Overlord

by David L. Golemon

  Matchstick became angry and turned on Pete.

  “The Grays … can come … through the wormhole in … capsules! You must … get the president and the … council out of … Camp David … now!”

  “I don’t understand what you’re telling us,” Pete said as Virginia Pollock entered the comp center after being alerted by security. She heard what the alien being was saying and waited for Charlie and Pete to explain.

  “They are here. They may have … connected to the … communications coming … from Camp David during the … raid in … Iran. They … know about the … engine … and now … the president’s … address … to the world … is being broadcast in the … clear. They know where the president … is and the power plant. They will move … on them and eliminate … the threat they pose.” Matchstick’s voice and speech pattern were clear and precise, but in his excitement certain words seemed to catch in his throat. He turned and stood up, looking again at the weather patterns the world over. His eyes widened as he pointed at the screen directing everyone’s attention to the borders of Iran. “Look!”

  They all turned and saw a huge storm starting to form over eastern Iran. As they all watched stunned, the space-based image showed the giant swirling pattern of a large wormhole starting to gather moisture and electron particles from the air.

  “Pete, warn Niles at Camp David, get those men out of there. Tell them we suspect, as does Magic, that ground penetration by the enemy may have been achieved earlier in the day. And get a message out to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. Warn the Russians in Iran they are about to have company—a lot of it!” Virginia started by slapping Pete on the shoulder, “Go, go!”

  On the large computer screen the wormhole over eastern Iran grew to tremendous proportions as red alarm lights started sounding throughout the complex.

  CAMP DAVID

  FREDERICK, MARYLAND

  There was a line of vehicles waiting to leave and even more waiting to enter at the now camouflaged and sandbag-buttressed security entrance to Camp David. Jack and the newly promoted Captain Will Mendenhall stepped from the green government sedan and walked toward the car behind theirs. Carl Everett stepped from the backseat while his driver stayed behind the wheel.

  “Damn, it’s harder to get out of this place than it is to get in,” Everett joked as he took in the new silver bars on Will’s uniform. “It must be the shock of seeing Will weighed down by all that hardware.”

  Jack smiled and Mendenhall frowned.

  “I don’t think the Secret Service and these Marines care much that I was promoted to be a secretary for a new two-star general,” he quipped, then caught himself as he was now addressing not only a two-star admiral, but also a newly promoted two-star general. He relaxed when he realized that these temporary ranks would never change the way these two men looked at life.

  “I’m afraid we’ve been held up because the Secret Service and FBI have yet to deliver my new adjutant.” Jack looked at his watch. “Which should have been five minutes ago.”

  “With our luck old Henri probably stole their keys and has already escaped,” Everett said in all seriousness.

  “My luck isn’t that good,” Jack said with a frown as he looked around, wondering what was taking security so long to deliver the Frenchman.

  Jack was about to tease Will even more when every alarm bell inside the Camp David compound started blaring with intermittent and very loud warnings.

  * * *

  The Secret Service broke into the live broadcast of the president’s address and ran to the podium, pushing and pulling him and every member of the council out of the small room. Marines formed a perimeter as the group was hustled out.

  “What’s going on?” the president demanded as they were ruthlessly shoved into a tight formation as they neared the back of the main building. The other leaders of the world were just as shocked as their own security elements joined the rush to get out as warning bells sounded everywhere. The few members of the world press who had been invited up to the press conference now were left standing with mouths agape at the sudden action.

  “We just received a coded warning from ‘Magic’ that an attack is imminent on this compound!” Niles Compton said as he joined the group of world leaders. They were now surrounded by fifty Marines in full battle BDUs. “The same warning is going out to the technical team in Iran. It looks like a giant wormhole is forming over the eastern section—they’re going to be hit. It must have been the last test and our own communications that led the Grays to the university. Your broadcast was like leaving a bread-crumb trail for the enemy to find us and them.”

