by A. D. Winch
This time it was Professor Schwarzkopf’s turn to look Agent Angel right in the face.
“I am not a child, Buddy. I am a highly respected scientist who does not lie, especially when I know that Kurtz would be in your office the moment she got out. I am not stupid. If I said that I didn’t do it then I didn’t do it. I don’t know how it happened, but I can only hypothesise that Jean Kurtz in her usual ineptitude has used the information White King gave us and caused the pod to close. I do know, however, that it will be down to me as always, to rescue her.” He coughed so hard that his mouth filled with metallic-tasting phlegm that he was forced to swallow. “I will send her to your office when I get her out.”
Professor Schwarzkopf shook his head angrily and walked towards the pod. Agent Angel laughed and left.
From inside the pod, Eric watched Buddy Angel go. Once he was gone, Eric waited another two minutes before opening the pod.
The metallic shell peeled back and vanished within itself. Eric jumped out of the pod and landed without a sound beside Professor Schwarzkopf, making him jump.
“That was so cool! You didn’t see me, did you?”
“No, you managed to close the pod just in time.”
Eric was excited, “But when I was inside, I could see you. I watched you walk around the spacecraft. I could see through the wall. It was invisible.”
“This is indeed interesting to me,” whispered Professor Schwarzkopf, “but right now all I want to do is get off this base. In ten minutes, Kurtz could wake up. Once this happens, you and I will soon replace her in that cell. We must go.”
Eric sensed Johan’s fear and immediately followed him out of the lab. Another drone was being tested, and they walked out of the hangar parallel to it. The jet engines were fired and echoed around the vast space. Professor Schwarzkopf had to shout in Eric’s ear in order to be heard.
“We need to get to a jeep. There are always some left around.”
“You couldn’t have claimed one for yourself?” Eric shouted back. “Before you came for me.”
“It is not possible. I would have aroused suspicion as I rarely drive on the base. To be honest, I never thought we would get this far. Don’t worry, we will find one and then we will leave.”
They walked slowly out of the hangar and into the dusk. It was the first time Eric had been outside, since his attempt to escape with Nurse Andi as his hostage. The low sun was warm and beat down onto his body. He felt that he was coming alive again as if he was experiencing a sudden sugar rush.
For a short while, he forgot about the pain in his arm and realised that he was now leading Johan across the rough sand. The drone accelerated away from them, and the smell of aviation fuel reached his nostrils. He didn’t care. He was outside, and that meant the world to him.
A jeep sped past them, kicking up dirt and covering them in a mini sandstorm. The fine dust entered Professor Schwarzkopf’s body and reached his lungs. A violent coughing fit followed, and he had to stop walking. Phlegm filled the back of his throat, and he could taste metal. This time he did not swallow and spat it on the ground. The dirt absorbed the spit, and a red circle appeared. Professor Schwarzkopf did not notice. His eyes were firmly fixed on the army vehicle.
There were no doors and no roof on the jeep. The moment it stopped, the driver jumped out. He took a canister from the passenger seat and approached the mechanics in the hangar. The key was still in the ignition, leaving Professor Schwarzkopf and Eric with the same idea.
Professor Schwarzkopf turned to look at the driver. He was stood beside an Aurora jet helping the mechanics with the contents of the canister. They watched him carefully, but the opportunity was too good to miss. The beauty of the base was that personnel used vehicles as and when they wanted. There was no ownership and taking the vehicle may annoy the driver, but it would not cause them any more unwanted attention.
They could feel the heat from the engine as they approached the jeep. Professor Schwarzkopf waited and continued to watch the driver. It did not appear that he was coming straight back.
In a little over five minutes, Kurtz would probably wake up. There was no need to wait any longer. They had lost enough time already.
“Let’s go!” someone roared.
A few heads turned and watched as a unit of soldiers marched out of the hangar. Their boots echoed around the giant cave, and it sounded like there were far more men in the battalion.
“Let’s go!” repeated Professor Schwarzkopf.
