Defiant Order

by Donald B McFarlane

  When the translation was complete, Ranix let a small smile creep onto his face. "Sorry about your vehicle."

  Joe rolled his eyes before smiling back at the alien. "Forget about it." He said.

  Thinking back to the address. "When?" Ranix asked.

  "Probably in a few weeks," Joe replied. "Several factors need to be considered. I need to contact the President and tell him that you are interested." Joe paused and leant forward again. "You're not worried about the Sentinel Commander objecting, are you?" He asked.

  Ranix replied quickly since he knew the answer without needing to think about it. "He will not object. He will point out the risks, but he is smart enough to realise that the long-term success of our two cultures relations is worth that risk."

  Joe smiled. "Excellent. I think this calls for a drink. Do you still have any of that Johnny Walker I gave you?"

  Ranix replied with a confused look on his face. "But it is not even midday." He stated calmly.

  "It's five o'clock somewhere." Joe said with a wide grin.

  33

  By the fifth of November, the landing gear had finally been repaired and lowered into place. It was two weeks until Ranix's address to the United Nations, and Joe was starting to notice a few changes around the crash site, and in the Tohil village. The changes were subtle at first, but members of Joe's SETI team couldn't miss the fact that their access was starting to get more and more restricted.

  At first, they had had unlimited access to Tohil offices and laboratories to allow them to run joint experiments and research, but slowly, this access began to get harder and harder to come by. Once the US military presence in Paraguay had shrunk to just Joe, it became apparent that the influence Tohil was able to exert on the local authorities and their surroundings was increasing exponentially.

  On the morning of the 6th, the Mammoet engineers had released the emergency straps that were still in place on the ship, meaning that the ship was now supported by only the landing gear and the temporary supports, which were being removed that afternoon. Doctor Temple and Joe had just finished a meeting with Ranix and Sulvan and were leaving the ship when Bobby finally mentioned his concern about the developments that they had all seen over the past few days.

  "Joe, I've been having difficulty scheduling satellite time recently." Bobby waved a notepad in the air. "I've got a tonne of notes and material that I'm trying to send back to SETI headquarters, and the idiots from Tohil keep informing me that I'm only limited to ten minutes of satellite time a day and that it can't accumulate."

  "Tell me about it. I've heard the same thing from other members of the team."

  "The what do you think is going on?"

  "Hard to tell. They might be trying to minimise the exposure that our team is getting, try to put a feather in their cap in the public's eye. If the world notices that we're not making all the headlines anymore when it comes to reporting on the crash site, and Tohil takes the lead, it could help people's perception of their legitimacy."

  Bobby thought on that for a moment before responding. "If that's their plan, it could possibly work. If SETI looks unable to keep the scientific data flowing while Tohil continues to do so, it'll make us look obsolete, and open the door for Tohil to take complete control of the research effort."

  Joe shook his head in agreement as they continued to walk away from the ship, and towards the dining facility for lunch. He was just worried that Tohil might be interested in more than just research.

  34

  Major Nikita Pullinski had not heard from Major General Fedoranko in the last three months, giving Nikita the distinct impression that the anti-alien conspirators had been captured or killed. There had been no news from Russia since the end of the coup against the president, and without any follow-on orders from his chain of command, Nikita was to disband his unit by the first of December if no chance was made available to strike at the aliens before then. So when he heard an announcement that the leader of the aliens would be attending a gathering at the United Nations building in a weeks' time on the 19th of November, he knew that it was time to get planning.

  Using one of the disposable mobile phones he had, he called his second and third in command, Captain Mikail Altunin, and Senior Lieutenant Aaron Katz, who had just zeroed their weapons the previous week, and were eager to get this historic mission underway.

  Mikail arrived first on an old Vespa scooter he had found second-hand on Long Island, while Aaron came in a rusty Jeep Wrangler. The pair was expert at fitting into their environment, and in the neighbourhood Nikita had chosen for his base of operations in Nassau County, they looked and sounded like any other adult male of Russian ancestry and upbringing.

  The room that Nikita had chosen as his planning room was meant to be a spare bedroom, and judging by the horrible wallpaper that covered the walls, the previous occupants had not hosted many guests. Standing around a table with a large map of New York City on it, the men looked at their future battlefield.

  Nikita started by giving his impression on the task at hand. "We know a few pieces of information at the moment. Firstly, that the target will be attending a General Assembly meeting at the UN building." Picking up a small red flag that was laying on the table, he precisely jabbed it through the map where the UN building was situated.

  "The next question is, how will they transport him to the building, air or ground?" He looked at his two subordinates.

  "Both are an option, Sir." Replied Makail. "A motorcade or a helicopter are both options."

  "Indeed." Nikita rubbed his chin. "Is there any reason why one of these options might be off the table?" He asked.

  "Weather.” Aaron observed.

  "Precisely." Nikita walked over to a set of charts that he had placed on the wall. "I've been monitoring the weather reports for next week, and they're expecting some heavy wind and rain from this hurricane." Nikita pointed to a one the wall chart in the northern Caribbean. "If this storm continues its track, the least it will do is dump a significant amount of water on the city, and maybe even some gale force winds." He returned to the table. "With that in mind, let us assume that the target will be driven to the UN building. The next question is, from where?"

