Anaz-Voohri (8 page)

“And you’ll give up all your public activities?”

Zack dropped into the chair and sighed. “If that’s what it takes.”

“Be careful. Once under oath, any slip up and I promise you’ll find yourself in that dingy cell. The FBI is no college frat house. We mean what we say.”

Zack swallowed hard. As an aspiring journalist, he’d never been good at keeping secrets. He’d have to tread carefully with this precarious arrangement. “I give you my word.”

“After we share with you, there is no going back. Do you understand?”

The finality choked Zack’s voice. “I’m well aware of that." He willed his words to come loud and clear. “Let’s do this.”

“Good. Here’s the deal." Agent Michalski pushed a button on his desk and the glass walls turned milky white. The side wall became a large screen where an image of Earth from space appeared. He swiveled his chair to face the wall.

Zack did the same.

“This recording was taken by an orbiting satellite on July 4, 2003, the night the twelve little girls, the Darling Dozen as we call them, disappeared from their beds in the middle of the night.”

Zack would never forget that fateful night. He watched with fascination the three disc-shaped vessels gliding smoothly toward the North American East Coast, moonlight glinting on their golden surface. The hull seemed carved with markings that resembled the Anasazi petroglyphs Zack had observed in his quest for Kokopelli, the flute player. The alien vessels paused over Long Island. One remained there while another went to the Midwest and the third swooped to LA then flew over the Pacific Ocean toward the Hawaiian Islands. “I’ll be damned!" Zack exclaimed. “You knew all along?”

“They landed in all the spots where the girls were abducted. But that’s not all." Agent Michalski pressed a key on a desk top device, and another view from space displayed the Indian Ocean. “This one was taken on December 26, 2004, just hours before the Tsunami struck.”

Chills running down his spine, Zack observed a spaceship falling through the atmosphere like a flaming meteorite, accelerating toward the ocean. The ship splashed and disappeared under the surface.

“Keep watching.”

Zack focused on the spot where the vessel had impacted the water. A bright explosion deep under the surface churned the waters.

“The blast destabilized the fault between the tectonic plates and made the planet wobble on its axis. There is no doubt that it caused the infamous Tsunami.”

Bile rose in Zack’s throat at the thought of hundred of thousands killed by the cataclysm that followed. “Was it intentional?’

“We prefer to think it was an accident. The ship had several occupants. It seems their ships are prone to technical failures. We’ve observed several in a short time. We don’t know why.”

“I think I do." Zack savored his advantage. “They don’t have the manpower to maintain them."

“Really?"
Michalski considered Zack with new respect. “There is more.”

Zack grabbed the armrests of his chair trying to digest this new information. He hadn’t expected to learn that much so fast. “More?”

“Oh yes." Agent Michalski started
another satellite
footage. “Watch carefully on the left side of the eye of Hurricane Katrina.”

Zack couldn’t believe it. The enhanced picture revealed an Anaz-voohri spacecraft just above the deadly spiral. “Did they cause it?”

“Unlikely. However, they were monitoring it very closely, as if they are studying our weather patterns.”

“Why would they do that?" Zack’s mind swirled with new theories.

“Either they are studying it or interfering with it, but most likely they are planning an invasion. Why else would they be interested in the weather on the surface?”

“They want to use the weather as a weapon?" At first Zack thought the return of the Anaz-voohri meant Ashley would come back soon, but obviously her abductors had more sinister plans. “What can we do?”

“If, as you say, you can give us inside information about their species, then we can figure out what they want, and knowing their weaknesses could give us a starting point on how to fight back.”

“That’s cool with me." Zack failed to find reassurance in the agent’s confidence. “But they are so advanced, how can we possibly win?”

Michalski shook the ashes from his cigar. “We are currently training exceptional troops for a special kind of mission never attempted before.”

Zack wished he could join them, despite his dislike of the military. “Do they know what they are up against?”

“Not yet." Michalski stared at Zack pointedly. “You’d probably be my first choice to brief them on that. But they are the best and the brightest in their fields, and we have hope.”

“Do we have the ability to fight in space?”

“We’re working on that, too." Michalski pulled on his cigar.
“Still interested?”

“Hell, yes. But I don’t want to be sitting on the sidelines. I want to join the fight. Where do I sign up for your special troops?”

“Not so fast." Michalski coughed up smoke. “You look tough enough and you bring valuable alien expertise to the table. But we have to debrief you first. After you’ve held your end of the bargain, I’ll gladly recommend you to join their training camp. Of course, you’ll have to remain available to us whenever we need your expertise.”

“Sweet."
Zack suddenly remembered the TV interview. “But that footage recorded today for NBC will air tomorrow.”

“No it won’t." Michalski grinned through the smoke. “We already saw to that.”

“Damn! You’re quick.”

“Aren’t you glad you are part of our team?”

Great relief washed over Zack. He’d fought hopelessly in the dark for so long, he finally would get to face his enemy with a fighting chance. But what had he gotten himself into? The hardest part would be to explain his sudden change of heart to Lobo without spilling any government secrets. Zack hoped he wouldn’t lose his only friend in that bargain.

*****

As Zack feared, Lobo didn’t take the news well. He paced Zack’s now bare room, shaking his head. “I can’t believe it. That’s not right. You can’t just give up like that." Lobo didn’t say
What about me? But t
he disappointment and the pain of the rejection showed in the way he avoided looking at Zack.

“Hey! I’m not giving up, man." Uncomfortable on the bed, Zacks punched the pillow nervously. “I’m stepping up to the plate and taking action. What I’m doing now is helping more than just writing a book or running a website. Although no one knows it, our planet is at war against a powerful enemy, and I want to fight. So I’m joining the Special Forces.”

