Overlord

by David L. Golemon

  “Alissssss,” Matchstick hissed. His right hand went to the eighty-seven-year-old’s cheek and his index finger caressed it.

  Alice smiled and then kissed Matchstick on the cheek. Thus far Gus Tilly and Sarah McIntire were the only two people Matchstick allowed to kiss him. The rest, well, he figured a hug was good enough. Alice Hamilton saw that Mahjtic was wearing the smallest military blue jumpsuit she had ever seen. She looked at Will Mendenhall, who was watching them. She nodded her head, suspecting it was the young lieutenant who was responsible for outfitting the alien. She could see that Matchstick loved dressing like the soldiers. She gently placed him in his seat next to Gus, whom she patted on the shoulder lightly; then she leaned in and kissed his grizzled cheek. He swiped at the spot and shook his head. She smiled anyway and then took her accustomed chair next to the director, who sat opposite Virginia Pollock, Niles’s number two at the Group.

  Matchstick pumped up his chair’s riser until his eyes were seen over the tabletop, and then he waited. It had been over six months since he had visited the complex and the small being knew he caused a stir with Event Group personnel every time he showed up. Mahjtic had been adopted by every human he had ever been introduced to.

  “Okay, first off, welcome, Gus and Matchstick. It’s been too long,” Niles said as he stood and nodded at the old man. “I’m glad we could dig you out of that mine shaft for a while.”

  “Well, I’m a little more comfortable since the first time I visited this place. Never liked the thought of all that unstable sand above your heads.” He looked around the large conference room. “But I guess if it hasn’t all caved in by now it’s not goin’ to.”

  All the department heads nodded their approval of Gus’s claustrophobia, especially knowing he had spent most of his life in one cave or mine shaft after the other. He was just mad at being uprooted from his home and flown to Nevada.

  Niles nodded in understanding as he moved right into the briefing.

  “Before we get to the suspicions of Matchstick and the conclusions he’s drawn, let’s focus on current events that will lead into our friend’s speculation. Virginia, what is the disposition of the field teams assigned to finding Matchstick’s power plant?”

  Virginia Pollock cleared her throat and then glanced at her notes. Niles could see she wasn’t really happy with what it was she had to report.

  “Not good. All fourteen teams have come up with nothing.” She nodded her head at Matchstick, who was holding the hand of his best friend, Gus, and listening intently to every word. “I’m afraid none of the crash sites mentioned in Matchstick’s briefing of four years ago have been uncovered or even documented. The one crash site we had the highest hopes for was the area in which Sarah McIntire’s team in Azerbaijan covered fully, but even that led to a big fat zero.” She saw Matchstick lower his lightbulb-shaped head.

  Niles sat into his chair and quickly made a decision. “Okay, double the teams and then cover the fourteen sites again. Use a fine-tooth comb, Virginia.”

  “Niles, we’ll have to take some of our science department personnel to cover that order.”

  “Then do it—we have to find a power plant from a downed saucer. Every attempt at getting the engines of the Roswell saucers operational has met with failure. Matchstick said that the fuel rods inside the engines have been drained fully. That, ladies and gentlemen, is that. The search for the original saucer from 1947 has turned up nothing. We suspect that the Centauris Corporation dismantled it and spread its parts to the winds. Our house guest in Leavenworth, Kansas, is not cooperating with us any longer, for what reason we do not know.”

  “Maybe he should be reminded of his obligations to the country,” Will Mendenhall ventured. “I’ll go to Kansas and explain it to him personally if you want,” he said with a smirk.

  “As much as I would like to see that, we haven’t the time.”

  Mendenhall looked slightly disappointed at not being able to explain things directly to prisoner Charles Hendrix II, the former CEO of Centauris.

  Niles nodded his head at the navy communication man sitting at the Europa terminal. On the sixty-five-inch-monitor in the middle of even more, smaller monitors, the satellite image of the event in Lebanon came into full view. “Okay, Charlie Ellenshaw has Matchstick’s report and his conclusions. Doctor?”

