Event: A Novel

by David L. Golemon

  Staff Sergeant Will Mendenhall placed the CLOSED sign in the window and turned the neon OPEN sign off, and for the first time in years the Gold City Pawnshop was closed for business. He glanced through the large plate-glass window as the buzz of the neon ceased, then he turned to the man standing beside him.

  “Okay, that does it. This has to be something big for them to need all the security personnel,” he said, looking at the lance corporal.

  “What do you think it is?” the young marine asked.

  “I don’t know, but to close this gate down for the first time in twenty-some years is definitely out of the norm. The whole complex has gone on a war footing, or at least the highest alert level I’ve seen here since the attacks on the Trade Center and Pentagon.”

  Mendenhall had had little sleep that day and didn’t feel like answering too many questions. The skeleton security staff they were leaving behind to guard the gate was on his mind more than whatever alert level they were currently on.

  “That does it. We have to take one of the cars in through gate one to pick up some gear and then get to the briefing.”

  Henri Farbeaux watched the black man hold the door for the smaller one. He had come to full alert when the bright red OPEN sign had been turned off, leaving the area directly in front of the shop barren of light. After the information Reese had given him about the security gate that led to the Event complex and the security team there, he had been prepared to enter and do what he needed to do. But when the lights went out, he had to think on the fly. The pawnshop claimed to be open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, so Farbeaux instinctively knew this was the moment he had waited for. He would have either the complex location or the whereabouts of the crash site.

  He placed two dental swatches into his mouth and firmly set them along his jawline, puffing his jowls out to the proper thickness, and then he smiled, not only happy with his disguise, but happy that the late Mr. Reese had been so forthcoming about this magical gate into the Event Group.

  Farbeaux quickly opened the car door and crossed the street. As he moved, he took a tube out of his pocket and slid his thumb into position on the top of the small object and stepped to the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding a driver who swerved out of the way at the last moment. The Frenchman clicked the small button on top of the tube. He watched as the black man walked away from the door and toward a car parked in the front of the pawnshop. The other man went to the passenger side.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen,” Farbeaux called in his best down-home American accent. “This town’s as confusin’ as Houston in a snowstorm. Can you tell me where to find the Flamingo Hotel?”

  Mendenhall looked closely at the stranger. The cowboy hat was cocked at a lazy angle on the man’s head and his boots were the snakeskin sort he himself yearned to buy one day.

  “Yeah, it’s down three blocks. You come to an overhead walkway in front of Caesars Palace, make a right there, you run right into it,” he answered.

  Farbeaux was close enough, but to make sure, he stepped two feet closer to the big soldier.

  “Three blocks you say?”

  Mendenhall opened the car door. “That’s right, can’t miss it, buddy.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned; I was right there and didn’t ever see any walkway.” The stranger turned to face Willie and held out his hand. “Thanks a bunch, partner, wife’s gonna give me hell and rub it in eight ways to Sunday.”

  Mendenhall hesitated a moment, then took the man’s hand and shook. “No problem, buddy.”

  The Frenchman coupled his other hand over the black man’s, lightly pushing the button on the small tube. A fine mist of hydrochlorinolphysiline filmed the top of Mendenhall ’s hand. It was nontoxic and dried immediately with no odor or color. The man never knew he had been “tagged” by a substance that could be tracked by the molecule-sized plutonium abstract that had entered the pores of his skin. A Centaurus satellite would relay the information to a ground station, actually a small backpack-sized unit sitting in Farbeaux’s car that Centaurus didn’t know he had taken from company stores before he left L.A. The amount of chemical would only be enough to track, and the big black man would feel nothing other than the smallest of headaches. It would be four hours before the abstract wore off, and Farbeaux hoped this man didn’t fully shower until he got to the Event complex or, better still, the crash site.

  Farbeaux released the sergeant’s hand and nodded once. “You gentlemen have a good night and thanks again.”

  The two men climbed into the car and never gave the well-dressed cowboy another thought.

  He walked back and opened the car door and sat behind the wheel. He removed the mustache and dental wadding and tossed them and the cowboy hat into the backseat. As he did this, his secure phone started to ring, but Farbeaux ignored it. It was his secure line, so it had to be Hendrix wondering about his second team of missing men. Or maybe he had found them, Farbeaux thought. No matter, he was hot on the trail of the Event Group and the ultimate prize, a whole new technology to be sold off.

  “Now, Senator Lee, make my year and tell me you have the saucer.”

  Nellis AFB, Nevada

  July 9, 0135 Hours

  Jack, Niles, Lee, and Alice were in the Group’s command room located just below the main conference room. Maps of southeast Arizona lay spread on the massive planning board. Alice was furiously scribbling notes and writing down directives delivered by Collins for his planning of the Discovery phase of the operation.

  “Now, when do I let the rest of the Discovery team in on what we are really looking for?” Jack asked, looking from Niles to Lee.

  “Hopefully never,” Niles said.

  “I’m not one who likes putting people’s lives at stake by not giving them the full story. Their thoughts on-site could be very valuable,” Jack said as he straightened up from the map table.

