Alien Love

by Stan Schatt

  Jack jumped back into his car and backed up to a safe distance just as he heard sirens in the distance. An explosion sent pieces of the car high in the air before they began to rain down. The former SEAL had seen enough destruction to know nobody could have lived through that firestorm. His hands shook as he did a U-turn and headed toward home knowing that Cassandra was gone. Whoever tried to kill her before now finally had succeeded. He didn’t want to stick around and talk to the police.

  Jack was so lost in his thoughts of Cassandra that he almost missed his freeway exit. The loss was so profound that he wondered whether a person’s heart really could break from such a loss. No matter how much Paxil he took, it wouldn’t help ease his pain.

  Chapter 12

  JACK DROVE BACK to his apartment on automatic pilot as images of Cassandra flashed through his mind. He realized as he pulled into the parking lot that he didn’t even remember getting on or exiting the freeway. He dragged himself up the stairs to his apartment where he saw images of Cassandra everywhere he looked. Her presence still lingered in his bedroom. He had thought there would be plenty of time for them, but now someone had snatched that time away. He felt like screaming his rage but at the same time he longed to find the killers and unleash his fury on them. Realistically he knew he didn’t have a single clue, no physical description of them and no memory of the van’s license plate. Still, he couldn’t give up so he tried repeatedly going over everything he could remember; there had to be something, someway to track down the people who murdered her. No matter what he did to them, though, it wouldn’t bring back Cassandra who now was gone forever.

  He found his bottle of Jack Daniels, poured himself a generous portion, downed it and started to reach for the bottle when his thoughts turned to Moon. There would be time to mourn Cassandra after he rescued his buddy. He had to compartmentalize all his grief and then open that compartment at a later time when he could give it his full attention. Now he had to think about poor Pete because rescuing him couldn’t wait until a time in the distant future when he would be able to lift the sadness that threatened now to overwhelm him. It had always been that way whenever he lost a member of his team during an operation.

  He spent the rest of the evening developing a tactical plan for Dulce while he read over portions of Hawk’s books and took notes. Even if he managed to collect everything on the list of equipment needed for the mission, the odds for success wouldn’t be that good. He took a sleeping pill and slept that night with his gun tucked under his pillow.

  Jack took Goldstone’s printout the next morning and drove toward what he hoped was the location for the first team member on his list. Southeast San Diego is not a safe place, even in the daytime. As he drove deeper into the heart of the territory controlled by one of the toughest Mexican gangs in the entire country, he saw shabby streets filled with liquor store after liquor store along with small tract houses with postage stamp lawns now yellow from lack of care. All the houses seemed to have large dogs that growled and barked as he drove past them. Middle-aged women and kids waited at crowded bus stops while young men stood outside liquor stores and stared at him. Jack’s car’s navigation system finally announced he reached his destination just as he saw the shabby looking bar and grill on his right. Two young Hispanic men with enormous inked arms stood outside as silent sentinels. Jack knew they would search him, so he locked his gun along with the alien weapon in his glove compartment. The gang members eyed Jack as he climbed out of his car and locked it. They seemed amused that he thought a simple car alarm could keep them out of a car if they wanted something inside.

  As Jack walked toward the door, the men drew closer together to block entrance to the building. He saw that both of them were armed and figured several more of the gang probably loitered inside. This wasn’t the time or place for a one-man assault, so he stopped a few feet from the guards.

  “I want to see Ricky. Tell him Jack Starling wants to see him.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want to see you,” one of the men snarled.

  Jack rolled up his sleeve so the men could see the triton tattoo on his arm. “We’re brothers. We served in the same unit. He’s going to be pissed if you don’t tell him.”

  One man whispered something in the other’s ear. They continued to whisper until the one closest to the door nodded and turned to go inside. The other man took a couple of steps toward Jack.

  “You know the drill. Put your hands up and lean against the wall so I can pat you down. Nobody, not even Ricky’s mother, gets to see him without me checking first.”

