Hybrid - Forced Vengeance (39 page)

“I can throttle up a little as long as this tailwind holds up. We can probably pull Mach 2 and still have just enough juice to set this bird down. It may be a little risky.” The pilot turned to him. “Are you game?”

“Kick it up another notch,” Erik replied, adding a nod for good measure.

* * * *

The three remaining M-1 armored tanks and several portable EMP batteries had been deployed outside the Groom Lake facility. The two prototype Mach 6 Phoenix fighters and six F-22 Raptors had been fueled and prepped for launch. Any man or woman who could carry a weapon was armed and deployed – in preparation for the arrival of the alien ground forces. The scientists that had been working on the Nikola Tesla energy beam weapon had managed to salvage one energy coil and retrofit it onto a small ion cannon. This was the most formidable weapon that Groom Lake could bring to bear on the incoming hostiles.

Colonel Ross watched the Hubble telescope feed as the gigantic alien carrier and its remaining escorts hovered a thousand miles out over the Groom Lake installation, seemingly invincible and now untouchable. The Colonel watched another digital feed that displayed the alien ground forces touching down in the desert a handful of miles outside his established defensive perimeter. The imagery was too distorted to make out any distinct features because of the sand storm kicked up by their landing.

Lt. Colonel Bill Anderson was escorted, under guard, into the control center. Ross was aware of his ex-friend’s brilliance in the area of military strategy. He hoped to gain some insights from him despite their differences. Anderson shook his head as he considered the forces laid out before him. He was reluctant to aid Ross in this foolhardy endeavor but his survival instinct kicked in.

“Move those batteries in sectors three and four to higher ground,” he began. “Our tanks are exposed sitting out there like that. We’ve seen what they can do to an M-1 already. Let’s at least get four or five rounds out of these before they’re melted to molten slag.”

“Where do you suggest deploying them?” Ross asked.

Anderson picked up a light pen and began drawing on the digital display. “Based on the area where these ships have touched down, and the topography, they’re going to have to advance between these two sections of higher ground. If we deploy our tanks to these higher points on the rock ledge we can extend their firing range and catch the invaders as they approach. This will provide our tanks with an avenue of escape and cover.”

Anderson feverishly continued drawing lines to represent the movement of forces. “These overhangs are sturdy enough to support the weight of our tanks and will provide some relative protection from retaliatory strikes. I’d want our EMP batteries dug in another hundred meters back, using the training bunkers as cover. I know you have people there but small arms fire will be useless in this kind of fight.” Anderson straightened and looked at Ross.

Ross acknowledged the strategy with a nod and radioed the changes to the deployed forces. Both men looked to the display monitors feeding info from the outermost observation post. All that was left to do was wait. The alien ground forces would make their move and the human military would respond.

Ross and Anderson could see a shiny reflection of sunlight that grew into a foreboding shape.

“Here they come!” Ross whispered.

They could hear the radio chatter among the perimeter forces and the M-1 tank crews as they waited anxiously to commence their attack.

Upon seeing his first images of the alien ground forces, Ross stared at his opponents with awe. The alien machines they were facing were easily three to four stories tall and floated two meters above the sand. Each large craft had five arms that reminded him of tentacles and the tip of each appendage glowed an unearthly greenish hue. Ross knew instinctively that the arms were weapons. Each craft had a chartreuse ocular eye, similar to the one on the probe they had battled earlier. The eerie glowing eyes moved back and forth, continuously surveying the landscape.

Ross counted twenty of these massive craft. A feeling of doom overcame him; he could only speculate on the power system used to suspend craft of such great masses. They never fluctuated in their height despite the uneven terrain beneath them. The sand underneath the vessels shifted and swirled as the craft moved slowly forward. Ross also spotted six spider probes identical to the one they had battled earlier.

As the vessels passed through the gully between the two sand-covered rock ledges, the M-1 tanks opened fire. The explosive shells impacted against the alien hull metal with a display of sparks and fire, scoring several hits. Those alien vessels that were hit buckled slightly but suffered no real damage from the tanks’ modified shells. The probes swung around to respond. The tanks retreated to the backside of the ledges. Several probes fired their energy beams into the overhang, their greenish white beams tearing into the rocky ledge, scattering rock fragments.