  “What we suspect can never become general knowledge, even among our own people, Jack. The mere thought of some race of beings trying to wipe us out would run like a cancer through the Group. We have duties here that need to be done. If the animal is dead, I want all our people concentrating on their jobs, not what’s coming next.” Lee looked up from the maps.

  Collins saw that the old man was speaking slowly, with a drooping mouth on his left side, as if part of the muscles in his mouth were failing. The white shirt was unbuttoned at the top and his silver hair was shooting off in different directions. Jack looked at Alice, who sat stock-still while taking the briefing notes. A few minutes before they’d started the breakdown and logistics needed for this mission, Jack had informed Niles, the senator, and Alice about the connection with Farbeaux, Centaurus, and Genesis. Lee had had his worst fears confirmed about another element operating inside this country. That they now knew it had to have been these people who had eliminated the Group’s team back in ’47 only underscored the fear that this company, Centaurus, was operating with impunity.

  “If I have even an inkling of evidence that this animal has survived the crash, I will immediately inform not only the initial Discovery team, but anyone who comes on-site what we may be up against. There can be no negotiation on that fact,” Jack said, looking from face to face. “I have never kept troops in the dark or lied to them about what they’re up against. I hope I’m clear and you back me on that. I’ve had some experience with people above me not giving my men and myself a clear picture of what we were up against, and it always turns out bad.”

  “You have my word, Jack. If it’s alive, you have permission to inform everyone.”

  They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Niles called out and Commander Everett entered and held out a file folder to Jack.

  “The Discovery team is assembled and waiting with the exception of Mendenhall and Jackson, who will join us at the airfield.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Everett, we’ll be right in.” Jack took the file folder.

  Everett left the command room and closed the door. Jack turned and faced the three expe
ctant faces.

  “I explained earlier about Centaurus and Genesis. Now I think you should know who is behind them. But I believe you already have guessed. We had this package made up for you and just received it back from photo recon.” Jack handed Lee the red-bordered Eyes Only file. He dipped his head and left the command room to brief his team.

  Lee turned the file over and peeled away a red piece of tape and reached in and took out first the hard copy of the report Jack had already covered with him. This he handed to Alice. Then he pulled the blowups and computer-enhanced prints from the file. He looked at the first photo of a dark-haired man taken at a banquet. The only indication he recognized the face in the foreground was the momentary widening of his good eye.

  “Now that’s a face I never thought to see again,” Lee said as he handed the picture over for Alice to see. “It has to be his son.”

  After a moment, Lee removed the last picture from the file and looked at the smiling face of the Frenchman. “Well, Jack and the boys earned their money. With this photo we have visual proof of just who it was Farbeaux’s been working for all these years,” he said, shaking his head. Then he sat up and looked at the picture more closely. Standing behind Farbeaux and unaware of the camera, die same as the Frenchman, was a face that Lee knew. He lowered the picture and closed his eye.

  “What’s wrong?” Alice asked.

  Lee opened his eye and looked at her and handed her the last picture.

  “Farbeaux?” she asked.

  “No, not him, the rather tall gentleman standing behind him.”

  “Oh, God, is that the president?”

  Lee didn’t say anything.

  “You mean the president knows Hendrix?” Compton asked as he took the picture and looked at it.

  Jack had confirmed what Lee had suspected for fifty years or more, that their enemy from the time of the Roswell Incident to the present wasn’t a foreign agency, but the mythical Men in Black who had always been but a rumor. It was now highly likely that their foe was a privately held company that existed with the help of some of the federal agencies, at least initially in the company’s earlier formation hi the forties and fifties. The Centauras Corporation, and the think tank Jack mentioned, the Genesis Group, also led by Hendrix, were the people who sat in judgment on how to exploit the finds and discoveries they had gleaned from the crash wreckage they had stolen almost sixty years ago.

  “Let’s keep this knowledge to ourselves for a bit, shall we? We don’t know how deep the connection goes between Centauras and the president. After all, it was a Washington event and the president was a young senator then, no crime in his being there. I suspect that maybe it’s only certain elements that are assisting this corporation and not the entire federal community. I couldn’t believe that the president would be an accomplice in this. But still”—Lee smiled— “let’s not take any chances.”

  Alice and Niles knew the look in Lee’s eye. He was thinking about how to turn the situation in their favor.

  “What do you think, Niles, did we find the saucer in time?” the old man asked tiredly, gladly changing the subject.

  Niles stared at the far wall for a moment. Then he turned and removed his glasses and slid them into his pocket.

  “I think I took too damn long to find it, Senator,” he answered, walking toward the door.

  Alice patted Garrison on the hand as they watched Niles leave the room to make his way to the briefing.

  “Niles is too hard on himself,” Alice said, “but Lord help us if he’s right.”

  Lee used his cane to stand up; Alice quickly stood herself to help him into the briefing.

  “I suspect we may need God’s help, because for some reason I think it’s going to happen this time around,” he stated flatly. “Too damn many things happened differently, too many variables.” He lightly took hold of Alice’s arm. “And if the worst has indeed taken place, then God may be the only one who can stop it. Get the president and get Niles back in here. We’ll find out real quick if the commander in chief is someone else’s friend and not just ours, because we need to get Jack some help in securing that valley. Start working on a cover story for the army to move on. But make it one in which weapons, a lot of weapons, would be needed.”

