by KA Hopkins
We walked into the hotel like we belonged, my body makeup and silicon prosthetics hid the fact that I was green, and went straight to the restricted elevator stack without being challenged. Once inside the elevator, Marc swiped the universal hotel key card which took us directly to the restricted floor. To cover our approach, we used the alien beam weapons to temporarily disable the surveillance cameras in the hallways and elevator. We could not disable all of them without triggering alarms, but did what we could.
As the elevator doors opened onto the secure floor, Marc bluffed our way onto the floor by showing the guard our concierge key. Since magnetic card keys don’t have numbers on them, the guard checked the floor access list, confirmed the name Guide had provided and granted us access to the floor. The NSA Director had reserved a suite of rooms, but not the whole floor, so it was expected there would be other hotel guests.
Marc needed to get close enough to touch the guard without raising suspicions. As he walked by the guard, he pretended to stumble; the guard demonstrated his military honed reflexes and caught Marc by the shoulder to stop his fall. Marc shook the guard’s hand in thanks with a two-handed grip - the knockout drug patch concealed in his left hand caused the guard to pass out immediately. I grabbed him by the foot and dragged him out of sight. Meanwhile, Marc walked down the hall and pulled the same stunt with the guard posted at the door to the suite. We were now on the clock; the drugs would keep the corridor guards unconscious for only about fifteen minutes.
Frontal assaults are a great way to get yourself killed without a diversion and covering fire. We had neither, but we did have the element of surprise. Marc put the universal card key in the door lock, pushed the door open slowly and in an attempted female voice, announced: “Housekeeping!” A pretty poor diversion, but we needed only a second or two. We put our combined weight behind the now slightly open door, snapping the door safety latch off the door frame. No guard not expecting an attack can assess, draw and fire his weapon in the time it took for the door to slam open. The guards’ reaction times were excellent - both had their weapons halfway out of their concealed holsters - but Marc fired as soon as the door swung open. Before the guards hit the floor, Marc rushed over to the NSA Director and hit him in the forehead with a gentle palm-heel strike. The strike was so gentle it did not leave a mark, but it stunned the NSA Director enough that Marc could put him in an arm bar, preventing him from triggering the silent alarm hidden in his oversized chronographic watch, that Guide had forewarned us about.
The NSA Director’s watch did a lot more than just tell time. Embedded in it were optic and aural surveillance bugs, a voice and a GPS-receiver in addition to an emergency alarm. Whoever gave it to him, intended that he wear it all the time - there was no easy way to take it off as the steel band had been welded closed. To neutralize the surveillance features, I turned on a localized jammer.
Marc grabbed a pair of flexi cuffs and tied the NSA Director’s arms to the outsides of his ankles. It put him in an uncomfortable position and prevented any chance of him running away or putting up much of a fight. Judging by how soft his arms were, and the size of his belly, there was not much fight in him; he quit caring about the gym a long time ago.
I grabbed the two unconscious guards by the ankles, dragged them into the adjoining room and put them on the beds. When they woke up in an hour or so, it would look like they decided to take a quick nap. Taking a nap without informing the other guards was a grievous break in security protocol. To cover up our activities - we were dependent upon human nature - the room guards would overlook the protocol break to avoid getting into serious trouble.
Marc walked over to and looked down at the NSA director who was in a most unflattering position of face down, ass-in-the-air. He gave the director a not so gentle kick in the ribs to get his attention. “We don’t have much time. What you say in the next five minutes will determine your fate. We have proof you’re in collaboration with extraterrestrials working to prepare the Earth for an alien invasion. For that reason alone I’m justified in killing you on the spot as a traitor to mankind. We understand you did not have a choice due to the threats against your family. If we gave you a choice now, what would you do?”
The NSA Director’s response was sadly predictable, but not what I wanted to hear. I do believe he was snarling. “I will use all the power and technology at my command to hunt you and everyone you have ever known down and kill you in the most painful ways imaginable.”
Marc replied, “Fair enough, we’ll take that as a definite maybe. How many employees have you turned at NSA?”
“It doesn’t matter what I tell you, nothing we can do will stop the aliens from conquering this planet and I want to be on the winning team. Our defeat is inevitable.”
“We hear that a lot. How many have you turned?”
Feeling he had the upper hand despite his awkward physical position, the NSA Director proudly boasted, “Everyone at the Executive - plus key personnel at the Management level that have anything to do with surveillance, technology or operations.” He carried on: “You don’t get it do you? Earth is already lost; the aliens control every aspect of nearly all the world’s governments. If you are smart, you will join us and help oversee the ruling of Earth on behalf of our alien masters. It’s the only way Earth can join the ULIR; if we try and go it alone, the other alien races will unite and destroy us, because they believe humans are a threat to the stability of the ULIR. ”
“A life as a slave of the Draco Empire will be tough for many people; but the alternative is death for all of us. You must understand there is no other way. All of our war simulations showed we cannot beat the ULIR, they vastly outnumber us and are too technically advanced.” I’m sure he would have continued ranting if Marc hadn’t grabbed his hand with both hands and applied the memory inhibitor drug.
