Winston Chase- The Complete Trilogy

by Bodhi St John

  The fresh reminder made her bitter and sad, like a dark stream pouring into the clear happiness of being here and waking to those heavenly breakfast smells, exactly like in the summers of her younger years. Everything had changed so suddenly that autumn. Grammy Rose’s death, followed seven weeks later by her mom and dad’s temporary separation. Grandpa Clayton had never liked her dad, and, without Grammy there to keep him in check, Grandpa had been amply vocal in urging their divorce.

  Mom had tried to understand that her father was speaking from grief and anger, but nothing had helped. Grandpa Clayton had only dug in his heels, and not a word had been exchanged since. Forced to pick sides, Alyssa had naturally sympathized with parents. With the eyes of a middle schooler, though, Alyssa could now see that her dad drank too much and shared too little.

  Alyssa sat on the edge of her bed and shook her head. All that was in the past. It needed to disappear into the shadows of family history where it belonged. Not only her family, but the world might depend on them all moving on, starting now.

  She quickly changed back into her day clothes, dragged a brush through her long hair, and opened the door. In the kitchen, Theo saw her approach first and smiled.

  “Good morning, sleepy!” he called. “I heard you normally wake up by six. Apparently, I was misinformed.”

  Alyssa yawned and said from behind her hand, “Things change.” Grandpa Clayton didn’t look up at her as he worked over his chorizo patties, but Alyssa saw his nostrils flare. Replaying the words in her mind, she knew she’d been unintentionally harsh.

  “Last time I was here,” she added, “getting up at six for my one allowed hour of cartoon time was a big deal. These days, I like sleep better than Phineas and Ferb. Barely.”

  “That was a funny show,” Grandpa Clayton muttered.

  “I’ve been trying to learn more about your grandfather’s time at Edwards,” said Theo as he poured out three tall glasses of pulpy orange juice from a glass pitcher. “In reply, he put me to work making fresh-squeezed juice. With my joints, this is a lot harder than I remember.”

  Grandpa Clayton added a few drops of sweetener to each glass, the same as always, then set the juices by each plate on the table.

  Alyssa took a sip from her glass and closed her eyes in momentary rapture. Her mom always bought frozen concentrate, which tasted weak and artificial in comparison. “Worth it,” she said.

  Theo gave her a frowning harrumph and replied, “When you’re pushing the big one-double-zero, we’ll see if you still think so.”

  “So, Grandpa Clayton,” Alyssa began hesitantly as he spooned out the eggs and sausage onto three plates. “What do you think of all this?”

  He didn’t reply immediately, and they all took their plates to the table. Grandpa took his first bite of sausage and chewed pensively. Alyssa knew not to rush him.

  “It’s a relief,” he said at last. “To know that I was right. That I was on to something.”

  “That you weren’t crazy?” Alyssa ventured.

  His expression darkened as he glanced up from his plate, but he soon nodded with a tight-lipped smile. “Yes.”

  “I told him about Roswell and Area X,” said Theo. “And Bernie and QVs. I left out Winston. That seemed more appropriate to come from you, given how we came to be here.”

  Silence fell over the table, save for the tinkle of their utensils and the faint rhythms of chewing. Part of Alyssa worried that they were needlessly endangering Grandpa Clayton by being here. And yet, Winston had said that they needed fast transportation. He hadn’t mentioned flying, but the more Alyssa thought it over, the more obvious the solution became.

  Grandpa was the only person she knew with even a faint connection to flying. As a retired Air Force instructor, he had virtually unlimited access to pilots. If nothing else, he would know where to go to rent a helicopter and pilot for a day or two, and he could recommend one who would be discreet and not ask questions.

  Alyssa remembered sitting beside Grandpa Clayton in his Cessna 162 Skycatcher. He would take her over the mountains and fly around Mt. Hood, sometimes even going as far south as Mt. Jefferson. He taught her the basics of flight and even let her steer a bit with the second yoke, although he always kept a finger or two on his own. Grandpa Clayton was a stickler for rules, and if the law said that he had to remain in control of the plane at all times as the only certified pilot aboard, then that’s what he did. Of course, that hadn’t kept Alyssa from feeling the thrill of flying, even if she’d never taken off or landed.

