SECTOR 64: Ambush (17 page)

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Authors: Dean M. Cole

BOOK: SECTOR 64: Ambush
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The bow of the ship was an enormous reptilian bust, the sculpted visage of an alien head. Arranged similar to a human's, it had a pair of eyes that burned with the ferocity of a rabid dog. Instead of a nose, two dark slits formed an irregular V-shaped central orifice. Below that, its mouth sported snarling drawn-back scaled lips that looked razor sharp. By themselves, the exposed teeth would have chilled anyone's blood. However, the source of Jake's horror lay trapped in the alien's mouth.

Frozen in the act of consumption, the monster's fangs crunched into an obviously human skull. Clamped in the alien's jaw, the skull hung at an angle. The beast's upper right fang penetrated through the top of its cranium. Cracks radiated out from the puncture. Below, the lower left fang dug into the skull's chin.

Judging by the size of the bust relative to the visible ports and catwalks, it was as big as a sports arena yet constituted the smallest part of the overall ship.

Richard broke the shocked silence. "Shit!" He rushed to the communications panel. Toggling the transmit command, he spoke with a shaky voice. "Space Control, this … this is Turtle One, over."

"Turtle One, this is Space Control. We've had a … uh … situation develop."

"Roger, Space Control, we see it," Richard said, nodding at Jake.

"Turtle, a few minutes after you passed out of radio range, an unscheduled and unknown fleet exited parallel-space approximately fifty thousand miles above the planet. All attempts to contact them have gone unanswered."

While Captain Allison reported, Jake shrunk the image, bringing Earth's surface into the display. The fleet was closer to the planet. He pointed at the
Turtle's
red walls. "Tell them about that."

Richard nodded. "Space Control, be advised, the
Turtle's
computers have identified the fleet as hostile!" Richard reported, stress cracking his voice. "And, judging by their external appearance, I have to agree."

"Roger, Turtle One. As soon as we saw the first pics, we came to the same conclusion. The President has been notified."

Studying the planet through the view-wall, Jake felt his adrenaline ratchet up another notch. Turning to his fellow airmen, he said, "They're heading toward North America!"

"Turtle One, radar reports the formation is splitting up. Can you confirm."

Jake turned back to the hologram, reaching in he magnified the image. The fleet differentiated into individual ships. He studied the image for a moment. "They are." With each ship on a slightly different vector, the alien formation was fanning out. "Not quickly, but they have moved apart."

Richard forwarded the confirmation.

"Captain Allison, this is General Tannehill. Thanks for your reports. They're still not replying to our calls. So, based on the
Turtle's
reaction, and what we're seeing on the front of those damn things, the President has agreed with the Joint Chiefs' recommendation that we attack while the alien formation is still grouped together." The general paused. "I suggest you hold back for the time being."

Jake couldn't believe how quickly the situation was devolving. In the space of a few minutes, they'd gone from sightseeing over the Moon to all-out war with an unknown alien race.

Frustration joined the myriad emotions coursing through Jake. "I wish this thing was armed!"

Richard nodded. "Me too." He neutralized the
Turtle's
velocity, parking it a quarter of the distance from Earth to the Moon. Hopefully, far enough out to remain unnoticed yet close enough to permit safe observation of the coming events.

Above the night side of the planet, Jake saw the thin arcing trail of a missile rising from central North America. A moment later, multiple missile signatures lifted from points all over the globe. Like yearning skeletal fingers, numerous rocket plumes reached for the approaching alien fleet.

"Here they come," Victor said with an expectant breathless awe.

While he watched the missiles rise toward their targets, several blindingly bright threads of light bore into the alien formation, yanking Jake from his veneration.

With dawning realization, he cheered. "Go, Star Wars!"

Goose bumps rose as he witnessed the deployment of a top-secret space-based laser defense system. Officially, Clinton had killed Reagan's Strategic Defense Initiative or SDI in the nineties. However, the blazing beams originating from numerous points in space and burning into the alien fleet proved that assertion false.

"I didn't know it had been deployed," Victor said.

"Me neither," Richard said.

Jake returned his attention to the ballistic attack. He pumped his fist, willing the missiles toward their targets. "Come on!"

As they neared, his elation faltered. Even from this distance, Jake could see the laser beams stopping short of the asteroids. Terminating against some kind of forcefield, each laser strike illuminated a sphere around the targeted ship. The asteroidal vessels sat unmolested within the bubbles.

A brilliant light flooded the
Turtle's
cabin.

"Shit!" Jake screamed. He threw an arm across his face in a belated effort to block out the blinding nuclear blast.

"It's ok, it auto-dimmed," Richard announced.

Lowering his arm, Jake tried to blink away the afterimage of the nuclear inferno. He helped Vic up from the floor.