A landslide of rock debris resulted, forming a natural wall several feet high, which obstructed the invaders’ path. One M-1 tank advanced from its hiding position and accelerated toward the advancing alien force. The lone M-1 was moving at a fast speed down the sandy gradient while firing EMP rounds as fast as the machine’s autoloader could prep the main gun. Each round scored direct hits on the advancing forces but failed to fatally cripple any of the approaching ships.

“Our tanks are ineffective against their armor,” Anderson observed.

“Call in the fighters,” Ross ordered the communication technician. “Get those tanks some air cover.”

As Ross issued his order, an alien ray vaporized the lone M-1 that had so bravely attacked the advancing forces. Two alien machines pointed their long tentacles at the rock barrier and fired. Their ten greenish white rays covered the rockslide for three seconds and then ceased. The rocks continued to glow and then vaporized bit by bit as the alien energy plasma simply ate away at the molecular structure of the rocks.

The alien vessels advanced again in eerie silence. They reached the end of the gully that led toward the Groom Lake facility.

Anderson pointed to one display. “The heavy EMP batteries are opening up.”

The heavy batteries fired their armor-piercing shells at staggering speeds. Two rounds tore through the lead alien probe. It exploded in a violent ball of greenish blue plasma and flame. The remaining craft hovered through the firestorm, oblivious to the destruction of the lead ship.

Four alien ships paused, then reformed in an offensive wedge in front of the others. The air around the four craft shimmered momentarily and an opaque blister materialized over the lead craft.

The EMP batteries fired once more. The projectiles impacted against the alien force field that wavered and shimmered under the bombardment – but then held firm. The batteries fired again, adjusting their fire to a patterned volley instead of random shots. The first series of projectiles were deflected but the shield wasn’t able to regenerate fast enough to deflect the entire second volley or any of the third volley of EMP fire. Two of the four leading craft toppled over as their engines failed. Another two vessels moved in to the gap created by the destroyed craft.

“Keep firing!” Ross screamed into his headset. “If we let up we’re done for. Don’t give them time to regroup!”

Overhead the fighter jets began their first attack run. Kinetic energy missiles and high yield Maverick missiles slammed into the alien shielding with only a negligible effect. The F-22s were able to bank after their first pass and fired a volley into the unprotected rear of the enemy ranks, wreaking havoc on two spider-like probes.

The two remaining M-1 tanks launched an attack at the enemy’s flank, constantly firing rounds into the tightly packed group of alien hardware. Bill Anderson’s deployment was truly a work of genius. He had allocated the limited forces with such perfection that Groom Lake was able to keep the alien forces hemmed in, inside the shallow rock gulley and not allow them ample time to gather their strength to effectively deploy their superior offensive force.

The fighter bombardment continued as each F-22 dove at near supersonic speed and strafed the hemmed in craft with missiles and kinetic energy rounds.

“We just might hold ‘em, Art!” Anderson said, caught up in their stunning success so far.

The Observers counterattacked with lethal force. Upon some issued command the forward machines raised their tentacles and fired simultaneously. Twenty beams of destruction washed over the Groom Lake defenses obliterating everything in their path. The bunkers and the EMP batteries withered into oblivion and the sand beneath them fused into glass.

The deployed squadron of F-22 Raptors was vaporized on their next strafing attack run. Angry blobs of red energy engulfed each aircraft, vaporizing them in mid flight. The spider-like probes moved toward the two remaining M-1 tanks that tried to outrun the dispatched deadly energy weapons. But they could not flee fast enough and were quickly melted into molten slag by the alien’s deadly ocular-beam weapon.

Colonel Ross’s mouth dropped open in stunned dismay. He watched as the aliens advanced with only one ion cannon standing in their way. He turned to Anderson.

“What do I do, Bill? How in the hell do I stop these invaders?”

“I don’t think we can, Art. Call off the other air strikes; we’ll only get more good pilots killed.”

“I’ll call Washington. They’ll have to nuke this entire facility.” Ross reached for a phone.

