“Let us hope they keep their noses out of our business from now on,” added Diane.
“If there is nothing new to pass on, I must be going,” said the Arabic man. “I have my granddaughter’s birthday to attend.”
“No, Hamid, I do not believe there is anything left to discuss,” said Roth.
One by one, Roth’s fellow conspirators left the screen. He reached for his whiskey glass and finished what was left in it before standing and stretching his hands over his head. He was tired. Perhaps Maksim was right; tomorrow was another day, and maybe with the light of a new dawn, his luck would change. If not tomorrow, then in a few days’ time.
Chapter 10
Peterson Air Force Base
With a loud annoying buzz, David Grant’s cell phone sprang to life. To him, it sounded like a swarm of bees trying to escape from the confines of his cellphone. He rolled over, opened his tired eyes, saw it was a call from Project Gauntlet’s operations center, and answered it.
“Grant, here.” His mouth felt as dry as the Mojave Desert. After a night of far too many drinks, while watching a World Cup soccer game with Maclean, he was in no mood to be woken from his slumber.
“Sir, it’s Staff Sergeant Vega. Sorry for waking you, but you and Mister Maclean are to report immediately to the duty center.”
Grant shook his groggy head, trying to recall what Vega looked like. “Why? What’s up?”
“I’m not at liberty to say. Colonel Andrews will brief you personally when you arrive here. A vehicle has been dispatched to pick you both up.”
“Okay, see you in a few minutes.” Grant ended the call, flicked on the light on his nightstand. Right away, his eyes felt as if they were on fire. With his head pounding away like a jackhammer, Grant took some headache pills and drank down a full glass of water, before walking across the hall and banging on Maclean’s door.
“I’m up already!” yelled Maclean. “They phoned me, too.”
“Sorry. Just making sure.” Grant turned about and went in search of some clean clothes to wear.
A couple of minutes later, a nondescript van pulled up outside the building. The driver handed the two men a couple of cups of coffee. “I was told to bring these with me,” said the young airman.
“Someone’s a lifesaver,” mumbled Maclean as he grabbed ahold of a cup.
“Captain Jones is the duty officer tonight,” said the airman. “She thought you could use them.”
Both men slid into the back of the van for the short drive to the ops center. It had been eight days since they had arrived at the base. So far, their attempts to discover where the disc had gone after it was loaded onto the An-12 in Iran had gone nowhere. Each tentative lead was soon met by a brick wall. It was as if it had vanished off the face of the planet.
The mood in the operations room was tense. Some of the people had rushed in from home, and were dressed in a mix of clothes. All eyes were on a screen of live feed coming from NORAD Headquarters, showing the Alaskan airspace.
Grant spotted Jones and walked to her side. “Thanks for the coffee, Erica.”
“I heard you two talking about having a few beers when you left work, so I thought I’d help ensure you were both alive when the boss gets in,” she replied. Jones was an African-American woman in her mid-twenties with a trim runner’s build.
“Cheers,” said Maclean, toasting Jones with his coffee.
Grant looked up at the screen. “So, what’s going on?”
“At precisely 2338 hours last night, NORAD began tracking what appeared to be an unrecorded meteorite coming through Earth’s atmosphere directly above the North Pole,” she said. “Within minutes, it was over Alaskan airspace and losing altitude fast.”
“So why the three-alarm fire for a meteorite? It’s not going to crash into a city or something, is it?”
“No. However, at 2343 hours, it began to slow down and went down near the town of Robertson’s Mine, Alaska.”
“I’ve never heard of it. Is it a small community?”
Jones nodded. “It’s east of Valdez, near the Canadian border, and is fairly isolated. It has a population of just over six hundred people, most of whom are native Alaskans.”
“If it’s down, why is everyone being recalled back to work?”
Jones brought up the satellite feed from NORAD on her laptop computer. “Here’s the problem.”
Grant leaned forward to study the screen. For one hundred kilometers around the town, there wasn’t single light on. The whole area was pitch black. “Is there something wrong with the feed?”
“I wondered the same thing, so I spoke with the duty officer at NORAD and he assured me in no uncertain words that there is nothing wrong with their satellite. Someone or something caused all the power to turn off in the region around Robertson’s Mine.”
Grant checked his watch. It had been forty-one minutes since the object had gone down. “Could there be something on the meteor that caused this blackout?”
“Not a chance,” said Hayes, as he walked into the room. “If this had happened while the meteor was still in orbit, I would have said maybe, and that’s a big maybe. But the power didn’t turn off until the object was directly over the top of Robertson’s Mine.”
“This sounds too much like what happened to us in Iraq,” said Maclean, shaking his head.
“Yes, it does,” replied Grant.
“Wait, there’s more,” said Jones. “When I was speaking with the duty officer at NORAD, I asked him if they could identify where the meteor went down by its heat signature. Have a guess what he told me?”
Grant shrugged. “I have no idea. What did he tell you?”
“They couldn’t detect a single heat signature inside the blacked-out area. It was as if the satellite was being deliberately jammed.”
“Most interesting,” said Hayes.
Grant raised an eyebrow. “If you say so, Doc.”
