Overlord

by David L. Golemon

  “In case they are called upon, is this Collins up to the task of holding the flood waters at bay?”

  “I believe so. At least he has the respect of most military organizations in the world—yes, I think he can.”

  “Who in the hell is this guy that the president places so much faith in him?” the national security advisor asked. “I mean, between him and that little bald guy lying in the hospital, most of our fates lie in their hands.”

  “That little bald guy Compton and General Collins have been there before, many times. If they can’t pull this off, then we won’t have long to suffer the new president. Our asses will be kicked as thoroughly as Custer’s was at Little Big Horn.”

  EVENT GROUP COMPLEX

  NELLIS AIR FORCE BASE, NEVADA

  Jack and Will sat inside the conference room. Both men had hurriedly packed and sat waiting for Matchstick to be brought in. While they waited Collins had requested that Pete and Europa try and contact Sarah McIntire. Pete reported just a few minutes later that Sarah and Ryan, and, to the surprise of both Will and Jack, Anya Korvesky, had put to sea six hours before and could not under any circumstances be contacted. The entire Russian battle fleet was off the air and would remain so. This all came from the orders pertaining to Overlord.

  The conference room doors opened and Gus Tilly, dressed in a long robe, walked in holding the hand of Matchstick, who at the very least looked worried about Gus. The old man looked worn to the bone, which made Jack apprehensive about broaching the subject of trust with the small alien, as he knew upsetting Gus would do no good. Matchstick made sure Gus was sitting comfortably and then walked to a chair, where he climbed up and sat looking straight at Collins. Pete Golding, acting as temporary director of Department 5656, sat in on the meeting. It was he who spoke first.

  “Jack, General Caulfield contacted us through the Oval Office. He is furious that you, Will, and Farbeaux haven’t departed for your duty stations yet.”

  Collins only nodded his head. “Anything else?”

  “Yes, Colonel Farbeaux is waiting in the hallway. His uniform’s arrived and he looks as if he’s miserable.”

  “Good, he needs to be miserable. Thanks, Pete. Have a seat, you need to hear this too in case the new president throws Virginia in jail and Niles … remains incapacitated.”

  Pete nodded and then slowly sat down. He didn’t bother to sit in Niles Compton’s chair. Everyone could see the computer genius was devastated that his friend was lying in critical condition in a Washington hospital. Jack hit the intercom to the outer office.

  “Okay Alice, you can come in.”

  Alice Hamilton opened the double doors and came in with several large photographs. She handed them to Jack and then sat down next to Gus Tilly, who had been adamant about being with Matchstick. Collins accepted the photos and then looked at the large and very long conference table. There were so many missing faces that he had to clear his throat.

  “You haven’t been totally honest in your debriefs about the Grays, have you, Matchstick? We brought back a Gray prisoner from Camp David. You have had several hours with it. Now we need to know what you know because Alice and Pete say you have stopped talking.”

  “What’s this about?” Gus asked as Matchstick remained quiet.

  “Niles suspects that Matchstick is keeping something from us.” Jack had his eyes on the alien and not Gus.

  “Matchstick, it’s too late in the game for you to hold back. In order for us to fight what’s ahead, we need the truth,” Alice said with a comforting smile.

  “I think over three hundred and seventy hours was enough of a strain on this little fella to explain his actions,” Gus said as his temper started to rise. Matchstick reached up and easily patted the old man’s hand in an attempt to calm him.

  Jack pushed a photo toward Gus and Matchstick. “Niles began to have doubts about his honesty when these showed up on the Hubble telescope.”

  Gus looked at the photo, but Matchstick did not. It was the now famous photograph of the armada of saucers thousands of light-years away from Earth that had spurred the nations of the world to action. Jack tapped the photo.

  “Why are they there?”

  “I think he explained all of that stuff to you and every other egghead on the planet more than just once,” Gus said as he eyed Collins.

