“I was walking with my dog, Trig, when the UFO landed; yeah, landed. Next thing I know Trig bolts off. Poor thing was terrified. I couldn’t see him anywhere. When I looked back, the UFO had gone, and there was this alien cat woman; no kidding she had a tail, the lot. I couldn’t believe it. I had my mobile phone. It’s got a camera function; so I took the picture. But she saw me; I thought she was going to kill me. I started to run and fell over in the soft sand. When I looked back, she had gone and Trig was racing back.”
“You said in your first interview, she came out of the craft. Is that correct?”
“Must have, where else could she have come from?”
“You saw her come out of the craft? This is important; I need you to confirm that.”
“Oh, I don’t know… It was dark. Trig ran off. I assumed she must have come from the craft.”
“You said she was alien; why did you think that?”
“She had a tail. I mean a real tail. This was no fancy dress costume. It was real; I swear it.”
“What happened to the craft?”
“I don’t know, one minute it was there. Then Trig ran off, and when I looked back, it was gone. No sign of it anywhere.”
“Didn’t you hear anything, like an engine? Feel anything like heat or a blast of air?”
“No, nothing, nothing at all. If I hadn’t taken the picture, I might have thought I had imagined the whole thing. It was weird.”
“What about the blue light, before it disappeared?”
“Blue light? I don’t know.”
She studied his face. He was too stupid to try to lie to her. He must be telling the truth, or at least what he thinks is his version of the truth.
“Did you see the other guy? The jogger on the beach?”
“What other guy? I didn’t see anyone.”
She paused to think whether it was worth asking him any more questions and concluded it was not.
“Just one more thing. If anyone asks you, you didn’t see this craft.”
“But I… Oh, I get you. No, I didn’t see nothing.”
“Okay, you can go,” she said.
A look of surprise came across his face, as though a light bulb had come on. “You mean I can go home? What about Trig?”
“I’ll arrange for you both to be taken back,” she said, as she walked out of the door.
A few minutes later, she was back with the Major.
“I see you’ve lost none of your usual tact. At least you didn’t water-board him,” said the Major.
“Ha, ha, very funny,” she said. “He really believes he saw an alien cat woman.”
“There’s something else you need to know. He’s a fully-paid-up member of the geek brigade. Before we picked him up, he e-mailed the photograph to one of these UFO geek websites at the local university. The chances are it’s all over the web by now.”
“Doesn’t matter. Who’s going to believe them? It’s what geeks do. First thing you learn at the CIA is that, unless you’re caught red handed doing something wrong, deny everything.”
“That might work in the US, but it’s more difficult here.”
“What about the university lecturer; can I interview him?”
“You can watch through the two-way mirror. He needs to be handled with kid gloves, and I think I’m more qualified.”
“Okay,” said Daniels, “I don’t mind watching.”
Ben looked at his watch. It was 10:00 pm, and he had been waiting for the results of his tests all day. The medical, the day before, had taken a couple of hours and was as thorough as Ben had ever had. They tested his cardiovascular system, his lung function, eyesight and hearing as well as a detailed body examination and a MRI scan. He had also had to give DNA samples and was told they might take some time to process. He had been given a room for the night and had been waiting all day. The only contact with the outside world was with a soldier who brought him his meals, and the phone call he made to Jane, during the day.
A few minutes later, a soldier knocked at the door and asked Ben to follow him. He was taken back to a room to meet Major Jones. Also in the room was a tall well-built man, with short-cropped blond hair and an expensive cut suit.
Major Jones smiled at him and asked him to sit down.
“Mr Turner, I have your results, and I am pleased to say there is absolutely nothing for you to worry about. You are in pretty good shape, although you could still do a little bit more exercise if you want to remain that way. There is absolutely no trace of any of the toxins in your system, and you’ll be glad to know that there is no evidence of genetic damage.”
“That’s a relief,” said Ben.
“This is Mr Taylor, from MI6, who would like to have a few words with you before you are taken back to the university. I’ll leave you with him.” And she left the room.
The man held out his hand to Ben and gave him a firm handshake. “My friends call me, Major, after my time in the SAS,” he said. “I’m sorry you were extracted from the beach in the way you were, but we didn’t know what threats we faced at the time. We had to get you out quickly.”
He had a smooth confident tone to his voice and spoke quickly and precisely. “I need your help to determine what happened last night. Can you tell me, in your own words, what you saw?”
“I was just out jogging and this craft — a saucer-shaped vehicle — flew over me somewhat erratically. I thought it crashed further up the beach, but it was difficult to tell. I remember seeing a blue flash, but by the time I got there, there was nothing there. It was as though it had vanished into thin air.”
“Could it have crashed into the sea?” said the Major.
“I really don’t know; it was a cloudy night, and I only caught glimpses of it in the moonlight. I am sorry I just don’t know,” said Ben.
“Anything you can tell me about the craft, or the way it was behaving?”
“Not really. The spooky thing was that it was so silent — no engine noise at all — like a glider.”
“Yes, we think the engines failed.”
