Engage at Dawn: First Contact

by Edward Hochsmann

  “We don’t have time to build a legend around him, so he goes in clean. The cover is there’s a maritime element that needs Coast Guard involvement.”

  This whole deal put Sam on edge. He wanted to put an end to it, but his thoughts came back to his orders: provide all services he needed as practicable. He knew Ben would have front-loaded any pre-sailing tasks requiring his direct attention, so Simmons’s demand was practicable.

  Despite his misgivings, made worse by the reptilian smile he wanted to wipe off the agent’s face, Sam relented. “Very well. We sail in,” he glanced at his desk clock. “Four and a half hours. I want you both back on board in four. You can take the government vehicle. But Doctor, I don’t like this. If you haven’t picked up on it already, let me speak plainly here. Besides being an indispensable part of this crew, Ben’s a close friend of mine. If anything happens to him because of you, I’m likely to react irrationally.”

  Simmons’ smile faded to a blank expression. “Yes, Captain, I’m familiar with your personal history.”

  Sam’s face darkened. “That will be all, Doctor. I’ll see you here within four hours.”

  Monroe County Sheriff’s Office, 5525 College Road, Key West, Florida

  0828 EST, 15 January

  “Sign here and here,” the bored custody clerk said, pushing the boxes to Simmons after he complied. “I’ll need to watch while you go through them.”

  “Okey-dokey.” Simmons’s alter ego Jim Pearson replied with a soft Georgia accent. He opened the first box and took out an evidence bag holding the remnants of a padlock. After carefully examining it, he turned it over to Ben. “Lookee here, Lootenant,”

  Ben nodded with the sagest expression he could muster. “Hmmm. I believe you’re right.”

  They conducted a similar inspection on the remnants of the deadbolt. The two men then ran through the DVDs containing the security camera footage. In each case, the display dissolved to snow for a period corresponding to the break-ins, a little more than five minutes for the cable theft and just under 18 at the electronics supply store. The picture returned to normal afterward in both videos.

  Simmons signed the custody forms after resealing and replacing the DVDs and returned the boxes to the clerk. “OK, Lootenant,” Simmons said, once they returned to the car. “What did you observe on those locks?”

  “Yeah, they were burned through all right, but not with any torch I’ve seen. Not unless the perps took the time to clean up the carbon scoring afterward.”

  “Spot on.” Simmons nodded. “Interesting work with the security video. No other reports of electromagnetic interference. Now THAT’s high-tech jamming.”

  “Seems like a lot of investment for such a low payback.”

  “Precisely. Very strange.”

  “OK, what now?” Ben started the car.

  “Let’s check out the crime scenes. I’d like to get samples.”

  “Why didn’t you do that inside? The locks would have the same trace.”

  “Naw, I would have created too many questions in there breaking out high-tech gear.”

  “OK, I see. Where first?” Ben asked, shifting into gear.

  ◆◆◆

  The duo spent almost an hour traversing Key West to the two crime scenes. At each place, Simmons took the lead, chatting up the owners and sampling the entry points and select locations there while Ben affected the bored Coast Guard junior officer. After completing the second location, Simmons asked, “Feel like breakfast on me? I haven’t eaten since last night.”

  “There’s a Denny’s on Roosevelt.”

  “Excellent! We should have plenty of time for the best of American fare.”

  “Right,” Ben started the car.

  A short time later at the restaurant, the two men were finishing their coffee, and Simmons gave Ben a hard look. “How much experience have you had with tactical driving?”

  Ben choked on a small mouthful of coffee. “What?”

  “It’s a simple question, have you had any training in tactical driving?”

  “No. Why?”

  “I need to get something together. Did you notice the four-door following us?”

  “No. Since the electronics store?”

  “Since the sheriff’s office, actually. I wasn’t sure at first, but after the power company, I knew for certain. Don’t worry; we will make this work. I need you to walk to the restroom and hang out while I work through the checkout line. When I’m number two in the queue, you step out to the car and bring it up front. Once I get in, just do as you’re told, and we’ll be fine. OK?”

