by Simon Rosser
“Right, my men will be driving your vehicles and equipment out of here and back to Alpha Base, where a military unit will meet us and take you back down into Shasta for debriefing. Do you understand?”
Armstrong nodded. “Come on, guys, let’s do as the general asks,” he said, winking at Alicia.
The general eyed them cautiously as they each got into the Humvee. As Armstrong pulled himself in, he noticed a flash of light deep in the pine forest. The sun’s fading rays glinting off something shiny, he wondered, or were his eyes playing tricks on him? He was exhausted after all. He sat down next to Alicia and felt a jolt as the Humvee jerked out of a rut it had been parked in, and turned in a wide arc in the clearing to head back down the mountain track they’d travelled up earlier.
“You okay?” Armstrong asked Alicia, over the growl of the Humvee’s powerful V8 diesel engine as it negotiated the narrow track out of the clearing.
“Yes, boss,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Wasn’t banking on this shit though,” she added.
“Me neither. I’m really sorry. We’ve enough incredible footage to cobble together an amazing documentary though.”
“What if they confiscate our equipment? They’re bound to after all.”
“Don’t worry, it’s secure and already downloaded,” Armstrong said, winking, just as the Humvee hit another rut, jostling them all in their seats. John and Doug were seated opposite and looked scared. They’d not said much since the military unit had emerged from the forest. “Don’t worry boys. We’ll be okay. They can’t do much to us. We’ll be on a flight back to the U.K. before you can say Yeti,” Armstrong said, trying to make light of their situation.
“Ha, bloody ha,” John replied, forcing a smile.
“Assholes,” Arran muttered.
Armstrong looked out the small window into the darkening woods, wondering where Tom and the others were. Had they found the cavern shown on the map? As he looked into the forest, he thought he saw some movement, and caught a glimpse of a flash of light again. What the hell was it?
“Did you just see that?” he asked Alicia and the boys. “Outside; I just saw a flash of light. I saw the same thing as I got into the vehicle.”
“No,” Alicia said, craning her neck to look out the window.
The Humvee started to slow down. A crackled voice filtered through from the cabin. “… blocked. Fallen trees, manoeuvring around…”
Armstrong looked at Alicia. “Odd, we didn’t have the same problem on the way up yesterday.”
“Something’s not right, boss, I’m scared,” Alicia whispered.
The Humvee’s engine changed pitch as it carefully turned off the track into the forest, and through a natural clearing in the pine trees, following the vehicle in front.
As they drove into the trees, Armstrong caught a glimpse of the huge Douglas-fir tree blocking the route, with its trunk literally snapped at the base, huge splinters of healthy tree clearly visible.
The lead vehicle drove in a wide arc, passing the fallen tree, before started to turn back towards the dirt track, slowly manoeuvring in between the large pine trees.
“We’re heading back onto the track,” Armstrong said, just as there was a loud crack from outside, followed by a thud as the Humvee in front literally vanished from view.
The vehicle they were travelling in jerked to a halt. “What the fuck?” one of the military guys in the front shouted.
Armstrong leant over Alicia to try to get a better look out the side window, but all he could see was a cloud of dust and the ends of what appeared to be tree trunks jutting out at various angles where the front Humvee had been moments earlier. The route down the mountain where the tree canopy wasn’t so thick was still fairly light, but the forest either side was dark, the sun’s fading rays unable to penetrate it.
“Okay, stay put you lot. We’re going to find out what’s going on,” a voice ordered from the front cabin over the communication system. The two military guys got out, M14 Carbines gripped in their hands, and slowly walked towards where the Humvee had disappeared from sight.
The five of them could just about see what was going on through the side window, the vehicle’s headlights lighting up the forest around them.
The two military men came to a stop, just fifteen feet ahead and appeared to be looking down into some kind of hole that had opened up. Could it be some kind of mud slide, or sink hole? Armstrong wondered. He’d heard a lot about sink holes on the news and was going to do a documentary on them. Holes that just opened up in the ground due to the collapse of the surface layer, swallowing whatever was on top. Buildings and even people’s houses had been gobbled up by them.
