-- GENERAL WILLIAM T. SHERMAN, U.S. ARMY
TWENTY-FIVE
In most cases the higher echelon of the U.S. government moves slowly, like a glacier that covers ground in increments of inches measured by years and multiplied by aeons. The country found out early on that knee-jerk reactions to situations brought innumerable consequences in losses of personnel and material. But when faced with a moment in time that had been anticipated for years and planned for by a man of former senator Garrison Lee's genius, he had no fewer than fourteen five-inch-thick files on different military responses to the Event in the desert. They covered everything from urban warfare with the animal to the scenario they now faced, but he had never planned anything for subterranean scenarios.
But now the senator was rumored to be dying. The story of his collapse had spread like wildfire throughout the Event facility and even as far as the National Security Council, giving ammunition to those who wanted the Event removed from the Group's hands.
Sarah McIntire stood in the Group's small chapel on that Sunday morning, watching as Father Carmichael went through the mechanics of his delivery. A standing-room-only crowd lined the areas along the walls. As Sarah listened, the sermon droned on. But her mind was somewhere other than the chapel that morning; she was wondering if the Discovery team in Arizona had yet been told of the senator's collapse. She hoped the news had been passed on to her roommate and other members of the advance team.
As the congregation was rising for a hymn specially selected for the senator, she was suddenly pulled away from the wall. She turned and saw a member of the geology team she had trained with for the past year, Steve Hanson.
"Come on," he said loudly just as her beeper went off.
Sarah closed the hymnal and handed the book over to a neighbor and followed the man out of the chapel. She raised the beeper and saw the word ALERT in small, neat letters across the top.
"What is it?" she asked, pulling her arm free of the excited man.
"Our team has been placed on full field alert status!" Hanson said excitedly as he hurried to the chapel doors.
Before they could open them, the sound of over a hundred other beepers started blaring around them, and others started to stand and leave.
The Event Group was going to war.
Superstition Mountains, Arizona
07.40 Hours
The site on the rock-strewn mountainside was astounding. It had been transformed from a crash site into a small city of tents and trailers in less than two hours. All had been airlifted in by Pave Low helicopters, the largest that could be supplied by the Twenty-third Special Operations Group out of Nellis and the Seventeenth SOG out of March Air Force Base in California. The ground was littered with people as well as debris. A thousand little red and yellow flags had already been placed to mark pieces of wreckage from the vehicle.
A three-way COMM and video link was hooked up between Nellis, Washington, and the crash site, so Compton could see not only Collins, but also the president and his national security staff in Washington. Jack could also view them on two monitors that Lisa had installed moments before the link was brought online. Jack had already given a preliminary report to Niles moments before the others joined in.
"So what have you got so far, Major Collins?" Compton asked for the benefit of Washington.
"What we have here is a high-speed impact on solid terrain of a vehicle of other than Earth origin. The wreckage was spread out in a V pattern, indicating a high-velocity crash," Jack said as he looked into both monitors, which showed Niles at Group Center and the president in Washington. He knew the president had flown back to the White House in the middle of the night and was most likely in no mood for lengthy reports. He guessed right.
"Any survivors of the crash, Major?" the president asked pointedly.
"Our forensic team, led by the Group's Dr. Gilliam, have recovered two bodies of what she calls 'extraterrestrial beings,'" Jack answered, removing the Kevlar helmet and wiping his brow with a clean handkerchief.
"Okay, Major," General Wayne Crawford, Commandant of the Marine Corps said, the camera sliding over to his chair in the White House Situation Room far beneath the surface of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, "we received your request on Delta and Ranger reinforcement and have approved, they are in the air. Now, what of this animal, any remains found as of yet?"
Collins explained about their not finding any remains in any of the cages and the finding of the acid canisters.
"From this information from our ground team, coupled with the fact we now have two missing state troopers and a mass of cattle slaughtered, and with the holes we have discovered, we must conclude we have at least one burrowing-type aggressor species roaming the desert, sir."