  Ben nodded, stood up, and sauntered to the washroom. After two minutes, he peeked out and saw Simmons stepping into the second position in the checkout line. Ben strode through the restaurant and scanned the parking area while walking to the car in the bright sunlight. Again, nothing stood out, and he wondered if his companion was seeing things. He pulled the car up and parked in front of the restaurant. Half a minute later, Simmons emerged and sat down in the passenger’s seat. Putting on his seatbelt and pulling his sidearm, he said, “OK, let’s move. As you leave the parking lot, take a right on Roosevelt. Nice and easy, just like before.”

  “OK,” Ben nervously glanced at the drawn pistol. After turning on Roosevelt, he noticed another car emerging a discreet distance behind them. “That them?”

  “Yep. Now, bear left and follow Roosevelt. When we make the curve to the right, get in the left turn lane for Overseas Highway, like we are going to continue on U.S. 1. Remember, nice and steady, just like we don’t have a care in the world.”

  Ben complied, rolling to a stop in the turn lane behind two other turning cars.

  “OK, now for the interesting part. When the light changes, creep up, and when you have a clear path, head straight at the intersection and floor it. Start sounding the horn and keep pumping it. You will want to shift right as soon as possible—you’ll be hanging a right on Flagler. You got all that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now take it easy; we will be fine. I want you to slow down before the turn on Flagler; we can’t afford to roll this thing, OK?”

  “OK.” Ben nodded stiffly. The light changed to a left turn only, and when the car ahead cleared their path, Ben jammed the accelerator and swerved right to pass through the intersection. Two seconds later, their tail also jogged out of the turn lane in pursuit.

  “Horn! Hit the horn!” Simmons shouted, his head turned to track the pursuing vehicle, and Ben complied. “OK, OK, slow down for the turn.”

  Ben slowed and veered right on Flagler with a screaming of tires and modest fishtailing as he straightened on the new path. A few seconds later, their pursuers also swung in behind them from Roosevelt.

  “Floor it! In ten blocks, we’ll be hanging a right on 10th, same tactic. Keep hitting that horn!”

  Ben stayed on the horn, zigzagging through traffic at speeds approaching 50 mph.

  “Counting down,” Simmons said, “14th, 13th, 12th, 11th, slow down and prepare to hang a right, NOW!”

  Ben executed another tire-squealing turn and straightened out, heading north on 10th, gunning the engine and leaning on the horn.

  “Stand by to hit the brakes!” Simmons shouted. “Steady, steady, NOW, hit the brakes!”

  Ben stood on the brake pedal, tires shrieked, and the anti-lock braking chattered. After skidding to a stop in the middle of the street next to a large lagoon, Simmons shouted, “Get down!” He opened both doors on his side of the car, using the rear door for cover.

  Ben dropped behind the seat as their pursuer began screeching to a stop. Suddenly, there was a tremendous crash with the sound of tearing metal and followed by a large splash. Simmons shut the doors and said in a normal tone, “OK, let’s roll. Back to the base, nice and easy.”

  Ben shot up and saw several figures in combat gear with guns drawn running forward from an SUV stopped in the middle of 10th Street. The car chasing them was coming to rest upside down in the lagoon. “WHAT—THE—
HELL!” he shouted at Simmons.

  “Come on, friend, we need to move it. It’s handled. We’re clear now, so stay law-abiding all the way, please.”

  Ben stared at him for a few seconds, then pressed the accelerator. The engine raced briefly, and then, with shaking hands, Ben shifted into Drive.

  “See, you’re a natural,” Simmons said with a smile. “You didn’t even realize you shifted into Park.”

  7

  Revelation

  Secure Compartmented Information Facility, Coast Guard Sector Key West, Key West, Florida

  1117 EST, 15 January

  Ben sat silently next to Sam, looking straight ahead while stealing the occasional furtive glance at him. Sam sat quietly, also staring straight ahead, drumming his fingers on the table. They had been waiting in this state in the dim, windowless room for about two minutes while the Sector Security Watch fetched Simmons from the office he was using. Ben’s hands had finally stopped shaking; it relieved him to see. They had still been shaking rather noticeably when he had reported to Sam aboard the ship on their return from Key West town. It was his first experience with post-adrenaline surge effects.