  “The power plant, that’s more important than us. Can we get it out of Iran in time, Niles?” the president asked as they were being hustled toward a reinforced bunker a hundred yards from the main house. They heard the scream of F-15s as they streaked low over the densely forested area. Soon the thumping of rotors broke through the noise of the warning alarms and the jet noise as more Marines were brought into the compound.

  “We’ve got the warning out to the Russian and Iranian forces. Luckily the Revolutionary Guard detachment was still in the area and is moving on the university to assist,” Niles answered as they reached the steel door of the shelter. “The power plant had already been crated and our people have begun to move it out of the city, but we don’t know if it’s in time.”

  A loud explosion rocked the area and then they all heard screams as the early night was now alight with flares. Large shadows ran through the trees, and then bright streaks of laser light pulsated out toward the Marine detachment. Several men were caught before they could react and were sliced in two. The others started to return fire at the unseen Grays, but they were well hidden inside the tree line. The president and the Overlord Council were hustled into the bunker, followed by a full squad of heavily armed Marines and Secret Service personnel. Niles Compton looked back as the door was closed. He prayed that Jack, Carl, and Will Mendenhall had cleared the Camp David compound in time.

  * * *

  Jack hit the ground and Everett and Mendenhall fell on top of him. The world came alive with flashes of light as an unseen enemy opened up from thick surrounding trees that obscured the Marines’ return fire. He heard an explosion overhead and they all managed to look up in time to see a Marine Corp Black Hawk start spinning into the tree line, where it hit and burst open, killing all inside. Three Marines in battle fatigues ran by them and were immediately struck down by bright flashes of light. Jack winced as a headless torso struck the ground next to him.

  “Come on, we’re going to get cut to pieces if we stay here!” He reached for a fallen M-4, the shortened version of the venerable M-16. He also reached for the nine-millimeter Beretta that was still holstered in the Marine’s web belt and tossed it to Everett.

  The three men ran to a defensive position being set up by the remaining Marine detachment at the front gate.

  As soon as Will Mendenhall slid to a stop beside Jack and Carl he found another M-4 lying on the ground, just out of reach of a dead lance corporal a foot away. Will reached for it, then shielded his eyes as flares burst in every direction.

  “I think the war may have started,” he said as he tried in vain to find a target. He ducked behind Collins as three streaks of laser light reached out toward them. They struck a tree and burned through the thick trunk. It started to fall over as several Marines broke their cover and ran to a new position.

  As Collins raised his head he saw the outline of one of the Grays highlighted by a floating overhead flare. He took quick aim at the distant target and fired off three rounds. He watched the tall, angular Gray stumble and fall to the ground.

  “Good shot, Jack,” Carl said as he too fired off his own M-4. Marines from every direction started firing as they acquired targets.

  The men from the Event Group knew from their experience in Arizona, from autopsies, and from Gus Tilley’s debriefing that same year, that the Grays would be notoriously hard to kill
because of their having two hearts. Everett remembered the same thing.

  “Aim for the heads!” he shouted out to the Marines around them.

  The volume of fire escalated to a loud din as the Marine detachment started to get their bearings.

  Will saw something rushing at them; he kneeled and fired a long burst into the dark. He saw as well as heard the tracer rounds as they struck the Gray. Its forward momentum brought the alien over the fallen tree they were behind and struck Will and they both hit the dirt. In an instant the Gray was on him, jabbering and screaming as bluish blood pulsed into Mendenhall’s face. Everett jumped onto its back and fired four rounds from the Beretta into the creature’s head. It rolled off and Carl assisted Mendenhall to his feet.

  “Just like old times out at Tilley’s place, huh, Captain?” Everett said over the noise of bursting grenades and gunfire.

  Before Will could comment an Apache AH-64 Longbow attack chopper streaked low over the trees and the men heard the screech of missiles being launched into the woods surrounding the compound.

