Overlord

by David L. Golemon

  Inside the immense cavern, thousands of torches were flashing and sparking as the repair to the ancient vessel was continuing even as her proposed launch date was soon arriving. Large patches of damaged hull, the girder system, looked new as other parts were old and rusted. These were in the process of being ground down and painted by the large work crews manning her decks, both upper and lower. The bottom half of the ship was almost an exact duplicate of the upper only the large towers were far shorter. But the resemblance was complete when they all noticed two of the same turrets on the bottom half. That made for six of the large weapons systems in total and that didn’t include at least fifty smaller, twin-barreled turrets lining her superstructure. The staff realized that the ship, if viewed from the side, would have looked like a vessel sitting in calm waters with her reflection displayed perfectly in duplicate, top and bottom. They also realized that the crew of the lower half superstructure would be upside down; utilizing the zero gravity of space they would be operating just the same as the upper crews.

  “The vessel—we could never decipher her name in the Martian language—was heavily damaged. So much so it took the combined treasuries of six nations to repair her,” Admiral Kinkaid said as he stepped up to Collins. Jack could see the pride in the faces of both of the brilliant naval engineers as Huffington joined them. “Perhaps it’s better explained by looking at the silhouette on the wall.” He pointed to a large, illuminated design etched on glass sunk into the ice wall.

  Jack and the others turned and watched as Admiral Huffington took over the explanation.

  “Whatever battles this ship was in, it took an inordinate amount of damage. We have had to replace, or reverse-engineer if you prefer, over 40 percent of her bulk. We have had to replace her six engine bells and mixing chambers at the stern and every one of her sixteen maneuvering jets lining her midsection.” He pointed to certain areas of explanation on the lighted depiction of the Lee. “The crystal laser enhancers on every one of the eighteen guns had to be replaced, as they were cracked and broken whenever the ship came into contact with the sea due to the enormous overheating. Cold water and extremely hot glass of any sort does not mix well.”

  “What are … these tanks … inside the hull? They … look new?” Tram asked in his limited English, as this was the first time the small man had said anything in English.

  “Very observant, Lieutenant,” Huffington said, surprised by the knowledge of the average soldier. “Those are five-thousand-gallon coolant tanks, fifteen in all, upper and lower decks. They are used to flush each of the large barrels at the time of discharge to cool them from the heat of the Argon laser system. Without the coolant, the barrels would melt after the second or third firing of the weapons.”

  “Have the guns been tested?” Jack asked.

  “Yes, they have, General. Raytheon Corporation built two turrets with three weapons apiece at the Aberdeen Proving Ground two years ago. At first the crystals blew apart, but with the assistance of the Hillman Corporation of Liverpool, England, and their vast history of lens grinding capability, they fashioned new crystals that were able to withstand over a thousand discharges of the system before eventually cracking. We have calculated that we’ll eventually need far less than that from each barrel.”

  Collins knew the connotation of the admiral’s words because he knew that the ship wasn’t meant to last that long in battle with the saucers. He didn’t expand on the subject of duration.

  Kinkaid tapped the body of the nearly holographic view and it changed, rotating 150 degrees. “As you can see, the vessel is enormous in size and weight. Her thrusters were never meant to lift her off an atmospheric world, thus our dilemma.” He stepped away from the diagram and pointed to the spot on the Lee where engineers were busy attaching what Collins and his staff realized were hundreds of powerful solid fuel booster rockets along her midsection.

  “They look like space shuttle booster rockets,” Mendenhall ventured.

  “Exactly, Captain, only far more powerful. Morton-Thiokol Corporation took three years designing and developing the new system and that should be capable with the one hundred and twelve boosters to get the Lee into the air with the assistance of her many maneuvering jets, all one hundred and fifty thousand tons of her.”

  “I hate to be the realist here, but where is this ship supposed to fight?” Farbeaux watched the five thousand workmen busily going here and there in all locations of her superstructure.

