Desert Assassin (9 page)

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

A
S THE
G
ENERAL,
R
APPAPORT AND
L
ING
headed back to the trailer, Henderson remained in the house. “There is a third reason for Las Vegas, isn’t there? You know.”

Williams nodded.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Not to the General and Jim. Stan’s a good man, Alice, and he is everything that I could never be to you.”

She gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked out of the house while wiping away tears.

Much to the group’s disappointment, Killer Two had taken a rare break away from the diner. As a result, they had one round of drinks, a quick dinner and prepared to leave. As they were walking out, Henderson noticed Williams taking a long look around the inside of the diner; almost as if he was saying good-bye.

As they pulled into Williams’ driveway, the General’s men were preparing for a morning departure. The General subtly let it be known that only he and Williams were returning to the house. The two long-time friends spent two hours trying to go over as many contingencies as possible, especially with respect to communications.

The General concluded the conversation by asking Williams if he was sure that he didn’t want at least two or three additional men.

“Positive.”

“I’ll make sure you get the best information that I can possibly provide. Rest assured the bastard won’t intercept it. See you in the morning.”

At 9:00AM, the General, Rappaport, Ling, Henderson, the pilot and one of the staff sergeants left for Albuquerque in the General’s helicopter. Shortly thereafter, the rest of the troops left in a caravan.

Ling and Henderson boarded a commercial flight bound for Las Vegas from Albuquerque International Airport late in the afternoon. Both were in uniform. They had each booked a room in the same hotel, though more often than not they planned to share a room.

Williams was a meticulous planner. It had helped to keep him alive on more than one occasion. As a result, he had concocted a plan for his exit that had the General shaking his head. An old Ford SUV was loaded with all the equipment, supplies and weapons requested by Williams and Fowler. It was driven by one of the Generals most trusted men to an area two miles the other side of Killer Two’s Diner. The driver left the keys tucked behind the right front tire and walked to the diner parking lot.

Meanwhile, Williams drove his Pathfinder to the diner, placed the keys under the front seat and enjoyed an evening meal and the company of Killer Two.

“Where are your friends, Bill?”

“They left.”

“They were Army, right?”

Williams smiled.

“Bet so are you.”

William said nothing in response.

The big man leaned over the counter and whispered, “Where did they take it, Area 51?”

“Take what?”

“Ah, I thought so. Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul.”

“You know, Killer, several people who couldn’t keep quiet about Roswell mysteriously disappeared.”

“You’re shitting me, right?”

Williams paused for what seemed like eternity to Killer Two and then said, “There was no UFO here in the desert, just a weather balloon.”

“Got it. Thanks, Bill.”

Meal finished, including a second cup of coffee, Williams said, “Well, Killer, I’m heading back to play some music and have some decent Merlot.”

“Hey, the stuff I serve is top shelf.”

Williams laughed, “Yah, right out of the best five liter boxes you can buy.”

Killer Two laughed in return.

Williams began his walk. A minute later, he watched his Pathfinder being driven away. “Perfect timing,” he thought.

When the driver entered the house, he found several bottles of wine on the kitchen counter and beer in the refrigerator. Before doing anything else, he turned on the music as he had been directed to do. As “Speedoo” by the Cadillacs began to play, he said to himself, “I can’t believe anyone can listen to this stuff, but what a helluva great assignment this is.” He then walked past the wine and searched the kitchen until he found two bottles of scotch. Smiling, he said, “This is big bucks a bottle stuff.”

Less than a half-hour after he left the diner, Williams was in the Ford and on his way to rendezvous with Fowler.

Fowler, meanwhile, had pulled everything back from his nest to the well-covered ATV and then returned to the truck. He was sound asleep when his cell phone rang at 3:33AM. He heard a password which only he and Williams knew. Both of them understood that trying to find one another in the dark would be impossible. Williams supplied coded coordinates for his location and tried to get some sleep.

Fowler found it impossible to fall back to sleep. As a result, he packed up everything and waited for the first sliver of light. He found Williams fifty-three minutes later.