  “This is a major strike element—if Apaches are firing directly next to the compound this has to be an assault on the men inside. They’re serious.” Jack rose up from the ground and chanced a look around. He saw Grays coming in from the surrounding woods. He counted at least twenty before a hail of laser shot forced him to duck. “Fellas, we’re about to get major company.”

  “Damn it, Jack, I’ve got about five rounds left in this thing,” Everett cried out but immediately rose and fired at the line of tall Grays coming at them. “Make that none.” Carl hit the dirt beside Will and Jack. “Well, I got two of those ugly bastards!” he said as he ejected the magazine.

  Collins managed to rise and watch as the Grays advanced. Suddenly a loud explosion rocked the ground beneath them and they were tossed against the underside of the green sedan. As his vision cleared he looked back and saw a tall column of smoke rising from the direction of the living quarters of Camp David. Jack grimaced as he started fearing the worst.

  “What we’ve got here sure as hell looks like a murder raid, General,” Everett said as he too examined the Grays as they came out of the tree line. They held what looked like long shafts. He turned and looked at their rear and his heart froze. Ten of the Grays had managed to work their way behind them and what was left of the Marine detail. He saw young men being mowed down by weaponry he had only seen in movies.

  Jack yelled in pain as one brief shaft of light grazed his shoulder with the full wattage of the laser round striking the dirt next to him, sending up chunks of bright red clay.

  “Gentlemen, I think it’s time to get the hell out of Dodge.”

  Jack stood with Everett and Mendenhall right behind. Just as fast they were frozen in solid bright light coming from the opposite direction.

  “Collins, hit the dirt!” came a voice amplified over a bullhorn.

  The three men didn’t need prompting and did as ordered without much thought. Before their ragged breathing could stir up dust, a horrid sound started. It was a shrill whining and then all hell broke loose. Jack raised his head slightly and looked from under the rear of the car. He saw Grays being torn to bits. The brutes were being mowed down by something Jack now recognized as a five-barreled Gatling gun. He looked behind and saw over a hundred Marines making their way toward them. Before he knew it the noise had stopped and the ringing in his ears began. Soon arms and hands were lifting him to his feet.

  Jack, Carl, and Mendenhall were stunned to see one particular man among the Marines. He had a smoking M-4 assault rifle in his hands and a set of handcuffs dangling from his right wrist. Henri Farbeaux looked around him as if he were in shock. He watched as Marines continued to shoot some of the Grays as they struggled to get to dropped weapons, but soon even that noise fell silent. Farbeaux shook his head as he approached.

  “Makes you appreciate a human enemy, does it not?” Henri said as he handed off the empty M-4 to a passing Marine. “I don’t suppose you have a key for this, do you?” Henri held up the dangling handcuff. “I think my days of hiding and running are over.”

  Will Mendenhall was grateful to see the Frenchman, but Jack and Carl only looked at him in amazement. Then at once both men came to the realization of what really just happened.

  “Come on,” Jack said. “Niles and the president are back there!”

  Farbeaux watched the men start running back up the road without a second glance at him. He looked at the dangling cuff, then cursed and followed his new allies.

  Around them, the remaining Marines started checking the dead Grays, with several of the toughened veterans getting ill when examining the alien species up close. There had been several shots ringing out in the growing night as Grays were dispatched by very angry soldiers and state police. Soon officers with cooler heads stopped the executions and they began the grim task of gathering dead and wounded from both sides.

  * * *

  Over 2.78 billion sets of eyes had watched live on television as the leaders of the most powerful nations on earth had been hustled off the podium at Camp David. The camera was left on and the billions of citizens of the world were left looking at an empty stage with shouts, screams, and gunfire erupting through their speakers. Men, women, and children were left astounded, and all were in the dark as to what was happening at the small American villa in the Maryland woods.