  “Hopefully not too far from here,” Sir Darcy said, glancing upward toward the ice ceiling five thousand feet above their heads. “It really depends upon the Grays and where they place their energy-producing vessel when it arrives for the main invasion.” He looked at his watch for the dramatic effect. “Which should come at almost any time, according to our small alien friend.”

  “The main armament of the Lee cannot destroy this rather larger saucer on her own, gentlemen,” Huffington said almost sadly. “She can only defend and protect, for as long as she can, the two ships of the boarding party that will assault the enemy vessel and destroy her from within. This is the job of the HMS Lee, to fight as long as she can against overwhelming odds to hold station while our people enter the energy ship. Because without that, the Grays cannot bring the rest of their fleet to us. They will wither and die in deep space.”

  “Oh, I thought for a minute there we didn’t stand a chance. But now that you’ve explained it, I see not one obstacle to your plan.” Farbeaux shook his head at the arrogant audacity of these men.

  “Now you can imagine, Colonel Farbeaux, the hardship that we endured getting other nations to join in the allied coalition,” Sir Darcy stated flatly.

  “And what does Mahjtic say about the chances of success?” Jack wanted to know the truth, not just for him but the many thousands of men and women that were going to die in the attempt. He realized now the distant and tired look of Niles Compton the past five years; this knowledge had weighed him down like a drowning man holding cinder blocks while trying to stay afloat.

  Sir Darcy Bennett looked from Collins to the two admirals, who looked away from the group. Then the professor turned back and faced the expectant men before him.

  “Ten to 20 percent.”

  Jack’s staff was silent as they realized that the great hope of the entire world boiled down to a mere fraction of what they had hoped.

  “Now you know why your Dr. Compton and Lord Durnsford kept the information making up the Overlord plan so compartmentalized. If the percentage of possible success leaked out before we were ready, the world would just give up.”

  Before anyone could bravely say anything in response to deter the fear they all felt, a loudspeaker came to life and over the noise of machinery and cutting and welding torches came the announcement.

  “All propulsion engineering personnel please report to your stations. All heavy load handling crews, man your cranes. All riggers to their stations. Arrival of power plant is estimated in fifteen minutes. Repeat, all propulsion engineering divisions prepare for power plant arrival.”

  Jack saw the activity below increase as a loud cheer went up from the many thousands of workers who had slaved for the past four years on the most expensive project ever initiated by mankind.

  Collins turned to his men and nodded for them to return to the tram. He then turned to the three men who were responsible for the reverse-engineering of the former Martian battleship, the HMS Garrison Lee.

  “Thank you, gentlemen. Thank you for the truth.”

  WALTER REED NATIONAL MILITARY MEDICAL CENTER

  BETHESDA, MARYLAND

  Niles Compton was sitting up as far as he could in the bed. His right eye and forehead, along with the right side of his face, was still covered in heavy gauze. He had awakened from a state of near-coma to see Virginia Pollock sleeping with her head on her arms at the foot of his bed. He had been awake for the past forty minutes, trying to get the fog of his memory back before he attempted to speak. He watched Virginia and realized
that she must have planted herself here in the hospital, which wasn’t a good sign. He would have thought she would have been with the president’s cabinet working on the Event Group part of Overlord.

  Niles moved his left foot and Virginia came awake with a start. It was if she was falling from a cliff, which is exactly what she had been doing in her waking hours. She blinked several times and then noticed that Niles was staring at her. His one brown eye took her in and the director of Department 5656 actually managed a small smile.

  “How many days?” he asked in a whisper.

  Virginia stood and walked to the head of the bed, then leaned over and kissed her friend of fifteen years lightly on the top of his balding head. She wiped at a tear and then smiled at him as she took in his battered features.

  “I must say, you look the mess, boss.”

  “I feel a mess. Now, how many days was I out?” he persisted.

  “Six.”

  Niles closed his good left eye and then leaned back against his pillow.

  “The president is still in a coma,” she said as she watched Compton’s face for a reaction. There was none. “Vice President Stevens was killed in San Francisco by a Gray attack similar to the Camp David strike.”