Marc removed the NSA Director’s restraints and dumped him on the bed. “He’ll be out for the next fifteen minutes. By the time he wakes up the guards in the hallway should be coming around. It’s time to exfil; we’ll arrange an unfortunate accident for him at a later time and place.”
We left the guard by the suite’s front door alone and picked up the guard by the elevator, leaning him up against the wall just as he was coming to. Marc held on to him and slapped his face a couple of times to speed up the process. “Hey buddy what’s up, you ok?” Marc asked in his most concerned voice. The guard awoke with a start and pushed back violently against Marc.
“Back off.” He mumbled.
Marc apologized and we walked past the guard, into the elevator. “The nerve of some people - you try and help them out and look at the thanks we get,” Marc said with a deadpan delivery. We walked out the front door of the hotel, hopped a black cab back to the park and went into a local pub for a quick pint.
The resident street gang was there, so we decided to buy everyone in the pub several rounds. We were on their turf, but picking a fight when everyone around you is enjoying free drinks is considered to be “poor form.” After a spot of fish and chips served in newspaper (which for some reason seems to improve the taste), I had Omni call Mother and arrange pick up. Despite our show of generosity, the street gang decided if we were rich enough to buy drinks for everyone, we should not mind making a larger donation to their social fund. They got up soon after we left. Walking outside, they found nothing but a deserted park. We watched their surprised reaction on Mother’s view screen.
Mother asked, “Do you want me to shoot them with the pulse cannon?”
I said, “It’s tempting; let’s go home before I change my mind.”
On the flight back to North America I mulled over what the NSA director had told us. What if he was right? What if the only way Earth could join the ULIR was as slaves to the Draco Empire? If we approached the ULIR as an independent planet, would the ULIR wipe Earth out just because they perceived mankind as a potential future threat? I needed to discuss the implications with Mother, but just did not have the energy to do i
t right then.
As I sank back into the command chair, coming down from the high of the evening’s mission, I felt warm, comfortable, well fed and safe. I thought about my family, it had been two months and three days since that fateful night…I wondered what they were up to.
Chapter 22 - Letting the cat out of the bag with the family
I asked Mother to get an update from Natasha on how everything was going on the home front. As a weird coincidence, Natasha happened to call in a warning to Mother that very moment. She had overheard enough of my wife’s conversations with the kids and her friends to know my wife suspected I was up to a lot more than what I was telling her. Ironically, her suspicions had not been raised by my overseas contract cover story or the fifty thousand dollars in cash. Mother said, “You need to listen to this.”
Mother opened a channel to Natasha, enabling me to see and hear everything from Natasha’s point of view. On the monitor, I could see my wife Pam on the floor by the fireplace, looking Natasha in the eye. She was actually talking to the dog almost like she knew the dog could understand her. Natasha had her head tilted to one side, her ears up and her eyes locked onto Pam’s every movement.
“Natasha, I realize you look like a dog and most of the time act like a dog, but I have a sneaky suspicion you’re much more than what you appear to be. You are a pretty good copy but you’re not our Natasha. A couple of things just don’t add up. They’re small things, but put them all together, the evidence is pretty convincing.”
Listening to my wife brought a smile to my face - one of her many attributes is that she’s smart as a whip, never takes anything for granted nor at face value. She figured out that the dog was a fake based only on the slightest changes in behavior. I looked at Marc. “So what do we do?”
“What do you mean we? She’s your wife, you deal with it.” Marc replied with a smile.
“What about operational security?” I asked.
Marc replied, “I think you need to read her in. It would be a big help having some personnel within the team who don’t look like hard core Special Ops soldiers.”
“Roger that. Natasha you're cleared to brief Pam on the basics of what we’re trying to do.” This should be interesting, I thought to myself.
“Pam, how about I make you a drink, I have one hell of a story to tell you,” Natasha said in a low, husky voice. Instead of my wife screaming at hearing our dog speak English, she smiled. “Gotcha, you old faker, let’s hear what you have to say.”
Natasha briefed Pam on the highlights of the past weeks and provided a summary of why I decided to help Mother and left home so suddenly. How extraterrestrials, through human collaborators, intended to pacify Earth’s population for an alien invasion, and that I was in command of an ad-hoc team of former Special Forces operators, trying to slow down the invasion until we could present a case on behalf of Earth and hopefully get assistance from the ULIR. Natasha wisely left out the part about me dying and now being head-to-foot metallic green, which as smart and tough as Pam is, just might have been the straw that broke the camel’s back.
With Pam quietly absorbing everything Natasha had just told her, I decided to jump into the conversation. “Hi Pam, how it’s going; what’s new?” I asked in my most innocent, laid back tone. Pam responded in a very calm and collected tone, not showing any signs of freaking out in the slightest.
“Jake, if half of what Natasha told me is true and given I’m having a conversation with what looks like our old dog, which lends a lot of credibility to what she’s saying - what the hell is going on?”
“Pam, I could not make up a more farfetched story if I tried.”
