by Darien Cox
Myles perked up. “Yeah.”
“I called in a favor for you. Talked to Ashton.”
Ashton was Tim’s former long-distance boyfriend. They’d split up permanently when Ashton dumped him after getting a job with the CIA. “You asked him about Christian? Jesus, Tim. You should have told me. Ashton doesn’t even like me, and the chief told me to stay out of it. I don’t need any trouble. It was just a suspicion, I hadn’t planned on stalking Christian!”
“Okay, you’re right, I fucked up. I was trying to do something nice for you. You were all worked up earlier. But get this. Christian Boucher does have a government file.”
Myles stilled. “Are you shitting me?”
“Nope.”
“I suspected something when he was so familiar with that Ogden guy, but frankly I’m stunned.”
“Well, you have good instincts. Apparently it’s a big file, too. Pages and pages.”
“What does it say about him?”
“Nothing.” Tim leaned in close. “The entire thing’s redacted. All blacked out.”
Myles’ eyes widened. He’d had his suspicions, but the truth was, he hadn’t expected to be right. Even though his gut told him to pursue it, he couldn’t get past the fact that this was Christian Boucher they were talking about. Annoying, irresponsible, immature, Christian Boucher.
“Redacted? Christian’s file? What does this mean?”
“Don’t know. But Ashton wasn’t happy I made him pull a top secret file, he gave me a verbal thrashing on the phone.”
“Top secret? You’re joking.”
Tim nodded. “Top-fucking-secret. Christian Boucher.”
“What did Ashton say about it?”
“He said to stop asking questions. And from here on, to stay the hell away from Christian Boucher.”
Chapter Four
“You hit on the sheriff? Are you fucking nuts, Christian?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose! It just kind of happened.”
JT cocked an eyebrow. They sat in the office at the marina, waiting for Ogden to show up and let them all into the dry storage facility for a briefing, and to get a look at the thing they’d pulled out of the lake. Elliot and Nolan would be by shortly as well, but Christian was pleased to have a little time alone with JT. He’d missed him.
JT had gotten his hair trimmed, and his blond locks had an extra spring where they curled around his chin. “Of course you did it on purpose,” JT said. “You just told me you had your shirt off and were whispering in his ear about snow cones and cooling him off.”
“It wasn’t like a music video, I didn’t slowly peel my shirt off and shake my hair out. I was shirtless when he showed up, about to work out. But he’s got that cute face and the body and he was dressed in this tight tee shirt looking all manly and angry. I tried to get him to fight with me just so I could touch him. He said no.”
Wheezing with laughter, JT said, “Of course he said no. He’s the fucking sheriff, he’s not gonna spar with you. The poor guy. You probably gave him a boner. You don’t know how sexy you are, it’s not really fair.”
“Guess not sexy enough, he rejected me.” Christian smirked. “Though he definitely had a boner. But he still left. And he was asking about the marina. And the thing.”
JT stiffened. “You didn’t tell me that part. Does Ogden know?”
“Ogden said I could handle it.”
“Can you?”
“I think so. Don’t worry. I’ve got it under control.”
JT huffed. “Right. Under control. That’s what I said about Rudy before he followed us up onto the mountain and had his first close encounter.”
Christian frowned. “How is Rudy?”
“He’s good!” JT’s entire demeanor brightened, a smile lighting his face. “He’s been out of town the past few days, but he’s coming home tomorrow. My dad hooked him up with this big exclusive. He’s off playing journalist dude.”
“Huh. That’s cool. Wish I’d known he was away, I would have stopped by.”
JT’s smile wilted. “And why would Rudy have to be away in order for you to stop by?”
“He doesn’t like me.”
“Oh, bullshit, Christian. You know that’s not true.”
“What? I’m serious. He’s like...BFFs with Elliot now, and even Nolan’s all Team Rudy, but the guy doesn’t like me, I know it.”
“He does like you, he told me himself. Is that why I haven’t seen you? You have an issue with Rudy?”
