by D F Capps
The Zeta Grey War:
The Event
by
D F Capps
Copyright 2018
All rights reserved.
Chapter 1
Peggy Sue Behnke jolted awake and sat straight up in bed.
“Get out of here!” she shouted. “Get out of my house! Get out of my life!”
A tall male with an oversized head and huge blue eyes stood stoically in front of her.
“It’s time to go,” he said.
She hated not having control over her life, especially when this freak was in charge. The Zeta Grey/human hybrid called Jasper motioned to the door. She had other names for him, of course; none of them were flattering. Not that it mattered, anyway. With the alien implant in her brain she had little choice but to do as she was told. Jasper followed her out the back door of her small tri-level home in the northwest corner of Sheridan, Wyoming.
The Zeta Grey scout saucer was just over fifty feet across, approximately sixteen feet in height, and disc-shaped. It glowed bright white as it hovered ten feet above her back yard. From experience she knew no one else would see the saucer because it emitted extremely low frequency electromagnetic waves that matched the delta brain waves of humans, effectively putting everyone nearby without an implant into a state of deep sleep. An intense beam of white light floated her and Jasper through the air and into the craft. He gripped her arm as they became weightless during the several seconds it took to reach the mountains in the Bighorn National Forest where they were floated into a second, larger ship.
Jasper guided her through a long hallway and into the central room. Hundreds of metal examination tables were arranged in a honeycomb pattern. She had been in this room once before, several years ago. From the lights suspended over the tables she estimated that the room was more than two hundred yards across. Abducted humans occupied most of the tables, each surrounded by three to five small Greys performing various medical procedures. Jasper removed her night gown and pointed to a table. She reluctantly reclined on the cold surface.
As many times as she had been through the Zeta Grey table procedures she still found it disturbing and painful. The violation of her as a person was disgusting and humiliating. Sure, she had experienced some medical procedures at the doctor’s office. The doctor and the nurses had been gentle and compassionate about what had to be done, providing pain relief where needed. Here, there was no concern at all for her or the pain she endured. The cold, uncaring hands poked and prodded her in the most private of places. One of the small Greys pressed a shiny metal object hard into her abdomen above her right ovary. She closed her eyes as the fine vibration penetrated her body.
They’re taking my eggs again, she thought, right through the skin this time. At least that was better than going in through the other way. The soreness and discomfort from that had lasted days.
Were they going to impregnate her again?
Probably not, she thought. At the age of forty, she was getting a little too old for that. She wondered how many more years it would be before they left her alone. Tears rolled out of her eyes as the feeling of helplessness flooded her mind and heart once more. She had already been through nine short, devastating pregnancies at their hands. Shortly after she began to show, they would abduct her again and remove the fetus. Each time it left her feeling empty and depressed. Violated was too gentle a word, but she couldn’t think of a better one.
“Okay, follow me,” Jasper said, handing over her night gown.
She slipped it on over her head and walked behind him. Farther down the hallway he motioned her into another large room. This one was filled with children, one of which she recognized as hers. The group of boys and girls ranged from about five years of age to around nine. The children were dressed in what appeared to be older-style second-hand clothes.
“Are they dressed appropriately?” Jasper asked.
She shook her head. “No. The style is old—out of date. The colors don’t match.”
“Show me what you mean about colors that don’t match,” Jasper instructed.
Peggy Sue sighed. She didn’t want to help the Zetas, but she was compelled to do as they demanded.
“Here,” she said as she undressed several of the girls. “Don’t mix stripes and plaids. Use complimentary colors.” She held up a pull-over shirt and pants. “Red and lavender don’t mix. Neither do red and pink.” She tossed the lavender pull-over and selected a blue button-up shirt. “These go together.”
Peggy Sue knew a lot about children from teaching third graders at Sheridan Elementary school for eighteen years, but these kids were different. Instead of running around, yelling and playing, they were quiet and attentive. All of them took their clothes off and handed them to her. She organized the outfits by style, colors, and patterns, and handed them back to the children. They put the clothes on, looked at their own outfits, then at what the other kids were wearing, and turned to Peggy Sue. Style and a sense of fashion was something they would understand more as teenagers, but for young children, they were learning the basics very quickly.
Jasper walked her into the hallway again.
“You are an important part of the future for your planet,” he said. “Your role is critical in saving the environment and the new population of your world.”
He motioned across the hall. Soft lights came on as she walked into the chamber. The walls were lined with transparent, rectangular vessels about a foot wide and two feet tall, stacked six high. Thousands of vessels lined each side of a maze of narrow hallways. She gasped and stepped back as she recognized that each vessel contained a live fetus, growing in a yellowish fluid.
“You have contributed significantly to the future of your world,” Jasper said. “You should be very proud.”
Well, she wasn’t proud. She was angry and resentful.
Jasper looked at her. “Your feelings will change. After the Event you will see how you have helped to save your world. You will be the elite among all humans: respected, valued, and revered. You’ll see. Then you will be proud.”