  “Yes, we know Matchstick’s planet is a dying world; we assumed that was the reason for the mass exodus of saucers. Over seven hundred and fifty thousand of them, at last count. We understand that they plan to colonize this world and take it down for their own. The Grays do have a plan, which Niles is sure of. It’s just not what Matchstick told us their plan was in reality.”

  “Look, you better explain,” Gus said tiredly, feeling betrayed by men he had come to trust. “Why is he being asked these questions? Does it really matter in the long run?”

  “Matchstick,” Mendenhall said, trying to take some of the pressure off of Jack, “there are no less than five thousand habitable worlds just inside the Milky Way galaxy alone. Any one of them is suitable for habitation by yours and the Gray species. I think you better tell us, why Earth?”

  Matchstick remained silent as his eyes traveled to Alice Hamilton, the kindest person outside of his best friend Gus Tilly he had ever known. She nodded her head that he should tell the truth. Still he remained silent as he dipped his head and squeezed Gus’s hand that much tighter.

  Jack looked at his watch and then shook his head as he knew his secured flight to Hawaii was close at hand. He had to leave and he didn’t know if Alice and Pete were strong enough to force the truth out of the small green alien. He hated treating Matchstick like this but they had to know everything because it impacted the way Earth would fight this war.

  “Every science fiction story ever written has the main reason for extraterrestrial invasion as a fight for our resources. Water, timber, minerals—but that isn’t it, is it? We have since discovered that fresh water is readily abundant throughout the galaxy. Minerals, there are whole worlds of precious metals just waiting to be discovered. Now, what do the Grays want?”

  Matchstick released the hand of Gus and then wiped at his large eyes. Jack felt horrible as he realized he had never seen Matchstick cry before. Alice walked around the table and placed her arm around the small being, then looked at Collins and shook her head, indicating that he should stop the questioning. Jack returned the look and shook his head.

  “Why would the Grays try to take out the chain of command? They have the power to come here and destroy whatever they wanted to destroy with practical immunity. They wouldn’t care who was in charge and they certainly wouldn’t risk a ground incursion. They would come in blasting and you know it. Now why did they do that?”

  “That’s enough. Isn’t it ample that they have come, just like he told you in the past? Does it matter what they came for?” Gus stood from his chair as Mahjtic tried to stay him.

  “Yes, Gus, they could come here and just start killing all. I mean, that is their main goal, is it not, the complete subjugation of the planet? Why would they kill the leaders of the world? There is no need.”

  Gus sat back down and then took Mahjtic’s hand once again. The alien nodded his head at Tilly and the old man turned white as he couldn’t form the words. Matchstick looked from him toward Jack. A single tear fell from his large, obsidian-colored eye. He wiped it away and then with a final look at Alice he started to say something. Gus stopped him, and then nodded his head also.

  “There is one thing … that … is not … abundant … in this … or any … other universe, Colonel Jack.”

  Collins and Mendenhall leaned forward and Pete Golding stopped writing on his notepad. Jack nodded his head that Matchstick should continue. It was like the Green alien was hiding something that pained him to the extreme and he wanted to excise the thing so bad that its poison ripped him apart as he tried to say it.

  “We’re your friends, Matchstick—always have been. And nothing you can say
will ever change that.”

  “My race is … all … dead. That Gray Master you brought … here … said so. They are all gone.

  “What happened to them—did they die out?” Pete Golding asked, starting to feel sick for Mahjtic and his kind. Slaves to the death.

  “Their … fate will be … our fate,” he said, looking from face to face.

  “They were killed off?” Will asked, getting angry for the small friend before them.

  “Yesss,” Mahjtic said, drawing out the answer as he lowered his eyes.

  “What do they really want?” Jack said with a growing feeling of dread.

  “There is … one … natural resource … not readily … available … in the universe, Colonel Jack. Not water, not minerals … but people.” Matchstick looked from Collins to his friend Gus and the old man nodded that he should continue. “They sent the Talkan to your world six years … ago, not to kill off your species … but … to study … your … close in … defenses. Your ground … attack … methods.”