  Sam had listened to the report without comment, then brought both hands down on his legs with a jarring slap. “Right. Let’s go.” They left the ship, pausing at the quarterdeck to reserve the sector’s Secure Compartmented Information Facility. In the silent walk over, Sam’s gaze fixed forward in steely determination. Ben had not seen this side of his friend before, but he knew there were times he should keep his yap shut, and this was one.

  After a knock, Simmons entered with the security watch. Sam nodded to the petty officer. “Thank you, that’s all.”

  “Yes sir,” the petty officer mumbled as he exited and closed the door.

  “Sit down, Doctor,” Sam said. After the other man had complied, Sam leaned forward, fixing Simmons’s expressionless gaze with his own. “I will recap the morning’s activities for you, Doctor, based on the report I received from my XO and some personal inferences,” Sam began with a stiff formality. “After you left this base, you went to the Sheriff’s office and the two crime scenes to gather information. At some point in that journey, you detected unknown persons trailing your car, quite early in that journey, in fact. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “You withheld this information from my officer until you had completed a leisurely breakfast. After that, you had my officer lead those individuals on a high-speed car chase, ending with their vehicle being upside down in a lagoon off 10th Street. Is THAT correct?”

  “Essentially correct, yes.”

  “You know what I think, Doctor? I think this entire exercise was a setup. I think you found out someone pretty bad was lurking around here, and you decided to take them out. This investigative mission was a bullshit pretense to go on the hunt. You dragged your coat around until they picked up on you. Then you took in a meal. Not because you wanted breakfast and coffee, but to give your thugs time to set up their thugs in an ambush. What do you think of my hypothesis?” Sam glared across the table at the agent.

  “The investigative mission was not a ruse. I needed to see those artifacts and examine the scenes. I didn’t know the opposition was here, but when I picked up on the tail, I recognized an opportunity to change the gameboard, and I took it. That’s my job.”

  Sam’s face flushed with anger. “Doctor, you dragged my officer, unarmed, without his permission or even knowledge into a life-threatening situation. Instead of calling in law enforcement, you forced him into violations of the law and put his and innocent civilian lives at risk. You had your sidearm out at the end. You were expecting a gunfight if your little bumper car ploy didn’t work, weren’t you?”

  “Yes, but that was an unlikely possibility. This isn’t our first rodeo, Captain. We practice and execute these tactics regularly, although not domestically. You should get hold of yourself here.”

  “I told you what to expect if you needlessly put my people in harm’s way!”

  “Aw c’mon, Captain. It was well-controlled and successful. Your man came to no harm; in fact, he did well. He’s a military officer who signed up to take risks, not your little sister.”

  Sam’s mouth clamped shut, and he stood up. Ben followed and said, “Captain?” When Sam shoved the chair backward and started around the table, Ben grasped his arm and held him back. “Sam!”

  At his name, Sam turned and blinked, seemingly seeing Ben for the first time. He gave Simmons one last glare, then yanked the chair forward and sat down firmly. He took a breath to steady down and said, “Doctor, you just crossed the last line with me. You are out one patrol boat.”

  Simmons’s smug smile continued. “Perhaps true for you, Lieutenant, not me. It seems you’ve forgotten I’m in charge of this operation. One phone call from me, and you’ll be on the beach.”

  “Perhaps, but I don’t think so. Anyway, Kauai will be out of it.”

  “Nonsense. They’ll just move up your copilot here. I have a national security priority . . .”

  “You obviously don’t have a good grasp of what it means to command a military vessel,” Sam interrupted. “Sure, if we were in the middle of a critical operation and I dropped dead, Ben would succeed to command. The operational commander would weigh the risks and then decide whether to continue or abort the mission. But, one thing is certain: after the first mooring line goes over, Kauai will be offline until a new CO is appointed and installed. Make your phone call. Whether I’m in or out, the result will be the same.”

