Pit Bulls vs Aliens (14 page)

“Nope,” the general said, “large white ones.”

The colonel opened the envelope and removed the stack of pictures. The first one took his breath away. It was an alien, humanoid in appearance, but huge. The body was pure white. The legs were muscular but shorter in proportion than a human’s. The arms were longer and bulging with muscles. The head was hairless and large, its jaws larger than the cranium, displaying a huge mouth. It wore only a simple garment that covered half the legs and torso, leaving the arms fully exposed. The colonel stared for a long time before looking up. “So, you’re telling me that Earth has been invaded by albino steroid freaks? Are they friendly?”

Every other head at the table shook in unison.

“Hostile?” the colonel asked.

“Very,” the general said. “This is just one of their workers. Go to the next picture to see one of the soldiers.”

The colonel moved the current photo to the bottom of the stack and stared at the next. The creature was the same, only wearing body armor, which covered it from its ankles to its neck. It seemed to be carrying a weapon that looked like a simple piece of wood.

“These guys came in and cleared the entire area that the spikes outlined,” Darren said.

“The entire area of north Panama?” the colonel asked.

The general nodded. “Yes, and it only took them a few days. They terminated every living thing in the area without prejudice.”

The colonel looked hard at the picture. “It looks like the armor only covers the front. Maybe we can use that if we can get behind them or make them run.”

“Maybe,” said the general, “but making them run might prove difficult. A large group of drug dealers took them on and it was a slaughter. The alien’s weapon is far more advanced.”

The colonel looked back at the picture and pointed to the object the alien was carrying. “Are you talking about this two-by-four?”

General Nickerson smiled. “Yes. That two-by-four apparently shoots pure energy and holds approximately twenty-five shots before needing recharging.”

“What does that mean—pure energy?”

“It means, Benjamin,” the general said, “they pull the trigger here, and three hundred feet away the ground explodes like it was hit by a grenade. Anything or anyone in that blast radius is taken out.”

The colonel looked to Darren for verification. He was nodding.

“After they cleared the area of all people and animals, the tops of those spikes illuminated and a protective shield was generated. Only then did the working crews come in,” Darren said.

“That’s right,” the general agreed. “The soldiers simply returned to their transport on the ground for some R & R while the workers used huge dozers and pushed the trees and foliage aside, all the way to each coast. Then large machines were brought in and they started erecting these structures.” He motioned for the colonel to look at the next picture.

Colonel Jamison stared at the photo, which clearly showed the huge buildings already erected. They were complete with doors and windows, and some had huge objects on top that resembled satellite dishes. “So they’re moving right in, are they? Is that it?”

Everyone nodded.

“And judging from the size of their ship,” the general said, “they might go all the way through North America before they’re finished, maybe the entire planet.”

The colonel knew the next question was crazy, probably even moot, but needed to be asked. “Have we tried communicating with them?”

Darren nodded with a solemn look on his face. “Yes, we tried. We have a symbol language based on math that should be universal to any intelligent being. We sent three representatives down to try this approach. The workers simply ignored them and when the shield opened, the soldiers . . . well, it didn’t work, that’s all.”

“Have they moved beyond this initial area?” the colonel asked.

“That’s right,” one of the agents said. “Once this area was completed, which only took a couple of weeks, more spikes fell to the north and the soldiers returned to clear the new area. Trust me; it was much easier this time since almost everyone had fled. The shield then moved northward using the new spikes. The southern point of the shield remains stationary. In other words, the entire operation is slowly headed this way.”

“They’re only advancing northward?” the colonel asked.

The general nodded. “That’s why we need to stop them. The president and Congress have authorized a deployment. I want you to lead this defensive effort. Dr. McNair, Dr. Xie, Dr. Mitchell, and uh . . . Thomas here will be your advisors. You’ll also have marines, regular army, National Guard, and a garrison of the Mexican Army at your disposal. I need you, Benjamin. I need someone who can focus.”

