Attack on Area 51

by Mack Maloney

  The mild vibration suddenly became a rumbling so loud, so powerful, that the massive S4 chamber started moving—physically moving. The gantry began swinging like an amusement park ride, knocking some of the FCSF troopers off their feet.

  And then came a gigantic boom!

  In that instant, no one could talk, no one could hear, no one could even think about anything but the overwhelming, earsplitting bang—the result of Hunter’s jet rocketing past the huge open door leading into the S4 cavern, breaking the sound barrier at the exact right moment.

  Everything in the fantastic chamber went dead. All the colors, all the lights, all the means of communication—all of it just blinked out. This place had run on sound waves to keep it hidden all these years. Creating a sonic boom in such a space was like dropping an A-bomb on it. Thousands of circuits were blown out. Other things exploded just from the massive increase in pressure. Many AMC soldiers and techs on the bottom floor suffered from burst craniums, their screams could be heard even over the titanic roar.

  It was the moment the FCSF team had been waiting for.

  Ben shouted as loud as he could, “Let’s go!”

  Immediately, JT and half the FCSF troopers attacked the AMC soldiers blocking their way out of the underground chamber. Many of the enemy gunmen were on the floor, writhing in pain from the sudden unexpected sonic blast. Though outnumbered, the FCSF troopers quickly overran them in a brief, one-sided firefight, disabled the controls of the big round door, and opened it manually.

  Meanwhile, Ben and the other dozen troopers ran forward, guns blazing. Seeing them charge, the frightened and injured AMC soldiers at the far end of the gantry quickly retreated. This allowed the FCSF squad to light and drop the 50-gallon bladder bomb directly over the ray gun.

  They didn’t wait for it to explode.

  Once they had lifted it over the railing and let it go, Ben just yelled, “Let’s get the hell out of here!”

  It was only a matter of luck that the Man Not Zhang survived the bladder bomb explosion.

  He’d been at the back of his pod about a minute before, monitoring the security situation across an array of fifty-year-old TV screens. Intruders were inside the walls. They’d slipped in disguised as the lowly AMC privates whose only job was to lead lambs to the slaughter—and those dimwits couldn’t even do that right.

  But Procedure 3 had worked. The intruders, identities unknown, were trapped by his forces on the upper level.

  Nellis had promised that an underground convoy of reinforcements would arrive at S4 at any time. The numbers would be overwhelming—and the Man Not Zhang had planned to throw waves of AMC soldiers at the intruders until they ran out of ammunition and were eliminated.

  He’d been checking the time, anxious for the AMC reinforcements to arrive, when he heard the most horrendous noise. In the next instant, the sonic boom went through S4 with such concussive power, it penetrated his all-black ensemble and ripped some of the skin from his ancient bones.

  Then everything went dark—and the place that for years had been so quiet suddenly had sound waves bouncing off its walls with such violence the walls were crumbling. Machines and lights were shorting out, causing jagged streaks of sparks to spit from every corner of the place. It was like a thunder and lightning storm—contained inside the cavern.

  Uncharacteristically staggered, the Man Not Zhang pushed a handheld phone button all by himself, sending a sound wave signal to close the massive door leading from S4 to the underground highway. For some reason he thought that would stop the earsplitting noise.

  In the next instant, though, he realized what a foolish thing he’d done—and tried to override the signal. But it was too late. With their last ounces of stored power, those huge soundproofed motors zipped to life, closed the huge door, and then went dead for good.

  The masked man began pushing many phone buttons—while screaming orders to his aides to do something, anything, before realizing one was blind and cowering in the corner and the other had left long ago—but nothing was working.

  Well, not quite nothing …

  At that moment, the man was treated to an incredible sight: the twelve UFOs that had been sitting above the chamber gathering dust since the AMC had come to this place, suddenly started moving. Like robots, they became airborne all at the same time. Then, incredibly, a hidden door in the chamber—this one on the ceiling—cranked open under its own power, and the UFOs began flying out.

