by Ballan, Greg
Colonel Ross’s displeasure was evident as the moody colonel terminated the communication with Millhouse who now had a severe knot in his stomach. ‘Destroy the invader,’ Ross had ordered. But deep down Millhouse wondered if the HAWS rockets had enough firepower to pierce the shell that had survived an orbital re-entry and crash landing.
The probe continued on a course that would lead it toward Groom Lake.
Millhouse formed a desperate plan. The two remaining vehicles drove ahead of the slow moving probe. He had the soldiers position themselves behind a shallow dune after leaving both Jeeps directly in the path of the oncoming probe. Millhouse hoped that the alien machine would stop to examine the abandoned vehicles. Once the probe stopped, they would fire their rockets and hopefully destroy the construct. The fuel tanks and extra fuel canisters on the Jeeps would add to the explosive force brought to bear against the alien craft. Millhouse picked up the experimental pulse rifle and he and his four remaining men anxiously waited for their target to approach within fire range.
The probe approached the Jeeps and stepped over the vehicles, its egg-like pod hovering over them. A beam of white enveloped each vehicle for a brief moment and then ceased.
The few seconds allowed the men to lock their weapons on the target and fire. Two armor-piercing rockets sped toward their objective and each hit their mark. The first rocket impacted against the probe’s body and detonated milliseconds after contact. The second rocket hit a Jeep, detonating its fuel and exploding both vehicles into an inferno. The concussion and secondary explosions were deafening and the four men ducked behind the dune to avoid debris and fallout from the explosions.
After a five count, Millhouse peeked over the dune. The smoke and fire still dominated the impact site. After three more seconds the alien probe became visible, unscathed by the inferno they had brought down upon it. It was advancing – now heading for their position.
I knew it. Millhouse thought for a moment before addressing his men. “Take my canteens and radio, head back for the base, and radio ahead that we failed in our objective. I’ll hold this thing off as long as I can.”
The three men looked at him, stunned by the implications of his words. He was condemning himself for their survival.
“Move, damn it!” Millhouse ordered. “This thing’s gonna be here within seconds.” He tossed his canteens at his men.
The three men scrambled over the dune and ran from the oncoming alien probe.
Millhouse hefted the experimental pulse rifle to his shoulder and took aim.
“Smile, you alien fucker,” he whispered as he tapped the weapon’s firing pin.
Three rounds impacted the probe, cracking its outer shell. The probe stopped its advance. Millhouse fired two more three-round bursts which caused a distortion in the alien hull metal.
The probe’s hull changed from a golden hue to light purple. It once again began to approach his position. Millhouse placed his second and final nine-round clip into his weapon and fired. The rounds impacted against the probe, but to his dismay, the distortion effect was minimal. Somehow the probe was able to polarize its plating, increasing the bond that held the molecules together. No longer able to penetrate its shell with his weapons, Millhouse retreated slightly, cursing when the probe altered course to intercept him.
Retreating further, he looked back over his shoulder and was filled with dread. The probe was closing in – now only a scant twenty meters away. He couldn’t outrun the monstrosity. Death was imminent, but his survival instincts and adrenaline urged him to keep running.
He fell face first into the desert sand. He flipped himself over, and to his horror, the spider like probe had snared his leg with some kind of tactile strand. Panicking, he grabbed the glowing filament to free himself and it crackled, sending a shock throughout his body. The probe had captured him with a tendril of controlled energy. He glanced over at his experimental rifle which now seemed crude in comparison to the elegant and lethal alien arsenal.
Millhouse struggled to free himself from the unyielding strand but his strength was waning. The probe shot out another strand, then another. Soon he was hopelessly trapped with the probe looming directly over him. More and more strands of energy enveloped him like a spider wrapping up a hapless insect caught in its web.
His entire body was securely wrapped in this energy cocoon. The probe still loomed over him, its greenish ocular lens staring directly into his eyes. The alien eye focused over to the experimental weapon. It snared the pulse rifle with appendages from one of its legs and bathed the weapon in the same white light it used on the Jeep and then discarded the object. The probe turned around and continued, crawling away from Millhouse, resuming its earlier course toward the Groom Lake facility, leaving the captured soldier to his fate.
* * * *
Colonel Ross was in constant communication with the men that escaped from the alien probe. He had ordered two helicopters airborne; the first to pick up the escaping men on foot, and scout the area. The second helicopter was to track and report on the probe’s progress as it closed in on the Groom Lake facility.
According to the latest contact, the probe was only four kilometers outside of the Groom Lake electrified fence. The space between the fencing and the main buildings was the only area with enough space to prepare an adequate assault against the alien construct.
Three modified M-1 armored tanks were positioned, along with several other smaller pieces of experimental weaponry.
The weapons technicians had struggled to retrofit an experimental hi-powered energy beam based on the Nikola Tesla energy coils of pre World War II. Tesla’s work had been decades ahead of his time, and only now – sixty years later – did the technology and manufacturing capability exist to fully appreciate and implement the man’s brilliant concepts with energy-coil design. Several large Tesla-beam weapons were being developed, but the platform being rushed into completion was a scaled device that would serve as the model for the larger ones under construction.
