My Ride is a Bitch

by Michael Anderle

  “What are you nodding at?” Melissa asked.

  Richard turned and smiled, “Making sure Samual is still alive.”

  “Could you hear…” A sharp BANG startled her, and she stopped talking.

  A second later, Richard knocked twice. Waited and knocked twice again, then nodded.

  A few moments later, the door started opening.

  “I say, GOTT VERDAMMT that was loud!” Samual screamed, as he took his fingers and acted like he was trying to clear out his ears.

  “What happened drama queen?” Richard asked.

  “Why no, I don’t want any cream right now. Funny time to be asking me that,” Samual replied.

  “I didn’t say ‘did you want cream.' I called you a drama queen…you know what? Never mind. What happened you twit?” Richard asked.

  Samual smiled and stopped playing with his ears, “Well, the first time we got some old metal stuff that came out of the floor. Tell you what, that would have opened everyone a new asshole, that’s for sure. The second one was more a sound defense. Probably break everyone’s eardrums, and when you are incapacitated, they come in and beat the shit out of you.”

  “So, did you figure it out?” Richard asked.

  “Yes, when I turned my head after the second button, I realized there was another switch that had been hidden by the door and went over and pushed it. The other door is open now.”

  “Huh, five more red switches,” Terry said before Melissa slugged him. He put up his hands, “Just curious.”

  The team followed Samual back into the base. Richard stayed and closed the door once everyone had passed him.

  —

  “Oh..my God,” Melissa said into the quiet of the large room. There were over two hundred metal caskets connected to power in the room.

  Richard and Samual had looked further into the base and were coming back. “It’s the mother lode back there,” Richard jerked a thumb behind the two of them. “Lots of stuff to go through and not a soul to be found back there. Plus, there is some sort of area, I’d call it a séance room.”

  Robert nodded to Craig who asked Richard to show him and the two of them left.

  “Well, now what?” Terry asked the group.

  Mr. Jameson turned to Terry, “Excuse me?”

  “I said, ‘now what’?” He pointed to the caskets, “Looks like you have some people on ice,” he jerked a thumb behind him, “the US Navy behind us.” Terry shrugged, “Seems to me you need to make some quick decisions here buddy.”

  “Wait, why?” Mr. Jameson asked.

  “Terry?” Robert called, “Stepping out for a moment,” Terry nodded his head, but not paying much attention to his friend as he tried to get the businessman to focus.

  “Because, Mr. Jameson,” Terry explained, “If you don’t get some adequate political cover here, the U.S. Navy is going to sweep in, and I guarantee you they won’t be bothered by,” he pointed to the metal coffin looking devices, “anybody that’s in those things right there.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Chapter 23

  Inside Base, Antarctica

  Terry was getting frustrated, “Mr. Jameson. I’m not here to fight the US Navy and a bunch of Marines. One, that’s my country no matter how much I’m paid, and the second is are you nucking futs?” Terry almost screamed the last phrase, “Which part of U.S. MARINES didn’t you understand?”

  “Terry!” Robert called out as he reentered the room.

  “What?” Terry turned, exasperated.

  “We got problems.”

  “I know that!” Terry bitched, “Mr. Jameson needs to make a call and get the German Government to call off the U.S. Navy, or we are going to have visitors calling of the pissed off but carrying guns variety!”

  “Bigger problems, Terry,” Robert said, even toned as he came up to the group.

  “Oh shit,” Craig spoke from the doorway as he and Richard came back in the back rooms. “Did you say we have bigger problems?”

  “Yeah,” Robert said.

  “Itchy-bitchy ones?” Craig asked and saw Robert’s sharp nod of agreement.

  Terry stared at his friend, “Oooh…shit.”

  “Wait, what ‘oh shit’?” Melissa spoke up. “We have your aces-in-the-hole right there and there!” She practically screeched, pointed at Samual and Richard who looked to each other and shrugged their shoulders.

  “We can take out some Marines, but I’m not giving us good odds on more than fifty,” Samual said.

  “We have the door, perhaps we block the room and switch the other five red buttons?” Richard asked.

  “No!” Terry turned around, “I don’t want to fight the U.S. Marines.”

  “Good, cause bullets sting like a bitch,” Samual admitted.

  Robert, Terry, and Craig turned to look at Samual, their mouths open and all shook their heads and got back to their own conversation.

  “Ok, out with it Robert,” Terry said.

  “The Navy is under attack,” Robert told him.

  “What? Who?” Terry asked, confusion wrinkling his brow.

  “Aliens, Nazi’s, UFO’s, TQB?” Robert finished.

  “It’s not Nazi’s, they are all frozen popsicles,” Craig commented as he pointed to the metal boxes behind him.

