FreeForm: An Alien Invasion Romance Series (FreeForm Series Book 1)

by Orrin Jason Bradford

  "Nothing else is going to happen. Just relax,” Allan said as he rubbed her scalp and she nestled further into his arms.

  Dawn poured the soft drink in the glass of ice then stepped back to review her work. A bowl of chili, a dish of potato chips, a soft drink and a pickle. Anything else? She reached over the counter and pulled off a paper towel and then at the last minute placed a second pickle on the dish. There. Everything was ready for a leisurely afternoon in front of the television.

  Yes, she was definitely getting used to this kind of living. She walked over to the sofa and placed the tray on the coffee table. She flicked the television on with the remote then scanned the stations to see what there was to watch. Mostly pre-game football shows. Boring. An old movie. Unfortunately it was one she'd seen at least four times. A good movie, but not worth watching for a fifth time. She finally settled on a local news show. May as well get caught up with what's happening in the big city, she thought as she took the first mouth full of chili.

  The show was drawing to a close when the newscaster was handed a special report. He studied it for a moment, frowned, then looked back to the camera.

  "I'm afraid the Queen's City crime continues to escalate. Moments ago, the body of Officer Tim MacDonald was found in his patrol car. He was brutally strangled."

  A photo of the unfortunate officer flashed on the screen. Dawn gasped as she recognized the young officer she'd met only a few hours ago. How sad, she thought. He seemed like such a nice fella. The report was short. Details were sketchy. As the news show ended, Dawn felt a hollow emptiness. The warm cozy living room seemed suddenly chilled. She picked up the remote and switched through the channels looking for something to cheer her up. She picked a rerun of Mash but found she couldn't keep her mind on the story. She kept remembering the bright smile of the young man who had tried to help her — who was now lying on some cold slab in the city morgue.

  She shivered despite the warmth of the room. She decided to see if she could find a blanket or quilt to curl up in. Half way to the bedroom, the doorbell rang. Who on earth would be calling on her? Well, no one of course. They'd be calling on Pat, but wouldn't everyone know that Pat was away on leave? Maybe not? Dawn walked over to the front door of the apartment and peered through the peephole. For the second time in less than an hour, she gasped at the face before her. It was the young officer. The one who had supposedly been killed.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a mistake. They must have reported on the wrong officer. True, someone was lying down there in the morgue but at least it wasn't her young man.

  She unlocked the door and flung it open. "Am I ever glad to see you." The officer smiled with a confused twist to it. "According to the news report, you're supposed to be dead." Dawn stepped back to give him room to enter.

  The officer's eyes darted around the room, taking in everything in one quick moment. Stepping into the room, he closed the door behind him. "Well, you know you can't believe everything you see on TV these days."

  "What do you say after I take a shower we go down and get our free breakfast?" Pat asked as her shoulder muscles finally began to relax under Allan's talented fingers.

  "Sounds good to me. I think I'm going to be lazy for a little longer while you take a shower, then I want to call Dawn before we go out."

  Pat stood up and walked into the bathroom. In a few minutes, Allan heard the sound of the shower water beating against the sides of the fiberglass tub. He closed his eyes and tried to relax his own tense muscles. It was still a little hard for him to believe everything that had happened. What in the world was he doing here in Greensboro, anyway?

  Why, I'm on the way to Washington, D.C. to stop a mad alien from taking over the world. He answered his own question. Were the two of them crazy? Had he simply gone off the deep end a few months ago from too much stress in the practice or from too much grief? Maybe they were just two nut cases like you read about in the paper all the time, living in their own world of delusion? Maybe Homlin was just an ordinary scientist trying to get his discovery accepted.

  He could just see the D.C. paper now. "Attempted Assassination of Famous Scientist Thwarted." And the sub-heading, "Both Assassins Shot."

  Well, if so, the die was cast. He wasn't going to stop now. It had all really happened, was still happening. Homlin was an alien and he was out to overthrow the world. There was a plant a few hours from here filled with thousands of alien life forms waiting for distribution. It all had to be stopped.