  Niles acted as if the news didn’t affect him, but Virginia knew the news about his best friend had shaken him to his core.

  “Giles Camden is now the acting commander-in-chief.”

  “Overlord?”

  “At the risk of every one of the president’s cabinet, and most of the military basically under threat of treason, it’s still going forward. The engine arrived in Antarctica this morning. Jack, Carl, and the rest have arrived safely and are on station.”

  “The Grays?” he asked as he finally managed to open his one good eye.

  “Mumbai and Beijing have been destroyed.”

  This time a moan did escape the director’s mouth. He turned away for a moment to gather his thoughts. He faced Virginia once more with a questioning look.

  “The Grays have come to take people, Niles. To … consume us. Matchstick held that back from us. They emptied Mumbai and Beijing and then the saucers left. We have them on the Hubble back at their fleet.”

  The horrible truth as to the Gray intent was clearly written on Compton’s face. He shook his head, understanding why Matchstick had been so secretive.

  “Niles, the largest energy-production ship has left the rest of their fleet, along with over a thousand attack craft—the invasion is about to begin. India and China were nothing but test platforms for the real thing. And nothing the Chinese or the Indian militaries threw at them worked. They shook off even nuclear weapons and completed their raids and then left.”

  A light knock sounded at the door and General Caulfield looked in. He was dressed like Niles or Virginia had never seen him before. His civilian clothing made them feel the loss of control more than anything thus far.

  “I should have known you were awake, Doctor. It seems you and the president are mentally linked or something.” Caulfield entered the room.

  “Jim is awake?” Niles asked hopefully.

  “No, but the doctors said his brain activity is rising very quickly. He should be able to open his eyes soon.”

  “Thank God,” Virginia said as she shook the general’s hand.

  “Overlord?” Niles asked, trying to swallow. Virginia took the glass of water and placed the straw in his mouth and Compton drank deeply.

  “Being rushed, I’m afraid. We’re fast running out of time.”

  “Everything is in place?” he asked as Virginia pulled the glass away.

  “All, with the exception of the two battle groups assigned for the defense of Camp Alamo. I’m afraid our President Camden has a friend in the task force commander.” He saw the sad look cross Niles’s uninjured side of his face. “But with General Collins there, I feel somewhat better about giving Overlord a chance at getting off the ground. Everything else is getting back to the normal plan, thanks to two young men who saw what was happening with their new boss the president, and scattered the airwaves with false orders directed from the White House through the NSA, which immediately forwarded them to all commands.” He smiled. “Even though the NSA director across the river knew them to be forged orders. We owe those two men in the president’s press corps a lot. Especially now that they have been arrested at the direct orders of Camden and director of the CIA designate, Peachtree. Those kids are now in jail, charged with falsifying federal documents and the rumor is a charge of treason is forthcoming, all at a time of war, which means they’ll hang if convicted.”

  “We have to see to it they don’t,” Compton said.

  “Niles, there is one more thing I need to tell you,” Virginia said, not wanting to add to the director’s already burdened mind. “Peachtree and Camden want Matchstick and they will raid the complex in order to get at him. We now suspect that it was Peachtree along with the killer of Jack’s sister that arranged for the first raid on the Group six months ago, trying to procure that aggression formula uncovered in Mexico.”

  Niles shook his head adamantly even though it caused him pain to do so.

  “Get Matchstick out of there. He’s given Overlord all he can; it’s time for him to go home, where our men can protect him and Gus.”

  “I’ll see to it,” Virginia said. “General, I know it’s asking a lot, but can the FBI give us the men we need to cover the house and property in Arizona?”

  “With the resignation of the president’s man at the FBI and Camden’s new choice in that position, no, I’m sorry. If I ask it will only tell Camden and Peachtree exactly where your asset will be.”

