraft carrier named Tsunami, paced the bridge watching their frenzied movements from a few feet behind them, a wry grin on his face. He was a powerful man. The ship he commanded was so massive it measured over 1000 feet in length and displaced over 95,000 tons of water as it plowed through the North Pacific Ocean. He was in charge of the seventy-three aircraft on board, as well the ship’s powerful built-in armaments. Also under his control was a tracking and detection system so technologically advanced it contained the newest phased array radar detecting equipment plus link-ups with various satellites so it could see the enemy coming under any weather conditions. However, despite all that, the Ninjas were still avoiding any detection, and that meant his initial field test was proving to be a success.

  “Find them!” Tanaku barked in an angry tone. “The enemy is out there and he is making you look like incompetent fools,” he shouted. Even though he didn’t expect them to succeed, he had to push them harder. Just the way an enemy’s Captain would push his men if the Ninjas were ever used in real combat.

  The SWO, Hirigashi, grabbed the radio from his belt and spoke to the spotter on the upper mast. “Do you see them?” he snarled, peeking up to see the Captain’s disapproving stare. It was 1:00 A.M. in this area of the Pacific Ocean. The sky was almost pitch black and the spotty cloud cover blotted out most of the starlight. The radio crackled and a curt no was the reply given. “Keep looking,” the SWO snarled again.

  Captain Tanaku walked hastily over to the radar operator, peering over his shoulder. He startled him with his loud booming voice. “You are an embarrassment. Gaijin is hovering all around us and you can detect nothing,” he screamed. They all knew it wasn’t really the enemy out there, but for the purposes of the test it was important that they act like it. “We will be destroyed in moments because you fail.”

  His “motivational” speech panicked the radar operator, who now moved faster than before. The other two officers quickened their pace, not wanting to be the next victims of Tanaku’s wrath. The radar officer turned a knob, realigning the angle of the constantly rotating antenna, hoping to achieve a solid bounce. Still unsuccessful, the SWO leaned over and altered the frequency to extremely low frequency radio waves hoping to bounce a signal off the water that would reflect back and give away the Ninjas’ position. All the while, the thin line continued to sweep the round display in silence.

  Captain Tanaku turned his attention to Yakui Hanidu, the officer monitoring satellite transmissions. For purposes of this test, General Yamakazi authorized a satellite containing a synthetic aperture radar system and infrared camera to detect heat emissions from missiles, aircraft, and vehicles, to hold a synchronous orbit over their position. The reflected radar waves were quickly analyzed by the satellites onboard equipment then relayed directly to the screen on the console. The same held true for the images taken by the infrared camera.

  “Yakui.”

  Yakui remained calm and professional. He turned to T
anaku to give him a status report. “Negative, Captain. The radar I can understand, but the infrared scanners should be detecting something off the cold backdrop of the ocean.”

  “Hai,” acknowledged the Captain, pleasure becoming more apparent on his face despite the fact his crew was failing. The Ninjas were functioning perfectly. His ship housed the most advanced tracking systems available and the Ninjas had evaded them all.

  “There. We got one, Captain!” the SWO reported excitedly, pointing to the blip on the radar screen. A second later, loud beeping sounds pierced their ears, indicating the Ninja successfully locked its weapon systems on them. The test was over, the Ninja had won. An instant later the satellite’s radar relayed the Ninjas position to the other screen.

  Captain Tanaku peered over to the once overzealous SWO who now bowed his head in defeat, and Tanaku smiled. “Excellent. It was completely undetected until the moment it chose to strike,” he said.

  “It was also able to hit us before the satellite even detected its presence,” the officer monitoring the satellite transmission added.

  Another blip appeared on the radar screen indicating the second Ninja was on the opposite side of the ship. An instant later a second series of loud penetrating beeps echoed through the metal walled bridge adding insult to injury. Both Ninjas successfully completed their missions. Upon hearing the sounds, the radar operator removed his headphones and slammed them down on the console, catching Tanaku’s attention.

  Tanaku briskly walked over to him. “Sit down and be silent! Childish outbursts will not be tolerated on my bridge.” The officer quickly took his seat, bowed his head, and apologized profusely.

  Tanaku calmed. “I see you don’t like to lose. Good.” The beeping stopped. He looked over to Hirigashi. “The test is over. Call the pilots in. I will personally congratulate them upon their arrival.”

  Hirigashi saluted and bowed his head quickly. “Hai,” he said with an abrupt low grunt.

  Captain Tanaku nodded curtly and then left the bridge listening to Hirigashi carrying out his orders. He stepped slowly down the four flights of steps that led to the main deck, wondering what this technological advancement would mean to the Japanese military. Not much, he thought. The Ninjas will probably mean more to our economy. Our government will probably decide to mass produce them and sell them to our allies at a tidy profit. That was a good thing. Though he truly enjoyed emerging victorious in combat, war was not something he desired.

  Tanaku reached the seven-inch steel door that led to the deck and opened it. The cold shrieking night wind reminded him to put a jacket on. He reached over to the hook on the wall and grabbed a coat. He put it on and trudged out onto the damp metal deck, making his way towards the helipad. He looked up, holding his cap on his head so the wind wouldn’t blow it off, and watched as Shadow—the first Ninja prototype—descended quietly, its black, sleek design blending in with the darkened sky.

  First Officer Namato came running towards him, his green coat flapping in the wind. With one hand he held his cap. In the other he cradled an envelope close to his chest. “Captain,” he shouted above the roar of the ocean, “emergency action message.”

  Captain Tanaku took the envelope from his hand. He ripped open the flap and handed Namato back the sealed authentication code. He then reached inside his shirt pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper with many codes written on it. He read the correct code from the list. Namato unsealed the code and read it back to the Captain. They matched. Captain Tanaku then double-checked Namato’s authentication code verifying the orders were valid.

