by D F Capps
Sean closed his eyes and breathed deeply to calm the images of dead soldiers and aliens raging within his mind. “Is there a profile for abductees?”
Dr. Jackson nodded. “We have a group of professionals that work together. We developed a questionnaire with ten simple questions that help us identify who has had real abduction experiences. You’d be surprised at how many people are only out to get attention.”
Actually, I wouldn’t, Sean thought. “Would you allow me to use the questionnaire and the profile? I need to find more people who are willing and able to talk to me.”
Dr. Jackson studied him. “Only if you work with us to help get those people into therapy.”
Sean nodded. “I will do that.”
Dr. Jackson nodded again. “You don’t have to keep what you’ve experienced inside yourself. You can talk to me about it.”
Sean shook slightly as he fought back the tears. “It’s extremely classified at this time, but at some point, maybe I could do that.”
“Good,” Dr. Jackson said. “My door is always open for you.” He pulled a drawer open and picked up a sticky note. “Two of my patients are willing to talk with you as long as you use aliases for them.”
“Of course,” Sean replied. “Thank you.”
Chapter 10
McHenry slowly sipped a beer at the back booth of a bar popular with the Delta Force soldiers near Suffolk, Virginia. He was dressed in casual civilian clothes and kept an eye on people entering the front door. At three in the afternoon the place was almost empty.
Colonel Novak, dressed in civilian clothes, walked in the door and looked around. McHenry motioned with his head as Novak spotted him.
“Long time no see,” Novak said as he sat in the booth. “Heard you disappeared in the command shakeup, so your phone call was unexpected. What’s up?”
McHenry glanced around the room.
“A new unit is being formed. It’s only open to unmarried soldiers without close family connections.”
Novak glanced away, a disgusted look on his face. “And you come to me looking for bodies for a suicide mission?”
McHenry grimaced. “It’s not like that.”
“Really. Then what exactly is it like?”
“There’s risk,” McHenry said. “More than usual, but this is not a suicide mission.”
Novak stared at him, defiant.
“Then why the orphan slant?”
“It’s a long-term, highly classified operation. There will be little to no down time, so I need the most reliable soldiers from your regiment. Here is the list of people we’re interested in.”
He slid a stack of transfers across to Novak, who went through them one-by-one.
“O’Brian’s engaged.” He set the transfer aside, and continued through the stack. “So is Grinnell.” Novak slid the transfer orders back across the table. “I think the rest of your list is solid.”
“Okay,” McHenry said. He tore up the transfer orders for O’Brian and Grinnell. “Pack up your new unit. You’ll be on an Osprey at twenty-two hundred hours.”
“Going where? I need to know what weapons and equipment to—”
“State-side.” McHenry interrupted with a grin. “You won’t need any weapons or armor, so leave all of that behind.”
Novak leaned back in the booth. “Specialized training?”
“To start with, yes. Everything after that will be brand new.”
Novak nodded slowly. “This sounds like it’s outside the regular chain of command. What do I tell my CO, General Perkins?”
McHenry shook his head. “Perkins resigned. Here are your new orders.”
He handed several sheets of paper to Novak, who studied them for a few minutes. “All it says is to report to you at twenty-two hundred hours. There’s no base or destination listed.”
McHenry nodded. “I’m your new commanding officer. I’ll be taking you to your new base, personally.”
Novak checked to see who issued the orders. When he saw President Jason Andrews’s signature on them, he looked up at McHenry. “We’re not coming back, are we?”
McHenry didn’t answer at first. He just stared back at him with a serious expression on his face. “Not in the traditional sense, no. You’ll understand once you get there. The assignment is completely voluntary, just like your Delta Force membership. You are being given the opportunity to serve your country on a much higher level. Each soldier, including you, will be given the choice to walk away or to join. That decision will be final, one way or the other.”
“You’re suggesting that this new unit will be more elite than Delta Force?”
McHenry chuckled. “Yes. Considerably.”
Novak pursed his lips. “Anything else you can tell me about the assignment?”
McHenry shook his head. “It’s open to only the best of the best. You and your men have this evening to think about it. I’ll need an answer at twenty-two hundred hours. If you’re not in, don’t show up.”
Novak nodded slightly. “I’ll see you tonight.”
* * *
At just before ten that evening General McHenry stood next to the rear ramp of the first of three V-22 Ospreys waiting on the tarmac. He wore his old Army uniform to avoid any unnecessary questions. A line of men marched out of the shadows carrying duffel bags on their shoulders. The first man stopped, lowered his duffel, and saluted.
“Colonel Novak, reporting as ordered, sir.”
McHenry returned the salute. “Welcome aboard, Colonel.”
The next man stepped forward and saluted as Novak walked up the ramp.
“Captain Connors, reporting as ordered, sir.”
McHenry again returned the salute. “Welcome aboard, Captain.”
The routine continued through all hundred and eight men of the Delta Force unit.