  “I want Pete Golding to stay with Matchstick and Gus. Keep them safe. I also want any other civilian volunteers at Group to go with Pete. With our military arm spread all over the globe, it’s our only security besides the retirees we have watching the place,” Niles said as he felt his strength waning fast.

  “Get some sleep, Dr. Compton, we’ll do what we can from here,” Caulfield said as he and Virginia watched him fall asleep.

  “I’ll get these orders out to my Group to get Matchstick and Gus out of there; you stay with the president and let us know as soon as he awakens. Camden has to be stopped before he interferes with Overlord any more than he has.”

  Caulfield nodded, took Virginia’s shoulder and squeezed, then left the room.

  Virginia stayed a moment looking at Niles. She shook her head as she realized just how much Niles had personally altered the world they knew. She again wiped a tear away as she moved for the door.

  The world would never know the names of Niles Compton or that of the Matchstick Man, and Dr. Virginia Pollock knew that to be wrong and unacceptable.

  CAMP ALAMO

  ANTARCTICA

  Jack was sitting at his desk in his assigned quarters six hours after the incredible tour of Poseidon’s Nest. He was short on sleep as he had been for the past six months since the death of his sister, Lynn. Collins had two pictures on his cluttered desk that he kept looking at: one of his sister and mother, posed together in the last photo ever taken of the two women a year before Lynn was murdered; the second of Sarah. She sat on a rock somewhere in the middle of a desert, smiling into the camera, and Jack imagined from time to time it was he who had taken the snapshot and that they might have even been on a vacation together. He closed his eyes momentarily and then went back to his battle plans.

  A loud knock sounded on his door and he stood and stretched. He rubbed his sore eyes and then walked to the plastic door and opened it. Before he knew it someone was on him and he stumbled back into the small room, then hit the bed and fell backward. The next thing he realized was that Sarah was kissing him all over his face. He laughed and then while on his back lifted her into the air. He then brought her down and kissed her deeply. After a full minute—a minute that he would never forget as long as he lived—he pushed her off and then while on one elbow looked into her sea-reddened face. Her smile was e
normous.

  “I see your pleasure cruise has finally docked,” he said with a smile he no longer thought he had been capable of.

  “Yeah, it sure had, General,” she said in amazement. “Boy, I can’t wait to spend all of that extra money at the end of the month,” she said with an even larger smile as she leaned over and kissed him again.

  Jack finally pulled away again. “Sorry to disappoint you, but the president didn’t see fit to give me the pay-grade advancement with the brevet rank; I guess he spent all of his extra money down here.”

  “Damn, Jack, how in the hell are we to live off a colonel’s pay?”

  He smiled again and then stood from the small cot, then pulled her to her feet and held her at arm’s length to look her over.

  “I see the Russian Navy must have behaved themselves while you were onboard.”

  Sarah got a serious look on her face as she reached out and placed her arms around Jack.

  “I’ll never tell,” she said with a sadness Jack detected immediately.

  “Lost a lot of good men, I hear,” he said as he hugged her back.

  Sarah didn’t answer as she buried her face in Jack’s chest, and that to him was good enough.

  “Where’s Carl and Jason?” he asked.

  Sarah finally pulled back and her smile returned. “They were absconded by a funny little man with a lab coat, Sir … or Lord something or other. They’re taking some sort of magical mystery tour. I was supposed to go but I escaped to see some jerk with two new stars on his collar.”

  “Well, they’re in for one hell of an eye opener. You should have gone.”

  “I wanted to see only one thing,” she said as she smiled wider.

  “And that is?”

  “Will.” She laughed before she could get it fully out.

  “Ass,” he said.

  “One more surprise, Jack, you’ll love this one.”

  “What?” he said expecting a gift as she turned away and then looked at him with wide eyes.

  “Master Chief Jenks is here.”

  Collins turned a nice shade of white as the image of the short, meanest son of a bitch he had ever had the displeasure of meeting came into his mind. He felt like he needed to sit down as he remembered crashing the master chief’s boat, USS Teacher, inside the El Dorado mine.