Armstrong grabbed his binoculars and raised them to his face to take a closer look. He could instantly tell that this was no sinkhole. There were tree trunks and healthy pine tree branches, clearly recently torn from the surrounding trees, sticking out at various angles from what was clearly some kind of man-made, or at least purposely dug pit, which the Humvee had clearly fallen into.
“It’s a trap. We need to get out of here,” he said, putting the binoculars back in his jacket pocket. “It looks like the Humvee has fallen into a pit.”
“You’re kidding?” Alicia said, her hands shaking.
As Armstrong went to get out, one of the military men appeared at the door. “You stay put. We have an incident up ahead. We need to pass a rope down to our colleagues. Vehicle seems to have fallen into a sink hole,” he growled.
The second military guy walked around to the back of the Humvee and disappeared from view, reappearing thirty seconds later with a thick length of rope over his shoulder. He moved to the front of the Humvee and knelt. Armstrong guessing he must be tethering one end of the rope to the front of the vehicle somewhere. Both men then proceeded back to the pit and threw the other end of the rope in.
Armstrong could see the men looked concerned, scanning the forest, their M14’s levelled, as if ready to engage a target.
Within a minute or so, the four of them watched from the vehicle as the first man emerged from the pit. Armstrong grabbed his binoculars again and could see the man had a nasty and bloodied gash to his head. He was pointing into the forest, and then back down towards the pit. A second man climbed up, collapsing onto the ground as he tried to stand.
Suddenly, a brilliant flash of violet light lit up the dark forest over to their right. And then, as if they were staring in their own science fiction movie, a laser-like strip of light streaked out from the forest where the bright glow had been, striking the four military men who were standing at the edge of the pit. Armstrong and the other three watched in stunned silence as the men briefly glowed a bright purple-violet, before vanishing in a puff of dust, as if they had been vaporised.
“Oh Jesus, what the fuck is going on?” Alicia shrieked.
“Come on; let’s get the hell out of here. Quick, run. Run, back to the campsite,” Armstrong ordered.
CHAPTER 19
S4 GROOM LAKE BASE, AREA 51
Papoose Dry Lake, Nevada, 10 Miles South of Area 51
X40 Launch Control, 11 P.M.
MOONLIGHT BATHED THE mountain range separating Papoose Lake from the Groom Lake test facility in Lincoln County, Nevada. In the northeast corner, close to the base of the mountain ridge, a rattle snake slid out from a desert camouflage screen that was protecting a matt-black, diamond shaped craft. A craft that to anyone who had high enough security clearance to get close to, appeared like a black panther, ready to pounce off the dry lake bed and into the dark night.
Four levels beneath the lake bed, in the joint U.S. Military/NASA ultra-secret SMCC - Space Mission Control Center, NASA Flight Director; Commander Ross Channing, sat transfixed by the bank of monitors in front of him.
“Inertial measurement unit and pre-flight alignments confirmed,” he said, speaking into the console.
T-5 minutes and counting…
The monitor in front of him, and digital clocks fixed to the white wall
s inside the control’s clean room ticked down the launch sequence.
“Commencing transition to X40 on-board computers to launch configuration and starting fuel cell thermal conditioning,” he said, wiping his brow. “Activating the flight recorders, crew members please close and lock visors.”
He was one of only three people overseeing the top secret Moon mission – code-named Odyssey, from the secret, government underground launch base. The other two operatives remained silent, studying their launch computers, checking support systems and telemetry.
“Cross checking GAG’s - Gravity Assist Gel suits. Systems functional and optimal,” he confirmed.
Out on the lake bed, on-board the X40, were astronauts Colonel Bruce Bannister and Commander William Scott, who were seated across from each other in the command module of the sleek, black spacecraft, the most advanced ever built.
“Roger that,” Bannister said, speaking into his space helmet mic, as he simultaneously checked the control panel on the arm of his GAG suit, a state-of-the-art advanced spacesuit that encapsulated the wearer with a special bio-gel to absorb the effects of inertia and gravity experienced during X40 flight.