Anderson put a hand on Ross’s arm. Ross turned to him and Anderson said, “Art, they can’t. That big mother ship is still in orbit, out of our reach, and God only knows what other horrors they can throw at us in retaliation for launching a nuclear strike.” Anderson shook his head.

Ross sighed heavily and released the phone nodding. “You’re right, Bill. Officer of the watch, get me NORAD.”

Just as Ross had requested the connection, the alien force commenced another attack. Their remaining sixteen large craft and their probes slowly and methodically circled the base. When the outskirts of Groom Lake had been surrounded, the alien force headed toward the center of the base wiping out anything in their path.

A few brave soldiers managed to fire three bursts with the Tesla ion cannon, each burst effectively destroying a large war machine but the soldiers simply didn’t have enough time; three green lances of energy touched their battery, destroying it along with several buildings next to the cannon.

After only ten short minutes, Groom Lake was awash in a sea of fire. The only protection left was in the command facilities and in other sections housed several stories beneath the desert floor.

“There’s nothing left topside,” the only female technician in the command center reported, as tears fell down her face. “They’ve destroyed everything. It’s all one big mass of fire and debris.”

“How many personnel made it below ground into the shelters?” Ross asked.

“From the last report, sir, only sixty percent of our personnel have been accounted for,” the female technician answered as she studied the data display on her terminal.

Ross wiped the sweat from his brow and ran his hands through his hair. “Damn it,” he swore. “I didn’t want this.”

“What did you expect, Art?” Anderson slumped into a nearby chair. “You started this war. You gave this race of beings no other choice but to attack.”

“I was saving our planet, Bill. I thought that a show of force would keep them at bay.”

“You have a child of theirs prisoner, and they know it. Did you expect them to just give up?”

Ross looked over at the monitor as it displayed the absolute destruction of the Groom Lake facility then shook his head. “I just don’t know anymore,” he said, sighing heavily.

“Colonel Ross!” the radar operator screamed. “We have one F-22B Raptor entering our airspace.”

* * * *

The Raptor pilot banked his jet and viewed the flaming wasteland that was once Area 51.

“Holy shit, there’s nothing left,” the pilot reported into his headset.

Erik’s stomach knotted as the jet made another low altitude pass. “Shanda,” he whispered. He detected her presence, but recognized the fear-laden weight within her essence.

“Can you land somewhere?” Erik asked the pilot.

“The runway’s been blown to rubble. But this bird is armed, and I’m going to blast our friends back into orbit.”

“No! You’ll only get yourself killed.”

“What do you suggest then, Agent Knight?”

“Aim the jet to crash into one of those things, lock the controls and then bail out.”

“What about you?” the pilot asked with a concerned tone.

“Don’t worry about me,” Erik replied. “Get yourself down there and stay hidden.”

The pilot shrugged. “It’s your ticket, but Uncle Sam’s not gonna be too happy about losing the plane.” The pilot prepped the controls.

“Uncle Sam has bigger fish to fry right now than the loss of one plane. It’s my call and my responsibility. Make it happen and get the hell outta here.”

“You’re the boss,” the pilot replied as he locked the jet’s coordinates on the nearest alien craft.

Erik focused his mind on the elemental molecules that surrounded the swiftly moving jet. He ionized the air mass around the jet and waited. The canopy blew off and the pilot ejected.

“It’s show time,” he muttered his hand grasping the sentient staff. “I am the warrior!” he shouted as his body grew, splitting sutures on his flight suit and snapping off the restraining harness.

Erik Knight, the hybrid, focused harder on the ionization he’d created around the aircraft. By force of will he bound the ions together in a dense tight packet around the falling plane. The alien craft fired an energy beam toward the plane. The greenish-white beam collided with the ionized wall and dissipated. The jet slammed into the craft with an explosive force that wiped out two other constructs within a hundred feet of the explosion.

As the blast dissipated, his seven-foot silver frame stood unscathed within the blast’s core. He still held his staff that glowed with angry aqua radiance. When Erik looked up at his ominous opponents there was no fear in those burning eyes. He had the look of a being that needed to exact a long-overdue punishment and had selected the large craft to be on the receiving end of his discipline.