The military and government had scoffed at Tesla in the early 1900s. Decades later, Tesla’s research was acquired and the concept realized for the sheer brilliance that it was.
The base-wide alarm snapped Ross from his mental history lesson and he focused upon the matter at hand. He hoped that the scaled down Tesla weapon was completed and ready to meet this threat. If not, he would make do with the arsenal he had at hand.
“Bill, you’re brooding again,” Ross said.
“Yes, sir.” Anderson gave Ross a meek frown.
“Come on, man. Out with it.”
“Not here, sir. Can we meet in private?” Ross nodded, and both men when into the adjacent ready-room and closed the door behind them.
“Okay. Out with it, Bill.”
“I think that an all-out assault on this alien probe is not the prudent course of action.”
Ross rolled his eyes. “Bill, we lost three men today because of that probe. What are we supposed to do, allow it to walk around unchallenged?”
“No.” Anderson heaved a sigh. “It was attacked. The dead men violated direct orders and engaged the probe. They panicked; they caused their own deaths. If they had just observed and retreated according to Millhouse’s orders, they would probably be alive.”
“What about Millhouse?”
“Millhouse is dead because we ordered him to attack that thing again. He gave his life to save those under his command. Millhouse followed orders and did what he was supposed to do. He sacrificed himself to buy time for the others.”
“Damn it, Bill. I don’t have time to argue semantics with you. I have an alien probe making a beeline for this base because of a distress call from the alien spaceship. I’ve got a crippled alien ship floating toward the moon that may or may not still be a threat, and a pregnant woman about to drop another challenge any day now. On top of that I have some goddamned Washington bureaucrats due to arrive any day now, expecting to see the results we’ve obtained from all this alien technology we�
��ve acquired. We’ve spent billions of dollars on this project, and don’t have a whole lot to show for it.”
“I know,” Anderson whispered. “We’ve brought all of this on ourselves.”
Ross reacted as if he’d been slapped. “Just what exactly are you trying to say, Bill?”
Anderson’s posture stiffened. He faced his superior. “I’m saying we’re the ones who are at fault here. We’ve held a representative of another species hostage; we’ve tortured the alien for information; we’ve abducted the pregnant wife of a top CIA cleaner; and will dissect and study her child. We’ve also had a contract placed on an innocent French teenager and have put that same cleaner in jeopardy trying to protect her life. We’re indirectly involved with the murder of OSA agent Michael Sparks and we can be implicated in the botched attempt on Nancy Bertoni. To top it off we’re about to instigate an interstellar attack, which may have global implications – all without the authorization of our government. We’re operating under the radar screen of the legitimate governing bodies and military and we’re about to screw the pooch with this attack.”
The ready-room was deathly quiet as the two men who’d been friends for nearly two decades now faced each other.
“Is that how you really feel?” the colonel asked, suspiciously eyeing his second in command. Anderson said nothing. “Lt. Colonel Anderson, you’re bordering on insubordination.”
“And you, sir, are bordering on treason. Which is the greater crime?” Anderson crossed his arms.
Ross turned livid. “Lt. Colonel Anderson, you are relieved of duty.” Ross opened the door and called in the sergeant at arms on guard outside the room. “Escort the lieutenant colonel to his quarters and ensure he stays there.”
While being escorted out, Anderson looked over his shoulder and said, “One last thing, colonel. Last night our instruments recorded a wave of telekinetic energy that buried the sensors and overwhelmed the telekinetic shielding.” He smiled wickedly. “The focus of that wave was Shanda Knight. After the wave finally dissipated audio sensors picked up her voice as she addressed Sergeant Phelps. I’ll paraphrase her. ‘My husband knows I’m alive and he’s coming for me. God help all of you.’ ”
Anderson walked out of the command center savoring the look of terror on Ross’s face. This entire operation was spiraling out of control. They had no business starting a planetary war with an advanced species. Ross wasn’t thinking clearly. The people who were pulling his strings had no idea how blindly driven their puppet colonel had become.
* * * *
Erik felt a pang of sadness when he learned that Sarina Fahaad had been killed. Despite his better judgment, he found himself respecting her despite their obvious differences. Sarina had opened his eyes to the other side of the equation. He didn’t agree with it, but at least he now understood how those like Sarina thought.
There was a knock on his door, and he knew immediately who it was.
“Come in, Monique.”
The door opened, and she quietly entered. She spotted his packed duffel bag on the bed and looked at him sadly. She then tossed a newspaper on the bed and he noticed a picture of his other self. The headline was in French so he couldn’t understand it. He looked up at her, and she obliged him.
“It says, ‘Silver Superhero Saves President’s Daughter.’ ”
“That’s one for your scrapbook,” the detective commented.
Monique sighed heavily as she sat on the foot of his bed. “Erik, why did you run away after you stopped the assassin? What exactly happened? The reasoning you shared with my father was viable, but I know you weren’t totally forthcoming.”
