The Roswell Protocols

by Allan Burd

  Unlike the Professor, however, Major Gaines was not convinced that his men started it, but he did understand how he was feeling. Le Buc was brought along to communicate and learn, not maim and destroy. It reminded him of a saying he heard way back when he first enlisted in the service. Join the army. Meet interesting people from exotic locations around the world … and kill them. He never found that to be less funny than now.

  “My apologies, Professor. Stay against this tree. I’ll do what I can to see that I get you out of here alive.”

  Gaines shot out from behind the tree only to see Bell blown to pieces. Whatever happened to start this insane conflict didn’t matter. He was responsible for his men and he would avenge them. Firing a full clip from his automatic rifle, he shredded the dark haired, hideous looking gray alien who had just killed Bell.

  All weapons fire ceased. The forest quieted. It only made Trask more nervous. He looked around and saw Rivera signaling to him. Two fingers pointed up then one pointed high, then two in a circle. It meant Rivera spotted two of the enemy—one high in the tree and one circling around behind him. Trask’s job was to go after the enemy circling behind.

  Rivera hid behind a huge misshapen boulder and focused his scope high in the tree. It would be a difficult shot but one he was well capable of making. “Stay still and you’re mine. Stay still and you’re mine,” he repeated to himself, as his index finger tensed on the trigger. But the alien wouldn’t cooperate. Its body would continually disappear behind a limb or a tree, denying Rivera a clean shot. He would have to be a little more patient.

  Trask held his weapon steady as he moved to cover Rivera’s back. Even though he hadn’t spotted the enemy yet, he knew if Rivera said the enemy was circling around then the enemy would be here. He just had to find it before it found him.

  There. Trask spotted the dark blue warrior a moment before it saw him. Without hesitation, he fired. A piercing shriek followed the short burst of rapid gunfire as the alien stumbled back, dropping a dark object from its hand. However, it did not fall. Quickly, it dove away behind a large rock and was gone.

  “Damn you, Trask. Damn you,” he whispered to himself. He had his advantage and lost it. “Keep calm, you still got a piece of him.” He moved in cautiously to see what was dropped. On the ground, slightly buried in the soft snow from the impact of the drop, was a coppery, metallic, circular object about the size of a hockey puck. Trask bent down to pick it up. Even through his gloves he felt the warmth.

  This must be its weapon, he thought to himself. Studying it he noticed an oddly shaped indent on the top, going from the side into the middle, surrounded by a perfectly symmetrical seam. Just in front of that was what appeared to be a liquid crystal display but wasn’t. A blue light covered three quarters of the display. The remaining quarter was black. On the side was an opening about an inch wide and half an inch tall, which Trask presumed allowed the energy to discharge. He looked at the underside and saw nothing special, but the shape resembled a donut. Odd, he thought. No apparent triggering mechanism.

  The mystery would have to wait as the alien leapt at Trask so quickly from the side he barely had time to react. Before he could fire another round, a cold wet foot knocked the gun from his grasp. In a blur of motion the alien pirouetted around as a blade sprang from its metallic wristband and was thrust into Trask’s arm. He screamed and dropped the alien weapon. If not for his own quickness, the strike would have pierced his heart. But due to the alien’s injuries it was not able to press its momentary advantage.

  The alien dove for its weapon. Trask responded with a kick to its greenish-gray head sending it sprawling backwards. He grabbed the alien’s weapon with his good arm, placed his finger in the indent and pointed it at the alien. He noticed the LCD-type display was now fully blue. The alien quickly scurried back to his feet, spotting the weapon pointed at him. Trask couldn’t be positive but he could’ve sworn the alien smirked as it dove towards him. Trask pushed the indentation. Nothing. He even tried to will it to fire in a moment of panic. Nothing. Then the alien thrust his blade through Trask’s neck, a spurt of red splashed upon it. How the weapon worked would be a mystery Trask would take to his grave, but his last thoughts were of his friend Rivera, who he knew he failed.

