FreeForm: An Alien Invasion Romance Series (FreeForm Series Book 1)

by Orrin Jason Bradford

  Oliver squeezed out of the chair and backed away from the bed, reaching for the 45 as he did so. What was happening? He must be having a nightmare. What was happening in front of him was impossible. But even as he had the thoughts, he knew he was not asleep. His mind flashed back to a night over ten years ago — the glowing ship, the wounded deer, the explosion, and the cover-up. He knew what he was witnessing was all connected. It had not gone away. Although it had been successfully covered up by the agency and the bureaucracy, it had continued to fester like a malignant abscess. An abscess now coming to a head.

  The half-man, half-beast noticed for the first time he was not alone in the room. His hate-filled eyes met Oliver's for a brief moment. The two locked gazes; time stopped. If looks could kill, Oliver would have exploded on the spot. Instead, he came to an immediate decision. Nothing so vile and hateful should live. Not on this planet. Not here on earth. Not if he could help it. He could.

  Oliver raised the 45 and took aim. The form continued to alter in front of him as he gazed down the barrel. It had lost all resemblance to a man by the time Oliver squeezed the trigger four times. All four slugs struck the struggling form in the chest. A bluish-red blood flowed from each wound and down onto the white sheets. The alien continued to struggle for another minute or two as its life forces ebbed.

  Only when the last throes were complete did Oliver pick up the phone. He waited for the front desk to answer.

  "I want to report a murder,” he said calmly into the receiver. "Please send security to room 444 and call the police." Not waiting for a reply, he placed the receiver back in its cradle. He stared at the still form. Thank God it hadn't changed back into the human form. That would have been difficult to explain. He had enough explaining to do as it was.

  FDA Confrontation

  Monday 6:00 a.m., Dec. 6

  Homlin hung up the phone. Everything back at Biogentrix was all set. A line of twenty trucks, each filled with insulated shipping crates housing anywhere from six to twelve individual FreeForm larvae, sat inside the grounds of the lab waiting for the signal to roll. Once the papers were signed, the trucks would be free to deliver their cargo. Some of them would hit the road carrying their packages across the country. About half of them would travel to various shipping and postal agencies including the Federal Government Postal Service.

  Within forty-eight hours, FreeForm would be thoroughly circulating through the arteries of the country. The FreeForm would be irretrievable and there'd be no turning back, no stopping the infiltration. It would take another four to six weeks for the FreeForm larvae to begin to be nursed along by the hundreds of research facilities, but it would be impossible to stop the process. Researchers were too unpredictable, too difficult to stop once they had a new toy like FreeForm to play with. Even if the Federal agencies realized what was happening and tried to stop it, the dissemination would be too far along to stop the development of thousands of the larvae. Homlin had seen it often before, on other planets. The next few hours were the critical juncture. How long it took for FreeForm to overcome the planet might vary by several weeks, but the final outcome was inevitable.

  Time to shower and get dressed. Today was a big day for his people. His ten years on this planet had all been leading up to this day. He intended to enjoy every minute of it. As he turned the water on, he wondered if Vogt and Pritchard would dare to show up at the meeting. His bets were on them doing just that. He would actually be disappointed if they didn't try some last ditch effort. Let them come, Homlin thought, lathering himself with soap. This time he was prepared for Vogt. He wouldn't underestimate her again.

  The trucks will roll despite all of Vogt's efforts and most important of all, Vogt and Pritchard will have played their best card without winning the hand. And he would make sure it was the last card of the last hand they would ever play against him again.

  Monday 7:30 am

  Pat slipped into the passenger seat of the rental car next to Allan. The warm interior of the car felt good but still, she found she couldn't stop shivering.

  "There's no way to get the Ouzzie or any other type of firearm in there,” she said as she closed the door. "There are security stations at every door with metal detectors. At least this means we'll be on even terms. No guns for us and none for Homlin. I'll settle for those odds."