  Nellis AFB, Nevada

  July 9, 0200 Hours

  A Discovery team as laid down by Department 5656 protocol is an advanced team of required specialists and security personnel that will be present at the start of any field operation where security for the project and Group is of major concern. Deception to the general public is foremost to camouflage the nature of said Event.

  Jack’s team had gathered in the main conference room in order for the senator to observe. Jack’s first brief was to Denise Gilliam, a doctor of forensic science from the University of Maine at Orono.

  “Dr. Gilliam, besides your forensic duties, you will also be our field doctor. We’re cutting back on initial personnel.”

  “But I…”

  Jack shot her a look.

  “Alright, I can do that,” she said.

  “That’s exactly why I put you on the Discovery team, one person—two jobs.”

  Jack looked next to Josh Crollmier, a former member of the National Transportation and Safety Board, who would be serving as the crash expert.

  “Mr. Crollmier, initially you will concentrate on the possibility of survivors, and you’ll be starting without your team or equipment.” Jack looked to the next in line after Crollmier just nodded.

  “Signalman Willing,” he said, looking at Lisa. “You will handle ground communications and set up video links to Nellis and Washington with your four-man COMM team. You will be issued sidearms and will double as site security until I get more people in theater, are we clear?”

  “Yes, sir, we’ll have COMMO up in five minutes.”

  “Dr. Robert Randall, you will handle the zoology aspect of the team. I know you served your time with the Group, but our zoologist is off base. In short, Doctor, it doesn’t pay to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. You should never have paid a visit to the Group. Welcome aboard.”

  “I was drafted,” he said.

  “We need evidence of any life-forms that may have arrived with the vehicle ASAP. And the rest of you, don’t ask,” Jack said, heading off any questions about why a doc from the San Diego Zoo was coming along.

  Then Collins looked at the rest of the security element of Everett, Mendenhall, Ryan, and Corporal Jackson. Everyone with the exception of Ryan had assault experience and heliocast jumps under their belt. Ryan would be backup cover along with the Blackhawk crew chiefs and gunners.

  “Are two two-man teams on the ground enough?” Jason asked.

  “Our initial Discovery team was kept to bare bones on my request due to continuing security concerns that have arisen in external matters outside the influence of the Group. But once we’re in and secure, we’ll get help on the ground. I have already initiated contact, with Dr. Compton’s approval and through the office of the president, with certain elements of our armed forces, and they have been informed that they may be asked to take part in special desert operations. We can no longer wait until the last minute to have things to fall back on.”

  “Amen to that,” Virginia Pollock said, wishing she were on the Discovery team.

  “Besides the Event itself, there should be little collateral interference from the people who call the small valley home,” the senator said from his seat on the couch. “There may be a few prospectors and maybe a camper or two about, but other than that, the desert should be void of onlookers.”

  “Okay, people, you know the plan. Site security will heliocast in first, and then we’ll clear a spot for the four Blackhawks with the remaining Discovery team and equipment to land up valley from the bulk of the debris pattern. Believe me, we would have liked to have entered from outside the valley, but the slope is too steep and we just don’t have the time.”

  The senator watched all this with a sort of
sadness. Besides the anger he felt at his failing body, he knew he was meant to be on this mission. He slowly raised his right arm and motioned for Collins.

  “Yes, sir?” he asked, leaning over so the senator didn’t have to rise.

  “Jack, I wish you would change your mind about the med team,” Lee said.

  Collins thought about the absence of the Group’s medical team. It would be hard on any of the wounded aliens if they were found alive, but it would be just more people to get in the way if the worst-case scenario happened. “Well, sir, the medical team will be with the fifth Blackhawk just two minutes out from the site, and Dr. Gilliam can triage until the med team arrives. We will hurry the initial recon as much as possible, and if we find any of the crew still breathing, we’ll get them help quickly enough.”

  Collins straightened and held out his hand. The old man weakly took it into his own.

  Then Niles Compton approached and lightly patted Jack on the back. “Wish I were going with you, Jack.”

  Collins looked at Lee a moment longer, then turned to face the tired eyes and worn body of Director Compton. “Niles, for as short a time as I’ve known you, you’ve done the most god-awful amount of work I’ve ever seen. You need to rest and let us handle some of the load now. The president placed several calls out to contacts of mine in the private sector; Aberdeen Proving Grounds is one of them. They’re going to send out a few items they’ve been working on that may help us out here. Some cutting-edge technology couldn’t hurt. Also the army is sending some state-of-the-art body armor our way that the CIA higher-ups have hijacked for us, and it should arrive in the morning. I hope we won’t need it, but… anyway, that’s what you can do now, Niles, make sure we get this stuff ASAP. Until then, rest.”

  Jack reached out and shook Compton’s hand, then turned and ushered the rest of the Discovery team out through the door. The first response to an attack of extraterrestrial origin was now operational.