  Rivera kept his scope on the alien as it made its way through the trees. He was losing his patience. The alien hadn’t spotted him yet and soon he would have an unobstructed shot, but he was sweating and body heat was fogging the edges of his clear face mask. That and the bulkiness of the suit were hampering his aim. He paused, and with one hand he quietly undid the left latch to his helmet. Then he undid the right one. He knew the Major would be furious, but right now his survival was more important. Making sure he never lost sight of the alien, he slowly lifted off his helmet and placed it on the ground beside him. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, he peered back through the scope and reacquired his target. Now he felt better.

  “Almost, almost,” he whispered to himself as the alien was about to reach an opening.

  He heard a twig snap behind him. He peeked down at his helmet and in the clear face mask he caught the reflection of another alien carefully approaching him from behind. The alien had dark fluid covering one arm and a blade covered in crimson protruding from the other. Instinctively, he knew Trask was dead. He also knew had he not removed his helmet, he would not have heard the twig snap and he would have joined him. He waited a few seconds longer, patiently watching the creature through the reflection on his face mask. When the alien was only a few feet away, he turned and fired.

  At least fifteen bullets found their mark in under a second. Before the alien even fell, Rivera turned back to his original target. He focused and reacquired his target now with an unobstructed view—a blue-skinned alien with yellow eyes that now had its weapon focused directly back at him. He could only stare at the cause of his death as a narrow blue beam from the alien’s weapon shot directly through the magni-scope, piercing his eye, and exploding his skull.

  Major Gaines was about a hundred yards away when he heard Rivera’s burst of gunfire and spotted the deadly flash. Immediately, he charged towards the source of the blast, staying low to the ground. Hearing no return fire, he had to assume that his men were dead and there was at least one, or more, deadly ET’s out there.

  He crouched behind a tree and scouted the area through his scope, moving it back and forth to view the trees. He stopped when he spotted movement. A lighter skinned alien was squatting among the branches of a giant oak peering in his general direction.

  Does he see me? It was tough to tell by looking at its dead eyes. What was it doing? These beings just wasted his entire team and now he had one directly in his sights—and it was just sitting there in the middle of a heated battle. It didn’t make any sense to him. Gaines increased the magnification on his scope to get a full view of its head. This one looked exactly like the gray aliens of legend—bald, narrow features, large black vacant eyes. Placing his right eye against the lens he lined up the cross hairs for a kill shot. To compensate for the wind and gravity, he adjusted his aim two inches to the left. As he tensed his index finger on the trigger, he noticed it. Not quite a smile, but the right side of the alien’s lipless mouth slightly curled up. A grin, he thought to himself. The same grin that any of his poker pals might have made at him when they knew they held the winning hand. Suddenly, he realized how the situation made sense.

  He cursed himself for a fool. This alien was the decoy and he was taking the bait hook, line, and sinker. Instantly, he dove away to the right as a force beam coming in from a different direction shattered the tree behind him. Recovering quickly he rolled onto his back and fired wildly at the shadow descending upon him. However, while David’s battle instincts were smart enough to narrowly escape certain death, he was unlucky enough to be in the path of the falling oak.

  “Shit!” was all Major Gaines could mutter as he desperately attempted to roll to safety. He screamed sharply and winced under his helmet as
a thick branch from the giant oak landed on his left leg, pinning him to the ground. Luckily, the protruding branches struck the ground first, lessening the impact. Unluckily, it jostled his weapon from his gloved hand when he knew he would need it most.

  He pushed the tree with his good right leg hoping to get just enough movement so he could pull free. It wouldn’t budge. He muttered angrily. Using his good leg he tried kicking it, a wave of urgency overtaking him as he sensed the aliens closing in. He tried again striking the tree repeatedly with his boot, each time with more force and more determination than before, until he saw an alien approach. He found his rifle lying only one foot away from his grasp. Pushing hard against the tree, he got closer. So close that his fingertips were only inches away when the alien bent down and picked it up.