“Sure is going to be one hell of a ride. Let’s see what this thing can do,” Scott replied, tapping the heat sensitive flight control screen on the control panel in front of him, as a pre-programmed flight plan flashed up in a brilliant blue onto the heads-up display.
“Plasma drive chamber looking good,” Scott confirmed.
“Mag chamber online and good to go,” Bannister said.
“Spy satellite free window is coming up in five seconds. Deuterium and tritium isotopes are fluid. She’s all yours. God speed, and good luck to both of you. We’ll see you back at Papoose at two a.m.,” Channing said.
European, Russian, and Chinese satellite blackout is confirmed for the next four minutes. The X40 is cleared to go,” the operative hunched over the computer bay confirmed.
T – 10 seconds…
“X40 transferring internal power from base to craft. Ground launch sequencer is go for auto sequence start. We are good to go,” Bannister confirmed, checking the green lights strobing on the heads-up display.
“Activate main engine burn-off system. We have main plasma engine start,” Channing confirmed.
Channing’s monitor flashed. T – zero…
With the plasma drive engines glowing bright neon blue, the diamond-shaped craft accelerated along the vast dry lake bed before soaring off at a near vertical climb into the Nevada night sky, and reaching Earth’s escape velocity of 35,505 feet per second, shortly after.
CHAPTER 20
ARMSTRONG, ALICIA, AND the two cameramen ran back up the forest track towards the campsite without looking back. They had no idea what had just happened, and didn’t want to know. Before fleeing, Armstrong had spotted a spare M14 automatic weapon in the front of the Humvee, together with a radio, and had grabbed both.
The four of them reached the clearing after five minutes of running and collapsed onto the grass bank to catch their breath, close to where the fire was still smouldering.
“What the hell just happened, boss?” Alicia asked, as she drew in large gulps of air.
“I’ve no idea. I saw movement in the forest just before the flashes of light, but couldn’t make anything out. It was too dark.”
“You mean lasers. I saw them. They were bloody laser beams!” Doug shouted, his eyes wide with fear.
“That’s what they looked like to me too,” John agreed.
Armstrong shook his head. “None of this makes much sense, we need to get off this damn mountain, but we can’t leave Bruce and the others up here, so this is what we’re going to do –”
Before he could continue, John interrupted him. “Sod that. I’m not staying up here another second. I’m leaving now.”
“I’m with you, John. We didn’t sign up for this shit,” Doug said, looking scared and pissed off.
“Listen guys, I’m feeling the same way, but we need to stick together, and we can’t leave Bruce and the others up here can we?” Alicia pleaded.
“Please, everyone calm down. Alicia’s right, we simply can’t leave the others up here. We don’t know what we’re dealing with. We’re going to have to go into that tunnel to find them. Then all drive back down to Shasta together,” Armstrong ordered.
“I’m not hanging around here any longer. I’m going to take a leak then I’m leaving,” John said.
“I’ll join you.”
John and Doug stood and walked over to where the Mercedes trucks were parked, close to the edge of the forest.
“Assholes,” Alicia said, under her breath.
Although the sun had dropped below the horizon a good while ago, the peak of Mount Shasta, which loomed high above them, was still bathed in an orange glow, looking eerie but beautiful at the same time.
“The mineshaft might be the safest place to be,” Alicia offered, tearing her eyes from the mountain and glancing towards the corrugated shack.
“I think you’re –”
Armstrong was about to reply when a loud crack echoed across the clearing from the edge of the forest, close to where the boys were standing.
As Armstrong and Alicia looked over, a low, guttural Neanderthal growl echoed from the forest, as two ropes, fashioned into lassos, were flung out from the tree line and over the heads and shoulders of the two cameramen.
Still relieving themselves, the boys didn’t have a chance to do anything as the ropes were pulled tight around their torsos and yanked taut, pulling them onto the ground, face down. Before Armstrong and Alicia could stand up, as if dragged by a powerful winch, the two guys disappeared, kicking and screaming in terror into the forest.