  Allan opened his eyes and reached for the phone as he heard Pat cut off the water in the other room. He read the instructions on how to get an outside line. In a few moments, he was dialing Pat's apartment number. He was surprised when, after the fourth ring, Pat's answering machine picked up. Where was Dawn? Wasn't she supposed to be at Pat's apartment all morning? She should be back from her trip to Pat's office.

  He waited for the end of the message. "Hello, uh, Pat ..." He'd almost asked for Dawn, instead. "This is Dr. Pritchard. I'm sorry I missed you. When you get in please call me at this number." He glanced at the number on the phone, but before he could give the number, he heard Dawn's voice.

  "Hello, don't hang up. Wait just a minute." There was a pause on the other end. "Hello..."

  "Dawn, is that you? This is Dr. Pritchard."

  "Oh, I'm sorry. I must have dozed off on the sofa."

  "Are you okay? You sound a little funny." Allan said, uncertain what he was picking up that sounded strange.

  "No, everything is fine here. I'm just a little drowsy. It's been a lazy morning. Where are you?"

  "Pat and I are at the Airport Marriott in Greensboro. We're getting ready to fly to Washington, D.C. for some important business. I'm calling to let you know we're fine and that we want you to stay in Charlotte for a couple more days. Is that okay?”

  "Sure, no problem. I'm having fun. Do you want me to continue to pose as Pat?"

  "Yes, including going into her office each day for at least a couple of hours. We want to be sure it looks like you're down there for business reasons."

  "No problem. When will you be in Washington?"

  Allan glanced down at the pad of paper where Pat had jotted down the time and gate number of the new flight. "We're scheduled to leave at 1:45. I don't know the arrival time. It's a new flight. Our original one was cancelled."

  "Well, don't worry about anything down here. I'm enjoying being a big city private eye."

  "Just be careful, Dawn. The people that are following you are not to be taken for granted. I'm sorry I had to get you into this mess in the first place. I couldn't stand it if anything happened to you."

  "Don't worry, Allan, nothing is going to happen. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. You go and do what you have to. Don't worry about me."

  Allan continued to hold the phone against his ear, but he couldn't get any words out of his mouth. Something was wrong here. Something was terribly wrong, he just knew it. In the seven years he'd known Dawn, she had never once, no matter what the circumstances, called him by his first name. It had become one of their common jokes. To Dawn, he would always be Dr. Pritchard. Who was he really talking to?

  "Listen, I need for you to do one more thing." He finally managed to get the words out. "Call Marva in the morning and tell her that Mrs. McGee's schnauzer can go home in the afternoon. Will you do that?"

  "Sure, I'd be happy to."

  There was no doubt about it. This wasn't Dawn he was speaking with. The real Dawn knew perfectly well that they had put Mrs. McGee's schnauzer to sleep on Thursday. It had been very upsetting to Dawn to have to hold the old dog. He had been one of their longest standing patients and one of Dawn's favorite. Mr. McGee had picked up the body that afternoon for a back yard burial.

  Allan hung up the phone but continued to sit on the bed staring at the receiver. Something had happened in Charlotte. Dawn was in trouble. For all he knew, she might be dead by now. There appeared little doubt that their little switch had been discov
ered.

  Damn, I’ve just told somebody other than Dawn what our plans are, he thought. I’ve played right into their hand.

  Pat walked out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her slender form. With a second towel she was drying her hair.

  "Did you reach Dawn?" She asked as she walked over to the chest of drawers where they'd stacked their suitcases.

  Allan didn't answer at once; his mind seemed unable to catch up with what had just happened. He finally wrestled his eyes away from the phone and stood up.

  "Yes, no... I mean, I reached your apartment but whoever I talked to wasn't Dawn."

  Pat stopped rubbing her hair in mid-stride. "What do you mean? Is something wrong?"

  "It wasn't Dawn. It sounded like Dawn down to almost every detail -- except one." He repeated the conversation he'd just had.