  “Cowards …” he mumbled through his tattered black mask as the last of the UFOs disappeared.

  The bladder bomb hit a second later.

  From his point of view, it came out of nowhere—a black, rubbery object falling from the ceiling, trailing a long, thin streak of flame behind it.

  It hit the big ray gun dead on and, in that first instant, splattered a great amount of liquid all over the device, its controls—all over everything.

  But in the next instant, the liquid exploded and the floor of the S4 chamber was suddenly awash in a tsunami of flames. It blew up with such violence, those flames actually climbed four stories and engulfed the masked man’s protruding pod.

  He could easily see through flames, though, and what he saw was the ray gun reduced to a mass of smoldering metal, surrounded by the bodies of his now-immolated tech crew.

  That was it for him. The end of this housecleaning experiment. What he needed was another great escape, a way to get out of the place before it became his tomb.

  He had one last trick, though: When he’d first come to the cavern, the AMC had given him a large box that they said should only be opened in cases like this. Leftover from the original builders of S4, it was to be used only when it appeared that some kind of catastrophic failure had occurred inside the chamber and there was no other way to escape.

  He opened this last-ditch box to see, to his astonishment, that it contained … a parachute.

  “In this place?” he thought.

  There were brief instructions. He read them hastily and thought they were pure insanity. But then he read them again—and thought, well, maybe not.

  Besides, he had no other choice.

  So he strapped on the parachute, and then left his pod, stumbling into the smoke and chaos outside.

  He gained his bearings and, picking his way through the debris and the bodies, started for the floor of the chamber below.

  Once the big round door was opened and secured, JT and his FCSF troopers set up another defensive firing line to cover to Ben and the others who’d run ahead to drop the bladder bomb on the chamber floor below.

  It was from this position that JT and his group saw the stunning sight of the up-until-then somnambulant UFOs suddenly coming to life and flying out of S4.

  JT couldn’t believe it. “I knew those things were real!” he shouted above the din.

  There were only scattered gunshots chasing Ben and his men as they ran to safety. They too had seen the exodus of the UFOs—just one more crazy thing happening around them.

  But then, just a few feet from reaching the new FCSF positions, Ben skidded to a stop.

  “Hey!” he yelled to JT. “Look at that …”

  JT saw Ben pointing down into the chamber. It was lit only by the fires leftover from the bladder bomb, but in the world of night vision, it was like looking into Hell.

  Incredibly, they saw a sight even stranger than the fleeing UFOs. On the chamber floor there was a figure clad in black and wearing, of all things … a parachute.

  Suddenly, the person jumped into the bottomless pit, pulling the ripcord as he did so. He disappeared in a flash.

  “What the fuck is that about?” JT asked, astonished.

  Ben didn’t have a clue—it was just too bizarre.

  JT yelled to him to get going again. A horde of AMC soldiers was coming their way, knowing the big round door was the only way out of the burning chamber.

  “Let’s get this door closed,” JT said as Ben finally reached the firing line. “We can figure out all t
his weird shit later.”

  The entire FCSF team began pushing on the big round door, hoping to slide it shut. They were about halfway into this when the throng of AMC soldiers reached the top of the gantry and began scrambling toward the portal. None of them was firing a weapon; it was beyond that now. They just wanted to get out before the chamber collapsed on itself.

  But they were out of luck.

  The FCSF troopers plus Ben and JT just managed to close the door and lock it manually from the other side before the first AMC gunmen arrived.

  They could hear the enemy fighters pleading with them to reopen the door, to save their lives, but that just wasn’t in the cards.

  Once safe on the other side, the FCSF team made sure everyone was accounted for—and then hurried back up top.

  Chapter 20

  WHEN HUNTER FINALLY EXITED the far end of the underground highway, just ninety seconds after creating the sonic boom inside S4, he found himself on the other side of Bald Mountain, about twenty miles north of Groom Lake.