  "It also means we'll have to depend on our evidence to stop him,” Allan pointed out.

  "He's not getting the okay to go ahead with his plans. He's just not. Evidence or no evidence, we've got to stop him right here, right now." Pat's determination came through clinched teeth.

  As she finished speaking, a black Lincoln Continental pulled up to the curb thirty yards in front of them and out stepped Dr. Fredric Homlin dressed in a black wool coat and carrying a matching briefcase.

  "My doesn't he look dapper this morning,” Pat said with crystals of sarcasm in her voice. "No one would ever suspect, would they?"

  "Looks just like hundreds of other professional people coming to work on Monday after a pleasant weekend with the family,” Allan agreed as he cut the car engine off. "Shall we follow him?"

  "Give him just a few seconds to get ahead,” Pat replied. "I wonder where his entourage is? I don't like that he's by himself."

  "The odds are more in our favor if it comes down to anything physical,” Allan pointed out.

  "True." Pat said, but she was unconvinced. "Where do you think his bodyguards could be?" Pat asked, a worried look knitting her brow. "Well, let's just consider maybe luck is starting to shine on us," she said after a moment. "Let's go stop an alien."

  Before getting out of the car, she slid the machine gun under the front seat and removed her revolver. She suddenly felt naked and defenseless without it. She reminded herself that Homlin would be without any firearms as well. But not defenseless, her mind reminded her. He could quickly transform himself to a brutal killing machine. One more than capable of killing her, Allan, and no telling how many others if need be. Their best chance would be to jump him before he had the opportunity to change. It was going to be an interesting morning.

  As Homlin disappeared inside the federal building, Allan and Pat strolled behind him towards the same doors. As they entered the building, Pat suddenly worried the security guards would stop them from following Homlin if they didn't have proper papers giving them entry but was relieved to find that no such surveillance was taking place. The checkpoint seemed only to keep weapons outside.

  Homlin continued through the security station, unaware or concerned with whether he was being followed. He's too damn cocky, Pat thought. No bodyguards, not the least bit concerned about being followed. He must know Allan and I are somewhere around. He should care. He should be sneaking around or be surrounded by his gorillas. Pat's alarm system which had been finely honed over the last ten or fifteen years blared loudly.

  Nothing she could do about it. There was nothing else to do but follow him to the meeting room. Maybe he had sent his gorillas on ahead or maybe they were at this very moment closing in on Allan and her. Despite herself, Pat glanced behind her at dozens of indifferent faces, governmental executives coming to work on Monday morning, bored, dead, unenthusiastic about their jobs, but no signs of anyone threatening the two of them.

  "What are you looking for?" Allan whispered as they walked through the security check.

  "I don't know. I don't have a good feeling about this. He's too confident, too assured. He should be nervous. Where the hell are the rest of his people?" Pat whispered back.

  ''I'd tell you to calm down except I notice I can't get my knees to stop knocking myself."

  "Oh hell. Did you remember to bring the photos?"

  Allan held up the briefcase. "Everything is in here."

  Pat breathed a little easier. Allan's calm demeanor worked. She noticed the tension ease a little. Then she had a sudden thought. What if Homlin's meeting wasn't on the first floor? How would they be able to follow him? She couldn't imagine stepping in the same eleva
tor with him. They could lose him and not find him for hours. She then noticed a directory between the elevator doors they were approaching. FDA offices were on the fourth floor. The letters she'd photocopied had been on FDA letterhead.

  She watched as Homlin stepped into one of the waiting elevators.

  "Now what do we do?" Allan asked as Homlin's elevator door closed.

  "We take a risk and go to the fourth floor," Pat said as she pointed to the directory. "And pray all the FDA offices are on the same floor."

  They filed into the crowded elevator and requested the fourth floor. They stopped at every floor on the way up. As they stepped out on the fourth floor, Pat glanced down the hall in both directions. At first she didn't see Homlin and her breath caught in her throat. Then a man in a gray suit stepped to one side, and there was Homlin strolling down the hall. He stopped half way down and entered one of the offices to the right.