"Damn," the president said. "Can you track this animal by using the tunnels it has dug?"
"Yes, sir, we are bringing tunnel and geology teams in and are going to reassess when they arrive. We are currently stripping all our department resources at the Group. Our security teams will be stretched the most, so the extra assault element of Rangers and Delta will be dispersed among them."
"The Joint Chiefs would like to send more, but they haven't any. They're recalling several strike units from Afghanistan."
Collins glanced over at his minimal security staff. Only fifty-two men sat at the tables inside the mess tent, not counting the twenty Event Group geologists and tunnel people getting ready to leave Nellis. He had dispatched Ryan and Mendenhall to the small town below to assist the air force in their drops.
"Thank the Chiefs for me, sir. We'll definitely need them as we don't exactly know what we'll run into down there, and I also suspect we'll find other points where the animal has entered and exited the earth, like out at"--he looked at his notes--"this Tahchako ranch that was hit last night and a few others that were also struck. We may have to break our geology and tunnel specialists into groups and divide a serious amount of security around them."
"What about secrecy matters at this point, Major?"
"Well, it shouldn't pose a problem due to the fact that they'll be led by actual military line officers from the Event Group. No need in telling them anything more about our little complex under Nellis. Also I have requested air cover for the valley until my teams can get into action, just in case the animal comes shallow before we're ready. Also, after they come in contact with the animal, Niles and the senator suggested not disclosing the animal's origin to the troops outside of the Group. We'll just say it is an engineered species."
The president turned and conferred with General Maxwell Hardesty, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. "Can you take care of the air request, General?"
The air force general grimaced. "Yes, sir, air won't be a problem. The town will be secured by a company from the 101st Airborne. They will also control access to the town; we are now in the process of shutting the door with the cover story. As the major stated, the 101st need not know about the nature of the agency leading them, and they have already signed secrecy and disclosure papers. Also I already have a fighter element in the air that will be on station over the valley momentarily."
"Very good, it's a start," said the president.
"What was the other item at the crash site, Major?" someone out of view of the camera's lens asked.
"Who is it I am addressing, sir?"
"This is Director Godlier of Central Intelligence."
"Well, Mr. Director, we have footprints. They were obviously made by a man likely arriving sometime after the crash as the prints are recent. We believe he may have possibly helped the surviving crewman, if there was one, escape the area."
The president looked around him, then at Collins two and a half thousand miles away. "Then we may have caught a break?"
. "Yes, sir, this man may have been of some assistance to the survivor. We do suspect the crewman may have been injured because of the severity of the crash, but of course we would only be guessing at the extent of that injury or injuries."
"
Very well, keep us informed." The president hesitated a moment. "Major, here is what we have done on our end. If our teams fail to contain the animal, I suspect we'll have a full-scale war on our hands that we can't keep from the American public. The Eighty-second Airborne is now on alert and already in transit for positioning in either Phoenix or El Paso in case the animal escapes containment. The Fourth Marine Expeditionary Force is on alert for possible action in Los Angeles and the bulk of Southern California. Fort Hood has been alerted and elements of armor CAV are being loaded onto trains as we speak to block any possible movement north into Colorado. That's it, Major, I'm afraid, as the general said, we are spread thin. So try and come up with a plan that will utilize those men we can get to that valley, and for God's sake, contain whatever this thing is." The view of the president and the Situation Room blacked out.
On the other side of the split screen, Niles looked grave.
"How is the senator?" Jack asked Niles as he tossed his Kevlar helmet to Everett, who had stepped out of the mess tent.
"Alice is with him at the center's clinic. He's due to be transferred upstairs to the Nellis base hospital in a while."
"Not good then?" Jack asked.
"No, I'm afraid not."
