Overlord

by David L. Golemon

  “Daddy, what is it?” Brandon asked, wanting to pull his father away from the frightening scene.

  Before Jim had a chance to answer, something uncurled and stood from the inside of the strange craft. It had a large, thin body and as it rose to its full height, Jim thought that he had had enough hiking for the day. He turned with his boys in tow and he came face-to-face with another of the things. The helmet it wore was a dark purple but that didn’t stop Jim from seeing the horror that was behind the visor. The eyes were black and ringed in yellow, a brightness of color that frightened Jim beyond measure. The tall being was holding a large pole half as long as its entire body in its gloved right hand. The other hand reached down nearly to the being’s knees, which were turned backward.

  Jim pushed at the boys and they quickly ran past the strange creature. Brandon was crying and Bobby was admonishing him and his father to hurry. As they cleared the woods they came to a screeching stop only fifty yards from the small lake. Over three hundred of the creatures were lining the shoreline or emerging from the water. It seemed every one of them was looking right at the three humans.

  A low moan escaped the lips of Jim Macdonald as the Grays approached. He almost fell to his knees as the closest one removed the helmet that had been covering the worst feature of all—the head.

  As the sun set over the small lake in the even smaller park, the humans’ screams echoed through the area. Then the Grays moved off toward the north—toward Camp David.

  CAMP DAVID

  FREDERICK, MARYLAND

  The leaders of the world broke into several small groups as they sent out their alert orders; the military establishments, not understanding the entire plan, moved to protect their nations. Coffee and tea were brought in but many, including the president, chose to have something a little stronger—after all it wasn’t every day that the entire world acted as one in a matter of life and death. The president secured his drink as he approached Niles, Jack, and Carl. He was soon joined by the Chinese president with his cup of tea in hand. He spoke before the president could.

  “Colonel Collins, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.” He sipped his tea and then smiled. “As I understand it, you were quite instrumental in securing the technology in South America. I must say the report that your president gave all of us read like an American adventure novel.”

  “Thank you, sir, but I’m sure it was nothing that thrilling,” Collins said.

  “Still, it was enough for my military people to concur with these men that you are the right person for the mission at hand.” He smiled again, then nodded at Niles and Everett and moved away to sit and talk with his counterparts.

  “I suppose you are at least curious as to what that mission may entail, Colonel?”

  “All I can hope is that it’s something that will assist you in this massive undertaking,” Jack answered.

  The president took a sip of the watered-down whiskey and nodded at Niles Compton.

  “I’ll leave it to your director to explain as much as he is able. I’m sorry the whole picture cannot be painted for you, Colonel, and Captain,” he said, looking at Carl. “But as you know, we still like our secrets around here. Hell, we would all die if we didn’t keep something in the dark—after all, we’re politicians.” He moved away with a smirk at Niles.

  “Captain, you are hereby transferred to a location in Houston for training at the request of one of our leading engineers at NASA. Your transport is waiting outside.” Niles held out his hand to Everett, his eyes going from his face to the wristwatch he was wearing on his right hand. Carl shook. “Godspeed, Admiral,” he said as he handed Everett a small box. Carl opened it and saw two stars. He was shocked. “I’m afraid it’s only a temporary-grade promotion, but it was needed for you to command who it is you’ll be commanding.” Everett looked at Collins.

  “Congratulations … sir,” he said with a smile as he too shook his friend’s hand.

  Carl was speechless.

  “And these are for you, General Collins. Same brevet rank, I’m afraid,” Niles continued without a hitch.

  Jack opened the box and saw the two stars of a major general. He too was shocked.

  “Believe me, when I heard you went to Washington, I thought we had lost the opportunity to see the faces you are wearing right now.”

  “I don’t understand, why—”

  “It’s not your place to understand, General. And don’t think that you no longer work for me, because when this is over you both are going to be returned to Group at your former pay-grades.”

  Niles smiled and then removed his glasses. “Jack, you will be working with the finest men in your field. It will be a fast-reaction force designed to protect the asset known as Overlord. I cannot give you details, but it will be up to you and your unit to give us the time we need. To give Carl the time he needs to fight back.”

  The two officers were as confused as ever.

  “Jack, we assembled men from Special Forces around the world; some of them you have worked with before and have been assigned to you. Carl”—he faced Everett—“learn fast, get through your training, and save the fucking world.”

  “Niles, we—”

  He held up his hand with his glasses still clenched in his fingers, stopping Jack’s question.

  “Will Mendenhall, or should I say, Captain Mendenhall, will join you as your aide. He’s waiting outside. You will also take Colonel Farbeaux with you as your adjutant.” Again he held up his hand when Collins started to protest. “Jack, he’s the best the French have and they saw fit to give him to us, thus saving his life. They wanted to hang him, after all.”

  Niles relaxed and then shook his head.

  “I wish I were going with you, but know this: at Group we are going to help you in every way that we can. You know our people, we will find a way. Good luck … my friends.”

  Niles Compton turned away quickly as he choked up.

  Both men looked down at their new brevet ranks and then both looked up. It was Everett who broke the uneasy silence.