Six hours and two time zones later the Ospreys settled down in a desert valley in Southwestern New Mexico. The men picked up their duffels and followed McHenry through the darkness and into an old silver mine. Biometric markers were all checked and verified and new IDs issued before they proceeded past the security checkpoint. Whispers went through the group as they noted the “U.S. Space Command Army” on their ID cards. Elevators took them down to the residential section where quarters were assigned to them.
“Get some rest,” McHenry said. “The mess hall is down this corridor and to the left. Orientation begins, after lunch, at thirteen hundred hours in the conference room, which is directly across from chow. You will also receive your new uniforms at that time.”
“Our new unit designation is the United States Space Command Army,” Novak said. “Space? As in outer space?”
“Yes, but we have a number of nasty messes to clean up first,” McHenry said.
“Well, you’re in luck,” Novak replied. “Nasty messes happen to be our specialty.”
McHenry grinned. “I know. That’s why you’re here.”
Chapter 11
“He told me you’d be coming,” Amanda Sievert said as she opened the door and let Sean Wells into her home. The house was a nice, well maintained, two-story structure located in the rolling hills of Virginia. The inside of her home was neat and orderly.
“Dr. Jackson said you’d prefer to remain anonymous,” Sean said, “which is fine with me. Do you have a name you’d like me to use, or should I pick one at random?”
She smiled and glanced at the floor. “I kind of like the name Lucy. Would that work?”
Sean smiled back at her. “Perfect,” he replied. “You look like a Lucy to me.”
A worried look crossed her face. “How does this work, exactly?”
“In my business you’re considered a confidential source. Your identity is protected through a number of court decisions. I take notes in a paper notebook, which you can read and edit as you deem necessary before I leave. If you want to make a copy of my notes before I go, just say so. I’m happy to do that. No recording will be made, so no one will hear your voice. Any other question
s?”
She shook her head. “I have iced tea if you’d like some.”
“Sure,” Sean replied.
She led him to a parlor in the back of the house where a pitcher of tea and glasses waited on a coffee table.
“So what’s the first thing you remember about being abducted?” Sean asked as he sat down in a padded chair.
She was about to pour the iced tea when her hand began to shake, spilling some of the tea. She sighed and closed her eyes. “Sorry,” she said quietly. She set the pitcher down and used several napkins to clean up the mess. “You’d think I’d be more used to being asked that by now.”
“I’ve had a few rough experiences that are still a bit raw,” he said. “Are you okay?”
She nodded reluctantly, poured two glasses of tea, and settled in on the couch. “I guess my first memories come from my childhood. I just thought they were strange dreams at first, but then odd things were happening around the dreams. I woke up one morning with my pajamas on backward. That happened twice, actually.”
Sean looked up from his notes. “That happened at the same time as the dream?”
She nodded. “Other things, like a Band-Aid being on my left elbow when I went to sleep, only to find it on my right forearm in the morning. Strange things like that.”
Sean nodded. “What did your parents say?”
She shrugged. “They just thought I was a strange kid. I didn’t realize the dreams were real until I was an adult living on my own. That’s when my life fell apart.”
Sean stopped taking notes and watched her closely for a moment. She seemed to be lost in her past as she stared off toward the window. Her clothes were of good quality and she seemed meticulous about her appearance. Was all of the outer care a compensation for the inner turmoil she must be experiencing?
“So what happened?” he asked.
She took a deep breath. “I was having raging fits of anger. I accused everyone around me of lying to me, trying to convince me that everything I described to them was just my overactive imagination. I used alcohol to calm the night terrors. That helped some at first, then things got even worse with addiction setting in. I went into rehab and therapy. I was on my third therapist when he referred me to Dr. Jackson.”
Sean’s eyebrows rose. “And that helped?”
“Hypnotherapy,” she said, as she nodded. “Recovering those memories was a terrifying ordeal, but once I understood that something real had happened to me, I was gradually able to wrap my mind around it. I wasn’t crazy or hallucinating; I was a victim of an alien abduction.”
Sean scribbled his notes and looked over at her again. “How long have you been seeing Dr. Jackson?”
She smiled. “About twelve years. I met my husband in one of Dr. Jackson’s therapy groups. None of my friends or family wanted to understand what I was going through, but Sam had been going through the same things, so . . .”
“Would he be willing to talk with me?” Sean asked.
She shook her head. “He’s not interested in speaking out, but he has become obsessed with studying UFOs and aliens in general. He says maybe someday he’ll write a book.”
Sean nodded. Thoughts of his own book on UFOs and aliens swirled in the back of his mind. He paused, leaned back, and studied her for a moment. “Have the abductions continued?”
She nodded slowly. “It’s become a little easier to handle now that I understand what’s happening. I still don’t have any control over what happens, but I remember more of the details after the abductions.”
He wrote down her detailed descriptions of the interior of the saucers, the probes, and the pain she experienced.
When she finished she said, “I have something to show you.” She led him up the stairs to her bedroom. “I’m one of the people who helped convince Dr. Jackson that the abduction phenomenon was real. He believed people were experiencing something that was traumatizing them, but was less convinced it was aliens.”
