by Tom Holloway
Caroline kisses Anna’s fingers on her right hand, as the sponge cleanses her face, then she reaches up to touch Anna’s cheek.
Anna smiles, holding Caroline’s hand, tenderly looking into her eyes, saying, “I also need a favor from you.”
Caroline nods her head.
Anna responds, “I ask you for both our sakes, do not tell anyone about my friends or me. It will be better for you, too. No one will believe all that has happened to you; it’s even unbelievable for me to digest. No one will understand.”
Caroline, now tears in her eyes, says, “Yes, you are right. Is this reality? Are you here? Do you know if my sister Elisabeth is dead?
Caroline continues, “Have you seen her? How do I know this is real? Are you really Anna? It is hard to believe. Anna Summers, is it really you. I have always loved you, and now I guess I owe you my life. This is surreal; if you’re not an angel, are you really Anna Summers? Is my sister dead? Do you know?”
Anna responds, with tears in her eyes: “I am so sorry. Your sister was killed.”
Caroline’s despair is immediate; she cries out in misery, soulful, pure anguish; she is sobbing uncontrollably, trying to talk, cries out: “My poor sister! She was better than me. I should be the dead one. Elisabeth was so kind and good, to have suffered so badly! There was nothing I could do. I think I want to die. It could not have happened. God would never allow something so evil to occur to such a wonderful person. Yes, maybe I will wake up tomorrow out of this nightmare. How do I know if this is real? What happened to that monster, Sebastian?”
Anna leans forward and gently kisses her on the forehead, then tenderly whispers in her ear, “You will prevail. You are strong, and he did not defeat you! He has been taken care of; he will never bother anyone else again.”
Caroline, intently staring into Anna eyes, says, “If it’s really you, I do thank you with all my heart, and I will say nothing about you or your friends. If I can ask, how did you heal my wounds, give me my ears back? Did you actually say we’re in a starship, and they’re your friends? It’s not possible. And what happened to Sebastian? Who were those wolf creatures? Were they real werewolves?”
Anna sits on the bed, leaning over, reaching out for her hand, making eye contact. “Caroline, yes, we are on a starship. You probably are still in shock, and it’s hard to comprehend all of this. It will take a long time, and I know you will heal from your loss. You’re strong. No worries about Sebastian; he paid the price for killing your sister—the asshole is dead. You will never see him again. You have nothing to fear from him, nor does anyone else. I am so sorry about your sister and what you had to see, what you went through. You will need some counseling. You know your Elisabeth would want you to go forward.”
“As for your wounds, just consider the healing and the repairs a gift from God, a miracle provided by him and your new friends. Also, most importantly, tell no one; do you understand? The police will want a statement. Tell them you remember you and your sister being kidnapped by Sebastian but nothing more. You have amnesia from the trauma. They will believe you.”
“Caroline, so that you know, we burned down the rest of his house and buildings. It’s all gone, everything completely vaporized. Even the basement is filled in, the rest just scorched ground. No one needed to see it or to know what happened to you there. And the rest of the girls he killed don’t need to be remembered that way. It is good to erase this evil. We will also destroy any DNA left, make him totally disappear. The fire was so hot, everything vaporized; there is nothing left of him or his belongings. The wolf-looking soldiers you saw are just regular soldiers wearing disguises. They saved your life. Please do not mention them to the police. Just stick to the loss of memory due to shock. They will not believe what really happened, and they will not leave you alone if you don’t give them a story they can understand.”
“Caroline, it’s time. Are you ready to go home? We’ll catch a lift to Earth, and then we travel in my limousine to your home. It is early, three o’clock in the morning, still dark; you may be hungry, not sure the last time you ate, so you’ll be able to have breakfast with your parents. You are alive and in one piece. I’ve called them, and they are ecstatic that you are alive. They’re waiting for you. They will let the police know after I’m gone. I did not tell them who I am. Please do not tell them. Remember, you do not know how you ended up at home.”