  “I would give a year’s pay to see old Henri’s face when you tell him, Jack.”

  “Admiral, you know what?” he asked.

  “What, General Collins?” he said with his smile growing.

  “You can kiss this old ground-pounder’s two-star ass.”

  EVENT GROUP COMPLEX

  NELLIS AIR FORCE BASE, NEVADA

  Matchstick was sitting beside Gus’s bed. The old prospector was exhausted as his age was really starting to show. He was dozing as the small alien watched from his chair. The small feet dangled three feet off the ground as Matchstick reached out and took the old man’s hand and lightly squeezed. Gus’s eyes fluttered open and then closed, but in that brief moment he felt the presence of his small green friend. He relaxed, then slept more soundly.

  Earlier, long before Matchstick had been introduced to the men at Camp David, Dr. Denise Gilliam and Virginia Pollock had sat the small being down and explained for the first time how tired Gus truly was. Matchstick had blinked several times in his fight to understand what it was they were telling him.

  “You fix Gus, like you fix Mahjtic?”

  Denise and the best medical men and women in the country had saved Matchstick from the growing fate of his race. His body had been overwhelmed by pollutants from his home planet, but with the perseverance of the medical staff they were able to control all of the infectious materials inside the green alien’s body. They suspected they had saved his life from one of pain and death. They had no such hope of saving the old prospector. Gus was old beyond his years and was slowly letting go of this life in his own ornery way.

  Virginia had kneeled beside Mahjtic and looked into the large, obsidian eyes.

  “Gus is old and tired. This is the way of our race. The reward for being us is the chance to rest and sleep. We here at Group do not yet understand your belief system on your home world, but we sense…” She stopped and thought a moment, then corrected herself. “N
o, we believe that once you die, you are allowed to see and be with the ones that you loved in life. I believe that you and Gus will be together again. Right now he’s just tired and old.”

  “Gus, die?” Mahjtic said as his eyes rapidly opened and closed, the eyelids sliding inward from the side of his head. “You cannot fix?”

  “Gus has lived a long life,” Denise offered as she started to choke up.

  Matchstick had simply lowered his head, then wrapped one arm around Virginia’s neck and one around the leg of Denise. That was when the two highly trained doctors broke down and cried. Matchstick and the two women had stayed that way for the longest time before they left the two friends alone. Matchstick was content to sit and watch Gus breathe contentedly in his sleep.

  A light knock sounded on the door and Mahjtic eased the old man’s hand from his own and hopped from the large chair. The Group had placed them inside the quarters they usually reserved for the president of the United States on his frequent visits to the Group. The small apartment was well appointed and Gus had complained to no end about the accommodation, but had finally relented. The small alien made his way to the door and pulled it open. He blinked several times as the light in the curving, circular, plastic-lined hallway struck his eyes. He saw Pete Golding and Charlie Ellenshaw standing there smiling. Charlie leaned into the darkened room and saw that Gus was fast asleep.

  “Uh, we thought since you were introduced to the Overlord security council gathered at Camp David this afternoon, you may want to come down into the computer center to watch the president address the nation and the world,” Pete whispered.

  Charlie and Pete saw a concerned look cross the alien’s features and then he tilted his head.

  “From where?” Matchstick asked.

  The two brilliant men were confused as Matchstick quickly stepped from the guest quarters and into the hallway. With one last look back at Gus he eased the door closed.

  “We will watch in the—” Pete started to answer.

  “Where … president speak?” he asked hurriedly.

  “They haven’t left Camp David; I imagine the speech will take place there,” Pete finally answered.

  If it were possible, Pete and Charlie would have sworn Matchstick’s face drained of color.

  “Any … broadcast … to … the … public … will … be … in … the … clear … not … like … the closed … communication … with … us. The Grays will … triangulate … and know … they have … been … discovered … they will … know … where … the president is!”

  Suddenly Matchstick turned and ran for the two pneumatic elevator banks and waved Charlie and Pete forward while crying out.

  “No, no, no, must stop, must stop, must stop!”

  The two men watched as Mahjtic vanished into the elevator and then they both hurriedly followed.

  GEORGETOWN, MARYLAND

  Speaker of the House Giles Camden watched the president as he was being broadcast live from an undisclosed location. The senator’s eyes studied the other men seated to the president’s right and left, with the flags of their various nations behind them; centered in the middle was the blue flag of the United Nations. Camden had listened to the president’s explanation concerning the Russian assault on Iran. He thought the man actually looked pleased that he had set up the Russians for an eventual takeover of that region. Another reason for the need to get this maniac out of office—he was losing control of everything from his military to the influence of the U.S. when it came to gathering new allies in the hectic Middle East.

  Camden had excused his aides before the speech had started to allow him and Daniel Peachtree to sit alone. He was free to speak his mind now that his young aides were visibly absent. Peachtree, with his recent failure in the Hiram Vickers fiasco still vivid in not only his but Camden’s minds, sat silent when the Speaker of the House again started his ranting about the president.