Chapter 2
“Here he comes,” President Jason Andrews said.
The honor guard snapped to attention.
A glowing white saucer with red and blue pulsing lights glided over the trees and came to rest outside the residential compound at Camp David. The saucer was constructed like two cones connected at the wide base, about sixty feet across and forty feet high. Six landing pods lowered from the base of the saucer and settled firmly onto the ground. The bright glow diminished then stopped altogether. The craft now appeared to be a burnished grey metal. A section of the bottom of the saucer slid open and a ramp shot out to the grassy lawn.
A tall, thin male figure with a neatly trimmed beard slowly stepped onto the ramp and made his way to the ground. He was about seven and a half feet tall and dressed in a shiny white one-piece suit with a silver belt at the waist. His skin was tan, eyes steel grey, and his hair was medium brown. He looked over at the honor guard Andrews had ordered. Two flags were held out at an angle: the stars and stripes of the United States and a white flag with a black symbol on it that resembled a crop circle design.
The man nodded, made eye contact with Andrews, and walked slowly forward. Andrews, his chief of staff Doug Franks, and Admiral Howard J. Hollis, commanding officer of the United Stated Space Command, walked out to greet him.
“I am Ambassador Doran. I bring you official greetings from the Tau Ceti star system.” He exchanged handshakes with Andrews, Admiral Hollis, and then Franks. He offered something the size of a coin to Andrews. “Additional electrical generator technology I think you may find useful.”
“Thank you,” Andrews said, taking the smal
l device. “I conferred with Charlie, your son, about the design of the flag. I hope it is appropriate and correctly done.”
“It is,” Doran said. “Your display of respect is greatly appreciated.”
Andrews had tried to talk Charlie into being here, without success. Doran was Charlie’s father. Charlie’s mother was an Earth human who raised him here.
Charlie had become an integral part of the fight against the Zeta Greys, and Andrews wondered what it was between fathers and sons that they didn’t want to stand in each other’s moments of recognition.
He turned and led the alien into the formal conference room.
“Now that the contract with the Zeta Greys has been officially revoked,” Ambassador Doran said, “I am here to establish formal relations with your planet. I want to make one thing very clear: The Zeta Greys are part of the Corporate Alliance. A very violent and ruthless race of reptilians enforces the will of the alliance, and you have a limited time to drive the Zeta Greys from your planet before the reptilians become involved. As long as the Zeta Greys believe they are dealing only with the people of Earth, they typically will not call in the reptilians for help. As soon as they become aware of our presence and assistance, they will turn to the reptilians. Keeping the Tau Cetian involvement a secret will buy you some critically needed time.”
Andrews frowned. “Your spacecraft come and go on a regular basis. Wouldn’t they already know you’re here?”
Doran smiled. “There is a lot of open space in your solar system. Our ships are electronically masked to avoid detection. We believe the Zeta Greys are unaware of our involvement, at least for now. We’d like to keep it that way as long as we can, for your safety as well as ours.”
* * *
Lieutenant Commander Diane “Jink” Zadanski stood on the flight deck of Peregrine Base in southwestern New Mexico with her wingman, Lieutenant Glen “Buddha” Simmons, in addition to Lieutenant Clay “OB1” Obers, and Lieutenant Helen “Hellcat” Catalano, as six new fighter craft landed.
The flight deck was carved out of solid stone. It measured twenty-five feet in height, one hundred ten feet in width, and extended sixty feet back into the mountain. Of the original twenty-four pilots plus their radar intercept officers, only five pilots and six RIOs had survived the battle for the base. None of the original fighter craft were operational.
“I want three fighter craft on continuous patrol around the base,” Admiral Hollis said, as he walked in through the circular blast door that connected the flight deck to the hallway. “Vary your distance and altitude from the base, but stay within a fifty mile radius.”
“Yes, sir,” Diane replied. “Patrol duration?”
“Standard four-hour patrol, two hours between zero hundred hours and oh-four hundred. Staffing is your responsibility, Zadanski.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied again.
“One more order of business,” Hollis said. “We have more pilots and RIOs ready to graduate. I’m splitting the United States Space Command into three squadrons. Zadanski will lead squadron one.”
Hollis turned to Simmons and was about to continue when Simmons cut in.
“Sir, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to remain as Zadanski’s wingman. I have a very good sense of how she flies, and I really feel that’s where I need to be.”
Hollis raised his eyebrows. “The command’s yours if you want it.”
Simmons shook his head. “I appreciate it, sir, but I belong next to her.”
“Very well,” Hollis replied. He turned to face Obers and Catalano. “I was going to pair you two together, but Obers, you and Catalano are hereby promoted to lieutenant commander. Obers will lead squadron two, and Catalano will lead squadron three, effective now.”
* * *
“With Speaker of the House Joel Metzner in jail, we need to elect a new speaker,” House Majority Leader Leland Abbott said. “I am fully prepared to be the new blood and spirit we need to lead us in the days and months ahead.”
