Hybrid - Forced Vengeance

by Ballan, Greg

  “Whatever,” Erik grumbled as he wondered why the fed was so concerned that he might see the contents of those stolen documents. The fact that Hendrix wanted them back so badly and that this Bertoni woman was risking her own freedom to get them to his hands made this puzzle altogether more interesting. He gave Hendrix a pointed look, saying, “You’ll get your papers back, but we play it my way or you can sit your ass on the sidelines.”

  Hendrix wouldn’t commit himself to what Erik proposed; instead the man excused himself. He walked out of Erik’s office over to the far end of the hallway and dialed out on his cell phone. There was far too much background noise for Erik to decipher what was being said. He had already decided that once he had the information he would look it over before giving it to the fed.

  Chan looked at Erik and then nodded toward Hendrix – still in conversation. “Are all fed types that nervous?”

  Erik shook his head. “Nah, he’s up to something no good, I imagine. I’ll get the stuff back, and do my best to keep James Bond over there out of your hair.”

  Chan laughed as he shook his head. “Let me know how this turns out. We can have somebody close by if needed.”

  “Consider yourself in the loop.” Erik gave them a wave motion as Chan, his men and the fed departed.

  Erik emptied the last of his coffee while pondering on the morning’s events. Hendrix was up to something – that much was obvious – and he was using the local police as his personal lackeys to ensure everything looked above board. Also the fed seemed almost alarmed that he’d returned to the States so soon. This combination all but told him there was information in those documents that merited his attention.

  Erik had a premonition that what was in those documents could give him a lead on Shanda’s whereabouts. That thought brought forth his next course of action, calling the reporter who’d written the story on Shanda’s accident. Erik dialed her phone number.

  “Hello, Eunice. This is Erik Knight.” She immediately recognized him. Erik went on. “I have some questions about my wife’s accident that I’m hoping you can answer. Would it be possible to meet for lunch today?”

  At her positive answer, he confirmed place and time. “Excellent. Noon sharp. Thank you Eunice.” The detective hung up the phone.

  Erik sighed, he needed to inform his boss that he was back in the States and update him on the LaSalle assassination plot. He dialed Martin Denton’s secure line and activated the white noise scrambler in his office as he didn’t have time to check his office for bugs.

  “Good morning, counselor,” Erik began. “I have a problem that you need to be aware of, sir. The order for the hit on Monique LaSalle came from somebody in Washington. I’ve heard the name before, in passing, but I can’t place it. Can you have someone run a check on a Mr. Hildebrandt and get back to me?”

  Denton assured him he would have his information later that day.

  “The gentleman’s full name is Robert Hildebrandt. I think he’s with the Senate Arms Services Subcommittee, but I can’t be sure. At least that’s where I heard the name. I don’t know if he’s a congressman or a lobbyist. I’m not big on the beltway players. I’d like to sit down and have a very long conversation with the man – while nobody else is around – if you know what I mean.

  “One more thing, counselor. A fed named Hendrix was here this morning with two others and a Hopedale detective. They’re looking to bust a secretary named Nancy Bertoni. Supposedly she’s in the possession of stolen files that she feels I must see.”

  Erik paused while Denton denied any knowledge of an operation being conducted at his place of business.

  “I’m not accusing you, counselor. I’m simply relaying the events that occurred in my office this morning. I convinced them to let Ms Bertoni make contact. I’d like two or three of our people to cover Madame’s for the next three or four days. I don’t trust Hendrix and I don’t want him interfering until I’ve had my little chitchat with Ms. Bertoni. I want to know what’s so all-fired important that she would risk stealing from an intelligence agency. I’ll hijack Ms. Bertoni until I can get to the bottom of this. If Hendrix makes a stink about it, I’ll deal with him personally.”

  * * * *

  Richard Pendelton was in the midst of a meeting when Rydel Conrad stepped into the conference room. Conrad’s face was normally set in stone, but this afternoon the man looked agitated. Richard actually thought he saw fear on his trusted aide’s face. There was nothing he could do this minute; the meeting pertained to several of his company’s operations overseas.

