“Crystal! Yes Sir! Yes General!” Suddenly everyone was trying to do everything at once.
General Reed impaled the senior NCO of the EMT personnel with his eyes. “You. Senior Sergeant. Take the Colonels to the hospital. Get them there in good order or you will wish you were never born. And tell the Doctors that I will be there and these officers had better be receiving the best care possible. Or else. Understood?”
“Yes General.”
General Reed wished that Torbin and Ichiro were here. They would go through these nimrods like butter, kicking ass and taking names. Then he realized. The sun was rising. The attack on Key West should be in full swing.
The General hotfooted it back to his staff car, where his driver already had it running and in gear. “Sergeant Pascal, hospital, lights and siren.”
“Yes Sir.” He took off like a shot. He was selected as the General’s driver because he had some pre-strike experience with NASCAR. He beat everyone to the hospital by a wide margin. General Reed jumped out of the car, not giving the Sergeant the chance to open his door.
“Once again, Sergeant Pascal, an excellent ride. Keep the motor running.”
“Yes Sir, General.”
Five minutes later, as Bettie was being wheeled into the ER, General Reed had almost the entire hospital staff on notice. “Screw this up, and you’d be up doing ear, nose and throat examines on the remaining Canadians in the Yukon.”
“She’s going into shock. Get an IV going. Colonel, can you hear me? Good. Hang in there. Focus on me. Atta girl.”
Cliff stood by helplessly, watching his love being poked and prodded. He felt heartened when some color finally began to return to her cheeks.
“She’ll be okay, Cliff.” General Reed had snuck up on him. “Quick and dirty. What happened?”
“General, she saw something that shouldn’t be done by fellow humans.”
“What was that?” Cliff told him in a few sentences, no frills. He saw General Reed’s jaw tighten to the point that Cliff thought his teeth would shatter.
“You were kept incognito on Platform One for six years, and had no indication what they were up to?”
Cliff took a deep breath. “General–John–to be honest, I think I was trying to be purposefully ignorant. Out of sight, out of mind. I was selfish, trying to survive. Then, we saw those… babies. The love of my life may never be the same again.”
John Reed knew Cliff Hunter as one of the toughest, most competent fighter pilots he had ever known. He knew of Cliff’s final kamikaze mission and, like everyone else, thought he was dead. Just like Captain Bender’s brother, William. But while he survived, his soul was in hell.
General Reed then did a very un-General thing. He put his arm around his old friend.
“Cliff, it will get better. I promise you. She will live. She’s tough. We know all about her history over her last six years. She survived just like you, doing what she had to do.” He pulled back his arm. “We will work this out. There is a certain Madam President that will want to formally debrief both of you.”
Cliff wiped his eyes. “I’ m at your service, General. Just, if you need to shoot someone, shoot me. Bettie has suffered enough.”
General Reed chuckled. “Colonel, people have done a lot worse than you and were not shot. Just be honest when you talk to Madame President. That old she bear gets pissed when somebody lies to her.”
About an hour later, Bettie had markedly improved, even if she still felt like there was a huge weight on her shoulders. A light sedative had helped calm her down so that she has stopped alternating between nausea and hyperventilating. She had difficulty closing her eyes, however. Images from the lab kept replaying in her mind. She was in a private room, with two Security Policemen standing guard. From what she had overheard, this had more to do with General Reed demanding she be protected than to keep her from fleeing. She did not remember meeting John Reed while on active duty. But, since he was friends with Cliff, she knew he was a cut above other men.
There was a light knocking on the hospital room door. An attractive woman in Russian military fatigues entered, and saluted. “Colonel Bardun, Captain Aleksandra Smirnov of the Free Russian Military. Madam President asked me to check in on you before she met you. And, my apologies, but she also instructed me to ask you a few questions. Are you well enough?”
Bettie nodded yes. “Go ahead and ask away, Captain. But if I suddenly freeze up, I apologize ahead of time.”
