Hybrid - Forced Vengeance (12 page)

Several manila folders were stacked on the passenger seat; information he needed.

Sparks looked around the empty street. No one was paying any mind. Since he had no room to open the passenger side door, he gently lifted the driver’s door handle and pulled the door open.

Peter’s body slumped forward against the steering wheel exposing the large hole in the back of his head. “Peter, I’m so sorry,” He said reaching behind the dead man for the documents. As he fumbled with one of the folders, its contents spilled on the seat and floor. Blank sheets of copy paper! He quickly flipped through the other folders. All blank.

Looking around for any evidence, he caught sight of a small yellow post-it note stuck on the dashboard. He’d seen it before but discarded it as a reminder of sort for Peter. In bold black were the letters B-O-O-M followed by an exclamation point.

He caught sight of the tiny red blinking light. The light stopped flashing to glow a continuous bright red. Michael Sparks knew what that meant and felt the bile rise in his stomach.

“Aw shit!” Sparks reacted, pulling himself out of the car just as the timer on the explosive expired, detonating the ‘69 Corvette into a massive plume of fire. He felt the searing heat and smelled the charring of his hair and flesh as the force of the blast threw him twenty feet across the street. His body had gone mercifully numb as flames continued to consume him. His eyes registered each horrible second until they too succumbed to the flames.

Gestation Day 41

Colonel Ross suffered from a headache. The kind caused by tension when things didn’t go according to plan. Shanda Knight had proven to be more of a hassle than anybody had anticipated. She’d managed to get a distress call off to her husband. Fortunately for Groom Lake, Knight apparently hadn’t heard her desperate plea. His sources claimed that Knight had foiled an attempted assassination on Monique LaSalle, and he knew the detective had his hands full protecting the fiery French socialite. The key was to keep Knight busy and off balance.

At least that part was going according to plan.

Ever since Gray’s ship had sealed itself, they had lost access to the invaluable technology contained within. Ross was at the end of his patience with the tiny alien. Then the cost associated with generating a third bioelectric shield was another drain on their budget. To make matters worse, the Pentagon was coming for an inspection. They wanted to check on his progress, or lack thereof. The Pentagon expected results, and if he couldn’t deliver, he would be banished to a meaningless job pushing papers – or forced into early retirement. He was looking for a star on his shoulder and these two projects comprised his chance to earn the promotion.

The alien was the key. It had to be coerced – by force if necessary, tortured if need be –whatever the cost Ross would get access to the ship again, and the alien would tell him how the craft operated.

“Lt. Colonel. Anderson,” he barked into his intercom.

“Sir,” Anderson replied crisply.

“Are we ready for our discussion with ET the extraterrestrial?”

Anderson chuckled. “The necessary tools and mechanisms have been implemented, the controls have been rerouted through the cell’s master panel and the device we requested will be available.” Anderson paused. “Just give the word, and we can get underway.”

Ross smiled. “Let’s get this over with then. The sooner we have access to that ship, the sooner we can start breaking this shit wide open. Time is our enemy now, Bill. We’ve got our lead in the Pentagon looking for results earlier than we can accommodate. We must pull a rabbit out of our hat and come up with something before they get here. Understand?”

* * * *

Colonel Ross and Lt. Colonel Anderson led a team of four armed men into the holding cells containing Shanda and Gray. The hiss of the large titanium hatch announced their arrival.

Ross hadn’t planned on acknowledging the woman who broke his nose, but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to completely break her will.

“Good day, Mrs. Knight. I trust you’re adjusting to your new home.”

“I don’t think I’ll be here too long.”

Her voice was filled with venom. “I wouldn’t count on your husband coming any time soon.” Ross paused for effect, then went on, “Our latest reports still have him in Paris. You should be proud of him; he saved the French president’s daughter from a sniper. Truly heroic, but not the actions of a man coming to the aid of his wife. Wouldn’t you agree?” Shanda refused to answer.

“I was told the young woman was very grateful afterwards,” Ross added, knowing she would get the connotations of his statement. “I mean, his wife is dead, and he’s alone in a foreign country, protecting a beautiful young socialite. I’m sure she is doing her best to comfort her injured, lonely hero.”

