The Roswell Protocols

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The Roswell Protocols Page 26

by Allan Burd


  All they had to do was reconnect the crystal strands using heat to fuse the replacement strands. What made it even easier was, the aliens had already initiated and almost completed the repairs to the damaged panels. Jeff saw how they patched the circuitry and knew he could repeat the process with the tools he had on hand.

  He got Chase, Gaines, and Carlson started on repairs in the engine room, then headed to the bridge to repair the intentionally cut strands there on his own. They required his personal attention because they were the important ones—the set responsible for turning the ship’s power on, the set he needed to spring his trap on the Japanese and save the ship. That’s also why, he thought, they were intentionally cut—to stop us from using this ship when the Canadian squad closed in.

  The damaged circuitry in the engine room was necessary for only the latter half of his plan—the part that would secure the ship solely for the United States. And the most ingenious thing of all, Jeff thought, was that he had the Canadians doing all the work that would ultimately cost them the grand prize. He beamed, feeling like a grandmaster of chess, playing against two opponents at the same time. His strategy was so clever that he was about to call checkmate on both players, the Japanese and the Canadians, with one swift bold move. And his erstwhile opponents wouldn’t even catch on until the game was long over and he was victorious.

  He thought back again to Major Gaines working feverishly at his command to reconnect the conduits. The irony was too much. If only they knew, he thought. He estimated it would be seven more minutes until they did.

  To Lynx’s own amazement, he was still alive. So far he had been managing to anticipate where and when the Ninjas would appear and maneuver himself safely away. He glanced at his digital timer. Only two minutes passed. Damn, he thought. It seemed longer.

  Suddenly, his radar showed a bogey appearing behind him. Before he could react, a rocket was already on his tail. It was so close he only had one chance.

  He pushed the throttle stick forward and dove for the hard deck, heading almost straight down accelerating to over 1000 mph. The missile followed his path and closed in. It was a race. It was that simple. If he won, he lived. If he lost, he died. By the closeness of the blip, he would find out which almost immediately.

  He waited until the last possible instant before pulling out of his nose-dive, narrowly missing the ground by only a hundred feet. The missile’s internal guidance systems automatically compensated for his course change and made its own adjustments to cut off his angle of ascent. In a nanosecond the missile angled up and rapidly sped towards him.

  It tore through Lynx’s wake then smashed with powerful impact into the ground. Its warhead detonated, and what was once a peaceful harmony of green and brown was swallowed whole by a sea of destructive yellow. Instantly, the earth was turned into a fiery pit, spewing forth deadly flames. Its long reaching waves of fire erupted skyward, drowning Lynx’s aircraft in a deluge of heat.

  Then, like a surfer riding out from the cone of a tidal wave, Lynx slipped free.

  He was grateful to be alive. Unfortunately, he had to return to the skies and let the enemy know he was still here. Otherwise, they would go straight for the spaceship. He checked the time. Four more minutes to go.

  Rebecca felt the truck rattle as a missile erupted behind them taking out the rear of her convoy. The two remaining Jeeps fired wildly into the air, hoping to hit the invisible target. One of the trucks in front of her launched a SAM. None of them connected with their intended target.

  “Shit, they’re on us already.” The anger and determination on Rebecca’s face was clear.

  Logan’s face showed only concern. He had negotiated with the Japanese many times. He spoke their language. He understood their culture. And even though he knew this was not their way, he also knew that to them, honor and duty were of the highest importance. If they did not succeed, they lost face, causing them to lose their status in society. For them, that could be a fate worse than death.

  The Japanese had a saying, Logan knew. Business is war. Up until now, Logan always believed that. Now he knew that, no matter how heated things got in the world of business, war was much worse.

  In business he could negotiate. He could use their strenuous peer pressure to his advantage, always offering a way to save face in return for a favor. Here, he would never get the chance. There was no deal to be made. He knew they would be relentless even if they didn’t personally believe in this battle, which he assumed was probably the case. Because of their code, they would succeed or die trying. To do anything less would be dishonorable.

  “They’re not going to stop until they’ve destroyed us or taken what we’re carrying,” said Logan.