  Conrad scribbled a note on a piece of paper, walked over to Richard and handed him the folded paper.

  Hendrix just reported in; Erik Knight returned to the states at 4 a.m. today. He interfered with our interception attempt. Knight is now working with the police and will intercept Bertoni if, and when, she makes contact. If he reads those stolen documents we’re sunk. We know from the OSA computer reports that the files she downloaded mention Pendelcorp and Operation Homegrown.

  Damn that man. Pendelton cursed further under his breath. Stowing the note, he agreed with its sentiments; this did not bode well for them. If Detective Knight got his hands on those files, the underground government and unofficial military operations would be exposed. More importantly, he would be ruined. He could not allow that to happen.

  “Ladies and gentlemen.” He rose. “I regret that a matter of the greatest urgency has been brought to my attention. I want your reports concerning the European supplier issue on my desk by close of business this week. I’ll look them over and have my staffers prepare a list of questions. Let’s schedule a follow-up meeting for Tuesday afternoon at 1:30 p.m.” He headed for the door. Rydel Conrad was hot on his heels.

  Pendelton and Conrad settled in Richard’s spacious office overlooking the Boston Waterfront. Both drank from a large bottle of scotch as Conrad updated Pendelton.

  “He actually left Paris!” Conrad lifted a Paris Daily Journal and focused on the headlines.

  “Here,” Pendelton said excitedly as he searched the Internet. “Silver Superhero rescues Paris debutant and frightens party guests.”

  “Damn it to hell! He must have sensed his wife somehow.”

  Richard activated his videophone. “It’s time we touched base with our dear colonel. Let’s see if the code he provided us really works.”

  They waited several seconds while an aide located Colonel Ross and fed their signal to Ross’s terminal at the command center.

  Colonel Ross’s face appeared on the video screen, and Pendelton was momentarily taken aback. The colonel had huge bags under his eyes and his face was flushed. He appeared extremely agitated.

  “Mr. Pendelton, what can I do for you?” he asked in a somber tone.

  “Erik Knight is back from Paris.” Richard waited for the colonel’s reaction. The officer didn’t seem surprised.

  “A few days ago, we picked up massive telekinetic influxes that penetrated our shields. We assumed it had to be Knight. We don’t know for certain how much he was able to glean, but we do know he is aware that his wife is alive. Shanda Knight admitted that much to us.”

  “What are your plans to protect our investment?” Pendelton asked the colonel who seemed heavily distracted.

  “I don’t know right now. We’re betting on Knight not knowing her location and that she’ll give birth either today or tomorrow. This would allow us to move the hybrid child to a more secure location. That’s about all we can do right now. There are more weighty issues that need to be addressed,” Ross replied in a monotone.

  It was obvious something had gone wrong on his end, something terrible, and Ross wasn’t talking. Richard noticed since first dealing with Ross that his shadow, Anderson, was not in view. “Where is Anderson?”

  “Anderson is under house arrest at this time. He proved to have no stomach for what had to be done.”

  “What are you talking about? What’s going on, Ross?”

  Ross stared back, strai
ghtening his shoulders. “We’re about to go to war with an alien race that has been monitoring our planet for decades. We’ve sat on our asses and collectively done nothing to alleviate the threat. Now it’s up to me to fight the battle our world leaders refuse to fight. The aliens are coming; it’s only a matter of days.” Ross then severed the connection.

  Richard Pendelton and Rydel Conrad stared at each other in disbelief.

  Looking mystified, Conrad asked. “What the hell was that all about?”

  “If we’re to believe the good colonel, he’s about to pick a fight with a race of beings from outside this planet.”

  “Alone?” Conrad asked in disbelief. “Alien invaders my ass. Maybe illegal aliens from Mexico, but from outer space? Unlikely.”

  “Who the fuck knows? If what he’s saying is true, that imbecile will most likely fry this planet and everyone on it.” Richard shook his head in frustration

  “I don’t have a warm fuzzy about this right now,” Conrad agreed, pouring himself a triple shot of scotch. He downed it in one swig and asked, “What do we do?”