The colonel wondered what that meant but didn’t ask. He had been a successful strategist in the Middle East a decade ago, and had heard the rumors that he didn’t care if he lived or died. He didn’t remember wanting to die, but life had taken on a different meaning after the loss of his daughter. But an alien invasion was a different animal altogether. He wasn’t exactly thrilled to be chosen for this mission, but it was his duty. He replied the only way he knew how. “Yes, sir.”

The steel projectile flew on its own power, its short wings stretched out on each side, a steel dragon waiting to breathe its venomous fire upon impact with its target.

“The nuclear missile is en route, Colonel.”

Colonel Jamison stared down at the wallet in his hand, the picture section flipped open as his thumb traced the outline of the tiny face on the faded snapshot. The summer sun shouted down from heaven, each syllable assaulting the men in uniform until dark sweat stains betrayed every pressed shirt. A drop of sweat fell from the colonel’s forehead and landed on his thumb, the bubble of perspiration neither rolling off the rough texture nor being absorbed into the dry skin, as he continued to caress the face in the picture.

“Colonel?”

He looked up and acknowledged the man. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Lieutenant Williamson nodded, then motioned to a viewing screen on a portable monitor. “We can watch it here, sir.”

The colonel positioned himself in front of the screen but continued looking at the picture in his wallet. He was very broad, and the fatigues only added to his imposing image. A dimple in his generous chin accessorized his chiseled face. Twenty-five years and two wars during his stint as an army officer had hardened him, inside and out, which was augmented by the loss of his daughter. He took the hand with the wet thumb and wiped away the sweat that had accumulated on his scalp, where a whisper of salt-and-pepper color announced the only hair on his head.

“Was that your daughter, sir? I mean . . . is that—”

“It’s okay,” the colonel said as he smiled to reassure the lieutenant. “Yes, this was my daughter, Victoria. We lost her ten years ago. She was four years old.”

The lieutenant, a tall, slender Caucasian man with pointed features and short black hair, nodded. “Is that why you volunteered for this assignment?”

Colonel Jamison looked up in surprise, but he had heard those rumors also. “No, son, I didn’t volunteer. I’m just here to do my duty—same as the rest of us.”

It was hardly an assignment for which to volunteer, perhaps even a suicide mission, but something had to be done if the invasion were to be stopped before reaching the United States. As each area was cleared, more spikes fell from the sky, each time farther north. After each area was completed with new constructions, the alien soldiers returned to clear the way for the workers. To date, nothing had stopped their progress.

Colonel Jamison stared at the screen, the image being provided from long-range cameras on a destroyer in the Caribbean Sea. He could make out the camps of the aliens and see the creatures walking casually about as if they didn’t have a care in the world. The colonel hoped that was about to change.

The metal monster, which had been launched from a Stealth Bomber, sped toward the southern face of the shield. It had been determined that this would be the safest point to detonate a nuclear weapon, since there were no people in the area that had already been claimed. Nicaragua and Costa Rica were now void of humans, and in the southern part of Panama, over 1.5 million people had been evacuated.

“Impact in fifteen seconds,” the lieutenant said.

The colonel took a deep breath. He closed his wallet and returned it to his pocket. He watched the screen with hope. The missile connected with the shield in a brilliant paroxysm, white plumes of poisonous smoke frothing outward into the sky.

“Did it work?” the colonel asked, trying to see through the bright aftermath of the blast.

As the view cleared, it became apparent that the shield had not been damaged at all. The aliens had not even stopped what they were doing to glance upward at the attempted destruction.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the lieutenant said.

The colonel nodded. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pack of Red Man chewing tobacco. It was unopened. As he pulled the top apart and the glue released its grip and the plastic keep-fresh zipper lock spread wide, he thought about the last time he had a chew. It was ten years ago as the war in the Middle East came to a close. That was 2040. He chewed tobacco only when he was at war, and the failure of the nuclear missile just assured him that was his current status. As he placed a wad of the moist dark leaves in his mouth, he immediately felt comforted as the flavor spread through his flesh and along his veins. “How many days before the shield lifts and their soldiers advance?”

“Headquarters predicts two days, sir.”

“I want to see them,” the colonel said. “Get me a jeep.”