Aleksandra, with years of interrogation training and experience, could tell something horrific had shaken Bettie to the core. The Colonel had a feral look of fear and shock in her eyes, the type of expression Aleks had seen when someone had undergone torture. But, she had her orders to try and obtain answers.
“Colonel, what made you and Colonel Hunter flee?”
Bettie sat still for a moment. “Well, it was like this. I killed a vicious sick bitch… I mean, a human scientist working for the Tschaaa. She was doing some… things that made Mengele look like a boy scout.” Tears began to stream down as she stared into space, her eyes focused on something horrific from another time and place. “I stabbed her in the eye, cut her throat, and then I puked on her.”
“Colonel…”
“I killed her. And I wish I could do it, again, and again, and again!
Aleksandra recognized that Bettie was about to go into severe psychological shock. She slapped the Colonel’s face. Not too hard, just hard enough to break the psychic loop she was about to enter, reliving something her mind did not want to relive. In a flash, Bettie’s eyes refocused on Aleksandra. She began to wail. Not any type of wail that Aleks had ever heard before, but a wail from deep within the soul of a person who had just seen the face of evil itself.
Aleksandra stepped out of her role as interrogator and into her humanity as a woman. She went to the bed and hugged Bettie to her chest. She lapsed into Ukrainian, which had been her mother’s language, forgotten when she had been forced by her Russian father to adopt his tongue instead. Before she realized it, she was cooing and whispering the same reassurances her mother had said to her as a little girl. When a Security Officer tried to enter the room to see who was wailing, her Russian military training came to the fore.
“Get out. Now! I will call you if I need you.” Her focus returned to Bettie. “It is over, dear lady. It is over. You are safe. You are with good men and women again. It is a bad dream, which will fade with time. Trust me. I know.”
Finally, Bettie stopped wailing. Still holding on tight to Aleksandra, she quickly blurted out what she had witnessed.
For a few minutes after, the two women still clung to each other, finding comfort from the warmth of another human body. Bettie finally let go of Aleks. She tried to wipe her eyes with a corner of the bed sheet, but Aleks produced a very feminine lace handkerchief.
“Here. My Yankee husband gave me a set of these before leaving. Pretty, isn’t it?” Bettie wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and then realized she had made a mess of Aleks’ present.
“I’m so sorry, Captain.”
“My name is Aleks, Colonel. May I call you Bettie?” Bettie nodded her consent. “Thank you. It is now yours. Keep it as a sign of a new beginning. Now, I must fetch Madam President. She wishes to have a few words with you. Are you up to it?” Bettie nodded again. “Good. Rest here. I will be back shortly.” Aleks patted her leg, smiled, and left the room.
“Men, I will be back shortly with Madam President. Do not bother the Colonel unless she asks. And, as my husband Torbin would say, ‘stay frosty’. Understood?
“Yes, Ma’am,” the two Security Policemen answered in perfect unison. Aleks turned and strode down the hallway.
“That’s Captain Bender’s wife?” one soldier asked the other.
“Yes, I guess she is. Man, I bet you he doesn’t piss her off. She acts like she would cut your nut sack off in your sleep, and stick it in your mouth for grins.”
The both chuckled, and then, remembering Captain Smirn
ov’s admonition, returned to parade rest, stern looks on their faces.
Aleks rushed down the hospital corridor and rounded the corner. She made a beeline for a ladies restroom, entered, and stepped directly into a stall. When she was certain that alone for the moment, she bent over and vomited into the toilet bowl. She wiped her mouth with toilet paper, flushed, put the lid down, and sat. She began to sob quietly for about a minute or so, pulling out a handkerchief identical to the one she had just given away, and then dabbed at her eyes. She left the stall and went to the mirror for a quick light makeup repair.
The statement Bettie had given had shaken Aleks to her very core. Here she was, married all of two weeks, her husband on a very dangerous mission, and she was certain she was pregnant. Then to have in her mind image of babies, raised without brains, for food. It had hit her directly in the center of her body, where her own baby was developing.