  “And let me tell you one thing, if he thinks his entire military is backing him he is sorely mistaken. I didn’t spend all those years in the senate not making friends myself! I have plenty of generals and admirals, people that are not happy with the unplanned, unfettered spending that’s happening!”

  “You still are not onboard with the president’s plan for defending the planet, even though all these world leaders are? I mean hell, Mr. Speaker, most of them are as big a hawk as yourself. The new Chinese president is a known right-wing fanatic and he believes what his scientists and the president have outlined.”

  “Yeah?” Camden snapped his head around to look at the assistant director of Operations of the CIA. “And what about the report that emerged from your own boss at Langley that said the president had been instrumental in bringing that nut in China into power, after being a cohort in the previous chairman’s assassination after the moon landings?”

  “That is speculative at best. We have no proof of that. It may have been a military coup because the former chairman was not pleased with the money spent on going to the moon last year. That was why he was … well … removed.”

  On the screen the president was in the middle of explaining the events that had taken place in the desert sands of Arizona back in 2006. He had finally admitted to the world that the famous Roswell incident had really happened, and thanks to that episode they had the ability now to fight back. And he was warning the world that a fight was indeed coming—and now he had the leadership of the most powerful nations on Earth backing him. Camden saw no way to stop the massive spending that was going on and the president knew that—that was why this very press conference was taking place.

  Assistant Director Peachtree rolled his eyes at the Speaker’s ranting. As he looked at the television screen he saw that the president had life-sized cutouts of a small Green, and a rather aggressive and very much taller Gray. He swallowed as he looked on. As for Camden, he scoffed at the likenesses of the aliens as the president explained the difference between the two races. Peachtree wanted desperately to get out of there and get out west to track down that bastard Hiram Vickers before he was caught and spilled his guts on what he and Camden knew. That was what was worrying him, not the president and his no-longer hidden and secret agenda.

  “As of right now, we and the rest of the world are destined to go broke because these fools believe in fairy tales!” Camden bellowed.

  As for Daniel Peachtree, he didn’t think the man on television was bluffing. He was beginning to get a little frightened.

  EVENT GROUP COMPLEX

  NELLIS AIR FORCE BASE, NEVADA

  Charlie Ellenshaw and Pete Golding were right behind Matchstick when he burst into the computer center. Europa had the president’s address to the world on most of the large monitors that ringed the large room. They watched him run down the flight of stairs in the amphitheater-style arrangement and streak toward the weather-recon section. Mahjtic looked up at the computer-generated vision of the world and watched it intently. Most of the planet seemed calm to Pete’s eyes as he and Charlie finally managed to catch up to the small alien.

  “Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” Pete asked as he finally managed to get some of his breath back after the long sprint down to the center. Many of the one hundred computer techs moved their eyes from the president on television to the commotion on the main floor.

  “No, no, no, no,” was all Matchstick said as his large eyes centered on the eastern portion of the United States.

  It was Charlie Ellenshaw who understood first. He leaned over and spoke to Pete, who finally registered the relief he wanted after Matchstick had frightened him so.

  “Matchstick, the president and the council are safe. No weather patterns that would indicate a wormhole are anywhere near the Washington area. Besides, their people and Niles have the information needed to detect a strike. They know what to look for.”

  Mahjtic ignored Pete as his eyes continued to scan the area of the East Coast. Finally the alien sat at Pete’s desk and brought the Cray Supercomputer to life.

>   “Europa?” he said with his strange but now stronger voice.

  “Good evening, Mahjtic, how can I help you today?” The computer’s voice program still sounded like Marilyn Monroe after eight years.

  Matchstick started to talk but in his excitement he couldn’t get the words out fast enough. He turned and started hitting keys on Pete’s computer at a blinding rate with his long, articulated fingers.

  IS THERE AN ION READING WITHIN THREE HUNDRED MILES OF MARYLAND? he asked quickly by keyboard. The words started springing up on the monitor.

  Pete and Charlie, along with many of the other techs, watched with curiosity.

  “There has not been any sign or reading that would indicate electrical activity in the vicinity of Maryland since nine A.M. eastern standard time,” Europa said.

  Matchstick closed his eyes. Then he sprang to life again and started banging on the keyboard.

  PLEASE, CAN YOU BACKTRACK AND SHOW ELECTRICAL ACTIVITY AT THAT TIME?

  On the main viewing screen the scene switched from the president and his Overlord Council to that of a swirling weather pattern that had only lasted a short time and then had cleared up. The swirling pattern was light and vanished almost as quickly as it had formed.

  “Now there, you see?” Charlie said. “That was no wormhole, Matchstick, it was a small pattern of rain clouds that wasn’t enough to compete with the regular morning dew.”

  Matchstick turned and faced Charlie. “It formed … from almost … nothing,” Mahjtic protested. “It is … possibly … a raid!”

  “But Matchstick,” Pete said as more technicians started to surround them because they had detected the fear in the alien’s voice, “that brief weather cycle was not big enough for a wormhole. The ship transiting it would have had to have been far smaller than anything we have ever encountered, or any you have warned us about in your briefings.”