  Mikail looked at the map for a moment. "They'll want to minimise his time away from his ship, so a flight into New York is the most logical way to do that. That gives us several possible landing points that serve the Greater New York area, but there is one airport that is closest to the UN building." Jabbing his thick forefinger onto the map. "La Guardia."

  The trio leaned down to take a closer look at where the airport was located and simultaneously nodded in agreement. "Captain Altunin is right, Sir. La Guardia is the closest, and it appears to have a straightforward path to the UN building." He said while tracing his finger along the road that would lead from the airport to lower Manhattan.

  "Excellent. We'll need to do some ground reconnaissance." Nikita stood up and looked over the map. "I would like you, Captain Altunin, to take two men, and look for possible ambush points along the route that Aaron just showed us. It is the fastest and most direct option available, and therefore, presents the shortest time that the target will be on the ground, which makes it an obvious selection for the targets protective detail." Crossing his arms, Nikita walked to the wall, where a variety of charts, photographs, and other forms were taped.

  "Senior Lieutenant Katz, I would like you to take Senior Warrant Officer Ratner and Warrant Officer Shapovlov, whom you have not yet met, but are the our demolitions and engineering specialists, and get structural data on the roads that will most likely be used, and find out about any subterranean access points, and any architecture plans that might be available for that area." Nikita stopped himself and looked at his junior most officer. "He who knows the battlefield can own the battlefield."

  "Yes, Sir." The young officer replied, snapping to attention.

  "Men, you have your orders." Nikita picked up two files that were sitting on a table that was pu
shed up against the wall. "Here are the contact details for the other member of the team you should contact for your perspective tasks."

  35

  With less than a week before the visitor speech at the United Nations, Agent Ian Sneed wasn't terribly surprised what the mission was going to be when he was ordered to a classified briefing for an upcoming operation in New York at the Secret Services headquarters in Washington DC. He was less than thrilled to see Special Agent in Charge Ken Benning when he arrived at the briefing.

  "Gentlemen, thank you very much for coming." Ken gave a signal to the back of the room, and the lights were dimmed. "As you know, the principle, Communications Officer Ranix, will be making an address at the UN next Wednesday. We are going to provide the close protection detail for him, with an FBI HRT in support." Ken tapped a few keys on an iPad that was in front of him on the table. "It has been decided that a ground route from La Guardia to the UN building is the best option, following this path."

  An image of New York sprung up on a large screen at the end of the table. The image zoomed into La Guardia, and then a red line traced its way from the Grand Central Parkway, all the way to the UN building on 1st Avenue, following all the major roads that connected the two.

  Ian leant forward and looked down and across the table at Benning. "Isn't this route slightly obvious?" He asked, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

  "Agent Sneed, I'll assure you that because this route is the most direct, that is assuming that a helicopter flight is out of the question due to weather, and being the most direct makes it the quickest, and therefore the safest." Ken's reply wasn't the most reassuring. Many people in the room thought that just because it was the fastest or the easiest, also made it the simplest to predict and plan an ambush on. "I'll also have you know, Agent Sneed, that we have no intelligence to suggest that there is any threat to the principle at this time."

  Ian just nodded his head and leant back into his chair. What a dick, he thought to himself. The rest of the briefing covered the logistics of the operation, and who was going to be involved. The basic outline of the security detail was similar to a US diplomatic overseas convoy, consisting of eight unarmored SUVs, which caught Ian's attention as being slightly out of the ordinary, but Ken reassured him that the additional local police support made the need for armoured vehicles a mute-point. The convoy would have NYPD outriders at the front and rear and would be shadowed by two FBI Blackhawk helicopters, each with two sniper teams on board.

  In total, the Secret Service would have ten agents in the convoy, and one sniper team in each of the helicopters, while the FBI Hostage Rescue Team would have 21 operators in the convoy, and an additional sniper pair in each chopper. All members of the convoy would carry automatic weapons, and the snipers would have high capacity sniper rifles. In all, it was a pretty well-equipped convoy, and that was without even counting the local assets that were on standby in the event of any hostile acts.

  "Gentlemen, I expect that this operation will go off without a hitch. New York is considered a visitor-friendly zone, and worst-case scenario," Ken rubbed his chin and looked at the ceiling. "The worst I see happening is a few rocks thrown at us, or maybe a nasty banner hung up along the route." He looked around the room, gauging consensus. "We've got some walk-through-talk-throughs planned for tomorrow, and then again early next week before we fly to New York." He picked up his iPad and checked his notes. "Any questions?"

  One of the agents in the back of the room raised their hands. "Sir, who's running the HRT guys?"

  "Right," Ken looked back at his iPad. "A Special Agent in Charge Josh Reid." He looked up and scanned the room. "I've never met him myself, but he comes highly recommended. He pulled off that rescue operation in Dallas last year." Everyone in the room nodded. They all remembered an incident where the mayor of Dallas had been held hostage for two days until Reid had jumped down through a skylight in complete darkness on the third morning when it looked like the mayor was about to be killed. Word on the street was the Reid had taken two hits before taking an aimed shot to incapacitate the assailant. The mayor walked away without a scratch.