“Ok, I get we are not alone, as the universe is too big for mankind to be the only sentient race; but you in charge of Special Forces leading the Earth resistance? What are you not telling me? You’re a computer guy; I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, but you have to admit your military and extreme sport days are long gone. I have seen you barely able to walk to the bathroom most nights because your joints ache so much. I love you and believe in you, but kicking ass and taking names has never been one of your strong points. If you’re the best hope for Earth’s survival, should I be worried?”
Pam was not being cruel in her assessment of my capabilities, she was bang on. Who did I think I was fooling, believing I could make a difference, against such odds? Marc meanwhile was laughing his ass off.
“You got anything to say partner, now’s the time to get it out.” I said, a little angry.
“Nope, I’m good, Pam is doing fine all by herself.”
Pam continued, “So when are you coming home? You have been gone for months, when I was originally promised a couple of weeks. It would be easier if we could talk face to face.” I asked Natasha to transfer my signal to the smart TV in their room. Pam said, “That’s better, it’s good to see you again… you look kind of pasty, are those burns on your face? Are you really ok?”
I still had on my flesh-tone make up with the fake burns; there was no point in hiding that a lot more than my job description had changed since I had left. “Pam, I need a minute. There’s something I want to show you.” I went to the nearest bathroom took a quick shower and washed off all of the body makeup and silicon prosthetics to reveal the new me. I dried off and threw on a sweatshirt and baggy pants.
I sat down in front of the monitor again and smiled, “So what do you think?”
“That’s a new look for you! The green nicely highlights your eyes, but that doesn’t look like any tan I have ever seen. What happened to your skin?”
“Natasha left out a few details about the night I left home - there was a pretty good fight in the house, then a more violent one on an alien scout ship and I ended up badly hurt. Mother put me back together, but needed some additional parts due to the injuries I sustained.”
“How many additional parts are we talking about here?” Pam asked.
“Pretty much all of them,” I replied.
“Define all.”
“Like whole new body.” I had just told my wife of twenty years her husband was dead, but his memories and personality were now in a metallic green copy of himself. Most people would have been horrified. Not Pam.
“Right, you are what you are. We’ll deal with the green skin later. Let’s have a look at the rest of you.” I dropped my robe and stood up in front of the monitor to give Pam “the Full Monty.”
“Oh that works; I think I could get to like that! Apart from the belly you look like a Greek god. Are the changes on the inside as big as the ones on the outside?”
“That’s the point - there are more changes on the inside than what’s visible on the out. I really am the leader of the Earth resistance. It’s keeping me busy; coming home to talk about everything that’s happening might not be easy.”
“How many troops are working with you?” Pam asked.
“To preserve OpSec, I’d better not say for now. I don’t want the enemy to have any idea of what our numbers are just yet.”
“Fine, I can understand that. Do your soldiers get time off?”
“Yes they do.”
“Right, then I expect you to take time off as well. On your next leave I look forward to you coming home in more ways than one,” She said with a devilish grin. “I love you and would like to hear more, but I’ve had enough for one day. Finding out my dog speaks better English than I do and my husband now looks like a Greek god version of the jolly green giant is a bit overwhelming. I think I’ll have a drink now.”
Natasha jumped up from the floor and went to the bar, “I’ll get right on it.”
Pam asked, “How are you going to make drinks?”
Natasha replied, “I have hidden opposable thumbs…Vodka Crantini?”
As Natasha made drinks, Pam asked, “So before I sit down with the new Natasha and have a much needed drink, when were you going to tell me about this? I understand some secrets should stay secret in a marriage but this one is pretty tough to hide.”
> “In all honesty, I didn’t know when would be a good time to bring it up. I didn’t want you to worry.”
“That’s very kind and thoughtful, but you’re in the wrong my love. Now that I know what’s happening, don’t worry about the home front, I’ve got you covered. Sort out what you need to, but if the troops need time off, so do you. Come home when you can. I love you no matter what color you are.”
Chapter 23 - The Ultimate solution for NSA
“That went well.” Marc said.
“All in all, it went about as well as it could, considering what I just dropped on her. Let’s figure out how to deal with the NSA; then I think it would be a good idea if we both spent a weekend with our families to remind us of why we are doing this.”
I asked Mother, “Can you call up all suspected NSA alien collaborators based on what we found out from the NSA Director?”
“No problem, why don’t you grab a drink and I’ll have something to present in five minutes.”
“Mother, I’m surprised you’re slipping, five minutes for prep?”
“The prep is for you not me; you won’t listen well if you’re hungry or needed a bio-break.” Come to think about it, I was hungry again.
I went to kitchen by way of the bathroom, grabbed a small snack - a full roasted chicken, a dish of pasta, a 16oz New York cut, a large cob salad, a big plate of steamed vegetables, a bottle of wine and a couple of beers. The wine was French and tasted wonderful with the steak and pasta. The beer - well everyone knows beer goes with everything. I was half expecting, with all the food I needed to match my energy expenditures, that I would lose my appreciation for good food. Quite the opposite - I savored every bite. I don’t know where Mother learned to cook, but she was a match for any five star restaurant. If this is what I needed as a snack, it would be something to watch me eat when I’m hungry. Maybe the zero point energy module was not such a bad idea after all. Then again, there was no point in being more alien than I already was. Having to eat reminded me that part of me was still human.