  The way in which the man searched him revealed the guard was a professional. Nobody could have hidden a weapon that would not be detected with such a thorough search, Jack thought with some admiration. Just as he lowered his arms, the door opened and a short, heavily inked Hispanic man built as solidly as a fire hydrant sauntered out. He looked amused.

  “Amigo, come on in.”

  The two guards stepped aside, and Jack entered the dimly lit bar.

  “Come into my office,” the man said and led Jack to a small back room that consisted of a desk and chair with two folding chairs facing the desk. He sat and motioned for Jack to take one of the folding chairs. AK 47s and boxes of ammo lay stacked next to the wall behind the desk.

  Ricky Garcia folded his massive arms and stared at Jack. “Man, we sold out for you, and then you just disappeared.”

  “My shrink told me she’d cut off all my meds if I talked with you guys. She said it was the only way I’d ever get over my nightmares.”

  “So, just like that you ditched us? One day we’re brothers and the next day we’re garbage?”

  “I’m sorry. Things got real bad, and I thought if they got any worse they’d lock me up in the loony bin and throw away the key.”

  “So, why did you come here now? I bet you need something, right?”

  Jack nodded. “Yeah, Moon saw some things he shouldn’t have seen while he was doing some contract work. A bunch of goons, including our buddy Scarpo, grabbed him and locked him up at a super secret base. If we don’t get him out soon, they’ll kill him.”

  “So? I’m supposed to drop everything? You’re not my team leader anymore. I’ve got my own team now.” Ricky waved his arms in the direction of the door leading to the bar.

  “Moon saved both our asses and you know it. We can’t leave a brother behind. I’m going to do this with you or without you. The odds I succeed are much higher with you.”

  A smile slowly painted itself across Ricky’s face. “Damned right your odds go up. I’ve got more firepower here than half our old unit.”

  “I’m surprised the Navy didn’t get suspicious when you knew more about demolition than the guys instructing us.”

  “Tell me more about Moon.”

  Ricky settled back in his chair while his eyes bore into him. Jack knew that those eyes had witnessed countless deaths and executions without emotion. Ricky killed men with as little emotion as exterminators stamped out bugs. He knew more about high explosives than anyone Jack had ever met.

  Ricky had been the second in command to a gang chief who had a reputation as a homicidal maniac. When war broke out and rivals assassinated his boss, Ricky became a marked man. He joined the Navy with a price on his head. His gang gained new members and avenged the death of its leader during the time he served with Jack. When he came back to San Diego, he realized there was a power vacuum, and so he took over. His SEAL training made him even more lethal than when he had left the gang.

  Jack described his meeting with Moon, Scarpo’s comments, and then what he’d learned about Dulce. Ricky’s eyes didn’t waver and he didn’t interrupt, although Jack thought he saw the eyes narrow slightly when he described the aliens and the experiments on people. Finally he finished with what Maurice told him.

  “So what’s the plan and who’s going to be part of this?”

  “I want you, and I’m going to talk with Bill and Paul.”

  “You know how I feel
about Bill.”

  “I know, but we’ll never find anyone better at what he does. All that other stuff doesn’t matter now.”

  “It does to me. That slot should have been mine, and you know it!”

  Jack sighed. “I agree, but Tony made the decision. You saw my recommendation. I pushed for you.”

  Ricky’s face softened a bit. “I know you did, and we’re still tight. If Bill says anything at all to me, you’re going to have to get by with one less team member. As far as Paul goes, I doubt the ball and chain will let him out of the house.”

  “You mean Mary?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure his old lady still pussy-whips him. I doubt she lets him take a whiz without permission.”

  Jack took out a notepad from his pocket and scribbled something on a sheet before ripping it out and handing it to Ricky. “Here’s my address and a date and time. Whoever is going will meet up then and we’ll go over the plan.”

  Ricky rose and bumped fists with Jack. “I’m in because Moon’s one of us; the rest is just frosting on the cake. I’d love a chance to blow away Scarpo without having to worry about a court martial.”