“Shit!” Armstrong screamed, grabbing the M14 and running towards the spot where the boys had been dragged in. He couldn’t see a thing, but he unlocked the gun, and fired a few rounds into the treetops. The bullets tore into the pine trees, the noise of the gun drowning out the men’s cries, and echoing up the mountain slopes and into the night sky.
Armstrong and Alicia stood at the edge of the forest, listening to the men’s fading screams as they were dragged deeper into the dark forest.
Alicia grabbed Armstrong and started to shake and cry. “We’re going to die up here.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Armstrong said, still in shock. Surely the Bigfoot or whatever they were couldn’t hunt humans like they were helpless animals? None of this made sense. Who the hell could have done that to the guys and why? Was it the U.S. Military, or the creatures? Not even the M14 he was gripping gave him comfort. They had to leave the clearing and quickly.
“Let’s get the hell out of here. Run for the mine shaft, now!” Armstrong said.
Almost a mile farther along the dark tunnel, Tom, Jessica, and Bruce continued moving forward. The mysterious harpoon-like object was still giving off a slight glow, but it was slowly getting dimmer following the incident ten minutes earlier. They passed an old mining cart lying on its side, the wooden timbers it was constructed from still remarkably well preserved.
“It’s definitely getting lighter,” Jessica said, turning back to look at the old cart.
“I think you’re right,” Tom replied.
They continued for another minute or so in silence.
Suddenly, there was a faint buzzing, and Tom felt his mobile phone vibrate in his pocket. “What the hell? That’s odd, I’ve got a signal,” he said, stopping to yank the smartphone from his front pocket.
He checked the screen; it was a message from Gerry. The text was timed at 8.20 p.m., some ten minutes earlier.
GUYS, I HOPE YOU’RE ALL SAFE UP THERE ON THE MOUNTAIN. JUST TO LET YOU KNOW THE UN GENERAL ASSEMBLY ARE ABOUT TO MEET – 12 A.M. EASTERN TIME - TO DISCUSS THE SIGNAL, WHICH THE PRESS ARE NOW CONFIRMING IS ALIEN IN NATURE. THE SIGNAL APPARENTLY ORIGINATES FROM AN EARTH-LIKE PLANET IN THE CASSIOPEIA CONSTELLATION. THE PRESS ARE STATING THERE IS A COVER-UP OF MASSIVE PROPORTIONS GOING O
N. AS YOU CAN IMAGINE, IT’S GOING NUTS IN WASHINGTON WITH PRESS AND CROWDS GROWING OUTSIDE THE WHITEHOUSE DEMANDING ANSWERS. THERE ARE SIMILAR SCENES OUTSIDE THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT OVER IN THE U.K.
GERRY.
“Jeez,” Bruce whispered, after Tom had read out the message.
“I guess I might be able to get a Wi-Fi signal if your phone works,” kneeling down and unzipped his laptop case and pulling out his computer, he hit the power button.
The laptop glowed white as it powered up. “Amazing, looks like I have an internet signal too, God knows how,” he said, quickly searching for the United Nations homepage.
“Nothing surprises me about this place anymore,” Tom muttered.
“Here we go, I think we can stream the UN meeting live,” he said, turning the laptop around.
Tom and Jessica knelt down to get a better look, as the UN Emergency Meeting started to get underway at the United Nations in New York.
CHAPTER 21
UNITED NATIONS
SECURITY COUNCIL EMERGENCY MEETING
12 A.M. E.S.T.
THE U.N. SECURITY Council were gathering for their 8055th meeting in the Security Council’s Chamber. The council’s fifteen members had primary responsibility, under the UN Charter, for the maintenance of international peace and security, but only five were present for the midnight emergency meeting, called in response to the unfolding situation on Mount Shasta. The representatives present were from The United States, Russian Federation, Great Britain, China, and France.
The representatives were seated along one side of an oval, polished wood-panelled desk, fitted with state-of-the-art communications and computer terminals, which scrolled the translated speeches across each member’s monitor as they spoke. Each country’s national flag hung majestically on the panelled wall behind the respective representative.