“I don’t have an issue with him. He’s cool and funny as hell, I like Rudy. But last time I was at your house, I just rubbed your shoulders for a minute, and he got that look in his eyes. You know when they go all serial killer?”
JT chuckled. “Yeah. I know the look you’re talking about.”
“Right? So now I feel like I can’t be myself around him. You need to make him understand our friendship, our history.”
“He knows our history, Christian. That’s probably why he doesn’t like you touching me.”
“Does he also know we’ve been broken up for years?”
“Look.” JT held his hands up. “Rudy’s never had a serious relationship, never been in love before. He’s still adjusting. He tries not to be possessive, but he knows you’re my ex, and you’re...well.” He shrugged. “You’re you.”
“What’s that mean? I’m me.”
“You know what it means. You’re hot. And sweet, and likeable. Give him time to adjust to the newness of our relationship. Eventually, things will go back to normal between you and me.”
Christian scowled. “So if I want to do something with just you, we can’t now? Seriously, JT?”
“Of course we can. But maybe you should ask Rudy to do something with just you. Bond with him. Let him see who you are, and that you’re no threat.”
“You haven’t told him I’m no threat?”
“Of course I have. But he expects me to say that. Maybe if he feels it from you, too, he’ll be more relaxed around you. Just try. Please? For me?”
“Fine. I’ll ask your boyfriend out on a date.”
JT’s eyes narrowed.
“Ha! Look at you. Now who’s possessive?”
Smiling, JT shook his head. “Just take him for a beer or something one night. I’ll pretend I have work to do, so you two can have some alone time.”
“Deal. So you still love me?”
“Always. Why you acting so needy?”
“Sorry. Maybe it’s because I got rejected by Sheriff Hot-bottom.”
JT smirked. “Not used to getting rejected?”
“Not used to giving a shit if I am. Guy acts so big and bad, but the minute I got my flirt on he sped out of there like he was scared. Or maybe I disgusted him.”
“I doubt you disgusted him.” JT stood and went to the door when they heard Elliot and Nolan’s voices outside. “And it’s probably a good thing he rejected you,” JT said. “I hear Sheriff Hot-bottom is pretty smart. Keep your distance from that one. For all our sakes.”
Elliot and Nolan stepped into the office when JT opened the door. “Hey,” Elliot said. “I assume all of those polo-shirt, khaki shorts wearing people down by the storage house aren’t new hires.”
“Ogden’s soldiers,” Christian said. “Guarding the place. Trying to blend in and look all normal and boaty.”
“And failing,” Nolan said as he pulled out a chair. “But they’re necessary I guess, considering what’s inside.”
Nolan looked his usual gorgeous self, black hair tied up in a loose bun, Foster’s Lager tee shirt hugging his muscles. But Elliot didn’t look great, in Christian’s opinion. Elliot always kept his dark blond hair quite short, but it was a bit grown out. And while it was flattering on him, it was highly unusual, and most likely not a conscious fashion statement. More like he couldn’t muster the energy to tend to himself.
While Elliot wore one of his usual silly tee shirts—red with black lettering that read ‘I ONLY RAP CAUCASIONALLY’—it seemed a bit bagg
y on him, like he’d lost weight. And while his skin was always fair, he was starting to look like one of the damn Whites. His green eyes, usually sparkling and cat-like, had dark circles beneath them, and seemed a bit dimmer than usual. “You okay, Elliot?”
“I’m fine. Why?”
“Just asking.”
Christian wanted to take him out, feed him a steak, and get him laid. Maybe that was it. Maybe Elliot was lonely and depressed. JT said Elliot had come to life when they went out in Boston earlier in the year. Maybe it was the village. He needed some excitement in his life that didn’t involve alien craft and shit. Christian decided he’d make sure to spend some extra time with Elliot at the pig roast this weekend, a concerted effort to cheer him up.
Nolan got up and leaned against the office door, peering out the window. “Captain Smiley is here,” he said, and Christian leaned over his shoulder, spotting Ogden getting out of a black SUV.