He climbed behind the wheel and turned the key. Eric jumped in beside him, and they drove off.
The jeep pulled onto the runway that led away from the hangar. A line of fine sand, blown into the air by the wheels, followed them. Professor Schwarzkopf drove at the usual speed for the base. He did not want to go to fast, in case they drew attention to themselves.
“No one knows you have escaped. No one knows you are with me. Kurtz won’t wake up for approximately five minutes. Unless she can get that sheet off her, we should have longer. This will give us a head start but only if we can get past the check-point and off the base completely. At the moment, no one suspects anything,” explained Professor Schwarzkopf, trying to reassure himself rather than Eric.
“Don’t be scared,” replied Eric. “Just act normally. What will you say at the check-point?”
Professor Schwarzkopf thought about his escape plan before answering, “Give me your pass. Keep your head down, quietly moan and pretend to cry like a woman.”
“Like this, you mean,” said Eric and managed a passable impression of an upset lady.
“That’s right. The soldiers at the checkpoints have to ask routine questions about us leaving but, unless there is a lock-down, they won’t stop us.”
They drove on. The desert mountains rose up on both sides of the jeep, and Professor Schwarzkopf admired them for, what he hoped, would be the last time.
As they neared the end of the runway, he looked into the rear-view mirror and contemplated all those years he had spent in Roswell either on this secret base or before that, in Hangar 84. He was leaving. Leaving behind his past life but taking with him both good and bad memories. Somewhere, far behind, on Roswell Army Airfield Base, was his former underground lab – the place where today’s events effectively began many years ago. If Ingrid had never set out to destroy his work, he would not be sitting here now.
The jeep drove off the runway and onto a desert road. It wound between the mountains. Professor Schwarzkopf was not the world’s best driver, and he appreciated that there were no other vehicles around. He turned a corner and approached a check-point, manned by two soldiers in desert fatigues.
A dry and branchless tree trunk blocked the road, but they had to slalom through concrete-filled barrels before reaching it. Fortunately, the jeep missed them all and came to an abrupt stop.
Professor Schwarzkopf handed the security passes to one of the soldiers. As he did so, he glanced at his watch. They had about two minutes before Kurtz regained consciousness.
The soldier looked at the passes carefully and handed back Professor Schwarzkopf’s.
“What’s that on your head, Miss Kurtz?” she asked, pointing at the red cushion.
“Classified,” replied Professor Schwarzkopf.
Eric moaned a little and pretended to sob.
“I’ve got to see your face, Miss Kurtz. Can you look at me please, Ma’am?”
“She can’t look up. She can’t move.”
Professor Schwarzkopf tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. The soldier looked across at Eric and tried, unsuccessfully, to see his face.
“Why are you wearing protective clothing?” she asked.
“Classified but I would advise you not to stand too close for too long.”
The soldier stepped back and stood next to her partner.
“Where are you going?”
“Classified.”
The other soldier joined the conversation, “When will you be back?”
“Cl
assified. I can’t believe no-one contacted you about this incident!”
Professor Schwarzkopf stepped out of the jeep and towards the two soldiers. He leaned close to them and whispered, “I don’t mind your questions. That is your job and, if I were you, I would be suspicious too. After all, we are two personnel wearing plastic clothing in a jeep trying to leave the base. We are hardly inconspicuous. My work here is classified, but I can see that this situation looks strange and it is. Let me explain as much I can without incurring Agent Angel’s wrath.
“I work in Bio-Warfare. We had an accident, but it was almost contained. I use the word ‘almost’ as my colleague here inhaled some particles that were not meant for our people. I had to get her out quickly which is why we are still dressed like this. The protective casing over her head is blocking her nasal passage and mouth, thus keeping the pathogens inside her body. She believes that I am taking her for treatment. I am not. I am taking her off the base and to a classified location where she will die within an hour. At this point, I will return but I will be alone. This is all that I can tell you.”