Erik smiled at her keen perception. “I heard my wife calling to me and something …else … it reached out to touch me.” He shrugged. “I can’t explain it, but my wife did reach me through that unknown feeling. Her message was plain. She is still alive. Out there somewhere.” He beamed, lifting an arm toward an unknown destination and added, “And I’m going to find her. I needed to get away from the clutter of all the other thoughts and emotions to hone in on the impressions. That’s why I left. She’s out there, Monique, and she’s in trouble.”
“Then you must find her. I admit that I’d feel better knowing you were here to protect me, but since my father has cancelled my trip indefinitely….” She eyed him cautiously. “Which entity is the real you, Erik? The man I see before me or the silver giant in that picture?”
“Both.” The dark edge to his voice actually made the girl shrink back.
“I meant no offense.”
He slumped on the bed beside her and gave her a comforting smile. “You’ve given no offense. I’m sorry if I seemed abrupt. “I just don’t know which is the real me, so I must accept that I am one man with two identities.” He rose and placed a hand on her shoulder.
Monique looked up at him with a teary gaze. “I don’t want you to leave. It sounds terribly selfish after you finding out that your wife is alive, but that’s how I feel. When I’m with you I feel completely safe, like nothing in the world can harm me. I’m afraid.” She looked at the floor and added, “I don’t like feeling that way.”
“You flatter me. René, Jean-Luc and Paul, once he’s back on his feet, are all good solid men. René once told me he would take a bullet for you if he had to and made it clear that he expected no less from me.” Erik lifted her chin softly. “You’ll be in good hands. I told your father that the threat to you didn’t emanate from the Muslims or any contracted mercenaries affiliated with them – nor did it come from anywhere in France.” The detective sighed heavily.
“That’s the second time I should have listened to my gut and didn’t. This entire situation felt wrong from the start. The threat to you came from my own country. That’s where the investigation has to go. This kill order must be rescinded from its source, and that can’t be accomplished here. The people that I work with have a great talent when it comes to digging into this kind of thing. I promise you, we’ll find something.”
“You said ‘we’ll.’ Are you going to continue investigating this?” she asked hopefully.
“You bet. I can look for Shanda and look into your case simultaneously.”
“Shanda,” Monique repeated after him. “What a unique name. I like it.”
“It fits her.”
Erik stood and picked up his duffel bag. He was ready to leave and each minute he stayed in Paris was another minute wasted – one not looking for his wife. Jean-Paul had booked a seat for him on the next overseas flight back to Boston. Last night, he’d sensed the unease from both the president and Jean-Paul.
They were unprepared to accept who and what he was. President LaSalle was sincerely grateful for his efforts in protecting his child, but the thought of having a half-human half-alien freak in their midst made both men uncomfortable. That suited Erik’s purpose just fine. He had enough of Paris for one lifetime.
Monique walked Erik to the front of the presidential estate where Jean-Paul and the president were waiting for him.
“We have a limousine waiting to take you to the airport,” Jean-Paul said.
“Thanks, I appreciate that.” Erik gave him a curt nod.
“It’s the least we can do, Erik,” the president added. “You’ve saved my daughter’s life three times since you’ve been here. There are no words to express my gratitude. I have placed a personal call to your president and informed him of your heroism.” He extended his hand in farewell.
The detective shook the president’s hand and then headed outside to the awaiting car with Monique walking by his side.
After Erik had stowed his gear in the limousine trunk, Monique spoke up in a sad voice, “I guess this is really goodbye.”
“I guess it is.”
Monique gently wrapped her arms around him. “Good luck in your search, Erik. You are the kindest and most decent man I have ever met. As far as I’m concerned you are more human than most people I’ve come across.” She then kissed him lightly on the lips.
“That’s so I won’t have to wonder what it would have been like. I can brag to my friends.” She giggled as she released him.
Erik shook his head with a smile. “For everyone’s sake, Monique, please try to stay out of trouble.”
He disappeared inside the limousine, and the car pulled away. He continued to watch Monique LaSalle growing smaller and smaller until the car turned and she disappeared from view. He would miss her.
* * * *
The Groom Lake military installation was under a complete lockdown; meanwhile the spider probe approached the electrified fencing. It stopped as if examining the chain link barrier, carefully probing the fencing with one of its appendages. It recoiled as the electricity crackled.
Fifty armed soldiers watched nervously as the probe tested their installation’s first line of defense. The probe’s eye glowed an unearthly green and emitted a beam of energy that encompassed three sections of fencing. Before their eyes, the fencing vanished, while the break in the electrical circuit unleashed several thousand volts of untamed electrical discharge.
The probe entered the open area, and the terrified soldiers opened fire on the invader. The sound of gunfire was deafening as several hundred rounds of explosive munitions impacted and detonated near the advancing probe. After a barrage lasting several seconds, an order was given, and the men paused. The probe emerged from the billowing smoke unscathed.
A second attempt at stopping the probe was already in motion.
The first M-1 tank locked onto the intruder and fired its modified main gun while the other two battle platforms moved ahead to attain an optimum attack position. The armor-piercing, experimental round knocked the probe backwards before detonating in a blinding explosion.
The spider-like invader fell over. Immediately, its appendages scrambled to right itself. The tank fired another shell. The second round detonated a meter in front of the alien construct – the concussion knocking it back some more.