  Jack exchanged looks with everyone at the table and they all remembered the battle in the desert sands of Arizona where many a soldier had fought and died, killing a species of animal they had all assumed, and were told by Matchstick, was a war of extinction.

  “I … I … was mistaken … that was not the truth.” He stumbled on his words. He looked at Gus for help as he choked up.

  “Damn it, Colonel, the goddamned ugly bastards are here for one thing and one thing only.”

  Jack stood from his chair and then paced with his back to Matchstick.

  “What?” Pete asked, feeling ill himself.

  “Food to feed their home fleet. They cannot take the planet while their own kind is starving.”

  “Us?” Pete almost shrieked.

  Jack turned around in stunned silence.

  “The Greens, Matchstick’s kind, the slaves have all been consumed for the Grays’ benefit, Colonel. Their kind is starving on those saucers you see in that picture. Horrible but true. Now they are coming for the one resource only found here. Food. That’s why they are not attacking in force, they cannot afford to kill off the one thing that can sustain them—their food source.”

  Gus took hold of Matchstick and they went silent as the small alien cried into Gus’s robe. He sniffed and wiped his eyes. He looked at Jack with guilt written on his face.

  “When … their … starvation … is … relieved … they … will … come … in … force … but … first … they must … secure enough … food for … the major attack … Right now … they … are too weak.”

  Jack turned and faced Alice. “Keep this quiet for right now. It won’t do anyone any good to hear this.”

  Alice nodded her head, agreeing with his decision.

  “Thank you, Matchstick. We won’t let it get that far.”

  It was Mendenhall who stood and placed his hands on both Gus and Mahjtic. He patted them on the back and then left the room.

  The horrible information was sickening, but to Collins it didn’t really matter what the motivation was for the attack. It just didn’t matter—one reason was as bad as the other.

  “Pete, there is no need to pass this on to Virginia. She has enough on her plate for now.”

  Pete stood and nodded his head and then held out his hand to shake. “Good luck, General, we’ll be working here for you.” He looked at Matchstick and Gus. “All of us.”

  “I know that.” He shook Pete’s hand and then reached over and hugged Alice. As he did, Mendenhall walked back into the room and up to Matchstick and Gus.

  “I’ve wanted to give this to you for a while now. I guess this is as good as time as any.” Will held out his hand to Matchstick. “Put these on your little collar. You’ve earned them, Captain.”

  Matchstick’s eyes widened even larger than normal as he accepted the gift of the single silver bar of an Army first lieutenant. Gus smiled and patted his small friend on the back.

  The new captain and Jack’s aide knelt down next to Mahjtic and looked at him closely.

  “Do you trust General Collins and me?”

  Matchstick wiped his almost nonexistent nose and nodded his large and bulbous head.

  “I promise we’ll get those bastards for what they did to your kind. Isn’t that right, General?”

  “Damned right.” Jack and Will started to leave for the Nellis airfield. He stopped short of the door and turned. “Alice, when and if you get a chance, get word to Short Stuff for me; tell her I love her and we’ll see each other again. Either here, or somewhere else where soldiers always meet after the shit of the world has been cleaned up.”

  “I will, Jack, I promise.”

  “Pete, find a way to help, if you can.”

  Pete just nodded as Jack and Will left the conference room.

  “What did he mean where soldiers meet?” he asked Alice.

  It was Gus who answered for Alice as she choked up and wiped at her eyes with a Kleenex.

  “It was his way of saying good-bye, Dr. Golding. The man doesn’t think he’ll see any of us again.”

  THE ARK, EVENT GROUP COMPLEX

  NELLIS AIR FORCE BASE, NEVADA

  Pete sat with a beer and a shot of Jack Daniels and stared at the shiny bar top. He was twisting a napkin into knots.

  “Buy you one?”

  Pete Golding looked up and saw Charles Hindershot Ellenshaw III standing by the stool he was sitting in.

  “I’ve already got one … or two,” he corrected himself as he noticed the untouched drinks in front of him.