  Charlie Ellenshaw cleared his throat and stood. He nodded his head at Gus and Mahjtic and then walked toward the large screen.

  “What it all boils down to, Mr. Director, is the fact that Matchstick is a firm believer that this is not an extraterrestrial event, or a Gray assault. He thinks the disappearance of the resort is due to someone on this planet having an operational alien power plant.”

  This started everyone talking at once. Niles held up his right hand for silence. He nodded at Ellenshaw to continue, but his eyes studied the small alien who was watching the startled faces around him.

  Every monitor around the circular conference room illuminated with photos of events throughout history. On the main viewing screen was the shot of a barren plain in the north of Scotland.

  “Mass disappearances throughout human history,” Charlie began. “Many here, after the Roswell event, will say that most vanishings, like this one in Scotland of Rome’s Ninth Legion, could be blamed on everything from E.T.”—he smiled at Matchstick, who looked confused as to the reference—“to earth eruptions that swallowed everything whole, to gravity fluctuation, meaning that gravity just gave way in a lot of these instances.”

  Matchstick watched the faces of the group and was pleased to see that Charlie had gained their attention.

  “Matchstick said many times in his two thousand hours of debriefing that one of the effects of forming a wormhole was a time displacement occurrence that will happen if a vehicle using the time warp exits before it reaches its targeted area. In other words, at a precise moment in the traveler’s itinerary the vehicle can jump from the wormhole and hit its target area of the planet but come out in a different time period from the target he was originally seeking. This is what Matchstick claims is happening. Someone on this world has an operational power plant and is experimenting with the wormhole effect, thus the mass disappearances throughout time are occurring. They don’t know what they have on their hands.”

  “I suspect whoever has it may be attempting to use it as a weapon,” Jack said, offering a military solution.

  “I agree on that point,” Charlie said as he moved to the next photo in line. “The United Nations science team investigating the resort area has found some unusual soil samples. The sand had turned to glass. Tremendous heat, and then nothing of the resort was left. I am beginning to think like Matchstick, that this was no accident. Someone targeted the wormhole for that area of the planet.”

  “But how can Matchstick automatically eliminate the Grays? Can’t they be responsible as an opening prelude to an attack?” Virginia asked.

  Everyone was taken back as Matchstick jumped upon the tabletop. He vigorously shook his head, then placed his hands over his small ear openings.

  “As you can see, Virginia, he adamantly does not think it is the Grays,” Ellenshaw said as he tried to explain Matchstick’s severe reaction to the question.

  “I don’t see how he can just reject the Gray theory out of hand; I mean, who would use that as a weapon against our own planet other than an attacking alien force?” Pete Golding asked Charlie.

  “Because … the Grays … know … not the theory … of … time displacement.” Matchstick looked around to make sure everyone heard his raspy voice. They had.

  “You mean to say that the Grays have had this wormhole technology for a million years and don’t know how it works?” Alice ventured.

  Matchstick nodded his head yes vigorously as he started to pace the tabletop.

  “Remember, everyone,” Charlie said, “the Grays are a master race of beings who depend solely on their slaves for technical work and teaching. They don’t know how their own technology wor
ks because the Greens have kept that little secret from them. And thank God they had the foresight to hide that little trick or we would have Grays bypassing our time frame and going after our far weaker ancestors in the past. Easy conquering of a world, wouldn’t you say?”

  Matchstick finally relaxed when he saw the looks of the scientists around him. They were starting to understand.

  “Charlie, have either you or Matchstick come up with a theory as to how this earthbound entity got their hands on an alien power plant without the rest of the world knowing it?” Niles asked.

  “I’m afraid we haven’t—at least not yet. Pete and I will be working closely with Gus and Matchstick in the next few days to see if we can come up with something.”

  Niles opened a folder and slid a paper across the table, where it landed at Mahjtic’s bare feet. Charlie picked up the printout and examined it. His eyes scanned the lines of numbers.