“But such an odd shape. I can see why people thought it might have been a UFO.”
“So you’ve seen the news reports today.”
“There was a television in my room. Nothing else to watch all day.”
“Unfortunately, the incident has created a bit of hysteria among the geek brigade. I can’t tell you much about the craft because it’s top secret, but it is the unusual design that gives it its stealth capacity. Did you see anyone else on the beach?”
“No. I heard a dog barking. I presume there was someone walking a dog, but I didn’t see them.”
“Yes, we picked him up; anyone else? We thought there might have been someone else on the beach — a woman. If so, we need to get hold of her quickly. They might not have been as lucky as you.”
“Lucky?”
“I mean the contamination…”
“I didn’t see anyone… Oh, there were some footprints in the sand, but I have no idea how long they had been there.”
“Mr Turner, I would like to thank you for your cooperation. You will appreciate that this is embarrassing for the MOD. We can’t stop you speaking to the media, but if you do, please be very careful what you say. Journalists are clever at twisting the truth into a headline, and there has been enough hysteria about this already.”
“I just want to get home,” said Ben.
The Major paused for a second, “I’ve arranged transport for you back to the university. Just tell my driver where to drop you. Your motorbike will be returned to you tomorrow. If you remember anything else you can call me on this number.” He handed Ben a card. It simply had his name, John Taylor, and his phone number. Ben wondered if it was his real name; after all, he was a spook.
The Major stood up and motioned Ben towards the door. Outside in the hangar, was an S-class Mercedes waiting with a driver. Freedom at last, Ben thought, and I’m going back in style.
Daniels watched the interview unfold and wai
ted for the Major to return to the room. A few seconds later, he returned.
“What do you think,” he said.
“You didn’t exactly give him a hard time.”
“I had to create the right impression. It’s all part of the cover-up campaign. I want him to go to the press.”
“What if he doesn’t want to go to the press?”
“Oh, he will. Or the press will find him; I’ll make sure of that.”
“But we’re no closer to finding out what happened to the craft, or this mysterious cat woman,” said Daniels.
“I don’t think he can help us. But I have some more information for you. Around about 11:25 p.m. we picked up something interesting on a local traffic CCTV, about five miles away from the site,” he said, pointing to a monitor on his desk.
Daniels studied the monitor, as it played-back the video of a lorry passing traffic lights. The only usual feature is that there were two people in the cab: the driver and a young woman with blonde hair.
“Have you traced the vehicle?” said Daniels.
“Yes, we have spoken to the company and have arranged to interview the driver first thing tomorrow. I suggest you and Carla meet him, and see what information you can get about his passenger.”
“Fine with me.”
“In that case, Carla will collect you from your hotel at 07:30 hours tomorrow… It’s late. Do you want a lift back to the Excelsior?”
“That would be nice. Perhaps we could have a nightcap together?”
“It’s been a long day. Can I take a rain check on the nightcap?”
“We’ll do it another time,” she said.
He smiled at her and led her out the door.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was almost midnight, when the Mercedes pulled up outside Jane’s flat. Ben was tired and frustrated after an annoying day. He thanked the driver and entered the flat.
The lounge was in darkness. Ben turned the light on. After the air-conditioned Mercedes, the flat seemed hot and stuffy. Ben just wanted to get out of the army boiler suit and have a proper shower to get rid of the smell of chlorine from his skin. He wanted to forget the day ever happened. And he was desperate to take a leak. With Jane on call that evening, he had the flat to himself. He went into his bedroom, kicked off his plimsolls, and stripped down to his boxers.
Now in a mental daze, he walked out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, dropped his boxers on the floor and stood over the toilet bowl. As he started to pee, he let out a long sigh of relief. He shouldn’t have drunk as much as he did in the car, but it is not every day that you are chauffeured in a car with a drinks cabinet. And it was a long journey.
Just as he started to relax, he heard a cough behind him and turned his head to look.
Standing there soaking wet was a naked young woman, who had obviously just got out of the shower. She stood there dripping on the floor, not knowing quite where to look while Ben continued to pee. One arm covered her breasts the other hand held a face cloth placed strategically over her crutch.
“Err-hmm. I was in the shower when you came in.”
“Who the hell are you?” said Ben.
“I’m Elle, your new flatmate; I presume you’re Ben. Can you pass me the towel, please?”
“As you can see, my hands are busy at the moment… Jane didn’t say anything about a new flatmate.”
“She said she would send you a text.”
“Well, I’m hardly in a position to check right now.”
“Don’t you believe me?”
“What if you’re a burglar?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. What do you think I’m stealing — the water? Now be a gentleman and pass me my towel.”
Ben finished his pee and shook himself. He picked up the towel and paused for a moment to think.
“Pass me the towel!”
“Here,” he said, finally passing it to her. “You can have my towel.”
She started to dry herself.
He was not sure what to do. The young woman was between him and the door, and his boxers were on the floor behind her. If he was to retrieve them, he would need to move past her. He started to move forward.
“What are you doing?” she said, staring at him wide-eyed.