  Charlie got the bartender’s attention and waved him over to order more drinks. He sat next to Pete and then looked at the bottles arrayed behind the bar. Pete sniffed and noticed Charlie, the old Cal-Berkeley hippie, had indulged in a practice that Niles Compton ignored most times.

  “That shit will warp your brain, Charlie,” Pete said as he downed the shot of Jack Daniels.

  Ellenshaw accepted the drinks and then nodded at the bartender, a retired Air Force sergeant.

  “Your point?” Charlie asked as he too downed his fresh shot.

  Pete looked at the cryptozoologist and then shrugged his shoulders. “I guess I don’t have one.”

  Ellenshaw didn’t say anything.

  “We’re going to lose a lot of friends, Charlie.”

  “Yes, I think you’re right, my friend.” He slid a fresh shot of whiskey toward Pete.

  Golding looked at Ellenshaw, then nodded his head and downed the drink.

  “Charlie, you didn’t think much of the military before knowing Carl, Jack, and the others, did you?”

  “Well,” he said as he sipped at his glass of beer, “I was always a pacifist, you know that. I mean, Cal-Berkeley was not a haven for military leanings during the sixties.” Ellenshaw took another deep swallow of beer. “But the men I’ve known here at Group have shown me something that I never knew.” He placed the glass on the bar and turned to face the computer genius. “The people we serve with are the best men and women I have ever had the privilege to know. Now I’m just afraid I could never live up to what they stand for.”

  “What do you mean?” Pete asked as he too joined Charlie in drinking his two beers.

  “They stand and fight for people who can’t fight for themselves. They fight the bullies in the world that we”—he nodded his head toward Pete—“could never stand up to. I for one am going to move heaven and hell to get my friends home. That’s all we can do, Pete—fight for our friends and those other soldiers who are going into harm’s way. We have a chance here to help, what assitance that is I don’t know yet, but I for one will do anything to get these people home. That’s what hanging out with Jack, Carl, Will, Jason, and Sarah has taught me: try your best.” He looked at his friend. “And that’s what you’ll do too. You were meant to be one of them, you and Europa, and you will prove it once this thing really starts, because like Niles is smart, Jack is brave, you’re a genius, and you’ll do what needs doing.” Charlie finishe
d off his beer and then looked at Golding.

  Pete looked at Charlie and smiled. “You have any more of that crap you smoke? I think it’s time to embrace the radical left.”

  “You bet. Let’s retreat to my inner sanctum and figure out how to help those boys and save the world.”

  The two men toasted and then left the Ark.

  LAS VEGAS, NEVADA

  Hiram Vickers stood outside the MGM Grand and waited. He had just watched the news broadcast and had been so shocked at the reports of the Speaker’s swearing in as the president of the United States that he felt like laughing. His luck had gone from bad to worse in less than twenty-four hours.

  His cell phone rang. Looking at a few of the passing guests, he cautiously answered.

  “It’s about time. I was wondering if you and the new president were going to call my bluff.”

  On the other end of the line, calling from his private and secure cell phone, was Daniel Peachtree. “Do you think you can try and blackmail the new administration in the middle of a war—an interstellar war, at that?”

  “You don’t think the press would love to hear that the man they billed as the most despicable man in the House was in an arms purchase, possibly even the murder and cover-up of a U.S. field agent? I would think again, Mr. Future Director. With the information I have on both of you making money buying up that new technology for a war the Speaker never thought was true in the first place, and then covering up the fact that your man, me, killed two American citizens? I don’t think you would be in your new office for very long, do you?”

  Vickers was starting to think that the assistant director had hung up on him before he heard the man laugh.

  “As it so happens, Mr. Vickers, there is now a need for a man such as you.”

  Vickers eyed two men walking into the MGM and then turned away from them, careful to hide his face.

  “And what special need is that—a target for one of your field agents?”

  “Mr. Vickers, you landed at McCarran International at 7:45 this very evening. You are now standing in front of the MGM Grand looking rather nervous. If I had wanted you dead any one of three very despicable people would have sliced your throat a minute into this call.”