  Tanaku pulled the orders out of the envelope and read them. His expression became puzzled. He did not understand why but his mission’s parameters had just drastically changed. He was supposed to be field testing Japan’s newest weapon in air warfare technology—two stealth helicopters code-named Ninjas. However, these new orders told him to move his carrier into the North Pacific just outside Canadian waters, prepare the Ninjas for a real sortie into Canadian air space, and await further instructions. He reread them just to make sure.

  Both Tanaku and Namato became startled and ducked as Whisper, the second prototype, seemingly appeared out of nowhere above their heads. They watched it descend quickly onto the slippery deck. As it touched down next to Shadow, Tanaku wondered what mission he would be preparing them for. The Ninjas were specifically designed for nighttime search and rescue missions and—as his field test just proved—they were very adept at sneak attacks.

  He held the question in his mind and stepped slowly towards the two stealth helicopters. They were incredible machines. Their outer hulls were painted black for maximum camouflage at night. They were slanted in shape to deflect radar and built with a synthetic material imbedded into the metal to absorb the radar waves they couldn’t deflect. The material was also insulated to prevent the heat of the engines from radiating. This had the dual purpose of hiding it from heat seeking missiles and infrared scanners. The rotors were muffled to keep sound to a minimum. Its onboard weaponry consisted of short range missiles and one front-mounted, fully mobile machine gun. During a nighttime sortie, they would be practically invisible, silent, undetectable, and extremely deadly.

  Which purpose would they be used for—search and rescue or sneak attack? Either way Tanaku didn’t like it. His new orders called for no less than preparing his crew to invade Canada and that couldn’t be good. He watched the pilots and gunners as they climbed out of the Ninjas. “Looks like they will have their work cut out for them,” he said to Namato.

  “I do not understand, sir.”

  Tanaku stopped, turned, and handed the orders to Namato. “This will explain everything. Start the ship heading in the direction of this location.” He pointed to the coordinates listed on the page. “Also, tell Korigon and Ono to prepare their men for level four battle drills. Meet me in my quarters in five minutes and we will discuss the rest.”

  “Hai.” Namato bowed quickly, then held onto his cap and jogged inside.

  11

  THE KREMLIN

  Vasha, the petite elderly secretary to General Vaskev, stepped lightly into the room. In her hand she held a one-page report from a field agent indicating the Canadian’s best guess as to the location of the downed extraterrestrial spacecraft. The General nodded. She briskly walked over to him, handed him the report, and then left as quickly as she came.

  Like a mouse stealing the cheese, Nikolai thought.

  Vaskev fumbled for the reading glasses in his shirt pocket. Placing the bifocals loosely in front of his eyes, he scanned the report. When he finished, he handed it to Nikolai, who read it with interest.

  “That’s it?” said Nikolai. “It is not enough information.”

  “Nyet, it is not. We must be patient. It will do us no good to run around like wild geese,” replied Vaskev thoughtfully, as he removed his glasses and placed them back in his pocket. “Our sources are reliable. They will provide us everything we need, in time.”

  “We must have a look at this space vessel. We must be able to study it—determine where it came from and how it got here. Think what we could do with that kind of technology,” ikolai said excitedly.

  “Think of what our enemies could do with the technology if we don’t get it,” Vaskev pointed out. “We must possess it or destroy it. It can be no other way.”

  “We must know exactly where it is,” insisted Nikolai.

  “Yes, we must. We need to be ready to act swiftly once our agent discovers its exact location.”

  Nikolai paced, his patience waning. It had been almost an hour and they still didn’t have the information they craved. “We should not be forced to rely on our spies for something like this. What if they fail? In the old days, our military satellites would be searching the globe as we speak.”

  Vaskev nodded. For all the flaws in communism, when it came to the military, the old ways had definite advantages. For now, all they could do was wait. “Be patient, friend Nikolai.” He walked over to the t
ea station and poured two more cups of hot water. In them he placed a sterling silver tea ball each containing one bag of tea. The leaves dissolved and oozed out of the pores turning the clear liquid dark. He handed Nikolai the cup, which stopped his pacing. “The answers we seek will come soon enough.”

  12

  PALO ALTO, CALIFORNIA

  Two sinewy men, both attired in dull neutral-colored suits, greeted Logan at his doorway. Based on their size, demeanor, and short haircuts, Logan immediately sized them up as military. As one man bent down to pick up Logan’s suitcase, his jacket opened slightly, revealing a revolver.

  “This way, Mr. Grey,” the man instructed firmly but politely.

  “Er … sure,” Logan stammered, no longer doubting the seriousness of the situation. One man tossed his suitcase into the trunk, the other opened the door for him. Logan nodded and slid inside the limo onto a comfortable leather seat. Inside were two more men; the driver and another similarly dressed man. A soundproof glass panel separated them. The two men who had escorted Logan joined them in the rear portion of the vehicle and they sped off.

  “Where are we going?” inquired Logan.

  “You’ll know when we get there,” replied the third man sternly, making Logan feel very uneasy. He leaned back in the cushioned seat and sighed. There was nothing he could do but go along for the ride.

  A few minutes later he noticed the driver peer into the rear view mirror and nod to one of the men next to him. That man in turn nodded to the third man. Logan sat up nervously and suspiciously, wondering what was going to happen. The third man reached inside his coat while gazing straight at Logan. He pulled out a key then reached down toward the door. Using the key, he unlocked a secret compartment built into the side panel of the door and pulled out a briefcase. “This is for your eyes only, Mr. Grey. Read it now. When you arrive, they’ll expect you to be fully briefed on the scenario.” He handed Logan the briefcase.