“Yes, sir.” Lieutenant Williamson quickly walked away.

The colonel looked left and right at the line of defenses. It was the first time the military had gone back to the woodland camouflage colors since the wars over seven decades ago. But the sand-colored uniforms wouldn’t work here in Central America. That point might be moot since it seemed the enemy had infrared sight, possibly from their mother ship. In the videos he had seen, they always knew where people and even animals were hiding, and eradicated them easily.

As he looked at the faces in his line of sight, he noticed everyone was waiting, although he could see the anxiety in every face. The northern front of the shield now ran almost perfectly along the line where Honduras and El Salvador bordered Guatemala. About twenty miles from the shield, thinly stretched almost two hundred miles from coast to coast, were 100,000 US Marines, 200,000 soldiers of the US Army, 50,000 National Guard members, and another 75,000 members of the Mexican Army. Along with 800 tanks, 200 Apache helicopters, a dozen aircraft carriers in the Pacific Ocean and Caribbean Sea, and at least 10 nuclear subs, the colonel felt confident they could stand their ground against the bigger and more technologically advanced enemy. And if not, they would sure put on a show of firepower.

The lieutenant pulled up in a jeep. “Ready, sir?”

The colonel climbed into the passenger side and the lieutenant navigated along a dirt road through the dense foliage. The windshield was down and the air hitting him in the face brought little appeasement from the sultry atmosphere. Thirty minutes later they came to a clearing and could see the area marked with paint to signify the invisible shield up ahead.

The lieutenant pulled up within twenty feet and stopped. They both got out and walked up to the shield. The alien machines were visible from there. The colonel took his field glasses and zoomed in on the busy scene.

“They’re huge.”

The lieutenant nodded. “Yes, sir, over eight feet tall.”

The colonel marveled at the workers. They looked like giants of fairy tales. They walked upright just like humans, and with all the same parts, but their skin was like leather: tough, thick, and completely white, just like he had seen in the photos. But seeing them in person was something else. They looked like deformed Greek gods. The facial features provided perhaps the most dissimilarity to humans. There were only holes in the sides of the broad heads for ears, and the eyes, nostrils, and mouths were all larger in proportion. And in two days, the soldiers, who were even larger, would emerge from this shield with full body armor, massive guns, and even more massive egos. The colonel spit a large blob of tobacco juice onto the shield. It made a slight sizzling sound as it oozed down the side.

“What do you think, sir?”

The colonel didn’t want to tell him what he thought. He didn’t even want to think it. “Let’s get back,” he said.

As they arrived back at camp, the colonel called for a meeting with the other commanders and advisors, which included Major Strafford from the US Marines, Captain Owens from the National Guard, and General Echevarria from the Mexican Army. He had them meet him in the mobile command center.

“This is nice,” Thomas said as he looked around the command center with its computers and communication devices.

“Shhh,”
Darren said.

As they sat around the table waiting for the latest word, the colonel reached into a duffel bag and pulled out an old unopened bottle of scotch.

“Ah yes, 1972,” the colonel said as he held it up and offered it to the group. “A gift from General Nickerson.”

“Is it that grim, Colonel?” Major Strafford asked.

Colonel Jamison chuckled as he looked at the major while pouring him a drink. He knew the major well, mostly by reputation. His scarred face seemed to be a testament to the rumors of him being an authoritative warhorse. They had certainly chewed on some of the same dirt a decade ago.

After everybody had a drink, it turned serious. “What’s the plan?” Captain Owens asked.

Colonel Jamison looked at everyone in the room before answering. “We have got to show them that the property of this planet is not free. If their MO doesn’t change, just before the shield rises, they’ll launch new spikes about ten to fifteen miles north. We have planes that will fly over and mark that line with dye. That will be the enemy’s goal—to clear that area and build on it. We will be right in between and our goal is even simpler: keep them from obtaining this new ground. As soon as the shield begins to rise, battleships will hit the area with everything they have, followed by fighter pilots from the north, and an Apache regiment will come up from behind. If that doesn’t stop them, well, that’s where we come in.”