“My skin’s crawling,” said Maclean. “Something’s going on up there that ain’t right.”
Andrews walked into the duty center dressed in a pair of old Air Force sweats. “Okay, I’d like the duty officer, Doctors Hayes and Leon, along with Captain Grant and Sergeant Maclean to meet me in the briefing room right away.”
“Why us?” said Maclean to Grant.
“Beats me. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
As Elena Leon lived the farthest from the base, she was the last to arrive. The second she walked in the room, Elena looked over at Jones. Her eyes shone with excitement. “Is it true? Have we just had an NL-CE1 over Alaska?”
“It appears that way, ma’am,” replied the captain.
“Jeez, I thought the Australian Army was bad for acronyms,” said Maclean. “Can someone translate that Air Force gobbledygook for me?”
“NL means nocturnal lights, and CE1 is short for a close encounter of the first kind,” explained Elena.
“That’s great,” said Grant. “But now I’m lost.”
“Captain, when talking about UFOs, there are four different levels of close encounters. The first is a strange object being observed. The second is physical evidence, such as imprints being left on the ground. The third level is a visual sighting of a craft’s occupants, and the fourth, which Professor Hayes says is unfounded, are abductions.”
“And I’d be right to call these alleged abductions pure balderdash,” added Hayes.
“Doctors, thank you for your observations,” said Andrews. His tone told them to let it go for the moment.
The briefing began with a review of what had happened to date by Captain Jones. Andrews thanked her and asked Jones to keep an eye on the situation as it developed, while the remainder of the staff talked in private.
“Okay, folks, half an hour ago I received a call from General McLeod, C-in-C of NORAD, and have been told to put a team together ASAP for an on-site investigation,” said Andrews.
“Sir, with all due respect, an investigation of what?” asked Maclean. “I thought it was
a meteor that crashed near the town.”
“I’ll get to that in a couple of minutes, Captain. The problem is that I don’t have people sitting around here waiting for the phone ring. I think you’ve already noticed that this isn’t a very robust organization. Everyone has a job, and they do it to the best of their capabilities. If the General wants us to put boots on the ground, I’m going to have to make a reconnaissance team based on you four people. If you find something up there, I can ask General McLeod to send some people to secure whatever it is until a retrieval team arrives to take it away.”
“Sir, you’re not coming with us?” asked Hayes.
“No. I’ve been called back to Washington to testify at a closed-door hearing of the Senate Subcommittee on Defense. I have to explain how twelve men died during what should have been a relatively straightforward recovery mission.”
Grant shook his head. “Colonel, can’t General McLeod get you out of this hearing? This really isn’t the best time for you to be away from your people.”
“He tried and failed. I have to go, or we could conceivably lose the funding needed to keep this project running.”
“If you’re not going, who will be in charge of the mission?” asked Hayes, fidgeting back and forth in his chair.
“Captain Grant will be,” replied Andrews.
Hayes frowned at the news. “Sir, please! Captain Grant has only been with us for less than two weeks, and barely knows our operating procedures.”
“Professor Hayes, if you think I’m going to put a civilian in charge of military personnel, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Yes, you are more senior to Captain Grant, as is Doctor Leon, but you don’t think like a soldier does. You tend to be analytical and cautious, whereas Grant, from what I’ve observed, is more than capable of thinking on his two feet when things turn deadly. You’ll be there to give him advice and to help him, should he need it.”
“Colonel, I don’t have a problem working with Captain Grant,” said Elena. “I guess my ego isn’t as large as Jeremy’s.”
Hayes’ face turned beet red. He opened his mouth to say something, but decided to close it instead.
Grant looked over at the tongue-tied Professor. “Doc, trust me, I’d prefer that the colonel led the mission. But as he can’t, I suggest we all try to get along. I have no doubt that I’ll be leaning on you quite heavily for advice.”
“Sir, I’m still at a loss. What exactly do you wish us to do in Alaska?” asked Maclean.
“Your mission is very simple. I want you to discreetly determine what caused the power blackout, and if there is an anomaly there, I want you to locate it until a retrieval team can arrive. That means I want the four of you to gather up what you think you may need right now and depart no later than 0300 hours,” said Andrews. “There’s a plane parked on the airstrip for you to use. Captain Jones will have you driven to the plane when it’s time to leave. The flight to Elmendorf Air Force Base, Alaska, will take about six and a half hours. So get what sleep you can on the plane, as I suspect you’re going to be busy over the next couple of days. From Elmendorf, you’ll be flown to Robertson’s Mine. There’ll be a couple of old government vehicles waiting for you when you get there.”
“I take it we’re going in undercover. So what’s our cover story?” asked Grant.
“Usually, we usually go disguised as members of The North American UFO Investigation Society,” explained Elena.
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“That’s not surprising. It’s not as large as some of the other, better-funded civilian UFO organizations, but we do have people spread all across North America who act as first responders when a suspected UFO sighting has occurred. They travel to the site and interview the people who claim to have seen a UFO. If the sighting is deemed worthy of further investigation, our people let us know and we are brought in to examine the case in greater detail.”
“Who are these people you’re talking about?” asked Maclean.