  Pendelton shrugged. “What the hell can we do? Phone the cops and say, excuse me, Mr. Police Officer, I’d like to report an upcoming alien invasion. How do I know, you ask?”

  Pendelton went on undaunted by the seriousness of the situation. “Well, officer, because I’m involved in a plot to harvest an alien child from its human mother’s womb so we can create an army of aliens. That’s how I know. Why yes, officer, I just love padded rooms.”

  Conrad chuckled despite himself; it was rare that Richard mocked anything, especially himself. “I see your point.”

  “We sit this one out and see what happens. Meanwhile, we get our contingency plan prepared. I have a feeling we may need to exercise that option before this is all over.” Pendleton reached for the scotch.

  * * * *

  Ross stared at the dark screen in front of him. Damn right he would fight on behalf of the world; it was his duty. He called up the schematics on Goliath and ran a quick check on the battle platform’s arsenal. He then ran another search on the remaining serviceable inventory of weapons at Groom Lake. The screen showed the data: He had two more modified M-1s, five mobile EMP batteries and nine experimental aircraft with lethal missiles that could pierce any type of armor known to science. Ross sighed in relief. He still was a force to be reckoned with.

  “Sir!” a technician shrieked. “Mars Recon Satellite has detected several objects at the edge of its scanner range.”

  “So, it’s begun,” Ross whispered. “Prepare Goliath. Have him ready for action within twelve hours. Call up the remaining Mach 6 Phoenix fighters for deployment. I want the EMP cannons and the remaining M-1s armed and ready to move out.”

  The soldiers stared at him as they comprehended the gravity of the orders they’d been given.

  Ross lit a fire under their asses. “C’mon people! Let’s move like we have a purpose.” The soldiers and airmen jumped to follow his orders.

  “Sir, the representatives from Washington are at the first checkpoint.”

  Ross flinched. Damned politicians. He’d forgotten their visit. He didn’t have time for them, or Operation Homegrown. His mission was to destroy the alien invaders at all cost.

  “Have security lock them down in one of our larger conference rooms, feed them and be civil. They are restricted to bathroom breaks only; I want them neutralized while I handle the present situation.”

  “Sir, NORAD wants confirmation of the incoming data from the Mars Recon Satellite,” a young technician reported.

  “Tell them we’re checking the data right now and awaiting visual signals. Somebody get Lt. Colonel Anderson in here.”

  * * * *

  A dull cramp in Shanda Knight’s hip area told her that Erik Jr. had decided it was time to make an appearance.

  “Sergeant Phelps?” she said as she made her way over to the couch. “You’d better get the doctors. I think it’s time.”

  Phelps leapt to summon Shanda’s medical team and lowered the clear barrier.

  Shanda lay on the couch waiting for the real birthing pains to start. She felt her hips stretch; her body was preparing to give birth. But there was no real pain. Her friends who’d given birth described the pain as an unbearable agony.

  “They’ll be here in a minute,” Phelps assured her.

  “Thanks.” She smiled briefly and adjusted her position on the couch expecting the birthing pains to emerge.

  In a matter of minutes, Dr. Allison Cross and three other medical technicians arrived.

  “Shanda, how do you feel?” the doctor asked.

  “There’s some slight discomfort, but no real pain.” As she spoke, she felt her baby move down her birth canal. “He’s moving into position.”

  “Let’s get you over to the birthing table. I want to assess how many centimeters dilated you are.” Allison and the sergeant helped her to the birthing table.

  The medical team prepped her and positioned her body for delivery. Dr. Cross gestured Phelps toward the hallway. Her usual friendly smile took the sting out of being directed from the room.

  Shanda’s eyes seemed to pop out of their socket as her body began pushing her child through the birth canal. Dr. Cross smiled and Shanda took exception.

  “Oh shit, that’s not funny, doctor,” she said as a new wave of growing discomfort shot through her body.