Congressman Whitley stepped forward. “I believe Congressman Abbott is too young and inexperienced for this position. I oppose his nomination.”
Of course you do, you old goat, Abbott thought. Your time in power has come to an end. The new coalition that is backing me is the future of not only this country, but of the world. You’ll see.
Everyone simply ignored Whitley and followed Abbott into the main chamber.
Two other contenders for the speaker position initially came forward, but under considerable pressure from the new coalition, both quickly withdrew from consideration. By late afternoon a quick vote had been taken to see where the members of the house stood. Abbott had a clear majority, so an official vote followed. By the time Abbott left the Capitol Building for the day, he was the new Speaker of the House and next in line to become president after Vice President Bob Harper.
Chapter 3
How could I have missed it? Was I so self-confidant, or even arrogant, that I couldn’t see what was happening? General Douglas J. McHenry sat on the single bunk in the military brig at the Naval Support Facility Anacostia, Washington, D.C., wondering how things had gone so wrong. President Andrews gave me the opportunity to change my decision and I didn’t take it. Was I so unaware, or was the Scottish blood in me just too stubborn to question what I believed?
A navy shore patrol petty officer opened the jail cell door and tossed a box of civilian clothes on the floor.
“Ten minutes,” he said. He locked the cell door then walked down the hall.
McHenry looked at the clothes. They were his: a light grey suit, white shirt, and dress shoes from his home in northwest D.C. Even his socks and underwear were in the box.
Not what I expected, he thought.
President Andrews may have thought that McHenry, as ex-commander of the Army Forces Command had too much influence or loyalty from soldiers in the army, so he was being detained in a navy facility instead. He found it demeaning and insulting.
He was awaiting formal charges against him for refusing to follow a lawful order, which would result in a court martial. That’s what made the civilian clothes so puzzling—he would be in uniform for any official charges or a trial. Something was up. He changed out of the prison jumpsuit and into his civvies. He was escorted to the White House by four large shore patrol officers and placed in the underground Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility, known as a SCIF.
President Andrews, accompanied by another man dressed in civilian attire, entered the room. General McHenry stood as they entered.
“I want to thank you for allowing me to wear civilian clothes,” McHenry said. “The military prison jumpsuit is still an embarrassment to me. I love my country and I only want to be of service to her and her people. I have been advised, by my JAG attorney, that my basis of refusing your direct order to remove all military forces from Europe was an error on my part. I humbly apologize to you. I stand ready to accept whatever punishment you decide is appropriate.”
Andrews watched him for a moment, then motioned to the chairs. All three of them took a seat at the table.
“I’ve reviewed your record,” Andrews said, “as has Admiral Hollis here. The thing that stands out to us is your strong ethical and moral positions in all of your past service, especially as commander of the Army Forces Command. That position carried a lot of responsibility, but is also subject to tremendous outside influence from defense contractors. I know you have been approached a number of times by various groups offering incentives for your cooperation with their programs. I also know you consistently walked away from all of those propositions. Personally, with everything that has been going on, I find that refreshing.”
McHenry shifted in his chair, more alert and curious. Okay, he thought, so something other than a court martial.
“Your record also includes four years commanding Special Forces units in deeply covert operations. Was that something you enjoyed doing?”
McHenry glanced from Andrews to Hollis and b
ack. “It wasn’t just another step up the ladder of command, if that’s what you’re asking. I served with some very amazing and talented people. It was the single most rewarding time in my career. I finally felt like I was making a real difference in the world. You’re asking me this for a reason; what do you have in mind?”
“We have a different group of very amazing and talented people we’d like you to meet,” Hollis said. “The problem is we don’t have anywhere near enough people to do the job. We’d like your help in locating and recruiting more of them.”
A half smile played across McHenry’s lips. “Sounds like I’m not headed to the disciplinary barracks at Fort Leavenworth, as I assumed. How can I be of service to you?”
He glanced from Andrews to Hollis and back again as he waited for their reply.
“What are you willing to give up in order to serve your country again?” Andrews asked.
McHenry leaned back in his chair and studied them for a moment. Andrews’s facial expression was dead serious. So was Admiral Hollis’s for that matter.
They still need me for something—my moment of truth has arrived, he thought.
“Name it.”
There was a slight nod of Andrews’s head before he spoke. “You will be removed from the military system of command. You will avoid any and all public functions. Your house and all property you own will be sold and all funds will be donated to charity. We know you have no children, just an ex-wife from twelve years ago, whom you do not see. Socially, you will drop off the grid and cease any and all contact with people you know. There will be no social media activities of any kind: no phone, no email, no texting, nothing. For all practical purposes, you will cease to exist.”
McHenry’s smile broadened across his face. “Agreed. I know a black ops recruitment when I see it. What is it you want me to do?”
Andrews and Hollis maintained their serious posture and expression.