  She gulped down another mouthful of juice as her throat threatened to tighten.

  Just say it.

  “You know how unbelievable it was when you once saw a piece of a UFO, right? And how even more unbelievable it is that Theo used to work on projects involving those pieces?”

  Alyssa waited for her grandfather to respond. As usual, he didn’t. He merely sat there, eating with slow, even movements as his eyes carefully studied her, as if it didn’t matter what she said, only how she said it.

  “Right,” she continued. “Well, two of the other people Theo worked with—”

  “Claude and Amanda,” interjected Theo.

  “Yes,” said Alyssa. “They injected themselves with the QVs while she was pregnant. I don’t think they knew she was pregnant. I’m not sure about that part, actually. I suppose it—”

  “Continue,” said Grandpa Clayton.

  Alyssa tried to wash down her increasing uneasiness with more juice, only to find that her glass was empty. No one moved to refill it.

  “So,” she said. “While she was pregnant, they used the Alpha Machine…” She paused and glanced at Theo. “Did you cover the Alpha Machine?”

  He shook his head.

  Oof.

  “They used the alien’s time travel machine, the Alpha Machine, to jump from 1947 to 1990-something. I’m also not sure of the exact dates. They had a son named Winston, who was born with the QVs in him. I think being born with them gave him different abilities and stuff. Not like superhero abilities, although, come to think of it, I don’t really know what he can or can’t do. But he’s been on this quest or whatever to recover the Alpha Machine pieces that his dad hid a long time ago. Winston is being pursued by another guy from that Area X group, Bledsoe, who also got QVs. Bledsoe wants the Alpha Machine to rewrite history and start World War III so that America can go back to being like how he remembers it from the ‘40s. That would be terrible, because it would erase all of us — everything, actually — from existing. Winston used the Alpha Machine pieces he has to appear in my bedroom yesterday. He’s in bad shape and really needs help. He’s going to meet Bledsoe and try to rescue his mom, who Bledsoe wants to either marry or kill. I’m not entirely sure about that, either. But Winston wanted us to find a way to get them out of the meeting place quick enough to not get captured. And from there, he has to get to Hanford, because he saw a memory of his dad’s that showed the last Alpha Machine piece being there.”

  Alyssa realized that she was rambling, trying to fill the quiet in the hope that her grandfather would give some kind of response other than chewing. She forced herself to stop talking. Grandpa Clayton took another bite of eggs. Alyssa knew this was a common tactic he’d picked up in the military: Just keep quiet until your opponent cracks and gives away unintentionally useful information. Only Alyssa wasn’t trying to be evasive. She simply didn’t know if he’d think this was all some ridiculous gimmick, throw them out, and then she’d have no way to help Winston. He had to believe her.

  Grandpa Clayton finally swallowed and gave a non-committal hmm. “Does your mother know,” he began slowly, “that a boy is magically appearing in your bedroom?”

  Alyssa’s jaw dropped open. “Seriously? That’s what you got from everything I just said?”

  “Look, young lady. I’m not going to lie to your mother. If I talk to her again and she asks for details—”

  “No,” Alyssa interrupted. “You can’t talk to her. Or anybody. I sa
w with my own eyes that federal agents, or someone a lot like them, are parked in a van outside of Shade’s house.”

  Grandpa Clayton’s brow creased. “Shade is?”

  “Winston’s best friend. He went with him when Winston split town.”

  Her grandfather absorbed this. “Did he appear in your bedroom, too?”

  “No! Of course not. He doesn’t have QVs, so he can’t use the Alpha Machine.”

  “For what it’s worth,” added Theo with more than a trace of regret, “I can’t use it, either. QV injections appear to affect people differently. My effects were comparatively minor.”

  “So, the two friends separated,” said Grandpa Clayton. “Where is Shade now?”