  The highway’s egress point was in an extremely desolate area, just two large recessed holes in the side of the mountain and featuring nothing more elaborate than a truck turnaround.

  Even getting out had been an adventure. He exited the underground highway practically going sideways, more expelled from the cavern than flying out of it.

  He hadn’t anticipated the violent back-blast that resulted from dropping the sonic A-bomb on S4. Its concussion slammed into him just seconds after the boom hit, nearly causing him to spin out of control while still inside the tunnel.

  That’s why he couldn’t get out soon enough. The moment he saw the stars blazing overhead, he pulled back on the stick and went straight up, free once more.

  That was something he never wanted to do again.

  He went up to five thousand feet and leveled off. All this time he’d been praying that his plan had worked—that his sonic boom had massively disrupted the innards of the S4 chamber. But what happened to the FCSF team within?

  Once over Bald Mountain, he could see Area 51 in the distance. He immediately steered toward it. Smoke was coming out of the sides of the mountain, signs the S4 chamber was indeed in the process of being destroyed. All he wanted to do now was land and make sure his friends were okay.

  But then, suddenly …

  His body started vibrating.

  The feeling …

  Something was up here with him.

  But what?

  Then, up ahead … flashes of light.

  Different colors. Red, yellow, emerald.

  They didn’t look like explosions. They looked more like fireworks.

  But, this wasn’t Detroit. Who would be setting off fireworks way out here?

  It took him a few moments to figure out what was happening. Then it hit him. The flight path between him and Groom Lake was filled with … UFOs.

  Twelve of them.

  They were spinning and twirling, climbing and diving, engaging in all kinds of fantastic maneuvers.

  Hunter knew these were the same objects he’d seen earlier inside the chamber; somehow they’d gotten out of S4 before the shit really hit the fan. But now he wondered: Were these really UFOs? Or were they something else?

  They were soon zooming back and forth right off his nose, almost intimidating in their manner. At the same time, though, they never strayed from blocking his path to Groom Lake.

  Almost as if they were … guarding Area 51.

  That’s when he thought maybe these “UFOs” weren’t UFOs at all.

  Because he didn’t get “the feeling” for anything other than aircraft.

  Earth-built aircraft …

  At least that’s how he thought it worked.

  He put his theory to the test. He fired a few machine gun bursts at one of the objects, intentionally shooting high. As soon as the rounds went over it, the object moved so quickly, Hunter knew no human could possibly be piloting it. Yet he knew they were very “earthly.”

  In fact, they were acting more like robots.

  So when the next one came frightfully close to him, he lined it up and put a burst of .50-caliber rounds right into it.

  The bright light emanating from the object suddenly blinked out—revealing an impressive, if slightly outdated UAV inside. A drone electronically dressed up to look like a UFO.

  He’d been right. They were little more than aerial robots.

  It made sense to him now. This was undoubtedly a ruse that the original builders of S4 had come up with to keep prying eyes away—or, better put, to keep them distracted. Whenever anyone unauthorized got too close to the place, just send up a fleet of flying things that looked like UFOs, and Area 51’s reputation as a repository for ETs would be furthered—and everything else done there, and other places close by, quickly forgotten.

  It was a brilliant tactic of deflection simply because, UFOs were a lot sexier than whatever else someone suspected was being done at Area 51.

  After Hunter shot at a couple more of the UAVs, the remaining drones disappeared into the night, destination unknown.

  Finally, he turned toward Groom Lake.

  He didn’t dare risk a radio call at this point—not with AMC forces so close by. He’d have to land to find out if—

  Suddenly, his cockpit was bathed in bright-yellow light. His body froze. At first he thought another wave of memories was about to overcome him.

  But it was something stranger than that.