  “Start there,” Niles said.

  “What is this, Niles?” Ellenshaw enquired.

  “That was forwarded through the president’s office. The Mossad repaid some of the favors they owe our government and sent this along as an interesting event in and of itself.”

  “All I can see is that it’s an official energy output for a region inside. Of…” He looked at Niles and gave the paper to Matchstick, who also examined it. Charlie was unable to say anything in response to the report.

  “That’s right, inside the Iranian border—the eastern region. Evidently the Mossad believes they are using massive power outlays for something, and frankly it’s making them nervous.”

  “Nuclear weapons manufacture?” Jack Collins guessed.

  “We honestly do not know, Colonel. This may be a coincidence or it may be just what you suggested, Jack, but one thing is clear from Matchstick’s briefing reports: it takes more power to start up an alien power plant than we could ever believe. And if they do have one and are using their energy production to get it going they will soon be manufacturing the very by-product that Matchstick needs for Overlord. Both the engine and the expended fuel that is produced by that power plant are essential to the Overlord plan.” Niles looked around at his staff. “And as Matchstick has said to the few men and women in the know about it, Overlord is the only hope for the planet, because everything we have weapons-wise will only delay the inevitable.”

  Pete Golding stood and walked over to a monitor that had the area in question. The map of Iran was multishaded as it depicted the power consumption of each region under Iranian control. The highest output of energy came from the eastern region. The computer genius worked his index finger from the east to the north. He stabbed at the plastic screen, then went to the conference table and pulled out his field team briefing report. He shook his head.

  “What is it?” Niles asked.

  “The suspected saucer crash in 1972 in Russia—or the old Soviet Union. Look at its suspected track that the Russians have the UFO on before they fired on it.” Pete returned to the map and traced a red line with his fingertip all the way from Azerbaijan to the Iranian border. The trace line illuminated with Pete’s track. “I think we have found one of the crash sites.”

  “Whose field team investigated that possibility?” Compton asked as his hopes were raised.

  Will Mendenhall opened his security brief, then looked at Collins first before answering. It seemed the colonel was already aware of whose responsibility that investigation had been assigned to.

  “Uh, that would be Sarah McIntire’s team, sir,” Will finally answered.

  “What team is that in Israel?” the director asked.

  “That is Commander Ryan’s team. They also came up with nothing,” Will said as he studied his field team rosters.

  “Okay, transfer him and his people to McIntire’s team, get them added security, and then get them into Iran. If I have to supplement security with Special Forces from the president I’ll do it.” Niles exhaled loudly and then looked at his people. “Matchstick has informed Charlie that if this is the true case of Iran testing alien equipment they may have forced the Grays to an earlier attack scenario because they know what that power plant can do for us technology-wise.”

  “Mr. Director, that area is not secure enough to send anyone in. The Iranians would capture and execute anyone they catch. Even with their new moderate president they are still far from trusting,” Mendenhall said. Jack was appreciative of his pointing out the danger facet to the director.

  “Enough said. Contact the lieutenant and get her people moving. Set up a meet point for Ryan and his team to join her and then Will, I want you and security to come up with a plan to get them into the eastern region where someone thinks they have found lightning in a bottle. Okay, Matchstick and Gus will work closely with Pete, Virginia, Charlie, and Europa. We need to get a line on how to get that engine out of there if it’s there at all. I’ll brief the president.”

  “Request permission to join the Iranian team.”

  All eyes went to Jack as he stared directly at the director.

  “Denied,” Niles said matter-of-factly. “This meeting is adjourned for now. Alice and Colonel Collins, please remain behind.”

  As the Group members filed out of the conference room, Matchstick held Gus’s hand as he approached Jack. To the colonel it looked as if the small green being was empathizing with him over the danger Sarah McIntire was now facing. Jack just winked at the two as they turned and exited.