"Niles, we need to speed things up. Besides the special material I've requested from the private sector"--Jack looked at his notes again--"Dr. Gilliam here at the site has asked for a connection to be made to Helicos BioSciences in Cambridge. They have a high-speed DNA sequencer they've been working on that just may fit the bill here to get a firm grasp on this animal. She says our portable stuff is prehistoric when compared to what Helicos has in the works."
"I'll get on it right away"
Niles saw Josh Crollmier approach Jack from the side and tug on his sleeve, pulling him away from the camera. Compton looked at Alice in confusion as the voices off camera were muffled. But he was pretty sure it was Crollmier, speaking rather adamantly. He could also hear other members of the ground team shouting and carrying on. Suddenly an ashen-faced Collins stepped back into camera view. He ran a hand through his hair again and looked into the lens.
"What now, Jack?" Niles asked.
Jack once again focused on the camera. Others around the site stopped and watched him, eavesdropping for any information they could get. Collins reached out and snatched something from Crollmier and held it up. It was a piece of wreckage.
"The doc here says we have a problem. He says we don't have the wreckage of one saucer here, we have two. Ryan's Phoenix missile must have caused the attacking craft catastrophic damage, enough to bring it down right next to the other ship."
Niles sat hard on the edge of the conference table.
TWENTY-SIX
Chato's Crawl, Arizona
July 9, 08.30 Hours
Julie placed the plate of scrambled eggs in front of Billy as he pulled the napkin from the bar and placed it on his lap. He looked at the eggs and bacon without much enthusiasm as he yawned.
"Man, that sure smells good."
Billy turned and saw two men standing there. Juan and Carmella Lopez, his mother's cleaning people, were still in the midst of vacuuming and washing the last of Saturday night's dirty dishes. They went stock-still, looking at the two newcomers. One was a small, dark-haired man and the other a big black fellow who stood ramrod straight and smiling. They were dressed totally in black, weapons holstered across their chests and black helmets under their arms.
"Can I help you?" Julie asked suspiciously as she placed a knife and fork in front of her son.
"Well, ma'am, you can if you can serve us what that young gentleman is having," the smaller of the two said as he removed a pair of black gloves.
Julie gave the two men the once-over. They were dirty and, of all things, wore black nylon jumpsuits. Her eyes traveled to the black boots and bloused pants. As she watched, the small man unsnapped his body armor from his chest.
"This is Sunday, we're closed until noon, I'm sorry."
The small man looked around and saw the two cleaning people, then smiled and winked at them. "Yes, ma'am, that's exactly what the sign said in the window. But the sergeant and I would forever be in your debt if you could give us something that's not freeze-dried and full of sand."
"Marines?" she asked, noticing the word freeze-dried and the outfits.
"Not on your life, ma'am," the taller, black man said, not smiling a bit.
"Special Operations Group, Mrs....?" the smaller of the two started to ask.
She watched the two men for a moment, seeing the dirty faces around clean spots where goggles had previously been. She knew they had come in from the desert, because her son always had the same dirty face after riding around in the scrub.
"You don't look too special to me, and it's Ms."
The man stepped to the bar and looked at the boy, then down at his plate of food. "Hi, there, my name's Ryan," he said as he looked from the boy to his mother. "Well, my mama said I was special," he said in answer to her statement. "What's your name, little man?"
"B... B... Billy," he stuttered.
"This is my son, and I would appreciate you talking with me and not him," Julie said.
Ryan flinched. He was not used to having a woman come down on him that quickly, at least until they knew him a little better.
"Sorry, ma'am, didn't mean any harm." He brought his right hand up and lightly touched his chest. "I'm Lieutenant Jason Ryan, United States Navy." Then he stuck his hand out to the woman. "The prideful army-type fella behind me is Staff Sergeant Mendenhall."
Julie looked at the outstretched hand, then wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist, then took the lieutenant's hand in her own and nodded over Ryan's shoulder at Mendenhall.
"Looks like no navy uniform I've ever seen, and I apologize, we're kind of on edge around here," she said, arching her left eyebrow.