She stood next to the bed. “I was asleep in this bed when they came for me. I recognized the bright white light that came through the window. Four of those small grey creatures floated down through the ceiling of my room. They stood around me as they floated me up through the ceiling, the roof, and through the branches of the big oak tree right there in the back yard.”
Sean stepped forward and looked out the window. The massive tree was probably more than two hundred years old. Its limbs reached over the house, partially sheltering it like a giant umbrella. “The saucer was above the tree?”
“Uh-huh,” she replied.
“And you say they floated you up through the roof and the tree?”
She nodded.
This was incredible. He knew the U.S. Space Command fighter craft used antigravity to fly the way they did, but to pass through solid walls, a roof, and this huge oak tree? That was a stretch. He turned to look at her.
“When they were done with me they floated me back down through the tree, the roof, and into my bed. In the morning I found this.”
She opened the small drawer in the nightstand next to the bed, removed a white box, opened it, and handed it to him.
Sean’s mind was spinning. “Did you show this to Dr. Jackson?”
She nodded again. “This is probably why he recommended that you come and see me.”
Sean’s hand began to tremble. “May I touch it?”
“Just be careful,” she said. “I don’t want it damaged.”
“I understand,” Sean said quietly. The hair in the box was the same red shade as Amanda’s hair, but longer than she wore it now. Three light brown dried oak leaves were embedded in the hair. He carefully lifted the hair and leaves from the box and examined them closer. The leaves weren’t just tangled in the hair. The hair passed through the leaves. He tugged gently on several strands of hair. They didn’t move. The hair and the leaves had become part of each other. He looked over at her in astonishment.
“I had to cut my hair in order to get rid of the leaves. They were green at first, but over the years . . .”
Something clicked in Sean’s mind. Green, he thought. That was it. Amanda had the most beautiful green eyes he had ever seen. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually saw someone with such rich green eyes.
He stared at the leaves mixed with her hair. “May I photograph it?”
She nodded.
He took out his camera and snapped several photos. His mind was reeling as he handed the box back to her. The technology to do this was beyond anything he could imagine: to pass through solid objects and float through the air. He shook his head.
“I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s real,” she said.
He nodded. “I do believe you.”
Sean reviewed his notes with Amanda and she agreed that they were accurate. She didn’t want a copy so he packed up and got ready to leave.
“Thank you for doing this, Amanda, it means a great deal to me.”
She nodded as she took his business card.
“If you need anything, or have anything else for me, please call.”
Chapter 12
General McHenry stood at the front of the conference room as the new members of the Space Command Army met after lunch. A crew of people measured the soldiers and pulled uniforms out of large plastic bins.
“Reminds me of basic training,” Sergeant Henderson said. “Just without the short haircut.”
“You can’t get your hair any shorter than it already is,” Colonel Novak said. “You going to keep that peach fuzz or are you going for totally bald?”
Henderson shrugged, passing his hand over the short, thin blond hair on his head. “Don’t know. Still thinking about it.”
Novak grinned. “Well, don’t over think it. You’re ugly enough now.”
The rest of the men snickered. Henderson smiled.
“All right, people,” McHenry said, “listen up. This is what you need to know about the enemy.”
The lights dimmed and a photo of a dea
d Zeta Grey appeared on the display screen behind him.
“This is a dead Zeta Grey. We want the rest of them just like the one on the screen: Dead. They are telepathic and can control your thoughts if they are within about a hundred feet. The closer they are, the stronger their influence. The foot soldiers are about three to three and a half feet tall, very vicious, and fearless. They follow orders to the exclusion of everything else. They have no emotions. You cannot reason with them. You cannot manipulate or influence them in any way, so all of your psychological operation skills will not help you. What personality they may have is pure psychopath.
“The tall Greys, which are about a foot taller, are the officers. As always, officers are premium targets, so prioritize accordingly. You can expect one tall Grey for every hundred short ones. The papers being passed out contain the analysis of the Zeta Grey attack on the base last week: what worked, what didn’t, and why. Familiarize yourself with the info; you are the new front line of defense.
“Your enemy’s strengths are: advanced technology; telepathy, which includes the ability to locate you at a distance through your thoughts; and very effective night vision. Your enemy needs to rest for only two hours a day and stops for nourishment once in every six weeks. Advanced technology includes an electronic interface embedded within their brains, through which they are in almost constant contact with not only each other, but a massive computer network and all electromagnetic communications systems. They also have flying saucers capable of interplanetary flight, particle beam weapons, and these.”
The display screen changed to an image of a flash gun.
“The flat end is the business end of the weapon. This collar near the front controls the focus. Full left is wide angle, right is narrow beam. The back button is for stun, middle is kill, and forward is for vaporize. Effective range is two hundred feet, max.”
Colonel Novak stood. “Effective countermeasures?”
McHenry shook his head. “Not really,” McHenry said. “Stun and kill functions are line of sight and will not penetrate walls or doors. Vaporize will penetrate everything we know of so far.”