  "Bingo." Pat pointed in the direction Homlin had disappeared. "We'll wait out here for a few minutes and see who else enters. There's no hurry now that we know where he is."

  Allan nodded.

  In the next ten minutes, five other men exited from the elevator, strolled down the hall, and entered the same office Homlin had disappeared into. Five more minutes went by. Pat glanced at her watch. 8:00 a.m. on the dot.

  "Should we go in?" Allan asked as the hallways began to clear.

  "No, we'll wait for the meeting to get under way a bit. I want Homlin to think he's home free before we pay our visit."

  "I wish I had a cigarette,” Allan said.

  "Silly, you don't smoke."

  "It seems like a good time to take it up."

  Allan sat down on a cushioned bench stationed between the elevator doors under another directory.

  Pat continued to pace up and down the hallway, too nervous to sit. She continued to glance at her watch. Finally, at 8:10 she walked over to where Allan was sitting.

  "I don't think anyone else is going to arrive for the meeting. They should be under way by now. I don't want them signing whatever they're planning to sign while we wait outside. Let's go see what we can stir up."

  With a heavy sigh, Allan stood up and grasped the handle of the briefcase. "I'm with you all the way." He gave her a reassuring smile.

  ''Thanks, it makes a lot of difference,” Pat replied. They turned and walked down the hall.

  All eyes turned to the door as Pat and Allan stepped into the meeting room.

  "I'm sorry but this is a private..." One of the men seated at the long table across from Homlin started to say.

  "I know what the meeting is," Pat interrupted, walking straight towards Homlin. "I have evidence to file against this 'man.'" The note of sarcasm on the last word was unmistakable.

  "Why, if it isn't Ms. Vogt and her trained vet." Homlin said as he stood up, a twisted smile of unconcern on his face. "Do come in and join us. You say you have something to contribute to this discussion?"

  "We most certainly do." Allan stepped between Pat and Homlin. He glared at Homlin for several seconds before breaking eye contact and turning his attention to the five men sitting on the other side of the table.

  "This man must not be allowed to transport anything from Biogentrix,” Allan said as he opened his briefcase and pulled a file folder from it. "We have evidence here which proves that he is an enemy of this country. For that matter, he is a threat to all mankind. We must not play into his hands by allowing him to spread his seeds across this country."

  "What on earth are you talking about?" One of the other men asked as he picked up the folder and began leafing through it.

  "The material you have in your hands is a compilation of reports uncovering the most diabolical plot to overthrow this and every other government in the world," Pat spoke up. "I have been following this 'man' for the past ten years. Ever since he tried to kill me on the interstellar ship which brought him to this world.

  "Some of those papers are the few official reports that were not destroyed by B.I.U.F.O. when the landing site of an alien spaceship was investigated. I was on the investigation team. I was the only one who actually saw the alien that was on the ship. This being," she said pointing to Homlin, "is attempting to get permission to disseminate the larval form of his race across this country."

  "This is the most preposterous story I have ever heard." A second man spoke up as he grabbed some of the papers out of the folder and began leafing through it.

  Homlin stood calmly studying Pat and Allan, shaking his head.

  "Gentlemen, be calm. I'm afraid this poor lady has indeed been following me for many years ever since she was released from B.I.U.F.O. for being mentally incompetent. For some reason, I've never quite understood why, she picked me out of nowhere to be a major player in her little fantasy. For the most part, I've humored her. Occasionally when it has gotten out of hand, I've had to have one of my employees take action.

  ''It's unfortunate that she is so unstable. She seems to have found a second mental case to keep her company. Perhaps, Dr. Harrison, if you would be so kind as to call security so we could proceed with our meeting."

  "I'd be happy to,” Dr. Harrison said as he picked up the phone.