  “Your baby’s crowning, Shanda. Can you give me another strong push?”

  Shanda nodded and inhaled deeply then pushed with all her might.

  Sergeant Phelps watched the process of birthing new life take place from outside Shanda’s cell.

  Shanda moaned as the cramping sensation became sharper and longer. “Son of a bitch!” she swore. “I felt that one too.”

  “I can see more of the head. Can you push again?” the doctor asked.

  Shanda closed her eyes and pushed again, her swollen body partially lifting from the table. “Oh, God! I think I’m passing a watermelon.”

  Dr. Cross laughed despite herself. “You’re doing fine, Shanda, just a few more pushes.”

  “I want my husband here!” she cried out. “Erik … don’t let them take our son!”

  “Push Shanda, push; he’s almost here!” Allison urged.

  “Oh this really blows!” She pushed one more time.

  After another ten minutes of pushing and cursing, Erik Knight Junior came into the world without a sound. Dr. Cross immediately wrapped the silver child in an infant blanket and handed him to his exhausted mother.

  * * * *

  Shanda wept tears of joy and relief as she held her child close to her. Meanwhile, Dr. Cross examined her patient and was amazed how well her body methodically healed itself. The patient’s pelvic bones slid back to their normal position right after the placenta was expelled and her patient’s cervix reduced in diameter right before her eyes.

  “Unbelievable,” she whispered aloud, as she put away her needle and anesthetic. “The body is healing itself at an incredible rate, with no residual scarring or trauma.” Her patient remained oblivious to the pelvic exam – her eyes locked on her baby boy.

  Dr. Cross moved her examination to the hybrid boy, stroking the child’s silky black hair and then feeling its gentle, yet firm, armored chrome skin.

  The boy’s eyes burned like two pale blue suns while he appeared to look around the room with curiosity. Seeming content to be with his mother, the child soon grew hungry, sucking on everything within reach. The mother tried to feed him, struggling to find a comfortable position.

  “Here,” Allison offered. “Let an old pro help you.” She gently guided mother and child into a more natural feeding position.

  “I’ve delivered over fifty babies, Shanda, and that was the quickest, easiest delivery I have ever seen.”

  “It didn’t seem so quick and easy from my end,” Shanda replied.

  “It never is for the mother.” Allison laughed as she felt the child’s spine whi
le he fed.

  Shanda looked down at Erik Jr. and smiled. “Well he definitely takes after his father.”

  Allison nodded in amazement. “You seem to be taking his appearance awfully well.”

  “I married a man-sized version of him, and I’m part alien myself,” she confessed. “I’m going to assume that Erik Jr. has a human half and will be able to transform like his sire. If not, I truly don’t care. He’s my son and Erik’s son, and that’s all that matters to me.”

  “I don’t have the true knowledge to assess your child, but with the exception of his skin color and his eyes and the claws at the end of his fingertips, he’s almost human. Though there appears to be a small difference in the spinal structure, his back’s bones are much heavier, and there seems to be heavy plating around the entire spinal column and rib cage.”

  Shanda gently stroked her child’s tiny chrome-colored fingers. “My husband should have been here for his birth,” she whispered sadly.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Allison replied softly, understanding her patient’s thinking.

  “Look,” Shanda whispered. “He’s asleep.”

  “I’ve got a bassinet ready for him. See? You should get some rest. Erik Jr. will be right here next to you.”

  Shanda grabbed Allison’s hand with desperation. “Please, doctor, don’t let Ross take my baby. My husband will be coming soon, I’m sure of it.”

  Allison nodded. “I’ll do what I can; I promise.” She then motioned to the medical team to leave the cell.

  “How is she?” Phelps asked, in awe of what he’d witnessed.

  “She’ll be fine. She just needs plenty of rest. Both mother and child are fast asleep.”

  “Too bad her husband was not here though,” Arthur added sadly.

  “Yes, yes it is too bad. Let’s not give up just yet.”

  “Doctor, why is her baby silver? What happened to him? Is that why Ross abducted her?” Phelps asked.