  Leave it to Grandpa Clayton to have one eye on tactics while playing the role of overprotective grandparent guarding her virtue from time-traveling boys.

  “I don’t know,” Alyssa said. “He didn’t say.”

  “Hm. Continue.”

  “That’s it. I need to find a helicopter and meet him tonight. He said I should get Theo to help, but I don’t trust anybody else. Except you.”

  Grandpa Clayton’s eyes narrowed slightly. She thought he would ask questions, but he only waited for her to keep talking.

  “OK, stop that,” she said. “This is not an interrogation. I don’t have any more information.”

  He remained motionless for another ten seconds, not even blinking, apparently to make sure. Then he leaned back in his chair and sighed.

  “Let’s recap,” he said. “You walk up here, out of the blue, after three years of silence.”

  “You said you didn’t want to talk to Mom anymore!”

  Grandpa Clayton raised one eyebrow and stared at her.

  “Ugh!” Alyssa let her fork clatter on the table. “Fine. Continue. Please.”

  “You come to my home with a stranger, and the first thing you ask me to do is lie to your mother on little more than a ‘trust me.’ You know my history at Edwards, and — what a coincidence! You come in here with a story that confirms all of my old suspicions and offers me vindication. But if I want real proof, I need not only to meet some schoolyard boyfriend who visits you in your bedroom, but I have to fetch him in a helicopter and transport him across state lines into federally restricted airspace.”

  Alyssa glowered at her empty juice glass. “You make it sound really bad.”

  “This is without his parents’ permission, I suppose?”

  “I told you. Bledsoe has his mom. That’s the point of this — to rescue her.”

  Grandpa Clayton’s tongue poked at the inside of his cheeks as he worked on cleaning sausage from between his teeth. At length, he shook his head.

  “This is absurd. I sacrificed a good career because I couldn’t let go of this business. And you want me to jump in headfirst, even though I’m effectively blindfolded.”

  “Grandpa Clayton,” Alyssa said as she leaned forward, hands flat on the table. “Do you think it was easy for me to come here? Do you think I’m doing this for fun? In all the years you’ve known me, am I the sort of kid who makes crap up and goes on crazy adventures just to get in trouble and make people do whatever I say?”

  Grandpa Clayton drew a deep breath and said through barely moving lips. “No. It’s been three years, but…I don’t think you would do that.”

  “I’ve seen the Alpha Machine, and I’ve seen Winston use it. I’ve heard his story, and Theo — yeah, a total stranger before yesterday — confirmed it all. I wouldn’t be doing any of this if I didn’t believe Winston. I think this really is life or death.”

  Alyssa held eye contact with him for a long while. Two could play the stare-down game. At length, and without breaking his gaze with her, Grandpa Clayton said, “Theo, did you serve or were you civilian?”

  “I was brought straight into Air Force R&D from the academic sector. If you’re asking whether I’ve seen battle, then no.”

  “Hm.” Grandpa Clayton finally did look away. Alyssa felt a fleeting moment of victory before her grandfather pinned Theo with that same icy stare. “So, I’m asking you as a man of honor and principle, a fellow member of the armed services, and man-to-man…is everything that’s been said here accurate and true? Is there anything else I should know?”

  Theo didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely true. We have everything to lose from this and nothing to gain — except survival. Believe me, if I thought we could trust any authority, we wouldn’t be here.”

  Grandpa Clayton nodded. He pushed back in his chair and looked toward the kitchen. Alyssa realized that he was gazing at the counter, specifically at the white rose. The corners of his lips quivered slightly, and Alyssa could’ve sworn that his eyes grew moist.

  As if responding to some internal discussion, he finally stood, crossed to the cordless telephone hanging in its cradle on the kitchen wall, and dialed a number. He kept his back to Alyssa and Theo, but the somber tone of his voice expressed everything that remained hidden on his face.

  “Mike, Clayton Griggs,” he said at last. “Yeah, long time… Everything good?” He listened quietly for a moment. “That’s great to hear. Hey, Mike…do you still have Maggie? Yeah? All right. And were you serious about that favor? Yeah… Yes, you could say that. I need it. Today.”