  “It’s not TQB,” Terry said.

  “How do you know that?” Mr. Jameson asked.

  “Let me get back with you on that one,” Terry told the man.

  “That leaves Aliens and UFO’s,” Robert told him.

  “None of your people know about this?” Terry asked, and Robert shook his head. “Nothing anyone has shared with me.”

  Terry followed up his question, “Are they shooting at the Navy?”

  “Not yet, not that I know,” Robert answered.

  “Dammit!” Terry turned around. “Well, shit. Mr. Jameson, new question here.”

  “What now?” the man asked, trying to understand the new parameters.

  “We have a foreign group, unknown whether it is domestic or alien, and I mean ‘alien alien’ not foreigners harassing the Navy. They aren’t from this group, because we have a bunch of Nazi popsicles at best. I didn’t want to believe it, but these are probably not true Nazis. These people are the Thule society I’d guess. They were used by the Nazi’s, and I’d guess they struck a deal. They gave technology guidance to those in power in exchange for this base is my shot in the dark but at the moment a likely one. We have another group of flying saucers out there who are pushing away the Navy because THEY want what is in here,” he finished while pointing a finger down to the floor.

  “Why are we concerned about the second group?” Mr. Jameson asked.

  “Because,” Robert interrupted, “They aren’t worried about three warships right now. That means their stuff is pretty damned advanced and we aren’t going to have shit we can do against them.”

  “Options?” Mr. Jameson asked.

  “First, call the German government but they aren’t anywhere close, so I’m saying that is a no go. Next, get our supplies, close the door, hunker down and hope there is a back door and a ride out of here.” Terry offered.

  “That seems like a good way to need to get into one of these ourselves,” Mr. Jameson answered as he nodded to the metal boxes.

  “Agreed. So, next choice is we close the door, get on our snowmobiles and drive like a banshee back to the Adler if possible. Basically, run like crazy and hope no one sees us,” Terry added. “And pray we don’t freeze.”

  “What about these people,” Melissa broke in, “If we run, what happens to them?”

  “They stay popsicles until whoever wins outside comes here. If it is the US, they will probably figure out a way to thaw them out,” Terry answered and noticed Robert’s very slight head shake, “I guess. Then again, they might leave them in the boxes and take everything out of here.”

  “What?” Mr. Jameson asked surprised, “They would leave them?”

  “I have no idea, Mr. Jameson. I would hope
they wouldn’t. I bet you no one except you guys in Germany truly expected to find anything here. I didn’t, and I’m in this group.”

  “Do we have any other options?” Mr. Jameson answered.

  “Yes, but you aren’t going to like it,” Terry replied.

  “Here we go,” Craig said and got Melissa’s attention and told her, “It’s the Terry pulls something out of his ass time,” Melissa smirked and nodded her understanding.

  —

  “Are you telling me,” Mr. Jameson asked, his speech slow as he thought about what Terry just told him. “That you can call TQB and get their help here?”

  So far, the unveiling that he could get TQB’s help had gone over better than he had expected.

  “Are you a plant for TQB?” Dr. Tooch asked.

  Well, until now, Terry thought.

  “No, but they do help me from time to time,” Terry admitted.

  “Why?” Melissa asked.

  He turned to her, “Because the stuff everyone is looking for can be dangerous and those looking for it need to be watched.” He nodded to the caskets, “because some people will look at all of this and see technology, not people.”

  “And what will TQB do?” she asked.

  “The Queen,” Richard interrupted, “Will protect the people here first. Waking them and finding what needs to happen.”

  “How is she going to do that?” Mr. Jameson asked, “The U.S. Navy or the flying U.F.O.’s out there are going to be knocking on the damn door pretty fast here.”

  “If the Queen tells Richard and me to hold this door for her until she comes, we will hold this damn door for her until she comes,” Samual told him, finality in his voice.

  Robert and Craig shivered, thinking back to the El Diablo incident.

  Mr. Jameson turned, “We aren’t going to get access to this technology, Dr. Tooch.”

  Samual spoke, “Don’t think she wouldn’t allow a few people the chance to be here and observe. Ask her permission, she would likely do it for you as the ones who found it.”

  “What about the technology?” Mr. Jameson asked.

  Samual spread his arms out, “I’m sorry, but I do not have an answer for that. I can tell you she is fair, but if she determines the technology should not be shared, it will not be shared except for what you can learn while you observe.”

  “How come when you say observe, I really hear watch and keep my mouth shut?” Dr. Tooch asked.

  “Because you are a wise man,” Samual told him, “and have learned that there is a season for everything.”

  A loud buzz occurred, and Robert looked down, “I set out signal extenders on my way back.” He pulled up his small table, “Oh… crap. The Navy apparently felt threatened, and they have opened up with R2-D2’s.”