“They’re all retired military personnel, mostly Canadian and American, who have worked here in the past. They supplement their pensions by continuing to work covertly for us.”
Grant chuckled. “Clever, your people hide in plain sight.”
“How many of these alleged sightings have you had to investigate further?” queried Maclean.
“In the five years I have been with Project Gauntlet I have personally investigated thirteen sightings,” said Elena.
“All of which, I don’t mind telling you, turned out to be misidentifications or outright hoaxes,” said Hayes. “The only unknown vehicle we have not been able to explain adequately was the one found outside of your base in Iraq.”
Andrews looked up at a clock on the wall. “People, you’re wasting valuable time. You can talk all you want on the plane.”
Maclean smiled at Hayes. “So, Professor, what toys do have lying about the base that we could bring with us?”
Chapter 11
The Super Yacht Asteria
Peter Roth leaped out of bed, ran to his computer and turned it on. His heart was racing in his chest. He had just received a secure call from the senior vice-president in charge of his satellite company that there had been an incident in Alaska.
Roth brought up the satellite image of Robertson’s Mine on his computer and smiled. There could only be one reason for the perfectly symmetrical power blackout. He had never dared to dream that one day he might have the chance to get his hands on a functioning craft. Roth had long ago resigned himself to searching the world for the crashed remains of ancient vessels. He reached for his phone and called his brother.
“Yes,” said Max, answering the call.
“Max, I think we may have stumbled onto a working ship,” said Roth. His voice quivered with exhilaration.
“Where?”
“Alaska.”
“When did it arrive?”
“About an hour ago. It looks like it may have crashed on the outskirts of a small town called Robertson’s Mine.”
“Do you want me to investigate this incident?”
“Yes, of course. But be aware that the Americans are undoubtedly going to send some of their people to check this out.”
“Bah, they’re nothing to be worried about.” Max’s tone was dripping with disdain. “I’ll get a team together and head out as soon as I can arrange the flights.”
“I want you to be careful, Max. Use only ex-American Special Forces operators during your preliminary search of the town.”
“Peter, please, as if I hadn’t already thought of that. I know my job.”
“Sorry, it’s just that I want nothing to go awry this time around.”
“It won’t. I’ll send four of my best men to the town while the rest of the team waits for word in Anchorage.”
“Good thinking. If this does turn out to be a real extraterrestrial craft, we could leap hundreds, if not thousands of years, ahead of our competitors.”
“Rules of engagement, brother?”
“If there is a ship, I want it. Kill anyone who gets in your way.”
“Very well, I’ll make my preparations to leave.”
Roth hung up and grinned like a child on Christmas morning. He pushed a button on his desk and waited. A few seconds later a steward opened the door to his cabin.
“Yes, sir?” said the steward.
“I know it’s early, but I feel like celebrating,” said Roth. “Have a bottle of champagne along with some caviar sent up right away.”
“Very good, sir,” said the man.
Roth looked back down at the image on his laptop and let the excitement of the moment, like a warm wave on a sun-drenched beach, wash over him. The risks were astronomically high, but the payoff would be incalculable. Roth walked to the nearest porthole and looked out at the ink-black waters of the Caribbean. When the sun came up in a matter of hours, he knew his life would never be the same again.
Chapter 12
Robertson’s Mine – Alaska
That’s odd, thought Robin Black as she stared at the flashing red light on her bedroom alarm clock. She brought her wristwatch close to her eyes, saw the time, and cursed up a storm as she pulled off her duvet. Black ran a hand through her short, black hair and stood up. She reached for her housecoat and pulled it on overtop of her pajamas. Ginger, her tabby cat, jumped off the bed and followed her down the hallway, until Black stopped outside of her son’s bedroom.
“Hey sleepyhead, wake up,” said Black as she wrapped her knuckles on the door.
“Why? What time is it?” called out a sleepy voice.
“It’s after seven already. The power must have gone out during the night. Get up and meet me downstairs for some breakfast.”
“Okay, Mom,” replied her son, Samuel. He preferred being called Sam and was only referred to as Samuel when he was in big trouble.
Black paid a quick visit to the bathroom before shuffling downstairs to throw a pot of coffee on to brew. At thirty-eight years of age, Robin Black was the recently re-elected Sheriff for the quiet town of Robertson’s Mine. With her deputy away for two weeks on vacation in Hawaii, Black found herself busy looking after the day-to-day affairs of the town’s six-person police force. She was of average height and kept in decent shape by riding her horse when she wasn’t on duty. Black was a native Alaskan, whose husband had died far too young of pancreatic cancer when their son was still a child. She had been in a couple of relationships over the past few years, but had never seriously thought of remarrying. For the time being, her son and her job were the only things that mattered in her life.
Sam walked into the kitchen, scratching his belly. Unlike his mother, he was tall for a boy his age and was already being scouted by several major colleges for a basketball scholarship. He poured himself a bowl of cereal and sat down at the dinner table. “You know, Mom, I think that’s the first time the power has gone out since that really bad storm we had two summers ago.”
“I think you’re right,” said Black, taking a sip of her coffee.
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