The Roswell Protocols

by Allan Burd

  “There,” said Rankem. Tapping Lowell on the shoulder he pointed to the body lying on the floor. “Damn, looks like Vangrell.” Vangrell was the tallest among them. “Can’t tell if he’s dead or alive while he’s in that damned enviro-suit—oh my God!” He stopped in mid-sentence as he noticed the two massacred bodies lying close by. He cocked his weapon knowing the enemy was still out there. Lowell stood up to get a better view of the carnage.

  “Lowell, get down,” Rankem yelled as he grabbed Lowell by the shoulder.

  His warning came too late. With a flash of blue Lowell’s head exploded and his limp body collapsed to the ground. Rankem quickly became grateful for the environmental suit he wore, noticing it was the only thing between his flesh and the gray matter of Lowell’s brains. An adrenaline surge fueled his rage. Acting on instinct, Rankem quickly rolled behind a nearby boulder. He had no time to mourn his friend as he ducked down to avoid the next blue flash aimed his way.

  He paused a second to catch his breath, assess his limited options, and recheck his weapon. He crouched down with his broad back pressed firmly against the creviced rock. Holding his semi-automatic rifle right out in front of him, he was ready to fire in an instant. He would get revenge or he would die.

  Suddenly, the leaves rustled fiercely, directly above his position. The sound alerting him, he directed his eyes upward seeing a lithe blue inhuman creature dive down from above, its large jet black eyes focused squarely upon him. Its darkly clothed humanoid form descended rapidly. The creature had one arm cocked, ready to thrust a sharp metal blade through his heart.

  Without hesitation, Rankem reacted. Pressing the trigger hard he unloaded twelve rounds into the falling alien’s body before it landed on his own. Three bullets hit it in its chest, two in its arm, two more in the neck, and five in its head. As he threw its dead body off of his, he noticed there were now more organic remains and fluids on his suit. He smiled. Now that’s more like it, he thought. “That’s for Lowell you ugly son of a bitch,” he shouted. “And that’s only the beginning,” he whispered to himself as he got up and readied himself for more. An instant later, another beam of blue struck the ground near the boulder.

  “So … there are more of you, but now I know where you like to hide,” he said to himself as he jumped out from behind cover and fired to his left, high in the trees. The high pitched shriek he heard filled him with hope as an alien plunged from the tree and scrambled away on all fours. Cautiously, he approached his target. Then a blue bolt struck him down from behind and exploded out of his chest.

  Jackson, Vox, and Avery heard the sound of gunfire in the distance. Even more deafening than the noise of battle was the silence that followed. They didn’t know whether their friends were alive and victorious, or dead. They only knew that whatever was happening was over and they had their own task to complete. Vox raised his binoculars and caught a glimpse of what must’ve been the spaceship. The sun reflecting off the metal hull made it difficult to see it clearly. Nevertheless, he signaled Avery and Jackson forward. They would be there soon enough.

  “Any life signs?” asked Avery.

  “Not yet. But I think I see the ship. I’m going up another ten. Watch my back,” ordered Vox as he move forward. Noticing all clear, he waved the others up. All three lay prone as Vox studied the terrain through his binoculars. Then he fixed in on the ship. “Got it,” he said.

  “What have you got?” asked Jackson.

  “It seems mostly intact—big, but not huge, fifty, sixty meters across—round, but not perfectly round like you would imagine. Brownish coppery metal … can’t make the rest out from here but it’s definitely what we’ve been looking for,” answered Vox. “I’m going twenty.”

  Vox cautiously ran closer, taking cover behind an oak. Lying prone, he studied the ship. This time he had a good view without the binoculars. Although partially covered in ground and snow, he saw no visible portholes or windows that would allow a glimpse of the inside. He was amazed that the craft looked to be in good condition considering it had crashed.

  Focusing for a closer look, he studied the alien hull. Although there were areas of black indicating friction burns, he could not find any dents. There was, however, a gaping hole in the side of the ship.