“You?
A soldier?
You’re kidding, right?”

“What’s so funny?" Zack resented Lobo’s lack of confidence in him. “I’m fit, I know how to fight, I have self discipline and I’m tough.”

“Yeah, but you’ll never make it in the military, dude.”

“Why not?”

Lobo faced the window, his back tense. “I can’t picture you taking orders from those power-hungry pricks. You never could obey stupid orders." He faced Zack suddenly. “What makes you think you can change? Remember what you told me about your real dad?”

Zack remembered only too well. He was only nine when his father had come home drunk from one of his escapades. He’d shoved Zack’s mother against the wall and she looked so scared. When his father ordered him to bed, Zack rebelled. Even at nine, he couldn’t let his father abuse his mother.

In an uncontrollable rage, Zack had rushed the big man, kicked and screamed and carried on until one of the neighbors called the cops. He’d received bruises and even a broken rib from his drunken dad that day, but the incident had given his mother pause. She’d realized his father presented a danger to Zack and she’d filed for divorce.

After that she’d married a journalist colleague,
then
Ashley was born. Ironically, Ashley’s disappearance had plunged his mother into the same alcoholic trap his father had fallen into.

“I’m not nine anymore." Zack found it difficult to talk. “I can control myself and obey stupid orders if it’s for a good cause.”

Lobo faced him again, his brow set in a frown. “So you think, but I wouldn’t bet on it."

Zack couldn’t imagine abandoning his friend of several years. An empty sensation ate at the pit of his stomach. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m not a warrior like you." Lobo’s eyes softened. “I’m going back to the reservation for the summer. Soak in the old culture, get some inspiration to design new jewelry, maybe meet a girl who’s not afraid to live the simple life.”

“What about your studies?”

“I’ll graduate, just to make my father proud. He wants me to maintain the casino computers for the Tribe in Arizona.”

Zack had the sinking feeling that this was goodbye. Something tore inside him, but he didn’t let it show. He even smiled when Lobo left. “See you around,” was all he said, but he wondered whether he’d ever see his friend again.

Picking up Dude, Zack realized his furry friend was getting old and he may never see him again, either. “You keep an eye on mom for me, Dude." He kissed the thick black fur.

Zack wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He hated goodbyes.

Chapter Six

Two weeks later, after a debriefing at the Pentagon for the CIA in Langley, and another at the FBI Headquarters in Washington, DC, Zack drove his Kawasaki on the Washington Beltway and exited at Andrews Air Force Base. When he showed his papers at the gate, his heart beat faster, like at the beginning of an adventure. What had he gotten himself into?

Assigned to a temporary cottage on the base until his morning flight, Zack tried to sleep but anticipation and the unfamiliar sounds around him kept him awake. Around one in the morning, the thunder of a squadron taking off rattled the shutters. He jumped off the bed and opened the window but couldn’t see anything. The base, so brightly lit earlier, was in total blackout. Zack flipped the light switch. No electricity.
Strange.
He slipped on a pair of jeans and stepped outside to look up.

In the clear night, four fighter jets chased a round, luminous object. It was too far to see it clearly. Much larger than the jets, it flew at incredible speed in erratic patterns. Obviously, no plane could fly like that. It was too large to be a missile. It stopped instantly, then reversed course, leaving the jets to trace wide circles in their attempt to follow. It could only be an alien craft. Was it Anaz-voohri?

As Zack watched in excitement, the chase went out of range then returned shortly. After fifteen minutes of cat and mouse games, the object just went straight up and disappeared among the stars, as if it had never been there. A shiver of dread coursed along Zack’s spine. Had the Anaz-voohri engaged the military?
Above Washington, DC?
As if to challenge the US Government?

Early the next morning, over scrambled eggs in the crowded mess hall, a young pilot in flight jacket sat across from him. Zack saw his opportunity. “What was that all about last night?”

The pilot glanced at Zack’s civilian clothes and shrugged.
“Just a routine scramble.”

Staring at his eggs, Zack wondered whether the young man mocked him.

The pilot smiled. “A scramble is a training exercise.”

Zack nodded, feeling ignorant. “Was it your squadron up there?”

“Yep,” the pilot said over a mouthful of eggs.

“Not bad, although how can anyone catch up with that thing you chased, I can’t imagine." Zack tried to sound casual. “What was it?”

The pilot looked around then whispered, “it’s classified.”

Zack chuckled, trying to get the pilot to loosen up. “Weird would be a better word.”

The pilot offered a half smile.
“Yep.
Welcome to weird season at Andrews Air Force Base.”

“There are seasons for these... scrambling exercises?”

“You bet." The pilot winked. “Summer, mainly, when the skies are clear.”

“Did you ever catch one of those things?”

The smile disappeared from the pilot’s face. “We’re not trying to. Only scare them away. Two years ago, I got too close to one... My instruments went berserk. I almost crashed."

“Did you get a good look?"

“Sorry, I’m not at liberty to discuss it." The young man clammed up, lost in the fascination of his coffee cup.

“Don’t worry. I’m in the loop." Zack hoped his friendly attitude would bring forth more information, but the young man looked scared. Glancing at the clock on the wall, Zack rose.
“Got to go.
Nice meeting you. Good Luck.”

At seven sharp, a jeep stopped in front of the mess hall. The driver called his name, and Zack climbed inside. According to instructions, he brought only a small bag of personal effects. No change of clothes, no cell phones, no watch, no computers, no recording devices of any kind. All would be provided at his destination, although he still didn’t know where that was.