Aleks pulled herself up straight and looked in the mirror. “You are a Free Russian officer,” she reminded herself. “You have responsibilities.” She inhaled, exhaled, gave herself a once over, and walked out of the restroom.
She found Madam President sitting with Mr. Williams in the cafeteria.
“Madam President, she is ready.”
“Please wait here, George. I need to have some girl talk with the good Colonel.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
Aleks and Madam President walked toward the hospital room. In a few concise sentences, Aleks told the President what the two Colonels had seen, and why they had fled Platform One. The President stopped short, staring at Aleks. “She…said…that?”
“Yes, Ma’am. And I have interrogated many a… subject. Her reactions were completely truthful.”
Madam President stood stock still. Then, she began to shake with rage.
“Those monsters! My God, we do things to our own species that the Tschaaa would not dream of doing to their own kind. Maybe they are right. We are a bunch of out of control monkeys who need someone to sit on them.”
The President saw Aleks’ reaction.
“Don’t worry Captain. Just an old she bear growling a bit, to let off steam. I think we can figure out how to handle our own problems without some ten limbed monstrosities telling us what to do. Let’s go see the Colonel.”
A couple of minutes later, the two guards were snapping to attention. “At ease, gentlemen. Relax. I don’t bite.”
The President knocked lightly on the door to Bettie’s room, and then she and Aleks entered. Bettie tried to sit up straight at the sight of the President. “Madam President. Sorry I cannot stand up, but I have these damned tubes…”
Sandra Paul walked straight up to Bettie’s bed. “Forget damned protocol. Woman to woman, give me a hug.” She sat on Bettie’s bed and they hugged. Bettie began to cry again. “It’ll be okay, dear. I can say that. I’m the damn President.” She hugged and rubbed Bettie’s back. President Sandra Paul noticed her own tears were beginning to flow. She untangled herself from Bettie, reached into the strapped large black purse she always carried and pulled out matching pink handkerchiefs. She handed one to the Colonel, and used the other to dab at her eyes.
Bettie wiped her eyes, and then spoke. “Madam President, I am asking for your mercy for me and for my husband, Colonel Cliff Hunter. I realize we have been working with the enemy, the Tschaaa. I ask that we be given a chance...”
“Now, stop that Bettie. I can call you Bettie, can’t I? Good.” The President continued. “You and your husband have not done anything that hundreds of thousands of others have done to survive this… infestation. Yes, I think that is a more accurate term than invasion or occupation. We have been infested by an alien species. They have been manipulating us ever since they landed. Besides, your escape has, by some great act of providence, helped us in our first great counter attack.”
“How so, Ma’am?” Bettie inquired.
“You took the attention off our units approaching Key West, distracting one important Falcon and robocop stationed there. The eyes in the sky were distracted also.”
“Distracted from what, Ma’am?”
“Well, it’s no secret now. Over an hour ago, a tactical nuke hit the Squid Lord’s stronghold off the tip of Key West. Initial reports are of heavy damage. We are hoping Lord Neptune is dead and is now irradiated fish food.”
Aleks looked at Madam President. “Any word about… my husband?”
She regarded the Russian Officer, a serious look on her face. “Sadly, no. The last we heard from Captain Bender was the signal that the assault on the Director’s quarters had begun. The nuke did what we hoped it would do…the majority of people at the Base headed toward hardened shelters. Their defense was disorganized. We have intercepted some transmissions from Director Lloyd’s Security Control at a listening post we had set up. They are running around like chickens with their heads cut off.”
Aleks still seemed concerned. “Now Captain, I ordered that crazy Marine you married to bring back my sainted husband’s .44 Mag pistol. You know he wouldn’t dare piss off this old she bear.” The three women laughed nervously. They all knew the cards were stacked against eliminating the Director.