  “Tell me something I’m not aware of,” Rebecca shot back. She honked her horn twice and pushed the pedal to the floor. The two trucks in front of her took the hint and drove faster.

  But no matter how fast they drove, they couldn’t get away. The Ninja appeared from behind a hill and hovered directly in front of them, strafing the road with gunfire.

  The driver of the lead vehicle didn’t have time to react. Bullets tore through his windshield, his body spasming under the deadly assault. His lifeless arm slumped over the steering wheel and forced it left. The Jeep swerved with unbalanced momentum and flipped twice before bouncing off the road like a kicked rock.

  The hail of bullets continued—the hood and front wheels of the second Jeep its next victim. Its tires popped, its engines fizzled and smoked, as it came to a screeching unscheduled halt.

  Rebecca slammed on the brakes, her truck stopping just inches behind the second Jeep. The sudden halt caused her truck to jackknife. The Jeeps behind her responded just as poorly, neither one of them hitting their brakes until it was too late. The closest Jeep smashed the back of the truck nudging the cargo hold further out of line. The other one slanted off the road to his right to avoid hitting them both.

  Rebecca cursed herself for her weakness. She should have driven right through the lead Jeeps. Now she was vulnerable. Rapid-fire bounced off the front of her truck, ricocheting wildly in all directions. Two men in the front Jeep fell forward as they were hit.

  The Ninja angled his gun up, adjusting the concentration of his fire on the truck’s windshield. At first they bounced off, but under the continuous onslaught the windshield shuttered and creaked. It was going to live up to its bulletproof guarantee—but the frame was not.

  “GET OUT!” Rebecca opened the door and jumped out, taking cover behind it. Logan did the same. An instant later, the entire bulletproof windshield crashed onto the steering wheel and front seat. If they had not gotten out in time, they would have been crushed.

  Rebecca and Logan crouched behind their doors as bullets continued pounding the steel. When they finally stopped, Rebecca leapt up and fired six times at the Ninja. Six men from the second Jeep did the same. Their ammunition was wasted. The bullets that didn’t miss the mark bounced harmlessly off the helicopter’s armored plating.

  The Japanese responded with an even more brutal assault. Once again their gunner went to work, spraying hundreds of 30mm steel bullets toward them. Two men in front of Logan fell as shots cut them down. The rest of the soldiers took cover. Logan ran as fast as he could behind the truck for better protection. Rebecca, blocked by the jackknifed rear, ducked and rolled beneath it to avoid a hail of ricocheting gunfire, and met up with Logan at the rear doors.

  “We need a weapon,” Logan gasped.

  “You’re just full of suggestions, aren’t you,” she retorted. At least he had guts, she thought. She reloaded a magazine and shot out the lock on the rear door. Then she grabbed hold of the door, pulled it back, and climbed inside.

  “What are you doing?” asked Logan

  “I’m going to get one.”

  Jeff had just completed repairing the circuit. All he had to do now was hit the button that would turn on the ship’s power. That was the easy part. The difficulty was all in the timing. How long it would
take for the reactor to warm up, he could only guess. He hit the button on his radio. “Are you done?”

  “Almost,” Major Gaines answered.

  “I’m all set. I’m estimating it will take about thirty seconds for the systems to become operational. Unfortunately, it’s just a wag. I’m afraid your pilot might get caught in our trap as well.”

  “That’s not an option, Blaze,”

  “We don’t have a choice. I’m giving you the best guess I have under the circumstances. We’re going to have to time everything just right. You’re going to have to tell me when.” Taking down Lynx was not part of Jeff’s plan, even though it would make “Phase Two” easier. He had no problem taking down the Japanese fighters—after all they were trying to kill him—but Lynx was a different story. They were on the same team. At least for now.

  Gaines tossed the walkie-talkie to Chase then got on the two-way linking him to the frequency the fighter pilots used. “Lynx, are you ready?”

  Lynx was in the middle of a barrel roll, busy avoiding a barrage of gunfire when the call came in. “About time, Major.”

  “Begin flyby now. When you’re thirty seconds out, signal back.”