  * * *

  Jack, Carl, Will, and Henri all ran toward the rear of the devastated compound. Secret Service, state police, FBI, and Marines were running everywhere with weapons at the ready. No less than a platoon-sized element of Marines had surrounded the rear of the house and grounds. Many Marines and agents from every branch of service lay dead or dying from the assault of the Grays, over a hundred of which had been cut down and were lying dead on the ground; some even in the trees.

  “Oh, God,” Will Mendenhall said when he saw fifty or so men trying desperately to clear the entranceway to an underground bunker.

  Men were tossing chunks of concrete left, right, and over their shoulders. Finally reinforcements started to arrive by helicopter and by road. All concern for security had gone out the window as even the servants stationed at Camp David were joining in the efforts to free whoever was trapped below in the bunker. Sirens blared and large Marine Corps helicopters circled above as they cast bright lights on the surreal scene below. Off to the left Jack and the others saw the president’s helicopter, Marine One, on its side and burning. Apache Longbow helicopters were now orbiting in force. A lone Gray rose from the ground and charged at the rescue workers. Before Jack could relax two FBI agents spun and fired at the alien, but its momentum carried it forward until it struck the workers. Three Marines immediately dispatched the enemy, then several others struck at it with anything they could get their hands on.

  Jack grabbed a Marine sergeant as he trotted by, making the kid almost fall to the ground.

  “Where’s the goddamn president?” he shouted over the din.

  All the boy could do was turn his head toward the bunker. Jack released the kid and looked on at the continuing efforts to free all inside. Even Farbeaux was stunned at what he was seeing. Relief flooded their features as they saw the prime minister of Great Britain and then the Chinese president as they were assisted from what now looked like a grave. The Chinese leader looked as if his arm was broken and the prime minister was cut but unharmed. He was desperately pointing back toward the collapsed bunker and insisting that he be allowed to help the rest of the council.

  Jack felt his body deflate as a man was brought out, his head and left leg missing. Jack looked around, fearing what was coming next. He glanced at Will Mendenhall and his heart ached for the young captain. Will was so angry that a single tear coursed down his face.

  Collins was soon tapped on the shoulder and he turned to see the chairman of the Joint Chiefs. He was ragged looking, with his uniform jacket ripped and his face bloodied. He tossed away an old M-16 and as it clattered to the ground
he looked at the four men around him. He flinched when the roof of the main house collapsed and a shower of burning embers lit the night around them. The rescue workers were removing many of the house staff covered in sheets or curtains, anything they could find.

  “How in the hell did they get so close without us knowing about it?” Jack asked angrily.

  “As I’m not supposed to know about you people out in the desert, all I can say is that we were warned at the last second by that asset out there, Magic. If we hadn’t been warned none of us would have made it out alive.” General Caulfield wiped blood from his broken nose.

  “But how did they get so close, goddamn it?” Jack insisted, as his eyes probed the site for Niles Compton.

  “We think they may have arrived early this morning. It was purely a ground assault, which was why that damn wormhole wasn’t large like the others.”

  Finally it was Everett who called out. “Niles!” All to a man they ran forward. Niles was covered in blood as he was helped from the rubble. His right hand was held over a large gash in his head that completely covered his eye. Will tore off part of his shirt and applied pressure to the wound. Jack and Carl and even Henri assisted the director over several of the fallen Grays. Will even managed to kick one of the dead beings in the head with brutal force. Suddenly Niles, acting delirious, turned and wanted to return to the smoking hole in the ground.

  “The president—we have to get to him!” he cried as he struggled against the restraining arms.

  “There he is,” General Caulfield said as he rushed forward.

  Niles stilled his protests when he saw his best friend being carried out by five filthy Marines. His arms were hanging loose and as the men watched, doctors ran toward him. Jack’s heart froze as he watched the president of the United States laid on the ground. Caulfield turned and faced the men.

  “He’s out cold, has a massive gash on his head, and he may lose an arm—it’s crushed bad. God, what are we…” The general looked up and grabbed the first Secret Service agent he could find. “Get the word out: the vice president needs to return ASAP to the capital.”