The President turned toward Bettie, and began speaking in a lower volume. “All right. Now, listen carefully. You and Cliff Hunter were part of a super-secret plan to help distract the Tschaaa and the Director from our assault. That is why you left when you did. The death of the human scientist was part of the plan. Your extreme reactions were part of this plan. Only Captains Bender and Smirnov, my assistant, George Williams, General Reed and I were privy to your plan. You are heroes, not villains.”
“But, Ma’am, that would be a bald faced lie. We had to escape due to selfish actions on my part.” Bettie’s bottom lip began to quiver.
The President reached out and grabbed her hand. “Bettie, I believe everything happens for an eventual purpose. You, shall we say, ‘saw the light’, at just the right time. Who are you and I to defy divine providence? I know you want to punish yourself, to beat yourself up for surviving when others did not, for going back to space on a Tschaaa supported mission. But it helped you save Colonel Hunter. You brought the spaceplane here. You confirmed what we believed was going on with the ‘scientists’ on Platform One. Therefore, by the power vested in me as the President of the Unoccupied States, you and Cliff are pardoned for any past crimes, known or unknown. Penance is between you and God.”
Bettie sat quietly for a few moments. “I don’t deserve this. My Husband, Cliff, does. For his stake alone, I’ll agree and not ask for a formal court martial for consorting with the enemy.”
“You are extremely hard on yourself,” the President commented, shaking her head. “But at least you agreed to my plan. A side benefit to your escape dash is that there are now four fewer Squid pilots and deltas. One was taken out by mother nature and her lightning. Three went down to six Hawk missiles, two of those because they collided by trying to dodge the Hawks.There were more two deltas damaged, hit by ground fire from a concealed fifty caliber quad meat grinder that a military collector donated to us in working order.”
She chuckled. “Squids have a tendency to break off combat when their deltas are damaged, usually lacking the drive to risk pressing a kamikaze style attack. So, take my thanks and be done with it. Okay?”
Bettie swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes, Madam President. Maybe someday I’ll forgive myself.” She laid back in her bed. “Sorry, but I’m exhausted. I am going to ring my nurse and see if she will give me anything to help me sleep… without dreaming.”
Sandra Paul bent over and kissed her forehead. “Colonel, we are blessed that you and your husband are here. Please believe that. Now, get some rest. I will have Colonel Hunter come over soon to be with you.” Madam President intercepted the assigned nurse, and had her ring up the head nurse and senior doctor on shift. Two minutes later, she was giving them their marching orders. She departed shortly afterward with her assistant George, and Aleks.
“Thank you, Madam President.”
The President grasped Aleks’ other arm, and made full eye contact. “Thank you, my Free Russian friend. God willing, we women will save this planet. See you soon.”
The Perfect Storm had many fronts...
The moment Bettie Bardun was stabbing Doctor Smith in the eye out, Adam Lloyd was sitting at his desk. He had not been able to sleep, aside from a few fitful minutes here and there. No one likes to admit they had been made to play the fool. Especially not one of the most, if not the most powerful human on Earth. He could not stop his mind from working on the situation at hand.
He now knew, definitively, that the genetic and hormonal manipulation of humans had probably started before the first rock strike. How else could up to one hundred thousand humans actually buy into helping an alien species into occupying the Earth without some major manipulation? It made no sense, no matter how racist people were toward each other. He himself had been turned into a guinea pig–the ultimate manipulation–as had Kat, Mary, and untold others about whom he cared. This rested on squarely his shoulders. He had helped to rebuild a system, a society controlled by an alien species, all in the name of survival, of life, of the Protocol of Selective Survival. But, as a human, was it “living” to exist at the sufferance of a species as genetically different from human primates as they were from a scorpion? All life in the universe may started out with the same basic building blocks, but there the connections stopped. Although cephalopods were native to Earth, the Tschaaa were aliens. Illegal and hostile aliens, to be exact.
He sensed another human presence. Actually, there were two. Kat and Mary, soon to be official sister wives, softly padded in.
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