  Lt. Carlson thought about his helicopter pilots on the ground outside the spaceship and hoped they took cover as they were instructed to do.

  Colonel Chase radioed Jeff. “Get ready.”

  “Looking forward to it Colonel,” Jeff replied. He was too enthusiastic to be scared.

  Rebecca grabbed one of the alien weapons. Its indicator was glowing blue. She pointed it out the rear of the truck and pressed her finger into the curved indentation. Nothing happened. She threw it to the floor and grabbed another, with the same result.

  “They didn’t work for us then. What makes you think they’ll work for us now?” commented Logan.

  Rebecca refused to give up. She tried three more, tossing each one to the ground in disgust as they failed.

  “Maybe they’re coded,” he added.

  “Do you always state the obvious?” she yelled. “Of course they’re coded. If you had a weapon this powerful, would you allow it to be used against you?” Her eyes widened. She had an idea.

  Logan instinctively crouched as the sounds of rapid gunfire pinging off the roof suddenly echoed throughout the rear of the truck. Indents formed from multiple bullets impacting in the same spot. Logan figured the steel plating wouldn’t last long. “Sooner or later they’re going to tire of shooting at us and use a missile,” he shouted over the noise.

  “Not right away. They want what we have in here as much as we do. For now they’re going to try to scare us into the open, make us panic. If we’re dead, they can land and take what they want.”

  “What if we don’t panic?” asked Logan.

  “Then they’ll grow tired and use a missile.”

  Logan looked at the weapons on the floor. “So how do we decode them?” Rebecca drew a knife from her belt. “Simple. We don’t.” She grabbed one of the black body-bags, unzipped it, and spilled the alien body onto the floor like a wet fish from a net. She grabbed its hand, and without hesitation used her knife to cut off the alien’s elongated thumb. She grabbed some duct tape from a shelf and taped the lower half of the thumb onto her own, leaving the upper half exposed.

  “That’s disgusting,” Logan said.

  The steel rain ceased and the truck became quiet. Logan was glad when he heard the sound of an AK-47 return fire. It meant at least somebody outside was still alive. Then the helicopter’s distinctively sounding gunfire returned and a disheartening silence followed.

  It was broken by a commanding Japanese voice speaking over a loudspeaker. “ATTENTION CANADIAN FORCES. IF YOU WISH TO LIVE, DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP. WE HAVE NO DESIRE TO INFLICT UPON YOU ANY FURTHER HARM. WE ARE INTERESTED ONLY IN THE CONTENTS OF THE TRUCK. IF YOU WANT TO LIVE, SURRENDER IMMEDIATELY. YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS TO COMPLY.”

  Rebecca cursed under her breath and backed away from the alien corpse. “They’re lying. They won’t let us live because we know who they are. The international implications would be too severe. They’ll try to take us all down in one quick burst. If they succeed, they’ll take the merchandise. If they fail, they’ll blow it to bits and us along with it. They have nothing to lose.” She quickly swiped a weapon from the floor. “You ready?”

  “Whenever you are.”

  They both climbed out of the truck. Logan peeked around the corner and saw six Canadian soldiers, all with their hands raised high above their heads surrendering. Dupres was among them. Logan raised his hands and walked slowly from behind the safety of the vehicle. Rebecca waited a few seconds and then she did the same.

  The Ninja paused a few moments, waiting until it was certain that no one else would reveal themselves. Then, just as Rebecca predicted, it resumed fire. Two soldiers fell instantly in the first volley. Dupres and the others dove into the woods for cover.

  Rebecca acted. She aimed the weapon at the ship, pressed the alien’s thumb into the indentation with her own—and it fired. A photon of blue light shot into the sky and sheered the rotor right off the top of the Ninja stealth helicopter. It stopped shooting and dropped like a stone.

  Rebecca fired again, a second insurance shot, this one hitting the Ninja head on as it was falling. The blue light punched straight through the windshield glass, then sliced through the pilot and the gunner before exploding out the tail of the ship. Two seconds later, when the helicopter smashed into the ground, there was no doubt that everyone aboard it was dead.