  33

  The alien studied the dull metal finish of the semiautomatic machine gun it held awkwardly in its hands. It stroked its long fingers across the barrel, feeling the warmth generated from the recently fired shots. Its skin changing from a dull gray to a gun metal gray as it did so. With a quick surprising motion, it expertly slipped its arm and head through the strap and placed the butt of the rifle against its thin, wiry right shoulder liked a trained soldier. Holding the mount with its left hand, it peered through the scope with hollow black eyes and aimed the crosshairs at Major Gaines’ head. It reached around with its right hand, menacingly cracking its stunted knuckles before placing a cold finger on the even colder metal trigger. Gaines jerked back in panic, desperately trying to get his leg free. The loud pop of three single shots echoed in his eardrums. Then he watched the alien convulse in a violent jerky motion, before it fell lifelessly to the ground beside him, its skull cracking against the fallen oak with a sickening thud, its skin changing to a greenish brown before fading back to a familiar light gray.

  To his surprise Gaines saw Professor Le Buc shaking uncontrollably, standing with his weapon held out as if it were an extension of his arms. Le Buc dropped the weapon, quickly peeled off his protective helmet, and vomited violently onto the dirt.

  Gaines breathed a sigh of relief. “Professor, help get this tree off me.”

  Le Buc wiped his mouth with his sleeve and ran over to his friend. “Sorry, first … first time I ever killed anything.”

  “Only you would apologize for saving my life,” said Gaines. “Grab a branch. See if you can get enough leverage so I can get loose.”

  “Certain—” Another gasp of air escaped his mouth. His eyes opened wide in shock. A soiled metal blade protruded from his chest.

  The blade retracted and the Professor slumped lifeless to the earth, revealing the alien standing behind him.

  Gaines’ eyes dilated with grief and rage upon seeing his good friend slain before him, but there was nothing he could do except shout. He was still pinned beneath the tree and his weapon was still out of reach—this time, strapped around a dead alien’s body. The alien standing above him, with the blood-covered blade attached to its wrist, looked familiar. It was the same alien he had set in his sight only moments ago, though now its skin was darker with a greenish brown flow that altered with every step.

  The alien reached out cautiously with his empty hand and removed the radio from Major Gaines holster. It then retracted the blade, unfolded a seamless pouch from its chest, and pulled out two small metallic tools. David looked about and saw his possible salvation. Sticking out from beneath Le Buc’s body was the handle of his gun. Le Buc had fired only three shots, which meant there was plenty of ammunition left in the cartridge.

  When he thought the alien was engrossed in its task, he stealthily reached for the gun. He looked at the alien, who was quickly and expertly disassembling the two-way, and hoped it didn’t notice what he was doing. Carefully he slid his hand closer.

  The alien placed the tools back into its pocket and withdrew a small metallic box from the wristband that housed the blade. Gaines kept one eye on it and one eye on his goal. He was now just inches away. A few more seconds and he would have it.

  The alien turned quickly and stepped on Gaines’ outstretched arm. It retrieved the pistol and tossed it aside. It looked directly at Gaines for a moment then returned to examining the radio. Scant seconds later, the small metal box emitted a short high-pitched beep. The alien discharged the radio component from the box and threw it away. It returned the box to its wristband and spoke softly in its high-pitched tongue with a repetitive clicking sound.

  Then the alien went silent. It discharged the blade from its wristband and turned toward Gaines. Gaines raised his arms and good leg in a defensive position, prepared to make his last stand. He knew he would die but he wasn’t going down without some sort of a fight.

  The alien retracted his blade.

  Gaines hoped that the alien changed its mind. That somehow it would show mercy on him and spare his life. He was wrong. The alien just didn’t feel like fighting. It reached into a pouch on its belt and removed a circular metallic object about five inches in diameter. The display indicator on top was fully blue. Instinctively, Gaines knew what it was. It gave him the most unpleasant feeling of déjà vu’. At least this death would come quick. Though from this close distance, he wondered if DNA testing would be the only way to identify his remains.

  The alien pointed the weapon at him. This time, he knew he would surely die.