  Grandpa Clayton remained on the line for several more minutes, most of it spent waiting for Mike Griggs to check into details on his end. Finally, though, the arrangements were settled. Grandpa Clayton gave several appreciative thank yous, and ended the call with a slightly unsettling farewell.

  “Thanks, Mike. I will… No, it’s better not to ask… Yes. I think I’ll get to settle it once and for all… You, too. Take care.”

  He turned to face Alyssa and Theo, face stern as he reached to put the phone back in its cradle.

  Alyssa stepped forward. “Hold on.”

  She reached for the phone, and Grandpa Clayton handed it to her, his confusion clear.

  “I have to call the FBI,” she said.

  Both men quickly voiced their disapproval.

  “I know, I know,” Alyssa said. “But this was the last thing Winston told me to do. Now, he didn’t say where I had to call from, so we could go somewhere else, if you want.”

  Grandpa Clayton thought it over for a bit and then said, “Unnecessary. I’m sure I’m already red-flagged, and you contacting the feds directly will put everyone you know under a microscope. I just dragged my friend Mike into this by association. Hopefully…” He sighed. Never content to focus on one task when he could be doing two, Grandpa Clayton began scrubbing at the pans in the sink. “Hopefully, we’ll have this matter settled before anyone traces your location and makes the connection with me from your phone call.”

  Alyssa checked her phone and dialed the number for the FBI’s Portland branch office. A very bored-sounding woman picked up on the third ring.

  “Thank you for calling the Federal Bureau of Investigations, Portland branch office. If you know the extension of the party you are calling, you may…”

  Alyssa tried to reach an operator but only landed at a general mailbox for recording messages. She couldn’t hide the nervous tremor and tension in her voice.

  “I need to get a message to an Agent Lynch, who’s currently on special assignment with a man named Devlin Bledsoe. Please tell the two of them that they need to bring their remaining guest to the meeting place she initially made contact from, at ten o’clock tonight.”

  She repeated the message one more time, just to make sure they got everything, and then hung up.

  Alyssa lowered the phone to her side and gave a long exhale. “Well, that’s th—”

  The phone rang. Alyssa’s taut nerves jangled, and she nearly dropped it as she jumped. The handset’s LCD read UNKNOWN.

  Grandpa Clayton’s expression furrowed even deeper, from concern into outright worry. The phone rang again.

  “Put it on speaker,” he growled.

  Alyssa walked to the phone cradle on the kitchen counter and pressed i
ts speaker button.

  She swallowed, and her voice nearly cracked when she said, “Hello?”

  “Miss Bauman,” said a deep voice that had obviously been run through a filter to sound mechanized. “Colonel Patterson. Mister…Lane.”

  Alyssa did not like how the voice paused over Theo’s false name.

  “Who is this?” she asked.

  “You may call me Command One,” said the voice. “I speak for Management.”

  Alyssa rested her elbows on the counter, as she didn’t entirely trust her legs to keep her upright. Her breakfast swirled uneasily in her guts, as if contemplating an early, sudden exit.

  Theo stepped up behind her. “This is Mister Lane. What do you want?”

  “We want you to accept our help,” said Command One. “Devlin Bledsoe has broken with our organization. We believe your friend, Mr. Chase, is in imminent danger.”

  “You just now figured that out?” Alyssa interjected.

  “We have reassigned an agent to give you assistance,” continued Command One. “He is at your house now. Please allow him to work with you. He has been briefed on the Alpha Machine.”

  “Wait!” cried Amanda. “You know about the Alpha Machine?”

  The line disconnected just as the doorbell rang.

  Stunned by this sudden turn of events, the three of them went to the front door. Alyssa expected some enforcer type, with black shades and a buzz cut, all sinews and hoarse commands. As Grandpa Clayton opened the door, she was greeted with almost the exact opposite. He was pale and scrawny, with a light blue polo untucked from his khaki slacks. No shades. Big smile over slightly crooked teeth. Large brown curls jostled as he extended a hand.