  When the room was cleared Alice placed her writing tablet down, then went to go get coffee for the three of them. Niles slid two folders down to Jack’s end of the table. Collins looked them over and saw that one was stamped with the seal of the United States Army, and one of the U.S. Navy.

  “What are these?” he asked, feeling his heart sink.

  “Yours and Mr. Everett’s orders. You have been transferred by the president for work on the Overlord plan. You’re being moved to the Pacific area of responsibility. Captain Everett goes to Texas. The president has refused to accept the captain’s resignation.”

  Jack remained silent, knowing that if anything in the Overlord plan called for him and Everett participating in the highly secretive plan, it was placed there by the man who was looking at him right now. Niles Compton and Matchstick, along with the late Garrison Lee and a few others in Britain, had come up with the extensive defensive plan called Overlord. He knew the director found the orders distasteful but was doing it anyway, even though Jack needed time to try and find his sister’s killer. He now knew that task might have to wait—a thought that he truly hated.

  “You realize that anything we do with Carl could be sending him to his doom in Antarctica two hundred thousand years ago?” Collins asked, refusing to even open the folder to see his new orders. “And all of this time-displacement theory from our little green friend points to Carl running into one of those exact scenarios.”

  “The plan calls for you being somewhere else, Jack, I’m sorry. The president insists we stick with every detail of Overlord, and that means you and Mr. Everett have to go no matter what may happen. Hopefully the captain’s duties in Houston will keep him far from Matchstick’s wormholes.”

  “What else?” Jack asked as Alice placed a cup of coffee in front of him. She glanced his way and gave him a sad twitch of her lips. He saw that Niles couldn’t meet his eyes as the lie about Carl was uttered. He was used to taking orders and obeying them to the last detail, but to knowingly send a man he respected and liked on a possible suicide mission was not something he would ever knowingly do. If it was the last thing he ever did he would warn his friend of the danger that Niles, Matchstick, and the late Senator Lee was sending him to.

  “Jack, as much as I want and need my military contingent the president needs them even more. You see the rioting and protests over the military budget the president is facing. There is even impeachment talk from the Speaker of the House. He needs his people and I can’t fault him. All military personnel will be reassigned to new duties for O
verlord concerns and any other military contingency that may arise. I’m sorry.”

  Jack cleared his throat as he needed to ask one last question of the director. “Lieutenant McIntire? Where will she be assigned?”

  “I don’t know, Jack. I really do not know.”

  Collins looked away for the briefest of moments. He was about to do something he swore he would never do—interfering with another military officer’s career.

  “Dr. Compt—” Jack looked into the director’s eyes. “Niles, I want you to insist that Sarah be formally discharged. I want her to stay at Group as a civilian department head.”

  “Jack, I—,”

  Collins held up his hand. “Please. She would be volunteering for any dangerous, stupid assignment the army saw fit to send her on. Please, Niles, pull whatever strings you have to, but keep Sarah inside the complex when all of this comes down. I need this one thing, Niles.”

  Compton looked from Jack to Alice. Jack looked her way for a brief second and then lowered his eyes.

  Niles studied Jack, then pursed his lips and slowly nodded.

  “I’ll insist we need her at Group, maybe we can do it without discharging her from the army. The president may accede to my wishes, but with everything that’s happening, I cannot promise anything, Jack.” Compton stood and with Alice in tow walked from the room.

  Jack Collins was stunned. He looked at the folders and knew that things had changed forever. How would he ever inform Sarah they would be separated for the war that was coming?

  Collins gathered up his orders and those of Captain Everett and started to rise when his cell phone chimed. He looked at the patch-through from Europa and his eyes narrowed. He stared at the brief text message that Europa had allowed through.

  KANSAS VENTURE PAID OFF JUST AS YOU HOPED. WE HAVE YOUR MAN.

  Jack’s lips became a long thin line etched with hatred. He saw the signature at the bottom and knew the information was true. The killer of his sister Lynn had been found. He glanced at the message and glanced at the signature once more.