She nods her head, reaches for Anna’s hand, and whispers, “Bless you, and I thank you. I will say nothing about you.”
Although Anna did not know about the current police activity, Henry knew every detail. The police had been at Sebastian Branski’s estate within minutes of the attack, one police car only, as the entire backup was delayed by the Cyclone microwaving pulses at the incoming cruisers, causing the engines to quit as they drove toward the mansion. Officer T. J. Bishop had made the call for backup, as he was already there. He was coincidentally driving by on a routine patrol and noticed some weird things happening. He stopped at the closed front gate then noticed, oddly enough, there were no security guards at the gatehouse. Looking through the bars at the long road to the mansion, it was all dark, no lights on anywhere, yet there was all kinds of activity. Security guards were lying on the ground moaning, dazed, and not moving much. There were flashes of light going off here and there on the grounds and some kind of scary, weird growling sound every so often, just scary as hell.
T. J. decided to call for backup and quickly retreated behind his police cruiser. To his complete shock, there was a series of large explosions in the mansion and then terrible-looking werewolves, like something out of a horror film, were all over the grounds, some disappearing into the mansion. Then the mansion disappeared in a massive explosion, just gone, vaporized. He could hardly breathe, as it seemed the air was being sucked up. He grabbed the bumper of the cruiser and held on, feeling the suction and a wave of hot air coming from above. Looking up, he could see what looked like the underside of a massive spaceship, maybe a couple hundred feet up. It was hard to see in the dark, but it was definitely not from this planet. T. J. then passed out from sheer overwhelming fright.
I’m waiting for Anna and the limousine at the all-night diner where we had breakfast previously. I’ve just finished a really great cup of coffee. Coffee from Earth, fresh-brewed, is priceless.
I know the FBI, CIA, and NSA guys are not too far away, watching me. I am used to them.
I’m glad about Sebastian. That was the end of a truly evil man. His download of memories was gruesome and his mind truly twisted, even more insane after the drone slips manipulated his brain into giving up his secrets. The drones used his eye sockets to come and go, extracting a lot. His DNA was examined and found to be corrupted. One good thing was Sebastian did not have children or siblings, and both his parents were dead. Death was not quick for him, as the drones did a number on his brain, and then killed him when they were done. He was vaporized, including his clothing, all gone forever. He will never hurt anyone again or use any resources for his own gain. He signed away all his assets, a new will, right before his death, authorizing the setting up a trust fund for the families of his victims, anonymously giving them monthly payments. The unsolved crimes he committed were taken from his memories and will be reported to the police and to their families; the missing bodies will be recovered from the burial locations.
Looking out the diner’s window, I see Anna is here with the limousine. It’s four-thirty in the morning. Time to go home and get some rest.
Chapter 33
The President of the United States—Iran—Nuclear Weapons
A few minutes later, on the way back to Anna’s house, four large official-looking black SUVs come up on us from behind. Two of them pass us, two are behind us, and, much to our surprise, they all turn on hidden blinking police lights. I am thinking, What now? I’m not interested in having issues with anybody. The limo driver pulls over and gets out, goes back to meet them, comes back, and says to me, “Mr. Johnson, they say the
y’re FBI, and they want to talk to you.”
I can feel the Cyclone over us, and I calm it down. I think we’re fine, yet the Cyclone drops in altitude, only three hundred feet up, close enough that I can feel its heat, and can hear the exhausts; know it’s watching these men. Anna is alarmed, looks at me, and asks what we should do. I say I will talk to them, not a problem.
I get out and walk back. Three are to my left, and three have come up behind me from the front vehicles. I know they will all be vaporized by the Cyclone in a fraction of a second if they pull out their weapons. I say, “My name is Henry Johnson. Please do not pull your weapons. I am unarmed. It is critical you do not look hostile or do anything that looks threatening. I have security here over your heads, closely watching you. Please be careful because it is instantaneous death for you.---- Do you understand me?”