  "Are you sure? You couldn't have been mistaken? Maybe she was trying to make you feel more at ease or something."

  "Dawn hasn't been able to call me by my first name in casual conversation in all the years we've known each other. It's been a standing joke with us. But, let's just say that she did — just this once. There's no way she wouldn't have known that Mrs. McGee wasn't going to pick up her dog. No way. I tell you, whoever I talked to wasn't Dawn, but they sure wanted me to think they were. They've gotten her. That's all there is to it, and what's worse I didn't know it until I had already told them where we were headed."

  “Shit.” Pat said as she sat on the bed and absentmindedly toweled her hair again. After a moment she said, "Well, let's see. This is what we'll have to do. We'll have to split up. You head down to Charlotte and I'll head to Washington."

  "But they know you're coming."

  "Yeah, so what? Let them know. I'm still going. I have to go. They've got to be stopped, and you've got to go see if you can help Dawn. I feel awful for getting her caught up in this, I really do. I'll notify Allison that you're on the way and have her stake out my place. She's good, Allan. If anyone can get Dawn out of there alive, Allison can."

  That is, if she’s still alive, Allan thought but what was the point in saying the obvious.

  Pat continued to sit on the bed for a few minutes as she continued to dry her head. Finally she stood up and headed for the bathroom. "It's getting sticky, no question about it. We're going to have to dig deep to pull this one out. So, I guess that's just what we'll have to do."

  Homlin picked up the phone on the second ring. Alex quickly explained his short conversation with Allan.

  "So they've found out about the meeting and they're coming to stop it,” Homlin said with a chuckle. “Okay. We'll have to be on the lookout for them. Let's see." He paused for a moment. Alex waited patiently for his orders. "Here's what I want you to do. What time did you say their plane was leaving?"

  “1:45,” Alex answered.

  "Great. I want you on that flight with them. It's our best chance to pick up the trail again. Who do you have down there with you?"

  “Julian,” Alex winced. He knew Homlin's opinion of Julian wasn't good. It was also an opinion that Alex shared. Julian was somewhat of a fuck-up, but surely he could watch one small, tied-up woman without blowing it.

  “Okay. That's just the way it is, I guess. I'll see if we have someone at the lab that can drive down and be with him. Anyway, leave him there to look after our little imposter and you find Vogt and Pritchard. Don't do anything but follow them. When they check into a hotel, you do the same and call me from there. Is that clear?"

  "Very clear,” Alex replied. Within a couple of hours, he'd be back on the trail of that bitch. It is only a matter of time before Homlin gives me instructions to kill both of them. "I'll call you from Washington."

  Dawn's Dilemma

  Monday, 12:28 pm Dec. 6

  Allan pulled the Blazer to the curb and turned off the engine. He stepped out of the car, pulling the collar of his jacket up to help shelter himself from the wind. He walked down the street towards the address Pat had given him, leaning into the blustery wind. It was getting colder with each day. For the South it was just the beginning of winter — Allan's least favorite season. Every year he thought it would be okay with him if fall simply continued until spring and then spring could simply continue until fall again. In a perfect world you only really needed two seasons. And in a perfect world, there weren't monsters or aliens or even bad guys who abducted gentle ladies like Dawn.

  After walking a couple of blocks, he saw the sky blue sedan that Pat had described to him exactly where she said it would be. He walked towards it and climbed into the passenger seat and found himself staring at the large black hole of a large gun being held in the small hand of an attractive young woman.

  "Are you Allan?" The woman asked and without thinking, he almost said yes. Then he remembered what he was to say to the question.

  "No, I'm Dr. Pritchard,” he said, trying to force a smile without much success.

  “Good.” The woman lowered the revolver and stuck it back in her shoulder harness. "I'm Allison. Pat has told me so much about you, but she didn't tell me how cute you were."

  This time Allan smiled more successfully. "It's a pleasure, Allison. I only wish it had been under different circumstances."

  "You can say that again. I was so shocked to hear that Dawn had been kidnapped. It was only a few hours ago when I spoke to her on the phone. She was worried because she'd become lost."