  Without looking, he motioned to Jackson and Avery to come to his position. He listened as they approached and when they arrived, he turned his head to show them what he saw. Except it wasn’t them. Two aliens, dressed in black skintight cloth were standing behind him. Each held a circular metallic object pointed directly at him. He looked past the aliens toward Jackson and Avery only to find their bodies slumped on the ground. Don’t hesitate, he thought. That was what Rankem told him. Don’t hesitate or it could cost you your life. But he had two creatures pointing presumably deadly weapons at him and he couldn’t help but hesitate.

  One alien, greenish gray, smooth skin, hollow blue eyes, a short mouth with a sharp toothed grin, reached toward him and grabbed the radio from his hip holster. Vox became frozen with fear. He still held his weapon in his hand, but he was lying on his side and there was no way he could turn and fire in time. Don’t hesitate, he thought.

  He stared up as one alien put the circular metallic object into a device strapped to its forearm. He pulled out a small tool and in a few seconds dismantled the radio.

  Don’t hesitate, Vox thought.

  The alien studied the components briefly then threw the useless pieces to the ground. He turned to the other and screeched.

  Don’t hesitate, Vox thought.

  And this time he didn’t. Thinking the aliens were momentarily distracted, he quickly rolled over and raised his weapon from the ground. An instant later a blue light was the last thing he saw. The creatures looked at his tattered corpse, turned to each other, and shrieked softly. Then with a graceful bounce they leapt into the nearest trees.

  31

  Steele and Boudreaux nodded to each other. Thirty feet ahead, high up in a tree, was something with gray skin, four to five feet tall, long limbs, lithe muscular build, wearing what looked like a navy Lycra body suit. About twenty feet to their left, a second one was moving swiftly and silently towards their position, this one a violet-blue swirl of motion. Steele flashed the hand sign for the remainder of team four, Parker, Paneur, and Buck, to act.

  Simultaneously, all three soldiers sprang from their positions and fired their weapons at the gray alien moving towards them. Caught by surprise, it never stood a chance, collapsing in an unrelenting hail of gunfire. Its short piercing death cry, the first extraterrestrial sound they ever heard, was one they would not soon forget.

  The violet alien in the tree reacted swiftly, aiming its weapon directly at Parker. Now it was Steele and Boudreaux’s turn. The two leaders leapt out from opposite sides of the large rock and shot the alien down from the tree before it could fire a shot. Steele began to move toward the fallen bodies.

  “Forget that,” ordered Lt. Boudreaux. “We’ll have plenty of time to examine them later. Right now let’s get to the ship.”

  Steele nodded and continued on. About two hundred yards ahead, through the gaps between the trees, he saw the spaceship. They were closing in fast.

  Boudreaux gave the command for them to approach as a unit, each man in a line guarding the others flank. Boudreaux was not expecting an attack from behind but every few yards he turned around anyway, just to make sure. When they got within a hundred meters, he signed halt and waved Steele to his position.

  “You see that?” Boudreaux asked.

  “The ship?” asked Steele, not sure what Boudreaux meant.

  “No, not the ship. There,” exclaimed Boudreaux, pointing to a moving tree limb some twenty yards ahead. “There are more of them and they know we’re coming.”

  “Spot any?”

  “Not yet.”

  Steele hand-signed the warning along with instructions to flank the ship. Parker flashed a warning back. He saw a dark one approaching low and fast. Steele turned in that d
irection and briefly caught a glimpse of two others ducking for cover. Boudreaux thought he saw another one high in the trees. He took a deep breath and ran forward, firing his weapon high all the way to his next chosen cover-point behind a tree. The others followed his move. Five soldiers charging from cover-point to cover-point fired automatic weapons into different sections of the forest where they thought the enemy lay.

  Flashes of blue light erupted and the forest all around them exploded in an insane symphony of color, sound, and death. Panuer took cover, crouching behind a huge boulder. Not really sure where the enemy was anymore, he prepared to charge forward to his left, aiming low. A blue beam, angled down from the tree line above, caught him square in the chest before he could move.

  Parker saw where the blue flash came from and aimed his next blast into the trees. Some branches fell to the ground, but no aliens.