They are all looking up and around, real nervous. All of them nod; looking at me, fear in their eyes.
“I am happy to talk,” I say. “What do you want?”
The FBI guy nearest to me says, “Captain Johnson, we have a phone call for you from the president of the United States, and if it’s OK to hand this phone to you—”
I nod, and someone hands me a cell phone. It rings, and I answer it. The president is on the call. I recognize his voice, and I respond, “Yes, Mr. President. Yes, I am Captain Henry Johnson.”
“Yes, Captain Johnson. How are you?”
“Fine, Mr. President. What can I do for you?”
The president says, “I have a real national crisis. It is critical that we talk. However, what I am about to say is a matter of national security. Plus, the lives of millions of Americans are at stake. There is no time. First of all, so that you know the latest information, I will bring you up to the last hour. Much of this you may already know.” It had been explained to him that I have access to all the US databases, including the encrypted stuff.
The president continues, “Unfortunately Iran has become an acute critical national security crisis, and since I know about Iran then I know about the current issues. It is much worse now. One hour ago Iran gave the United States an ultimatum: they intend to bomb Israel with nuclear warheads, with six ICBMs, at 7:00 p.m. Eastern Standard Time, which is about fifteen hours from now. They want the United States to stand down after the bombing, no retaliation and no interference, or face the destruction of six major cities in the United States and more attacks from the Iranian army. Several units of commandos have infiltrated the United States. This problem we have neutralized, as we think we have these troops captured, or they have been killed, thanks to your warning. Unfortunately, the nuclear bombs are still a really appalling problem, and the next twenty-four hours are really critical. We desperately need your help, the help you offered previously. By the way, neither China nor Russia has any part of this. It’s more like a plan B for Iran.”
“The Iranians have planted six large nuclear warheads to be detonated when triggered. They say the warheads are impossible to find, as they are moved every twenty-four hours, traveling back and forth, using unmarked trucks, between selected major US cities. We have been told not to warn Israel or to react to the destruction of Israel; we are to mind our own business. It is a desperate situation. Millions of lives could be lost. We are hoping and praying for a miracle, praying you will help us with a miracle.”
“Mr. President, I am interested in helping you, although at this moment I have no authorization. As you know, Earth is not a member of the Consortium and officially not in my jurisdiction. I am restricted in how much I can do for you.”
“Captain Johnson, first of all, we have decided to apply for membership to the Consortium if you will help us. Second, John Jacobs explained to us you have incredible weapons. He said you vaporized twenty Iranian solders simultaneously with pinpoint accuracy. Your weapons are far more advanced than ours. Our question to you is can you take out six nuclear warheads at the same moment? Can you find these nuclear warheads for us? If you can do this, would you do it for us?”
“Mr. President, yes to all three. However, I need three favors in return.”
“Captain Johnson, if it’s in our power, we will comply with whatever you want. You have my word.”
“Mr. President, we will talk later about it. For now I have only one issue in helping you. The warheads must be activated before we can accurately detect them. They will be activated only right before they are used. Thus we have a split second to destroy them, which means collateral damage. There is no time to warn people. When we vaporize the warheads, the temperature will be close to thirty-five thousand degrees, which will explode any buildings instantaneously where they are located and all people within two hundred feet. After this is done, your people will think we attacked them. You must go on national TV immediately and explain what happened in detail and why, then explain that we saved these cities from Iran. Do you agree? Also, do not mention me. Just say a Consortium military starship is here, and you asked for help. We helped because you asked.”
“Captain Johnson, I agree. What do we do now?”
“Mr. President, at one o’clock this afternoon, Eastern Time, you will call Iran and tell them they will not activate the nuclear warheads in the United States and that they will tell you where they are immediately. You will tell them they will not attack Israel and will hand over their ICBMs and the warheads. If not, Iran’s leadership of their military plus all government and religious leaders in power who made or help make these decisions will cease to exist within one hour of the attack on Israel. They will be in violation of Consortium laws and subject to these penalties. Tell them a Consortium military starship is here on Earth. Are we in agreement?”