  "Oh boy! That must have been the giveaway. They must have suspected something right then."

  "Pat didn't have much time to explain what was going on. She had to catch her flight. She told me you would fill me in on what I needed to know."

  Allan nodded. Pat and he had sorted out how much they could tell Allison. Even though Pat trusted Allison completely, Pat still wasn't anxious to let anyone know what was going on so they had decided on giving Allison a partial story.

  "A gang of thugs were following Dawn thinking she was Pat. It was the only way we could get Pat clear of them so she could work on finding their ringleader. That's what she's doing in Washington. Unfortunately, they've discovered the switch."

  "I'm only going to ask one question. Is this about the case Pat's been working on for ten years?"

  It took Allan a second to understand Allison's question then he answered, "Yes, it is."

  "Say no more. No one has ever understood what the case was about, but all of us have seen how consumed Pat has been with it. If there's anything I can do to help resolve it for her, I'll do it, no questions asked. So, let's get to work."

  Allan smiled. For some reason he wasn't surprised to find that Pat had a loyal staff. Still, it was refreshing.

  “Okay, what's been happening in there?"

  "Not much. I've seen one man leave and go down the street. I didn't follow him for fear they might slip Dawn out while I was gone. He came back with a bag of groceries. It would suggest to me that there are at least two people holding her."

  “Okay, good. Have you seen any sign of Dawn?"

  "No, 'fraid not."

  Allan pondered the situation for a moment. He'd had his mind on nothing else for the entire two hours of the trip. He still hadn't come up with a good plan for getting Dawn out safely. For that matter, he didn't know if she was still alive, but the fact that the thugs were still around and shopping for groceries gave him hope.

  "Well, Allison, I'm far from an expert in matters of this kind. About as close to the criminal world as I've ever gotten was giving first aid to a stranger for a dog bite. I didn't find out until later that he'd received the bite while breaking into a house. He convinced me he came to a vet because he figured that was where people that had been bitten by an animal went. It sounded plausible to me. Anyway, I'm open to suggestions."

  Allison nodded and pulled her key out of the ignition.

  "After speaking with Pat, I called Frank and Cindy. They're a husband and wife team. They don't actually work for Pat, except for an occasional contract, but they're always willing to lend a han
d. They are on the other side of the building, watching the back. In a situation like this, surprise is the only thing we have on our side. If I understood Pat correctly, the men inside aren't aware they gave themselves away to you. Is that correct?"

  "Yes, I'd say so. I wasn't even sure until I had hung up and thought about it."

  "So, I doubt they'll be suspecting us to suddenly show up on their doorstep. The fact that one of them went out for groceries would suggest this is true as well. About the only thing I know to do is to go in quickly and in force."

  Allan thought about it for a moment. As he worked to come up with a plan, he stared out the window of the sedan. There wasn't much foot traffic on this blustery Sunday afternoon. Just an old fella in a worn out army jacket, his shoulders hunched over, hands dug deeply into the pockets of the jacket.

  He reminds me of old Mr. Sorenson, Allan thought. Sorenson had been Allan's gruff yet soft landlord for three of his four years in vet school. In the three years, Allan could only remember a couple of occasions when he'd seen Sorenson without a similar army jacket. A thought suddenly came to Allan and he leaped out of the car after the bum, unzipping his own down-lined ski jacket as he ran after him.

  Pat leaned over the back seat and paid the taxi driver.

  "Keep the change,” she said without realizing she'd just tipped him almost half of the fare. Her mind was on other matters.

  "Gee, thanks lady." The cabby jumped out to open her door.

  As Pat climbed out of the back seat she had an almost irresistible urge to glance over her shoulder, but she resisted the temptation. It wasn't really necessary. She knew what she'd see, either the dark blue sedan or the black one. They'd become more careful with the tag, using two cars instead of one, but they had still been easy to spot by a professional who knew what to look for.

  The cabbie ran around to the rear of his car and pulled Pat's suitcase out of the trunk.