  Jack walked past the two guards who now eyed him with curiosity and headed to his next stop. He’d have to handle Larson with kid gloves. He drove to a business park near San Diego State where a sign for LANEX pointed to the back of the complex. Jack parked and pushed through the glass doors where he saw a young receptionist with long blond hair and heavy blue eye shadow. She wore a light blue LANEX polo shirt and greeted him with a smile.

  “Could you page Bill Larson for me?”

  “Do you have an appointment, sir?”

  “No, but tell him Jack Starling would like to see him.”

  The pretty blond picked up the receiver and dialed an extension. She whispered into it and then looked up and smiled. “He’ll be right down.” Jack felt out of practice, but he sensed she was flirting with him.

  A few minutes later, a well-built man of medium height walked toward them. His short-cropped brown hair suggested a military history while his broad shoulders and probing eyes confirmed it. Larson’s features were too broad for him to be considered handsome. His nose was a bit too wide and his mouth turned down in a perpetual frown. The two men embraced. Larson picked up a guest pass from the receptionist and handed it to Jack to wear. He then led him to an elevator. They waited until they were inside the elevator before speaking.

  “What do you do here?”

  “I’m head of security. It sounds a lot more important than it really is. Most of the guys working for me are too out of shape to chase down anyone. It’s pretty routine.”

  “Hey, it’s a job. I’m still looking.”

  “I haven’t seen you since we were released,” Larson said and made it sound like an accusation rather than a statement of fact.

  Jack sighed and described his shrink’s threat to cut off his meds if he opened up his wounds by having contact with his team.

  “Nightmares? Yeah, I still get them too.”

  “Are you getting some help?”

  “No. I’ll get through it. Why come see me now? Aren’t you afraid you’ll lose your pills if you talk to the big bad sniper?”

  “Pete Moon is in big trouble. I’m putting together the team to save him.”

  “Is the spick on your list?”

  “Bill, come on. That part of our lives is over. You won. You got the promotion.”

  “It wasn’t discrimination. I deserved it.”

  “Ricky’s cool about working with you because he wants to save Moon. Pete’s saved Ricky’s ass just like he’s saved all of us including you.”

  The elevator stopped and Larson led Jack to a set of doors marked SECURITY. The interior housed several small offices. He walked to one marked DIRECTOR and motioned for Jack to sit down in one of two chairs placed around a small table. Larson took the other chair.

  “So what’s happened to Moon?”

  Jack went into the details including the aliens at Dulce.

  “No shit? So, a stomach shot really put the dorks out of commission.”

  “The Draconians, not the dorks.”

  “Whatever. You always were the man with the plan. What’s the plan?”

  Jack picked up one of Larson’s business cards on the table and wrote his address, a date and time on the back and handed it to him.

  “Will you be able to get some time off?”

  “They owe me some vacation time so it won’t be a problem. You were serious about all that alien stuff?”

  “Yeah, I know it’s hard to believe.”

  “This is so fucking great! I’ve been bored shitless here.”

  Larson led Jack back to the receptionist desk and carefully removed his guest pass. “We can’t allow anyone to walk out with these,” he said.

  Jack realized that Larson was putting on a show for the receptionist’s benefit. She didn’t seem to notice the wink he gave Jack.

  The freeway traffic heading toward the seaside city of Del Mar was crowded as usual. Jack breathed a sigh of relief when he finally reached the Del Mar Heights exit. He turned right and headed to a large glass and metal building a couple of blocks from the big Del Mar Heights shopping center. He parked and found San Diego Discount Insurance Brokers listed in the large directory in the lobby. The elevator seemed to take forever so he finally decided to take the stairs up to the fifth floor.

  The office contained dozens of tiny cubicles, each with a desk, a single chair, and just enough room for a phone and a laptop. Harsh fluorescent lights illuminated the work area. Men in white shirts and ties hunched over their computers while the women wore dark business suits. The place sounded like a beehive because of the hum of dozens of voices. A decidedly overweight blond female receptionist sitting behind the counter eyed Jack as if he were some kind of wildlife that had stumbled into the facility by mistake.