  As the meeting drew to a close, the men in the room felt comfortable that their plan, plus their training, and the weight of the force that was going to be involved in this operation, would be enough to dissuade even the most insane attempt at attacking the convoy. Little did they know, a sleeper, a Cold War hangover, was still active inside FBI headquarters, and that the Secret Service plan wouldn't stay secret for much longer.

  36

  Sitting up in bed, Rhea ran her right hand through her hair and looked around the room, which was a complete mess. Joe was laying next to her, snoring lightly, wearing only a pair of polka-dot boxers. Reaching down, she ran her right forefinger across Joe's shoulder blades with a gentle touch, bringing a smile to her face, even if she felt a little hung over.

  Swinging her legs off the bed, she got up and grabbed her dressing gown and towel before slipping on her flip-flops before heading out the door towards the ladies room at the end of the hall. A warm shower was just what she needed considering the state she was in. With her hair still a little damp, she walked back down the hallway to her room, not seeing anyone on the way. She wasn't sure what time it was, but she guessed it was still pretty early.

  Entering her room, she thought back to the previous night's frivolities, which brought a wide grin to her face. The SETI team, under the advice of Doctor Jannsen, had stayed up late drinking in order to watch a meteor shower which arrived five hours late but was still spectacular. The only issue was that when the shower came, half the SETI team was already drunk, with the other half not far behind.

  Tossing her dressing gown onto the bed, she quickly dressed, and headed out to breakfast, grabbing her backpack on the way out the door. Breakfast consisted of her usual fresh fruit and yoghurt, and some muesli cereal. After she was finished eating, she enjoyed a black coffee with plenty of sugar while looking over her notes from the previous day. Coffee drained, she stuffed her notes away, and walked out of the still quiet dining hall, and into the glorious November morning.

  The sun was coming up, just starting to climb above the nearby tree line, sending yellow rays of light onto Rhea. Putting on her Dior sunglasses, she looked around at the early morning bustle that was just beginning to bring the little Tohil village to life. With her backpack over her right shoulder, she started the walk towards the ship, which was now almost completely repaired, and standing on its own power after months of being crashed into the South American landscape.

  With every step closer to the ship she took, she realised that the ship was almost fit for service. She remembered Doctor Temple telling her that they were going to start testing the engines on Sunday, which would bring the ship one step closer to being fully operational. It was an exciting prospect to be able to travel in a spacecraft but even more impressive because it was an alien spacecraft.

  As she got closer to the ship, she could see the many Mammoet engineers going about their business disassembling the two giant cranes that had been so critical to the success that they were now experiencing with the repairs to the ship. When Rhea reached the stairs to enter the ship, she noticed that there were very few pallets of LI-2200 remaining to be installed, which was a very encouraging sign.

  The hanger bay, on the other hand, was not looking like the image of order and method, something that Sulvan was a big fan of saying after being given a selection Agatha Christie's Poirot on an iPad by Doctor Beck. With the bulk of the hanger bay taken up by the shuttlecraft, a significant portion was covered in the sections of the hull that had become separated from the ship when it had crashed, making it very cluttered.

  Walking over to a large pile of the twisted wreckage, Rhea bent down and touched the grey coloured material and was surprised by how light, yet sturdy it was. While she was bent down, she caught a large object moving out of the corner of her eye, startling her.

  "Good morning, Doctor Stokes."


  Looking at the large robot as it was moving towards her, she recognised the long stripe running down the machines head before responding. "Good morning, Sentinel Commander. You startled me."

  "Yes. I noticed your heart rate went up, slightly."

  "And how did you know that?" She asked, hands on her hips.

  "It is one of my party tricks, as Major Hunt would say."

  Stokes smiled and looked back down at the material on the floor. "Tell me, how is this material so lightweight?" She knelt back down and ran her hands over the material.

  "That substance is called Litous Fibre. It covers the hull. I am afraid you will have to ask Master Engineer Sulvan about the details since it is not in my purview to discuss these types of issues with humans. I am very sorry, but there are still some classified systems on this ship. That is why we have been very careful to recover all pieces of the ship, Alliance regulations restrict the tech share we are able to have with non-Alliance members, and Litous Fibre is still a restricted material." The giant robot moved over to where Rhea was kneeling and stopped. "I trust you understand."

  Rhea rose to her feet and faced the machine. "Of course. It just seems that you've accessed almost every open source you could find on this planet to learn about our technology and science."

  "And so would you, if you could." The machine gave a barely recognisable nod before moving towards the hanger bay doors, disappearing out of view.

  Left alone in the hangar bay, Stokes shrugged her shoulders, and pulled out a small notepad from her breast pocket and jotted down the name of the material for her records before heading on her way to the medical lab to meet Doctor Prure.

  When she arrived at the medical lab, she found Doctor Prure standing next to one of the labs medical beds, reading from a datapad. "Good morning, Doctor Stokes. Please join me." He waved her over. "I wanted to go over how the moulding tablets you asked about work."