  Shit, these things are fast, he thought as he fled for cover. Two beams hit him simultaneously from both sides, forcing Parker’s now separated body in two different directions.

  Buck charged one of the aliens who killed Parker, shooting it in its chest many times. Spurts of dark blue goo oozed onto its shadowy attire. As it dropped to the ground, Buck fired twice more to make sure. Then Buck felt a brief pain in his side, but it didn’t last more than a second. His death was instantaneous.

  Steele blanketed the forest high and low with cover fire as he made his way over to Lt. Boudreaux’s position. A flash of blue light struck the ground behind him. He darted left and redirected his fire accordingly. Multiple bullets ricocheted off the trees, shredding the weather-beaten bark protecting it. By the time he reached Boudreaux, the forest was quiet. The two remaining soldiers in Team Four crouched down behind a giant oak and looked out.

  “It’s just us left, sir,” said Steele.

  “I know. How many did you get?” asked Boudreaux.

  “Not sure. How many left?” asked Steele.

  “Don’t know.” Boudreaux paused. “We’re only about twenty meters from the ship. You ready?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but when this is over, you and me are gonna have ourselves a drink.” Steele tapped an extra flask he had on his hip. “I always fill it with vodka. Gives me something to look forward to.”

  “Absolut?” questioned Boudreaux with a sardonic tone.

  “Absolutely,” answered Steele.

  Boudreaux smiled. “Ready?”

  Steele reloaded and locked his gun in reply.

  They never got started. The oak they hid behind exploded at them as the aliens focused their beams at the tree. The force of the blast blew them ten yards away as wooden shards splintered their suits and their bodies. Lt. Boudreaux died quickly. Steele was not so lucky. He lay on his back, his face bloodied, his body wracked with pain. A two-foot piece of oak stuck out of his right leg.

  Pain is good, he thought. Focus on the pain and stay awake. He looked up and could only see a mist of snow and dirt floating slowly to the ground after the blast, providing him with a split second of cover. He looked to his left and saw his gun. Reaching out with his left arm, he grabbed an imbedded rock and pulled himself closer to the weapon. He pushed the ground with his good leg and clawed the cold hard dirt until he was within reach. Grasping the weapon firmly with both hands, he leaned against the nearest tree and waited, forcing himself not to black out before he got his shot.

  As two aliens walked through the settling mist, Steele fired wildly. He had caught them completely by surprise. A navy blue alien with white eyes was hit in the neck and head, dying instantly. The second, a gray, was hit in the arm, causing it to drop its weapon as four more bullets strafed across its upper torso. As it fell, it let out a high pitched wail that echoed strangely and loudly throughout the woods. Steele dropped his gun and covered his ears. He was sure that any living creature within earshot was doing the same. The pain was excruciating as his head felt like it was going to explode. Until finally, the alien succumbed, taking its death cry along with it.

  Steele uncovered his ringing ears. His environmental suit was ripped to shreds and soaked in his blood. His right leg was a mess. Aside from the piece of tree stuck in it, he thought he saw a bone protruding through his fatigues. He didn’t even try to get up. His eyes scanned the bodies of the extraterrestrials he just killed, especially the one that screamed. He had avenged the deaths of his friends, he stared the enemy directly in the eyes, and he had won. Now he could allow himself to rest.

  32

  The alien’s earsplitting shrill may have stopped, but the echo still rang through Major Gaines’ ears. Everything had gone wrong.

  Le Buc noticed as well. “I assume you don’t need my linguistic services to interpret that,” said Professor Le Buc.

  David didn’t bother to answer. He stared at Pierre with eyes that were searching for a solution he knew he wouldn’t find. He turned to one of his soldiers and barked out. “Luc, I need you to backtrack out of the interference zone. Get a message to Rebecca concerning our situation.”

  “That won’t be necessary sir,” said Luc. He knew the Major did not like to have his orders questioned, so he quickly explained. “A few seconds after that noise, the interference ceased. Here, listen.” Luc held his two way radio out and held the com button. There was no static at all. “That’s the good news, sir. The bad news is there’s no other response. The other teams are … gone, sir.”