Ryan looked down at his dusty black nylon jumpsuit, then the holstered nine-millimeter pistol. "Oh, this old thing." He looked up and met her green eyes. "Doing some fieldwork out there." He gestured out the window and into the desert beyond. "We're the good guys, really."
"What'll you have?" Julie asked in defeat.
"You mean you're open?"
"No, we're still closed, but I can make you something because the grill's still hot. Does your quiet friend want something?" she asked, going through the batwing doors that separated the kitchen from the bar.
"Yes, ma'am, eggs over easy and sausage would be fine, and some coffee if you have it," Mendenhall answered.
Ryan set his helmet on the long mahogany bar and pulled up a stool next to the boy. He heard and felt Mendenhall do the same to his left. Jason nodded at the boy. "Going to be some loud noises here in about ten minutes," Ryan said quietly, and winked.
Billy paused with a forkful of scrambled eggs halfway to his mouth and looked at the man in the funny suit. "Really?"
"Really. Going to be some very big planes setting down on Highway Eighty-eight right out there just about a half mile from town." Ryan looked at his filthy face in the mirror behind the bar.
As of one-half hour from now, the small town would be under quarantine. No one would be allowed in, and for the time being, no one would be going out until escorted out by armed security and placed in a safe hotel far, far away in Phoenix.
"All of this is for whatever's out there?" Billy asked, pointing toward the window with his now empty fork.
Ryan and Mendenhall exchanged looks, then Ryan smiled and looked down at the boy seated to his right.
"Out there?"
Billy took a drink of the milk his mother had given him. When he set the glass down, a nice white milk mustache covered the boy's upper lip.
"Yeah, whatever it is that's out there," he said, exasperated at the slow wit of the navy guy.
"You think something's out in the desert?" Jason asked.
Billy glanced at the batwing doors and heard his mother out in the kitchen making cooking noises. Then the boy just s
hrugged his shoulders and slid off the stool. "I have to go now," he said, grabbing an off-road helmet from the table behind him.
Ryan looked at the sergeant again, then back at the young boy. "Come on, you saw something out there?"
Billy placed the helmet on his head, squishing his ears against his head as he did so. "That's what I mean, mister, I haven't seen anything"
"What do you mean by that?" Mendenhall asked, leaning back on the barstool.
Billy stopped and turned. "Late yesterday I seen a whole bunch of rabbits and coyotes running away from the mountains, and since then I haven't seen anything, not even birds. It's like they were scared of something." The boy shrugged his shoulders, then walked out of the dining area.
"Hey, you stay close by because--"
But the boy wasn't listening. He was already through the door.
The two men were quiet as they watched the boy leave the bar and grill. Then they turned and Mendenhall shrugged.
Julie came through the door with two platters. She set them down in front of the two men and slapped napkins with silverware rolled up inside beside the two heaping plates. Then she wiped her hands and looked out of the large window in time to see Billy leave on his ATV.
"Damn, that looks good," Jason said.
"You didn't say how you wanted your eggs, so I just made them like I made the sergeant's" Julie said to Ryan, reaching for the coffeepot under the bar.
"Well, you guessed right," Jason replied, diving into his eggs and sausage.
As the two men ate their breakfast, Jason noticed a man on the television set above the bar. He was holding a microphone to his silent lips, with a caption below it that read, Capitol Building, Phoenix, Arizona.
"Ma'am, could you turn that up?" Ryan asked Julie.
Julie reached up and turned up the volume on the television set.
"... said the disappearance of the two state troopers has law enforcement agencies statewide on the alert. Now Eyewitness News has learned of a possible military deployment to the mountains just northeast of the small town of Chato's Crawl. What this means is anyone's guess, but there is a rumor starting from the halls of the capitol stating there may be some sort of outbreak among cattle in the nearby area. This is Ken Kashihara, Channel Seven, Eyewitness News, at the capitol building in Phoenix. Back to the newsroom."
Event (event group thrillers) Page 30