Professor Schwarzkopf coughed and looked alarmed, “Oh, God! Please not me as well.”
He got back into the jeep and added, “If the skin on my face is flaking when I return. Do not let me back on the base. That’s an order!”
The soldier threw back Jean Kurtz’s security pass and her partner opened the road block. Professor Schwarzkopf accelerated and began to laugh nervously. Eric joined him.
Sharp rocky inclines rose up on both sides of them as they drove away. The laughter soon stopped as Professor Schwarzkopf concentrated on keeping the jeep on the road. They reached the foothills, and the inclines were replaced with two rocky banks. Between them, there was a rough track which led away from the jagged mountains.
For half an hour they drove along a long, straight, dirt road. No one had followed them. In the rear-view mirror, there was nothing but a line of dust.
The jeep had almost reached the highway, but a billboard blocked their path. Professor Schwarzkopf knew that the only way past it was to open a secret entrance with a special key. Unfortunately, he didn’t have one.
The banks on either side of the jeep were the same height as a truck. Faced with no other option, he put his foot hard on the accelerator and then swung the jeep away from the dirt track. The bank was steep, but the tyres gripped the tiny, sandy rocks. They rose sharply and looked towards the orange sky as the sun set. Suddenly the vehicle was in the air, and they left their seats. Gravity pulled them back, and the jeep dropped down onto the other side of the bank, bouncing over the small rocks as Professor Schwarzkopf wrestled with the steering. He hit the brakes, and they skidded to a noisy stop behind one of the billboards.
“Are you okay?” Professor Schwarzkopf asked.
He had cracked his forehead against the steering wheel and was bleeding a little. His body felt like it had been thrown down some stairs, and he ached all over.
“I’m too old for this,” he said before Eric could reply, and began to cough.
When he had finished, Eric answered, “I’m fine. Let’s go!”
“I agree, but first we must change out of Kurtz’s monkey suits. I had to wear two sets for the last five days. Waiting for her to deliver the pass so I could see you. I hate them.”
High above their heads, a vulture circled. It was eyeing the movement below and wondering if there would be any pickings. Eric and Professor Schwarzkopf removed their protective clothing and the security passes. Eric hid them behind a scraggly looking bush and got back in the jeep. While he did this, Professor Schwarzkopf checked that the pouch that he had strapped to his chest was still secure and made sure the memory stick was still hanging beside it. He then checked over the jeep until he found the tracking device. A minute later, it was buried in the dirt.
In the back of the jeep, Professor Schwarzkopf found a medical kit. Before they set off, he cleaned and dressed the wound on his head and then handed the kit to Eric.
“Bandage your arm.”
“Sure. And what should I do with this?” Eric asked, pointing to his head.
Professor Schwarzkopf ran his hand over the red cushion and willed it to fall. It did just that, and Eric caught the unique memory foam.
“Please look after it,” said Professor Schwarzkopf and started up the jeep.
The ground behind the cinema screen billboards was bumpy, and Professor Schwarzkopf drove slowly. When he pulled onto the highway, Eric turned to look at them. There were adverts for cigarettes, fuel-guzzling cars and electrical goods which Ursula would say no one needed. However, the three biggest billboards all had similar messages - ‘Visit Roswell,' ‘Come to the capital of UFOs’ and ‘Welcome to Alien Country.’ Eric wondered if they were truer than they first appeared.
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Chapter 21 - Reflections
The highway was almost empty, and the jeep accelerated up to the speed limit. In the distance, they could see tail lights, but most traffic came in the opposite direction as large trucks rattled past. Johan was content. A barren wasteland and the desert surrounded the highway. If anyone followed them, they would be easy to spot. His only worry was if Angel sent out a chopper, but so far the sky was clear. He had to assume that Kurtz had not yet been discovered.
“Where are we going, Johan?” Eric asked.
The old man pointed wearily to the darkening sky; the sun had almost set.