  “Could I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Paul Milburn. Please tell him Jack Starling is here.”

  The receptionist looked down at a directory and then gave Jack a perfunctory smile. “You can tell him yourself. He’s on the third row from the left, the fifth cubicle down.”

  Jack followed her directions and saw Milburn, clad in a white shirt that seemed too tight for his large chest and shoulders and a red tie. His muscular thighs seemed to bulge out of his dark slacks. He looked up from his laptop display and stared blankly for a moment until he recognized his visitor and placed him as someone outside the context of his workspace.

  “Jack? What the hell brings you here? I haven’t seen you since the trial. I thought maybe you were back in the hospital or something.”

  “Yeah, it’s been too long. Is this job Mary’s idea?”

  Milburn’s face flushed. “Kind of. Her dad owns the agency. It’s good steady pay.”

  Jack heard the defensiveness in his friend’s voice. “I’m glad. You’re way better off than me because I’m still looking. Could you step out of the office for a few minutes? I need to talk to you about something confidential.”

  Milburn rose and looked over the cubicles before turning back to Jack. “I’m entitled to a coffee break. You go downstairs and I’ll meet you in a few minutes. There are some tables and chairs around the side next to the little deli that’s closed right now.”

  Jack found a table under an umbrella and waited a few minutes before he saw Milburn coming down the stairs. He still moved like a leopard. It struck him that seeing his friend in that insurance agency full of tiny cubicles reminded him of some noble predator locked in a tiny cage at a zoo while the life slowly drained out of him. He’d never understand women. Did Mary have to pussy-whip him to the point that he became nothing more than a domesticated cat or dog with none of the fierce warrior left inside him?

  Jack studied his friend. Milburn’s eyes had the same wariness they had when he and Jack were stalking through hostile villages, yet now he seemed concerned about some pencil pusher in the office catching him
on a coffee break. Although he looked like a typical blond California surfer, his real talents lay in his ability to drive, fly, or fix anything mechanical. On top of that, he was a marksman and second only to Larson in the entire platoon when it came to shooting ability.

  “Moon’s in big trouble. A few of us are going in after him, but I know that could be a problem for you.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  Jack explained. Each time he repeated the story it sounded more unbelievable.

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yes, I’m serious. Ricky and Larson are in. I think I know what Mary would say.”

  “Let me handle Mary. I took a vow with you guys. I’m about ready to go postal and start shooting up the office. I put in eight fucking hours a day pushing life insurance policies to people who don’t need them, and then I have to put up with Mary telling me that Daddy says I need to work harder so he can promote me.”

  Jack wrote out his contact information and the time and date of the meeting. They shook hands. As Jack drove home, he wondered whether Mary would figure out a way to stop Paul.

  Chapter 13

  JACK REMEMBERED the times Cassandra knocked softly on his door and part of him still waited for her do it once again while he went through the motions of putting together an operation. He’d developed tactical plans for his unit many times, but this time was different for two reasons. He couldn’t get Cassandra out of his mind, and the enemy held one of his own team captive.

  Why didn’t Cassandra acknowledge him? If she did, maybe she’d be alive now. He remembered the last time they made love he’d promised himself that the next time she came over he’d pretend to doze off and then he’d follow her back to her place. He had wanted to know more about her. He hungered for her physically, but he also wanted to be more a part of her life even though he figured she was crazy. Now it was too late. He forced his mind back on the job at hand and spent four hours working on his tactical plan for Dulce. He studied the Dulce map in one of Hawk’s books and realized that it wouldn’t be a problem getting there; the special ID cards presented a challenge, though, and he couldn’t figure out a way they could get around them. Shooting their way in would be a nightmare. He looked at his watch and saw it was eleven, and he remembered Cassandra’s previous visits around that time. Well, that wasn’t going to happen anymore.