Christian frowned when he saw a second man get out of the vehicle. “Oh great, he brought Wiley with him.”
“Oh man.” Elliot scowled. “I hate that guy.”
Ogden’s cohort, whom they’d only met a few times, looked the stereotypical Man in Black, in his forties, prematurely gray buzz cut, and sunglasses. Wiley looked like he was in a bad mood, but he was always in a bad mood. A tailored suit hugged his tall, broad-shouldered form, and he had a square jaw like a comic book superhero.
While Ogden was definitely a serious dude, he was the devil they knew, and their long history with him meant they could at least joke around sometimes. Wiley didn’t seem to have a sense of humor. And he didn’t seem to like Christian and the other team members, despite having proven themselves over the past decade, mapping the vast mountain range and clocking the patterns of craft sightings, analyzing samples where they found landing sites, JT’s star charts and speculations about their propulsion systems. Physical encounters with Whites in the woods. And ultimately locating the Whites’ underground installation, even making personal contact with one of their hybrids—Wiley still treated the lot of them like they were a bunch of five-year-olds playing with dynamite.
“Well,” Christian said. “If Wiley’s still here, it’s serious. Everyone just swallow your pride, stiff upper lip. We’re gonna have to deal with him.”
“He better not yell at me again,” Nolan said. “Or I’ll drop-kick him.”
“No you won’t,” Christian said. “You’ll count to ten, take a deep breath, then say, ‘Yes, Sir.’”
“Okay.” JT stood. “Let’s go get a look at this thing.”
****
“It looks like a giant turd,” Elliot said.
Wiley gave Elliot one of his tight-jawed glares. Elliot comparing the recovered craft to a turd clearly wasn’t helping to elevate Wiley’s opinion of them. But then Elliot truly did not give a shit what anyone thought of him, even the spooks they worked for.
“Oh man,” Nolan said. “You ruined it for me, I was thinking it looked like a giant Hershey’s Kiss. It was making me hungry. Now all I can see is a turd.”
“Sugar is bad for you,” Christian quipped, bumping Nolan’s shoulder.
The craft kind of did look like a giant Hershey’s Kiss, black with a dull shine, no visible seams, bell-shaped with a point on top. It was about the size of the village gazeebo on the beach, definitely big enough to fit several people inside comfortably. Christian shivered a little, wondering if it was powered remotely, or if there were possibly bodies inside. Thus far there’d been only silence from the craft. Ogden’s team had it propped up on supports so they had access to the underside. But so far, no doors or entry point had been discovered.
“JT,” Ogden said. “Tell Wiley what you told me on the phone.”
JT tapped at the tablet he held, blue eyes narrowed in concentration. “Three and a half years ago,” he said. “I have record of spotting something similar to this over the lake. It’s hard to say if it’s the exact same craft because it was nighttime and there were lights visible. But the shape and size is definitely similar.”
“Well, this thing certainly doesn’t have any lights,” Christian said, examining the smooth underside.
“Not that we can see,” Nolan said. “The Whites’ tech is too advanced to speculate.”
“Are we sure this isn’t one of ours?” JT asked, looking at Ogden.
“It’s not ours,” Wiley said sharply.
“You’re sure?” JT raised his brows at Wiley, who gave him his token glare. “Something from another country, maybe? Something you might not know about? A drone of some sort?”
Christian would not have opted to question Wiley, but like Elliot, JT had never been intimidated by his higher-ups. Christian wasn’t exactly scared of Wiley, but had learned in the past that the man did not like to be second-guessed, especially by them.
“He’s sure,” Ogden said. “Wiley is familiar with all existing aircraft in this country and around the world, even those still in the experimental stage. That’s why he’s here. We’re pretty sure this thing is not terrestrial.”
“Which is why we need to move it out of this...boathouse,” Wiley said, sneering as he looked around the space. “I want to get it back where we can use proper equipment to examine it.”
“If it belongs to the Whites,” Christian said, “good luck seeing inside it. Their tech screws with all of ours.”