“The sun sets in the west. We are, therefore, travelling south towards Mexico. We will cross the border in about four hours. If we are lucky,” he checked the fuel-gauge, it was almost full.
“Won’t we have our IDs checked? I don’t have a passport.”
“It is the Americans that care about people entering their country. The Mexicans are not known for being as systematic as their neighbours. My experience is that we will just drive through.”
Three and a half hours later, they arrived at the border crossing at El Paso. There were no queues entering Mexico, and they drove straight cross the Bridge of the Americas into the city of Ciudad Juarez. On the Mexican side, a long line of cars waited to cross into the land of the free.
When they drove into Mexico, Johan realised that for the first time in decades he was no longer at the beck and call of someone. He was finally free. A sense of relief, like he had never felt before, brought tears to his eyes that he tried to hide. Eric, on the other hand, made no attempt to disguise his feelings. He could not hide his joy at leaving America behind and punched the air in celebration.
“Where are we going now?” he asked.
“The Central Bus Station. We will eat and then we will leave,” Johan replied. “This is one of the most violent cities in the world. I do not want to stay here longer than we have to.”
The roads were wide with four lanes on each side and cars were few. It was hard to believe that they had crossed the border as so many of the lit signs advertised American products and fast food joints. After nearly four and half hours driving in a roofless jeep, they were both feeling cold and hungry. The idea of sitting down in warm diner or restaurant appealed greatly.
“Do you know where the Bus Station is?” asked Eric.
“I have the map up here,” and Johan pointed to his head.
It wasn’t long before they saw the signs for the Bus Station. Johan parked the jeep on a deserted side street, and they set off on foot. They walked past one-storied houses, each a different colour. Under the dim streetlight, they all looked various shades of orange. Some had windows open, and television programmes could be heard from behind the grills.
These low houses were soon replaced with two-storied buildings and concrete apartment blocks. From a dark alleyway between two of these, a cat ran out in front of them. It was followed by four men in denim jackets, low caps and with bandanas around their mouths. The men did not run, and only one stepped right out into the light. ‘Aztecas’ had been crudely written down the sleeve of his ja
cket. A gun protruded from inside the sleeve, and it was pointed firmly at the two gringos. The man motioned Eric and Johan into the alleyway without saying a word. They did as instructed.
The alleyway smelt of rotting rubbish. It crunched under foot as Johan and Eric inched backwards against an apartment block’s wall.
“It is not safe on the streets at night. Lots of murders, amigos,” the man said, adjusting his cap. “It is your lucky day that we found you. For the contents of your wallet, we will make sure that you stay alive while you visit our beautiful city.”
“We do not have much,” said Johan, putting a veiny hand into a pocket and passing over the few dollars he had.
One of the men snatched them.
“And you?” he said, pointing the gun at Eric.
Eric put both hands in his pockets and stepped towards the man.
“I only have this,” he said.
On the word ‘this,' he pulled both hands out as fast as he could. Before the man threatening them knew what was happening, he was on the ground, and Eric was holding his gun.
A boot slammed into Eric’s hand, but he kept hold of the weapon. It kicked again. This time Eric sent the gun spinning into the rubbish in front of him and grabbed the leg. He twisted it with all his might; sending the gang member into the air. Before he hit the ground, Eric sprang up. He landed with a stamp on the man’s chest. Johan was sure he heard a rib snap. The man wheezed in pain and did not move.
The other two gang members approached Eric carefully. They had drawn long knives that glinted as a car drove down the road past the alleyway. Eric stepped back and made sure he was less than two metres from the wall behind. The men stepped forward, slashing the air with their knives.
“You fight good kid, but now your skin is ours.”
Eric sprang again but this time backwards. His feet hit the wall, and he pushed forward, so it looked as if he had bounced off. He flew towards the men and caught them both by surprise around the neck. His momentum pushed them backwards, and they slammed into the opposite building. One was knocked out cold as his skull crashed against the hard brickwork. Blood immediately dripped from a wound in his head, and he fell lifeless onto the rubbish.