  He looked up and saw an enormous, saucer-shaped craft right above him. Where the hell had it come from? It bore no resemblance to the drones he’d just encountered. It was the size of a battleship and had hundreds of blinking lights all over it. And it didn’t look like a Hollywood version of a UFO.

  It really looked out of this world.

  It wasn’t dancing around or bobbing and weaving. The saucer-shaped craft had matched his speed perfectly and was flying in formation with him, making no secret that it was watching him.

  Then, after just a few moments, as he continued staring at it dumbfounded, the gigantic vessel started vibrating—and then it was gone, disappearing straight up in a flash, moving in a way that defied all laws of aerodynamics.

  Hunter was thunderstruck.

  He’d never see anything like that.

  Or, at least, he didn’t think so.

  Chapter 21

  HUNTER COULD SEE THE first faint rays of dawn lighting up the sky as he set down at Groom Lake.

  He was greatly relieved when an access ladder appeared out of the murk and JT came clanging up to the top.

  His friend was grinning.

  “Don’t you know Sabres can’t go supersonic in this universe?” JT asked him.

  Hunter just patted the top of the F-86’s cockpit panel.

  “Well, this one does,” he replied.

  He climbed out of the Sabre and saw frantic activity all over the base.

  The several hundred homeless abductees were being helped out of Hobo Hangar by FCSF troops and led onto the main runway.

  In the distance, the first of the C-119s could be seen lining up for a landing. The five other Flying Boxcars were right behind it.

  Hunter could also see smoke pouring out of many different places around the base itself. From below buildings, out of sewer openings, out of cracks in the nearby mountain. All indications that the massive fire was still raging below.

  Ben was waiting at the bottom of the ladder. He gave Hunter a bear hug, and so did JT.

  “Once I get my hearing back,” Ben joked, “remind me to buy you a drink.”

  “I’ll buy you two,” Hunter replied, adding, “By the way, did you guys see anything funny flying overhead in the last few minutes?”

  They both laughed. “Something funny? Flying around here?” JT replied incredulous. “You’ve got to be kidding. …”

  At that moment, St. Louis appeared. He too embraced Hunter and then gave him an update.

  “The Stinger guys say the three AMC
cargo planes are just twenty-five minutes away. And we can be sure that the AMC will be sending another convoy up from Nellis, too. Now we’re all still in agreement we don’t want to start a war with these guys now—right?”

  Hunter nodded emphatically. Ben and JT did too.

  “Time to bug out,” JT said anxiously.

  But then Hunter asked St. Louis, “Do you have enough stuff from the AII to make the trip worthwhile?”

  “More than enough,” St. Louis assured him. “But there’s something in that storage room that you’ve still got to see.”

  Hunter was surprised.

  The first C-119 had landed and the first group of homeless was being loaded in. The other C-119s were coming in as well. The area could be engulfed by AMC troops at any moment, plus a huge fire was burning below.

  So why did St. Louis want him to go with him?

  St. Louis anticipated the question.

  “Trust me,” was all he said.

  He led Hunter back to AII storage room.

  It was practically empty. All of AII’s data had been recovered, including all of the strange artifacts, and put aboard the Mitchells.

  But it was the big glass case in the middle of the chamber that immediately caught Hunter’s eye. It had been covered over last time he saw it.

  Now the covering was gone.

  Hunter took one look at what was inside the case and felt his whole body go numb.

  “God …” he breathed. “Am I dreaming this?”

  St. Louis smiled, and said, “If you are, then we all are.”

  Inside the huge case was a jet airplane. It was long and sleek, and its delta-configured wing started up near the cockpit and went all the way to the tail.

  It was painted red, white, and blue, and looked absolutely fierce, as if it were going many times the speed of sound even though it was standing still.

  “Is that my plane?” Hunter whispered, “Is that … an F-16XL?”

  It was a very rare plane—and it was his. At least at some point in his past it had been. Or at some point in another time and place.

  But here it was, again.

  That persistent vision of something speeding by him in a blur?