Before saying a word, Williams reached into a cooler and handed Fowler a container of orange juice and “real” food. “Here are some sandwiches from Killer Two’s Diner.”

“Killer Two a real person?”

“He sure is. Owns a diner not too far from my place. He’s about six-four, pushing three hundred pounds and tried to make it as a wrestler years ago.”

“Why didn’t you bring him along?”

Williams laughed. Free to speak, he detailed everything from the spotting of the meteor to his rendezvous with Fowler.

Fowler said not a word throughout the monologue, but then fired a bevy of questions at Williams. Included was the most important, “If it’s alive, how the hell do you expect to find it?”

“If the General’s resources come up with anything, he’ll let us know.”

C
HAPTER
T
WELVE

H
ALFWAY DURING THE SHORT FLIGHT
from Albuquerque to Las Vegas, Henderson said, “Stan, there is something you should know.”

“That I’m the luckiest guy on the planet?”

“You may not think that after what I have to say.”

The first thought in his mind was that she was having second thoughts about their relationship. His stomach began to churn and out came, “You’re dumping me?”

“God, that was dumb of me,” he thought. Looking closely at her, he could see that she was struggling to respond.

“No, Stan, that is the last thing I would do, but I’m afraid it may be you who wants to do the dumping.”

Ling’s first reaction was puzzlement; however, his mind cleared and he was became fairly certain what he had suspected was reality. “You and Bill have a past.”

“Has it been that obvious?”

“No, but little by little I figured it out. First, there was body language. Subtle, but nevertheless noticeable. More than that, when the General first brought you into the comm van, it was obvious that he did not know you prior to your arrival. Then, at the first meeting, there was no question that you and Bill knew each other. It wasn’t much of a leap to figure out that he must have asked the General to have you brought there. Therefore, he had to have known you and known you very well.”

Tears welled up in Henderson’s eyes. Difficult as it was sitting in the plane, Ling gave her a hug.

As they were checking in to the hotel, Ling suggested that they freshen up, have dinner and visit a casino.

“No,” she replied, “you are coming to my room. We will see about the rest later.”

“Let’s run through the plan again,” suggested Fowler as he was driving the truck with the ATV in tow en route to their quest to find Assassin. It was left to the General to see to the immediate retrieval of Williams’ Ford.

“The odds of my finding the meteorite were a helluva lot better than our finding Assassin, presuming it is still alive. Hopefully, if it is alive, it will have gone southwest into the hills after leaving whatever that was that vaporized. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on Morgan’s face when that happened.”

“You want to get him, don’t you.”

“Not as much now as when I first met him and he steamrolled the General and then used Alice as a pawn to get me to go along with him. Who knows, though? With his resources, I wouldn’t be surprised if our paths cross down here again. But right now, our only mission is to get Assassin as quickly as possible.”

“Want me to drive faster?”

Williams laughed and continued, “Once we get there, we pull a needle in a haystack routine, try to find it and kill it anyway we can. Then we hope it hasn’t already replicated. About the only other thing we can do, or try to do, is get a sample for Ling and Henderson.”

“Suppose it starts to evaporate?”

“Again, everything is based on hope. In this case, I’m hoping what we saw the first time was somehow caused by Assassin and that it won’t happen this time.”

“Lot of hopes and ifs, Bill.”

Six days passed. Each was spent wandering through the hills from dawn to near dusk. The searching produced nothing. Nothing is what they also heard from the General; meaning his satellite had not spotted Assassin. Drones were not used for fear of drawing Morgan’s attention. At dawn on day seven, Williams asked Fowler to work his way back to the truck, drive to Magdalena, get himself a good meal and pick up enough in the way of supplies to last another week.

“Be careful, Bill.”

Fowler returned during late afternoon. Included were a half dozen thick deli style sandwiches stuffed with roast beef and provolone cheese. “Not anywhere near as good as what I used to make at the Deli Don’s, but they’ll have to do.”

“Thanks, Young Artie.”

Fowler laughed, “You remember.”

“How could I forget that story?”