  Major Gaines removed his own two-way from his holster. “Team Two, do you copy?” No answer. “Team Four … come in. C’mon, damn it—answer me.” David tried again to raise somebody, but each time silence followed.

  Gaines tried calling Rebecca. “Team One to Anchor. Do you copy?”

  “Anchor here,” she answered. “What’s going on in there?”

  “Murphy’s Law hit us like a ton of bricks. Status Code Omega One. Teams Two, Three, and Four are not responding so we have to assume the worst. Relay our op-stat to the Admiral. We’re going to proceed, but have him send in the second wave.”

  “Where are you now, Major?”

  “Approximately 200 meters from our target site. We don’t know why, but the interference is gone. It might mean the ET’s cut off their power—”

  A flash of cool light reached out of nowhere and pulverized Luc. Team One reacted to their training well, responding in full measure within an eye blink. Major Gaines rolled to cover, accidentally dropping the radio, and readied his automatic weapon with the practiced ease of a man with a lifetime of battle experience. He fired wildly in the direction of the flash, hoping to hit whatever was out there. Bell, Trask, and Rivera did the same.

  However, Le Buc was not as graceful. Covering his head with one hand, he ran as fast as his old legs would take him behind the nearest tree. He was not at all sure how to react. His gift was languages, communications, not armed warfare. He looked around hoping to find a better role for himself in this confrontation when he heard Rebecca’s screaming voice, barely audible over the sounds of rapid gunfire. He crawled along the open ground toward David’s radio. A cold beam of pure force sailed just above his back, scattering the ground behind him. He lowered his body flat and scraped his way forward. “Think. Damn you old man, think.”

  He reached out with his left hand and grabbed the radio. Rebecca’s voice was still screaming out of it. Rolling onto his back, leaning his head against a tree, he pushed the com button to respond. “Le Buc here. We’ve been attacked.” Le Buc looked up from his prone position and for the first, and possibly the last time in his life, he saw an extraterrestrial. It was standing directly over him with a sharp metal blade protruding from a band on its forearm. Standing about four meters tall, it had a lean, wiry build. Large hollow eyes melted into a pitch black face, just above a slight bump of a nose and a small mouth. White stringy hair draped over its narrow strong shoulders and skin-tight black garment which appeared similar to a neoprene wet suit. Le Buc was mesmerized by the creature before him. So mesmerized, that he didn’t even show the slightest bit of fe
ar as the alien raised his arm preparing to strike.

  Rebecca ran over to the two pilots who were keeping warm over a pot of coffee. “You, radio to Admiral Brock, Code status Omega One, requesting immediate backup, designate second wave.” Rebecca shouted the orders, firmly in command. The first pilot put down his cup and broke for the radio.

  She turned to the second pilot. “How many suits do we have left?”

  “None, Ma’am. We only brought enough for the soldiers.”

  “Weapons?”

  “Some,” the pilot answered. “I got a few automatics left in the back of my chopper.”

  “That’ll have to do. You’re with me, flyboy. We’re going in.”

  Professor Le Buc was frozen. Not from fear, but out of curiosity, disbelief, and because his reflexes were dulled from years of inactivity. By the time he regained his senses and realized he was about to die it was too late.

  A hail of bullets zipped through the air, ripping into the alien with a ghastly finality. It fell dead and Le Buc watched in relief and horror as a puddle of dark blue liquid oozed from its wounds.

  “Nice moves, Professor,” said Major Gaines dryly. “Next time try a little less studying and a lot more communication.” He reached over grabbing the radio Le Buc had recovered. Then he drew a second automatic weapon from a zippered pocket in the suit, locked in a new magazine, and handed it to Le Buc. “Here, you left this in the chopper.”

  For once the Professor was glad David didn’t miss a trick. “This is not exactly the form of communication I hoped to engage in,” responded Le Buc, staring at the weapon his friend just put in his hands.

  “You know, Professor, I’m not sure whether to admire your principles or scold your naivety.”

  Le Buc got to his feet looking at the dead alien’s bloody body with disgust. “Perhaps if your contentious colleagues learned a different language other than barbarism, you wouldn’t be so confused.”