“Sure, that’s true when it’s active,” JT said. “But this thing crashed into the lake, it could be damaged. At the very least it’s likely powered down. If it has disruptive tech, it might be dormant.”
“Good point, JT,” Ogden said, and Christian rolled his eyes. JT was Ogden’s golden child. While Christian was as reverent of JT’s mind as anyone, Ogden thought he shit rainbows, and was always fawning over him.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Elliot said.
Wiley and Ogden both looked at Elliot. “What doesn’t make sense?” Ogden asked.
Elliot circled the craft. “The Whites are super advanced. They can manipulate matter, move things through walls. Ogden, they removed all your doors and windows while you were sleeping once, and didn’t make a sound. But we’re supposed to believe they just...oopsie! Lost track of one of their own craft like this?”
“Plus the Whites’ crafts are huge,” Christian said. “You heard what Baz the hybrid said. Earth is a midway point between two important places they travel to, a stop off, to rest and recharge because the journey’s so damn long. I can’t see something this tiny traveling distances like that.”
“With the propulsion systems they use, size doesn’t really matter,” JT said.
“Well sure, maybe not size, but what about comfort?” Elliot said. “The Whites are kind of snobby and entitled. I can’t see them traveling a gazillion light years in this flying turd.”
“Maybe it’s a pod or something,” Ogden said. “Something they use just to travel around here locally. Could have fit in one of their larger craft.”
“Snobby and entitled?” Wiley scoffed as he looked at Elliot. “You’re applying human qualities to an inhuman race, projecting your own ideas onto them. You don’t know their personalities, as a culture or otherwise. They’re an enlightened, completely advanced race of beings.”
“Oh yeah?” Elliot walked toward Wiley. “The hybrid we met, Baz, made clear that the Whites find him disgusting because he’s part human. That doesn’t sound too enlightened to me.”
“Elliot has a point,” JT said. “Putting aside whether or not the Whites are snobby racists, they’ve always been meticulous about staying hidden, not letting their presence here bleed over into the village. It’s unlikely they’d lose track of one of their craft. Even less likely that they wouldn’t have recovered it themselves by now. As Elliot said, they can manipulate matter. They could have grabbed it from the lake as soon as it crashed, and none of us would have been the wiser. Shit, they could pull it right up out of here, through the roof if they wanted.”
Ogden approached JT. “So why
do you think they haven’t recovered it? Yet.”
JT shrugged, and pointed to the craft. “We have to consider the possibility that this thing does not belong to the Whites.”
“Oh come on,” Wiley said. “You’ve got an alien installation under the ground up in those mountains. It’s within hiking distance for Christ sakes. All logic points to this belonging to them.”
“I would agree with you in theory,” JT said. “But I also agree with Elliot regarding their personality as a whole. We’ve been doing this for ten years, Wiley. While we may not sit down and have beers with the Whites, we’ve gotten a sense of how they think. They wouldn’t drop their trash on our front lawn then just leave us to clean it up. They’re too protective of themselves.”
Ogden rubbed his temples. “Great. Just what we need. A second threat.”
“I’m not buying that,” Wiley said. “This has got to belong to the Whites. We know why the Whites are here. But why would some other alien race be hanging around Singing Bear Lake?”
“I’m just saying,” JT said. “We need to consider the possibility this belongs to someone or something other than the Whites.”
“If not the Whites,” Nolan said, examining the craft, “where the hell did it come from?”
“We could ask the Whites if they know,” Christian said.
Ogden looked up. “No.”
“Why not? We got an answer the last time we left them a note. We could just see if they know anything about it.”
“No,” Ogden and Wiley said simultaneously. “If they haven’t recovered it themselves, then they either don’t know we have it or they don’t care,” Ogden said. “We’re not handing this over to them.”
“Agreed,” Wiley said. “Arrangements are being made to transport it out of here. We need to get this thing back to where it can be properly secured, regardless of where it came from.”
“Awesome,” Nolan said. “Take it away, poke and prod at it. Then leave us to sit here and deal with what’s likely a brand new threat to us, as usual.”