  "Not so damn fast,” Pat yelled. At the same moment Allan lunged across the table and knocked the phone out of Harrison's hand. "Look at the damn papers. It's all there. This is not a man, and FreeForm is not what you think it is. I know it sounds crazy, but there is at least enough evidence there for you to open an investigation. You can't possibly ignore..."

  Two of the other council members pulled Allan away from Harrison. Harrison picked the phone up off the floor. "Send security to room 422 immediately. It's an emergency."

  Pat started around the table where the two men were still struggling to keep Allan away from Harrison but found her way blocked by Homlin and one of the other council members. The odds were not looking good. No one had even bothered to look at their evidence. Her story was simply too far fetched. True or not, it was just too much for anyone to take seriously. What good would it be to try to overpower the committee? It certainly wouldn't persuade them to consider her story. Homlin obviously had them eating out of his hands.

  Pat stopped a few feet away from Homlin and the other man. Her mind raced. What were the chances of strangling Homlin on the spot? No chance. Homlin looked to be a pretty even match to begin with, and she doubted the other five men would stand around and watch someone be murdered.

  She was still staring at Homlin when she heard the door behind her open. It seemed security in this building was damn quick. Pat turned towards the door as a large man in a rumpled suit entered the room, followed by four men in military uniforms. Each of the four men carried revolvers pointed towards the ceiling but in readiness to pull down in a deadly aim at any instant.

  "Hold everything right there,” the man in the rumpled suit shouted. The two men who had been struggling with Allan froze, then relaxed their grip on him. Allan yanked himself away from them.

  "Oliver! It's so good to see you again,” Pat said. "Thanks for bringing the cavalry."

  "No problem, Pat. It's the least I owed you after all these years,” Oliver replied. "Which one is the alien?"

  "Well, that one for sure." Pat pointed to Homlin. "And I wouldn't be surprised if we didn't have a few more in here."

  "What?" Allan and Oliver asked at the same time.

  "It suddenly dawned on me during the excitement where Homlin's body guards were." Pat turned and met Allan's puzzled look. "What better way to assure the meeting would be a success than having the voters completely on your side."

  "Oliver, I strongly suggest you take the entire committee under custody. I imagine it won't be too hard to figure out who is and who isn't human."

  "With pleasure, men, place everyone except the lady under arrest."

  "Oh, Oliver, not that one there,” Pat said, pointing to Allan. "He's with me." She winked in Allan's direction then started towards him.

  As Pat
walked by Homlin there was a sudden blur of motion as Homlin yanked Pat in front of him, shielding himself from the aim of the marksmen with her body. He grabbed her with his left arm around her shoulders. As he brought his right hand to her throat, the hand melted into an animal-like paw with six razor-sharp claws, each one pressed against the tender flesh of Pat's throat.

  "No one move, or I will have no choice but to kill this lovely specimen,” Homlin shouted as he backed himself against the wall, pulling Pat with him. He slithered his way along the wall in the direction of the door. "Put your weapons down, now!"

  Oliver nodded to his men who did as they were instructed.

  “You can't possibly get out of here,” Oliver said as he took a step in Homlin's direction.

  "Don't be so sure,” Homlin replied. "Now, kick one of those revolvers over here. Nice and easy. I warn you. I'll rip her throat out if anyone makes a stupid move."

  Oliver did as he was told. Homlin continued to pull Pat toward the door, stopping a foot or two from the gun lying on the floor.

  "Easy, everyone,” Homlin said as Allan took a step towards him. Homlin stooped down and picked up the revolver. When he had it in his left hand, he stuck it into Pat's ribs just below her left breast but continued to hold her against his body with the sharp claws of his other hand.

  "Now everyone back away from the door and lie face down on the floor." Everyone complied except four of the five committee members who remained standing.

  When everyone was finally on the floor, Homlin took the last couple of steps to the door. He stared at each of the men as though contemplating whether to chance shooting them in the back of the head.

  Homlin looked at the four men who were still standing. "You're on your own. Your last assignment from me is to be sure I'm not followed for several minutes. Is that clear?"