Shanda spun around and walked purposely toward the clear barrier. The look on her face was not that of a broken woman.

“You just took your game too far.” She drilled him with her meanest look. “My husband is a man. He would never dishonor a child, especially someone he was assigned to protect. You need to go back to your little interrogation manuals and find some new ploy.”

The captive spun away from him and then turned to face him again.

“I know from personal experience, my husband is a very passionate man; he’d want a woman, not a girl, for his nocturnal pleasures. You could probably learn something from him. Correction, the lieutenant colonel is probably more your type.” She turned her back to Ross and his party.

Ross heard several muffled chuckles from the guards. No one in uniform would ever dare address him, a colonel, with such contempt. He gritted his teeth. It was the second time she had gotten the better of him.

“Keep going, Mrs. Knight,” he began in a tone promising retribution. “You seem to forget your situation. If I choose, I could end your life with a word.”

Shanda walked away from him and sat on the couch at the far end of her cell.

Ross then turned his focus toward Gray. Anderson activated a series of switches from a master control panel and the clear barrier that served as the outer wall was submerged into the floor. Three of the guards raised their M-16 assault rifles, locking the barrels on the tiny alien.

“If he moves, kill him,” Ross ordered, knowing the alien understood what he was saying.

He then gestured for the fourth soldier to move ahead. The soldier approached the alien, carrying an unusual looking weapon that seemed more at home in the prop room of a science fiction movie set.

“How do we gain access to your spaceship?” Ross asked, purposely speaking slower than necessary.

Gray walked toward the keyboard on his side of his cell, three rifle barrels tracking his every motion. The alien began typing a reply. The characters appeared on the large screen above his outer cell wall. Ross looked up eagerly as the letters materialized.

The response read: I cannot answer your question. I do not fully understand the functions of the vehicle.

Ross shook his head in frustration. He stared at the alien in warning then turned his attention to the soldier carrying the unusual weapon. With a toss of the head toward the alien, he commanded, “Fry it!”

The soldier pointed the emitter node at Gray and depressed the trigger. Four individual micro-filaments of conductive wire shot from the weapon’s barrel and impaled the alien. The soldier pressed another button allowing a surge of electricity to flow from the wires into the hapless prisoner.

Gray’s tiny mouth opened in dismay, and its body shook as the voltage coursed through it. The discharge shocked the alien for three agonizing seconds before the soldier let up on the power button.

“Let me ask you again,” Ross said in a tone ripe with contempt. “How do we access your spaceship?”

Gray’s body was still convulsing, his fingers hesitating as they hovered over the keyboard. When he could, he typed.

The answer read: I cannot answer your question. I do not fully understand the functions of the vehicle.

Ross nodded at the soldier. “Again.”

The electrical discharge seared the helpless alien, and he let out a wail of agony. Its almond eyes shut as his tiny gray body shuddered. After seven seconds of torture, the current ceased, and Gray collapsed to the floor. A white film formed over Gray’s almond black eyes.

“Sir!” Phelps blurted out. “You’re killing him, sir.”

Ross turned on the hapless sergeant. “Stay out of this. Man your post and keep silent.”

Gray slowly got up, plucked the wires from its side and angrily tossed the leads to the ground. His eyes now filled with fury.

“Tell me what I want to know, and you’ll be allowed to live. How do we access your ship?” Ross looked intently at Gray.

Gray remained silent but stumbled to the keyboard and studied the letters and numbers carefully.

He typed: I have been your captive for many months, yet you still cannot find your way back into our vessel since its outer skin refused. You are too primitive in your understanding of even the most rudimentary aspects of space travel to comprehend even the basic workings of that craft.

Gray paused then typed more: I myself do not fully understand how the ship operates and cannot give you the information that you require.

“Can not, or will not?” he asked the alien.

Gray’s answer read: Both terms in your question apply, human.

Ross was close to losing his patience with the upstart captive. “Is it your wish to die, alien?” You came here as an invader and were captured as such. You continue to live at my sufferance; if you don’t tell me what I want to know, I will see to it that the next burst kills you.” Ross paused to let his words register. “Is that what you want?”