Between them, Williams and Fowler finished four of the sandwiches and then continued searching until sunset. As soon as they set up camp, Fowler pulled out a bottle of Merlot he had bought in Magdalena. “Go easy, we have an early start tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

Nine days came and went all too quickly for Ling. The following morning TDY assignments came in for him and Henderson. It was back to reality as he was being sent back to Wright-Patterson, while she was going to Fort Belvoir. The only reason that Ling could think of for her being sent to Belvoir was its proximity to the General.

“Damn the bastard,” thought Ling. He wondered how long it would be before they would see each other again. As events would soon prove, the separation was to be a short one.

Another six days of futile searching passed for Williams and Fowler. Williams had decided to call it quits, but Fowler convinced him to give it a few more days. A week to the day from his previous visit to Magdalena, Fowler headed back for additional supplies.

Williams spent the day searching for Assassin with no success. At 4:00PM, he headed back to their base camp to await his partner’s return. Rather than eat anything, he decided to hold off figuring that Fowler would bring back more deli sandwiches. Instead, he opted for a small glass of scotch. Just as he was about to pour the scotch, he caught a reflection from the sun coming from an object about forty feet to his left.

Turning slowly, he immediately recognized the barrel of a rifle protruding from thick brush.

“Do . . . not . . . move . . . I . . . do . . . not . . . want . . . to . . . end . . . you.” The voice was robotic and totally devoid of any semblance of emotion.

Methodically, a radically transformed Assassin emerged from the brush. As much as Williams tried to conceal his shock of what he was staring at, it was impossible. Assassin was now the size of a large tiger and looked – with two incredible exceptions – exactly like an overgrown mountain lion. Gone were the jackrabbit legs, the tarantula legs, the sand-colored tarantula hair and the amalgam of assassin bug, kangaroo rat and spider facial features.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of two powerful looking human-like arms and hands protruding from the shoulders. Forcing himself to assess what he was facing, Williams realized that during the previous two weeks Assassin had somehow managed to overwhelm both a mountain lion and a human being. What else could possibly explain its appearance and the voice? Apparently, Assassin was adjusting to speaking using human vocal cords and its victim’s brain. “Alice nailed it,” he said in a whisper.

At that moment, Williams’ only two hopes – there was that word again – seemed to be Assassin’s pronouncement that he didn’t want to “end” him and the return of Fowler.

Assassin came to within twenty feet and stopped. The rifle, a Winchester Model 88, was correctly held in both hands and pointed directly at Williams’ chest. Williams had no doubt that Assassin had bagged itself a hunter.

“We . . . meet . . . again . . . your . . . name . . . is?”

“Bill Williams.” The reply was given with as little emotion as was possible.

“No . . . your . . . military . . . name.”

“Major Williams.”

“You . . . could . . . have . . . ended . . . me . . . at . . . the . . . beginning . . . you . . . did . . . not . . . unless . . . you . . . force . . . me . . . to . . . I . . . will . . . not . . . end . . . you . . . and . . . then . . . we . . . will . . . be . . . even . . . though . . . you . . . would . . . be . . . of . . . much . . . more . . . use . . . than . . . Fred.”

“So some poor bastard named Fred ended up as part of Assassin,” thought Williams. He decided to try to find out as much as possible about Assassin. “Do you know where you came from?”

“You . . . show . . . no . . . fear . . . unlike . . . Fred . . . no . . . I . . . do . . . not.”

“That is unfortunate. You, that is what was in the meteoroid that has become you, was probably trapped inside it in space for millions of years.”

“I . . . have . . . no . . . memory . . . of . . . that.”

“What is the first thing you remember?”

“You.”

“When, that is, how soon after you came out of the meteorite?”

“Not . . . long . . . after . . . I . . . came . . . out . . . of . . . it . . . you . . . have . . . said . . . meteoroid . . . and . . . meteorite . . . Fred . . . knows . . . only . . . the . . . word . . . meteor . . . for . . . a . . . rock . . . from . . . space . . . what . . . is . . . the . . . difference?”