The president responds, “Yes, Captain Johnson, we are in complete agreement. I will make the phone call. What will you do?”
“Mr. President, we will be in contact. It will be taken care of. The bombs will be destroyed. Israel will not be harmed.”
The SUVs drive off, and I am back in the limo with Anna. She looks at me, questioning. I look at her and give her a hard, compressed smile. “It was the president of the United States. He wants a favor from me.”
I explain the situation to Anna, and she asks, “Can you really do this? Will the Cyclone be successful? It seems impossible. What if you fail? How many people die? I wonder if LA is a target. What about my home and my friends? Can we warn them? What about my sister and family? Henry, what do you want me to do?”
“Anna, you’re going with me. Can’t chance you staying here in LA. No time to warn anyone, and where would they go? If we fail then there will be total chaos, martial law, no place will be safe. We have a ninety-four percent chance of success. I think we should be able to do this, but the timing of the attacks is critical. You will be on the Cyclone, the safest place in this galaxy. And you might be able to help, too. The Cyclone might use you, might need your instincts; it might access you. If so just relax, and the Cyclone will do the hard part. It will be something you could do to help. The Cyclone will succeed. Your family will be fine.”
“The Cyclone will position itself fifty miles above the United States and wait for the nuclear bombs to be activated. The sensors will detect the activation, and the lasers will fire instantaneously. The bombs may not be set to detonate right away; however, we can’t chance it. The Cyclone will fire as soon as the bombs are activated or located. There are six per Iran’s declaration, but they are lying. The Cyclone says there are nine, and we think we know which cities they’re in. Unfortunately the Iranians move them daily within the cities, and those doing the moving don’t know where they will go ahead of time, so we can’t lift the data. We have to wait for their activation to locate them.”
“Anna, because of this attack the Iranian leaders are criminals, plus fundamentally immoral, sinning in the worst way, ruthlessly killing. Their leaders have endangered millions of lives, and it truly is a rogue country. They need to be corrected and rehabilitated per Consortium laws. It would be easier for m
e if I had official backing from the Consortium and if the Earth was in the Consortium and part of my jurisdiction. However, I will do what is necessary. As you like to say, it is what it is.”
I shake my head, thinking about what poor judgment has led to this. What if I had not been here?
I tell Anna. “Using the Cyclone we will take care of the issues here, we vaporize the Iranian bombs here in the United States, and then head out, go up over Iran and wait for them to start up their attack on Israel. If Iran does what they promised, the Saber will be ready, hovering over Iran, positioned to kill the ICBMs when they are fired off or when they are heading for Israel. The Cyclone is back-up.”
“That’s the plan. The Saber will also then continue the attack, hitting any launching pads on the ground and take out the military aircraft, military bases, radar, and communications. Then the millions of drones that have been released by the Cyclone, will take care of the guilty ones, the people responsible. The guilty will be all identified, as the slips will penetrate their brains. The Saber will activate the larger military drones to kill the identified targets; afterward the bodies will be cleaned up by our debris eater drones. All of the responsible people will cease to exist. Recycling drones or trash eaters are good at doing their job. No bodies will be left. The drones then will reboard the Cyclone.”
Anna looks like she’s going to be sick, her face pale, and she says nothing.
We head back to her place, shower, and dress, and Anna packs some clothing for the trip. She is filled with anxiety, talking about Nikki and her family, and she has no appetite, not eating anything, even knowing we will not eat for a while. She is petrified about what could happen to her family if Iran uses the nuclear weapons and trying to hold steady, trying not to be a problem, summoning her courage to face the next twenty-four hours. I’m thinking since she has known me, life has been nothing but problems for her.