  Simmons’s smug smile faded when he realized his poker hand was not as strong as he thought. “OK, stalemate. How do we move on?”

  Sam sat back and cocked his head slightly. “You have one chance here: build trust by coming clean. We’re in this SCIF to give you cover to spill on the whole scenario without compromising security. You give me the whole story on this, convince me it’s complete and truthful to the last nit-noid detail, and maybe, MAYBE, you can also convince me to continue this excellent adventure. Otherwise, you might as well start packing.”

  The “stalemate,” as Simmons described it, lasted another 60 seconds. He and Sam glared at each other with Ben wishing he was anywhere else right then. Finally, Simmons blinked. “Fine, I hope you guys can keep this between us because I will be in deep trouble just sharing it with you.”

  “I understand,” Sam said. “You have our word, nothing you say here will go any further. Right, XO?”

  “Understood Captain.”

  “Gentlemen, I am reluctantly reading you in on a top-secret operation under code word JUBILEE. It is an investigation into the possible landing of an extraterrestrial craft in this vicinity three days ago.”

  Ben gaped at Sam, and Sam returned a similar look of disbelief. “Bullshit!” was all Sam could say.

  “Captain, I get I’m in a hole with you guys credibility-wise, but this is not a ploy or a cover story or any other weaselly spy trick.” Simmons looked from Ben to Sam. “This is the real deal.”

  “OK,” Sam began. “Just for the sake of argument, let’s pretend we would believe anything you tell us right now. How do you know the Martians have landed, and if they have, why haven’t they knocked us off? Surely, if they have interplanetary travel, we can’t be much of a challenge.”

  “I’ll tackle the second question first. Are they scouting to prepare for the ‘big drop’ or exploring, bound by some moral constraint not to interfere? Don’t know. That’s why we must find them.

  “In answer to your first question, have you heard of gravitational waves?” Seeing Sam and Ben exchange “What the hell?” expressions, Simmons continued. “I’ll take that as a no. Gravitational waves are a spacetime effect created by accelerating bodies. For example, anything in orbit radiates energy through gravitational waves, that’s why all orbits decay. They’re so hard to detect that they were just theoretical until recently. The astronomy community built a prototype detector in Italy called Virgo. A shor
t time later, they built a production model—a two-facility detector called LIGO in Hanford, Washington, and Livingston, Louisiana. The first confirmation of gravitational waves we got happened a few years back when the LIGO detector got a hit from a black hole merge from a billion years ago. Even a cataclysmic event like the merging of two black holes has a lot of attenuation across a billion light-years of distance. These instruments are REALLY sensitive.”

  “Fascinating,” Sam said. “And this relates to extraterrestrial vehicles, how?”

  “Bear with me, Captain, it gets really good from here.” After Sam nodded, Simmons continued. “So, here’s a detector so sensitive it can pick up a spacetime flux of amplitude less than the width of a Helium nucleus. Eggheads at LIGO and Virgo were all sitting around listening to star talk until about three days ago when the entire board lit up. The pulse was huge in amplitude. Well, compared to anything they had seen, anyway. Differences in the time of arrival and amplitude between the receivers suggested the source is on Earth’s surface in the location I described before.”

  “Ah, yes,” Sam interrupted. “The event.”

  “Yes, Captain, the event. Another pulse arrived a second later. But this one didn’t originate on Earth. It came from beyond the Moon at what we call the Earth-Moon L2 point. L2 is a location where a small object orbits with a stable orientation to the Earth and Moon, always beyond the far side.”

  “So, it’s in a stable orbit, but always occluded by the Moon,” Ben piped up, glad to remember the term from his basic astronomy course.

  “Spot on,” Simmons continued. “So, we have two simultaneous events creating ripples in spacetime, one in space beyond the Moon and the other right here on good old Mother Earth.”

  “Wait, you said they were about a second apart,” Sam said.

  “I said their arrivals at the detectors were not simultaneous. Gravitational waves travel at the speed of light. The time difference between the two signals is because one event occurred about 275,000 miles further away, give or take. The events generating them occurred at exactly the same time.”