Williams seized on the opportunity to give a protracted explanation before asking how Assassin in its then newly created form was able to detect and recognize him.
“I . . . could . . . not . . . see . . . you . . . like . . . I . . . do . . . now . . . but . . . I . . . could . . . see . . . your . . . shape . . . from . . . my . . . outside . . . that . . . is . . . how . . . I . . . found . . . the . . . food . . . why . . . did . . . you . . . not . . . end . . . me?”

“As far as I know, you are the first alien life to have come to Earth. To have destroyed you would have destroyed the greatest discovery in history.”

“You . . . have . . . been . . . hunting . . . me . . . why?”

“Because you are now viewed as a threat to human beings. Did you create and then kill the copy of you that we found in the desert?”

“Yes.”

“That was very clever. Why did the body dissolve into gases?”

“I . . . do . . . not . . . know . . . but . . . I . . . have . . . something . . . in . . . me . . . that . . . allows . . . me . . . to . . . do . . . that . . . maybe . . . I . . . could . . . do . . . that . . . to . . . you.”

Williams noted that Assassin’s last thought almost brought it to laughter. Almost, not quite.

“Who . . . is . . . the . . . black . . . man . . . do . . . you . . . work . . . for . . . him?”

“Do you mean the man wearing the black uniform?”

“Yes.”

Williams figured this was a perfect opening to once again stall for time. As a result, he gave a very detailed account of how he came to know Morgan.

When he had finished, Assassin asked, “Do . . . you . . . know . . . where . . . I . . . can . . . find . . . him?”

“No, I only know how to contact him by telephone. Why?”

“Fred . . . has . . . very . . . limited . . . uses . . . he . . . would . . . be . . . very . . . useful.”

“How?”

“Survival . . . and . . . I . . . owe . . . him . . . nothing . . . unlike . . . you . . . can . . . you . . . telephone . . . and . . . tell . . . him . . . where . . . I . . . am?”

“No, I have his private phone number written down on a piece of paper back in my house and I do not remember it.”

“If . . . I . . . let . . . you . . . go . . . would . . . you . . . telephone . . . him?”

“You do not want me to do that.”

“Why . . . not?”

“He would come here with dozens, maybe hundreds, of men and a vast array of weaponry. You would not be able to get near him.”

“I . . . see . . . am . . . I . . . right . . . in . . . thinking . . . he . . . would . . . want . . . to . . . capture . . . me?”

“Yes.”

At this point, Williams pondered whether to try to see if Assassin had already replicated. He decided that was best left unasked for a while longer.

“What . . . do . . . you . . . do . . . in . . . the . . . military?”

Not knowing what capacity Assassin had to recognize lying, Williams continued to tell him the truth, as filtered as it was. He concentrated on his years in the Special Forces.

When he had finished, Assassin asked, “Do . . . you . . . enjoy . . . ending . . . your . . . kind?”

Williams was not prepared for the question. “That is both an unexpected question and a difficult question to answer.” Williams paused. “Do you mind if I finish pouring my scotch?”

“No . . . I . . . know . . . a . . . little . . . about . . . scotch . . . from . . . Fred.”

Williams poured himself the drink and took a sip.

Assassin seemed to study his reaction to the drink. “You . . . enjoy . . . that . . . why?”

“I never asked myself that. I guess that it is something that some of us are programmed to do, while others are not.”

“Do . . . you . . . drink . . . it . . . often?”

“Probably too often.”

“Is . . . it . . . bad . . . for . . . you?”

“Too much of it is, yes.”

“I . . . would . . . like . . . to . . . try . . . it.”

Not wanting to alert Assassin to the fact there was someone else with him, Williams offered him the same glass he had been using. Assassin cautiously walked toward Williams, all the while keeping the rifle steadily in place. Williams slowly bent forward and placed the glass on the ground. He then backed off about three feet. This allowed Assassin to move up to the glass.

“Should . . . I . . . drink . . . slowly . . . like . . . you?”

Williams fought the urge to laugh. The scene was absolutely absurd. Here he was telling an alien how to best drink scotch. “Yes.”

Assassin took a sip with the glass in one hand and the rifle in the other. A minute later another sip. And then another. Finally, he put down the empty glass and said, “I . . . would . . . like . . . more.”

“Do you mind if I have some first?”