  34

  Multiple shots rang out as an eruption of rapid fire flew through the air. The alien turned quickly and discharged its weapon toward the source instead of its original target, Major Gaines. The blast annihilated a four hundred year old oak tree with a deafening roar.

  The resulting silence unnerved Gaines, but when the debris of the blast settled, more shots strafed the area. The alien leapt into the nearest tree, climbed quickly upward, and skittered across the branches to adjacent trees escaping safely back towards its ship. For the second time in as many minutes Gaines was saved. However, for the third time he had a weapon thrust into his face.

  “YOU IDIOT!” shouted Colonel John Chase. “You two, look around. Blaze, if anything else comes back, fire at it to back it off—but don’t aim directly at it.”

  Dr. Jeff Blaze and Logan Grey looked around, praying the alien wouldn’t come back. Their hearts pounded so hard with fear they could almost hear the rapid beating.

  “You—,” Chase pointed his barrel at Major Gaines. “—give me one good reason why I shouldn’t blow your fool head off right now.” He cocked his weapon to let Gaines know he was serious.

  This scenario was getting old, Gaines thought, tiring of playing the victim. “Get this tree off me now,” he shouted, lifting his upper body off the ground. A sharp pain shot through his abdomen, telling him his leg wasn’t the only injury he had sustained.

  Chase responded by pushing him right back down. “I don’t think you understood me correctly,” he said forcefully.

  Logan saw by his body language that Chase wasn’t bluffing. Their hike through the woods was disturbing, to say the least. The red snow, scattered entrails, flesh that clung to the trees, and mutilated corpses both human and alien, were not things Logan expected to find in the mountains. Yet Chase’s violent reaction still caught him off guard.

  “The body you’re standing over may still be alive. He needs medical attention,” yelled Gaines.

  Chase knelt down. Placing his fingers on Le Buc’s neck he found no pulse. “He’s dead—just like you’re going to be if you don’t start talking.”

  The grief Gaines felt now in his heart was much worse than the pain he had in his leg and his ribs. His friend was dead and he knew he was partially responsible. He looked straight up at the sky, then closed his eyes and sighed.

  “Answer me, now!” Chase ordered, nudging him with his gun, not giving Gaines a moment of respite.

  After a brief pause, Gaines answered. “I’m Major David Gaines, Canadian Intelligence Officer. I’m here for the same reasons you are.”

  “No, not the same reasons,” yelled Chase. “W
e came here to learn, not to kill. You god damn Canadians made a mess of everything. Do you know what you may be responsible for?” This was not a question Chase actually expected an answer to, nor did he get one.

  “Get the hell off of me,” said Gaines in a low firm tone. His eyes narrowed with repressed rage.

  “Sure.” Chase stood tall and backed away. “Leave him be,” he ordered as he turned away from Gaines. “Let him rot here.”

  “No,” said Logan defiantly.

  “Don’t,” whispered Jeff Blaze, placing his hand on Logan’s shoulder, trying to keep him out of it.

  “No,” repeated Logan, this time a little louder as he pushed Jeff’s hand away. He reached down and turned over the dead body. When he saw Pierre Le Buc’s lifeless eyes staring blankly back at him, he jumped back. This wasn’t just another soldier whose dead body he saw on his way here. This was his colleague and his friend … and it just as easily could have been him. “I got dragged out here to communicate with these things, not get slaughtered by them, and certainly not to leave other men to die.”

  “I advise you to stay out of this Mr. Grey. For your own good,” responded Chase, calmly but with a veiled threat.

  “Not likely,” answered Logan.

  Chase replied by aiming his gun at Logan’s chest. “Then let me put it this way. Due to the actions of this man—whom you’re so decisively set on saving—your services probably will not be required. Therefore, you’re expendable.”

  Logan read his body language immediately. His eyes were focused. His arms and legs weren’t shaking. His hands were tense. He didn’t know Chase well enough to recognize any of his tells. Was he bluffing? Logan wondered. Would he really kill me? Then he learned the answer, but it didn’t matter anyway. “I’m not going to leave him here in the middle of God knows what because you say so.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t realize what’s at stake.”