  “With what?” Melissa spoke up, confused.

  “Sorry,” Robert said, “the Phalanx close-in weapon system. It’s a 20mm radar-guided Gatling gun with a dome on the top that looks like,” Robert stopped when Melissa interrupted.

  “R2-D2, got it,” she finished, and he nodded.

  Robert’s tablet buzzed again, “the U.F.O.s are firing back,” he told the group.

  “We don’t have anything that can challenge something that can fight the US Navy. Call your contact, see if they can do anything,” Mr. Jameson commanded.

  Terry nodded and started jogging out of the room, “Where are you going?” Mr. Jameson called out.

  “One bar on his repeaters!” Terry answered over his shoulder, “Got to get a little further outside.”

  Once he got out of the room, he grabbed a second tablet, one that didn’t need any signal because it didn’t use normal cell technology.

  —

  Dan was sitting at his desk, reviewing the plans for the new battle station, the teams had brought to him when his tablet pinged. He looked over and then grabbed it, “Dan here.”

  “It’s me, sensei,” Terry’s voice came in loud and clear.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Would you believe we found an old base, full of frozen Nazi popsicles or maybe people who were in contact with aliens back in the forties who have advanced technology? At the same time, we have three US Navy ships being fired upon by four UFO’s with advanced technology outside right now that probably want this shit, too.”

  “Did you say Nazi popsicles?” Dan asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Are they alive?” he pressed.

  “No idea. None of the lights look like they are burned out and frankly, we aren’t sure if they are Nazi’s or simply Germans from that era.”

  “And UFO’s fighting US Navy outside?”

  “Yes.”

  “How the hell do you get into this shit, Terry?” Dan asked as he was typing commands into the tablet.

  “You know me, Dan, I’m just trying to survive in a cruel world.”

  “Right, like the time we pulled your ass out of the whorehouse in Africa with the Forsaken,” Dan responded, answering the questions coming up in his text.

  “Where do you think I learned it was a cruel world?” Terry replied, “Surrounded by all of that flesh and figuring out that ‘bite me’ wasn’t at all what I thought it was.”

  Dan chuckled.

  The lights in Dan’s office started strobing red. He could hear the commands being issued in the halls outside of his office, ArchAngel keeping the commands from flooding his offices. She was smart that way.

  “Ok, looks like you will have an ETA in seven minutes.”

  “You guys are close?”

  “Who, us? No, we aren’t close at all. We are already heading that direction, but it will be hours before we get back to Earth’s orbit. The Queen is going to be there with something…else.”

  “Seven minutes?”

  “That’s right,” Dan confirmed.

  “I hope the Navy has seven minutes,” Terry admitted.

  “Me too,” Dan agreed.

  —

  “We have Phalanx attacks, we have Phalanx attacks,” Antony told his three team members, “Next time Tyler, don’t put a high-velocity round so close to a Navy ship, they don’t like that shit at all.”

  “Wow, I figured they would realize it was a warning shot,” Tyler admitted.

  Evert said over the communications, “And how are we supposed to tell them that? We can’t do video or the whole Alien gig is up.”

  “What about pretending we are TQB?” Spencer asked.

  “Let’s let them assume that,” Antony replied, “Do you know what TQB clothes look like?”

  “Nothing like what we have on, I imagine,” Spencer agreed.

  “Keep dodging, people,” Antony ordered.

  Kavala, Greece

  Deith Ouzo was tired.

  He had been playing soccer back at the new field where the old warehouse had been. It had been torn down so the land would be worth more for someone else to purchase and build a newer building on top of it.

  Unfortunately for the developer, Greece was going through some tough times and here in Kavala, not much was going on.

  So far, it had worked out well for him and his friends. Now, on weekends and after school, he and another ten to fifteen guys all made it over there to play. A couple of the welders from the area had helped them put together a few of the pipes lying about, and they now played with makeshift goals.

  Day done, his team had won two to one. He was walking back home, taking a shortcut through the warehouse area.

  That’s when his life changed.

  He was daydreaming, kicking the ball as he was walking down the dirt path when a screaming siren started up behind him. He grabbed his ball and turned around as one of the super large warehouse's doors began to open. He could see that there was some sort of flashing red lights happening inside the building. The red lights would rotate on the inside walls and occasionally flash out.

  There wasn’t anything close to the warehouses, which was strange. Usually, these types of buildings were packed together.
<
br />   Then, he dropped the ball, forgotten, his mouth open.

  —

  “MOVE IT!” Marcus yelled, “We have a rush exit, rush exit!” Marcus was waving his tablet, “Get on the ship or disappear, and for God’s sake, make sure the Queen’s receiving room is fucking clear!”