  She looked at the weapons display. The blue color was almost completely faded out. With a shrug, she placed it in her pocket, took off the thumb, and walked towards the remaining soldiers, who were only now making their way out of the dense woods.

  They cheered.

  Dupres gave the downed chopper the finger, while shouting obscenities at it. As Rebecca got closer, the soldiers stopped for a second then gave her a huge round of applause.

  “Whooooo,” Dupres screamed as he clapped his hands. “Ma’am, if you don’t mind me saying so, you kick some serious ass.”

  She took a bow and clapped back at them. “Thanks, fellas. Let’s tend to the wounded. We still have a lot of work to do.” Then she grabbed the two-way from its holster and radioed her success to Major Gaines.

  59

  Gaines handed Carlson the two-way, glad to hear Rebecca’s news. Now it was their turn. He waited tensely, watching each second slowly tick off his watch. It was up to Lynx and Blaze to take down the second Ninja. He knew, once Lynx gave the signal, the power would be turned on bringing back the interference field that jammed all radio transmissions. Even if their plan worked, he would have no way of knowing if Lynx made it.

  “NOW,” Lynx shouted loudly into the comm. He was making a beeline to the ship with the Ninja hot on his trail.

  Gaines waved his arm. Chase relayed the message to Blaze.

  Blaze hit the button. For a moment nothing happened. Then the ship whirred and clanked to life. In the engine room, the three men watched as a protective shield rose, completely enclosing the power sphere. It took ten seconds to lock into place. Ten seconds that Blaze hadn’t accounted for.

  Bullets strafed across Lynx’s right wing, one round hitting the fuel tank. Precious fuel sprayed into the air. Automatically, self-sealing foam quickly filled the bullet hole halting the leak and preventing any serious damage.

  Lynx knew his straight line to the ship was making him an easy target. Yet he didn’t dare waver. Luring the enemy over the spaceship was their only hope of survival, even if it meant giving up his own.

  After fifteen seconds the reactor finally began to glow. “It’s starting, Doc,” Chase told him over the radio.

  Blaze was busy at another control panel in the room, desperately trying to open the dome. He needed to see what was happening. It was more than just curiosity. It was essential to the second phase of his plan. He had traced the connection correctly but still didn’t k
now exactly which switch on the panel was the right one. He grabbed his radio and responded to Chase. “Damn, it’s taking longer than I thought. I overestimated the aliens’ capabilities.”

  “Shit.” The disappointment on Chase’s face was evident to the others. The trap was sprung but it was going to take too long to close—and they weren’t going to get a second chance.

  Lt. Carlson was the most visibly frightened. “Maybe we should get the hell out of here. We’re even deader in here. The Ninja’s going to fire on us as soon as he flies by and we’re standing in the middle of the bullseye. If we run now, we’ll still have a chance.”

  “Sit tight,” Gaines ordered. He was resigned to their course of action. Either it worked or it didn’t. Either way he would see it through. “The only thing we’re going to do now is wait and pray.”

  Exactly thirty seconds passed when Lynx buzzed over the ship. It wasn’t a coincidence that at just that moment, bullets ceased whizzing passed him. He already knew why before the blip flashed on his radar scope.

  The Ninja had stopped. He no longer needed to chase anyone for he was exactly where he wanted to be—directly over his primary target. Its side doors began opening. In mere seconds, its missiles would be unfettered. Then there would be nothing that could prevent them from blowing the spaceship to smithereens.

  Blaze finally managed to get the dome open. Behind the retracting metal facade was a clear shield that, he imagined, normally allowed a beautiful view of space. What he saw, however, was vastly different. Hovering directly in his line of sight was the Ninja.

  It loomed in the darkness with terrifying presence. Its color was black as death, its hide, impenetrable and strong. It reminded him of a dragon—and just like the legendary beast of lore, it dominated the sky and those unfortunate enough to bear witness to it trembled. Then its wings opened, revealing the instruments of its fiery breath, and for the first time, Blaze doubted his plan. “Phase Two” became a distant thought for “Phase One” seemed destined to fail.

 

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