“Look I’m not going to hurt you. I just thought I would leave you to it.”
“I’m finished. You can have the shower now to yourself.”
She wrapped the towel around her and turned around to go out the door.
“But you’ve got my towel,” he said.
She turned towards him staring daggers at him.
“This is my towel,” she said spitting out the words.
“No, it’s not; it’s mine. How am I going to take a shower without it?”
Her face flushed with anger.
“Then take it,” she said, and hurled the towel at his head.
As he retrieved the towel from his head, he saw her storm out of the bathroom naked. He watched her cute rear as she walked across the lounge and into the spare bedroom leaving tiny pools of water in her wake. She was muttering obscenities and fuming with anger, as she slammed the bedroom door behind her.
Ben wrapped the towel around him, went over to her bedroom door and knocked on it.
“Look I’ve been a jerk. I’m really sorry,” he said.
He heard footsteps coming towards the door, and the door inched open. She scowled at him through the crack and glanced down at the towel wrapped around his waist. The door slammed shut.
“Leave me alone,” she said.
Ben heard the lock on the bedroom door engage.
“That went well,” he muttered under his breath.
This was not the time to seek reconciliation; he would have to try again in the morning. He went to his bedroom to turn in for the night. As he turned on the light, he saw lying on the end of his bed and folded, was a blue towel, almost identical to the one he was wearing around his waist. Dam, dam, dam. Tomorrow he would have to apologise; he had been a complete idiot.
It was 1:30 a.m. and Richard Bromley was working on his ‘GreyZone’ website: a website for UFO geeks. It was not unusual for Richard to work on his laptop into the early hours. He loved the stillness of the night, and was quite prepared to work in his bedsit while others slept away. His bedsit was basic: a bed, a desk, bookshelf and wardrobe were all he needed, and his only possession of any value was his laptop.
Richard was a career student: he had changed courses at the university so many times, he wondered in the morning just which course he was still on. He started doing a Sociology degree, then Economics and now Physics and Electronics. ‘If indeed you don’t succeed try again’ is the age-old saying, but Richard was running out of options. The only thing that still kept him at university was the somewhat optimistic expectation of his parents, who had invested in a private education, and his love of the university social life.
Richard loved the weirdo scene; that was his problem. He spent too much time with the weird and the wonderful at the university and had no time left for studying. He knew he was a geek, with an exceptionally high IQ; but passing examinations was not his forte. He even enjoyed dressing as a geek. At five feet seven inches and slender build, he definitely didn’t have the physique to attract most normal women. With pebble glasses, a fuzz-ball of unruly hair reminiscent of a 70’s rock star, and a stale old jumper, it meant that anyone who found him attractive had to be weird, blind and with no sense of smell. His underwear was a joke; each pair of his boxers had a label inside it for each month of the year. It was his own private joke with himself. But his passion was the Internet, alien encounters and his own website: GreyZone. Because of his website and because of his unusual interest, the UFO sighting had brought a huge increase in e-mails into his mailbox in the last twenty-four hours.
Richard opened his mailbox; there were over two hundred new e-mails from friends, fellow geeks and users of his website. All were associated with the new UFO sighting. One e-mail contained an audio com
mentary from Air Traffic Control as the UFO came into UK air space. The air traffic controller was shouting and frantically trying to shift air traffic out of the flight path of the rogue craft. There were further sightings over Birmingham East Midlands Airport; but the vast majority were from people in the local coastal area not thirty miles from the university campus. Some contained pictures and others oral reports about unusual incidents. Some e-mails drew attention to the power cuts in the coastal area about the same time the UFO was sighted. Others reported that the military had cordoned off the whole area of the headland and had set up a quarantine area. Other claims seemed more exaggerated of sightings of alien beings of various sizes and descriptions on the sea front. By any stretch of the imagination, this was a major UFO incident. Surely, the government could not cover this one up; so many people had witnessed it.
Then an unusual picture, in an e-mail attachment, caught his eye: a night photograph shot of a woman silhouetted in the moonlight with the UFO behind her. She seemed to be naked or wearing the tightest of catsuits that emphasised all the curves of her body. Richard loved the shot. She looked so sexy. This photograph at least would go on his website tonight.
Richard soaked it all up into his conscious mind. He loved the thought that perhaps aliens may be walking on earth right now. He thought again about the picture of the woman and the UFO. Perhaps the woman was some kind of alien hybrid that looked human, but with alien DNA; or an abductee that they were returning home. By this time, his imagination was running riot.
Richard was still day dreaming when he heard the sound of his e-mail indicating a new message. It was from Serge, a Russian geek hacker who shared similar interests as Richard. The difference was Serge was a hacker of the most prodigious kind. Safe in the knowledge that no one would extradite him from mother Russia, Serge routinely hacked NASA and the security services in the US.
Richard opened the message.
Hi Dick,
I have proof positive that UFOs exist. The American’s plane collided with one last night. I’ve sent you a separate e-mail. See the MP4 attachment included, courtesy of NASA. Put it on your website and show rest of the world. The Greys are here!
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