Gray hunched over to type his answer and the colonel read the screen: Invader? Human, you are nothing more than a scientific curiosity. We wished only to learn and study your kind and your culture. Had we wished to invade your world, there would have been nothing your kind could do to resist us.

Ross raised an eyebrow with defiance. “We took out your ship with next to no effort, and we captured you with minimal exertion.”

The alien began typing again: It matters little what I say. You will do as you wish.

“Tell me how to open your ship, and you’ll be allowed to continue living.”

Gray didn’t respond, instead he turned his back on the colonel.

“Hit it again,” Ross ordered. The soldier fired four new filaments into the alien and unleashed a searing burst of current into the helpless prisoner. Agonizing seconds passed while the soldier continued to shock his victim.

Gray toppled over and convulsed again.

“For God’s sake, stop!” Shanda screamed from her cell. “You’re killing him!”

The soldier ceased his firing when smoke began rising from the tiny prisoner.

Gray blinked its hazy eyes and the large lenses gradually resumed their inky black color. He whimpered at the immense pain, turning his head toward the colonel. The alien then narrowed his eyes.

* * * *

Suddenly Ross felt the words invade his head.

You are in pain, colonel. Severe pain and agony!

He shook his head and regarded the tiny alien with alarm. The alien was the source; it had somehow marshaled enough strength to utter a telepathic command and push it through the electromagnetic barrier. As much as he could tolerate pain, Ross buckled over and moaned.

Assessing the situation, the soldier with the power to subdue the alien fired the shock cannon again. Gray’s moan was not as loud as the automatic rifle behind the six men.

“Stop it, now!” Phelps shouted as he covered the six men with his rifle. “Put your guns down!”

The four soldiers complied and stepped away from the sergeant.

Ross could barely contain his fury. “Sergeant! What the hell are you doing?”

“Sir, you can’t kill him.” Phelps stepped into the cell, his weapon still trained on the six men.

Gray? Can you sense my thoughts?
Phelps projected. “Please be okay,” the sergeant whispered as he spared a quick glance down at his fallen friend.

“You’ve made your choice, sergeant, now you can die along with him.” Ross gestured toward the camera unit in Gray’s cell and the thick transparent barrier rose from the floor.

Phelps looked down once more at the unmoving alien then at the soldiers and the colonel. Arthur Phelps had taken a stand and stood by Gray, the only sentient creature that had ever shown him kindness. His choice was costing him his freedom. The transparent barrier locked into the ceiling with an ominous boom. He let the M-16 fall from his grip and the weapon clattered on the floor.

The soldiers jumped into action, retrieving their weapons and stared, dumbfounded at the sergeant who willingly chose to put his own life in harm’s way for this pale little creature.

“You’ll regret your choice, sergeant,” Ross said with venom in his voice. He turned to Anderson. “Reverse the air flow, suffocate the bastards!”

Ross looked at the traitorous enlisted man with contempt. “This entire chamber was originally designed and built to simulate the cold vacuum of space. Each of these sub chambers is supposed to be able to meet the same strict requirements. I think it’s time to test that theory.”

* * * *

“You bastard!” Shanda screamed as she pounded on the clear membrane, ignoring the discomforting sensations of the electronic net that encircled her prison. “What kind of man are you?”

Ross pivoted and spat out, “You, Mrs. Knight, would be well advised to shut your mouth. I remind you that both of these cells have the spatial simulation capability. I wouldn’t mind seeing you try to make your wise cracks in a vacuum.”

Ross’s explosion had such venom that she shrank back.

Shanda looked on as Phelps gently picked up the tortured alien and deposited the creature on its small bed. The creature appeared so light! Surely no more than forty pounds in weight. The sergeant propped the alien’s large head with a pillow and fetched some water, then poured a small amount into its mouth.

* * * *

Phelps began experiencing difficulty breathing and he felt disoriented. Damned Ross really was sucking the air out of this chamber. Well, he would not go down without a fight. He struggled over to pick up his weapon and then aimed the muzzle at the clear barrier.