Several more flashes strobed through the darkened view-wall as dozens of nuclear warheads slammed into their targets. Eerie silence belied the ferocity of the attack.

"Thank god for auto-dimming. We'd be three blind mice without it," Jake said.
Should have anticipated that,
he chastised himself.

Not able to see much through the view-wall, Jake turned to the holographic display. However, it had dissolved into a distorted storm of colors. Apparently, interference from the nuclear pulses rendered it useless. Looking for the fleet, Jake turned his attention outside. As the nuclear maelstrom's luminosity subsided, the view-wall slowly reverted to its normal clarity.

Shattering the silence, the radio crackled to life. General Tannehill's voice, full of anticipation, echoed through the ship. "Turtle One, do you have a visual on the target. Can you give us a damage assessment?"

Jake toggled the comm panel. "Roger, Control. We're trying to see through the afterglow now."

"Good copy, Turtle One. We're standing by."

Jake studied the surreal scene. Earth filled the left half of the view-wall. On the right, like a tiny new sun orbiting the planet, a roiling plasma ball had replaced the enemy fleet.

Over several seconds, the apparent diameter of the radiant sphere shrank to the size of the enemy formation. The three of them cheered, pumping their fist. It looked like all that was left of the alien fleet was a brightly glowing cloud of debris.

Jake actuated the comm panel. Excitement raising his voice an octave, he shouted over Victor and Richard's cheers. "Control! It looks like—" He cutoff mid-sentence as the dimming cloud resolved into individual glowing spheres. Within each sat an undamaged asteroidal ship.

Each forcefield dimmed as the fleet continued unabated toward the planet.

Now too far apart to be attacked en masse, the ships continued to fan out, heading to all corners of the globe.

Deafening silence fell across the
Turtle's
cabin.

Jake shook his head. "Fuck!" He actuated the comm panel. "Control, the weapons were ineffective."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Sandy laid on the horn, narrowly avoiding the SUV that had pulled in front of her. The leaf-lined canyon walls formed by the tall, narrow trees that lined the approach to Nellis Air Force Base, sped past in a green blur.

The words blaring from the radio broke through Sandy's shock. "More reports are coming in." The announcer sounded as astounded as Sandy felt. "Amateur astronomers are reporting an incoming swarm of asteroids." He paused, and Sandy heard shuffling paper. "This is incredible! The reports claim the asteroids are in an organized formation."

Sandy didn't know if that were true. Although, she had reason to believe it. In the early morning darkness, she pushed the Vette up to one hundred miles per hour. The streetlights that illuminated the empty road flashed past. Her rapid progression through their glowing footprints created a rhythmic strobing effect inside the car.

An early morning call had woken her. Two seconds after answering, she was wide-awake. She would remember the duty officer's words for the rest of her life.

"This is an emergency recall."

Throwing the covers back, she had leapt from the bed. "Emergency recall?" Instantly awake, she ran to her closet. Flipping on the light, she yanked down a flightsuit. "Is it a terrorist attack?"

"Aliens and, no, I am not joking. Just get your ass to the squadron, ASAP!" Apparently remembering she was talking to a superior officer, the lieutenant on the phone belatedly added, "Ma'am."

Sandy froze. Mouth agape, she stared at the phone. A triple beep indicated the duty officer had hung up. She knew Lieutenant Janus well enough to rule out a prank. The woman had no sense of humor. Besides, a prank of that nature, utilizing official channels, would land her in extremely hot legal water.

Shaking off the trance, Sandy dropped her iPhone on the closet's carpeted floor and jumped into her flightsuit. Five minutes later she had the phone back in hand and was on the road.

As she approached the Nellis gate, she heard more paper shuffling over the radio. "Are you sure?" the radio announcer said, apparently addressing someone in the studio. After a moment, she heard him whisper. "Holy shit." Without pausing to address the broadcasted expletive, he continued. "Folks, I've just been passed a report that some astronomers are reporting that the leading side of each asteroid has an alien face carved or … sculpted into the rocky body."

Sandy activated her phone's voice dial feature. "Call Jake's mobile." Without ringing her call went directly to voicemail. Terminating the call she pressed the button again. "Call Asshole's mobile," using the name she had half-jokingly assigned to Richard's contact. It too went directly to voicemail.

"Shit!"
Where the hell are you guys?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"Charge the main weapon," Commodore Salyth ordered.

The shields surrounding the Forebearer's Retribution flared as another directed energy beam reached out from an Argonian satellite. He turned an irritated eye toward the attacking weapon. "Humans, earthlings, whatever these creatures want to call themselves—they're still Argonians—their pathetic nuclear weapons failed, yet they persist with these ineffective energy beams!"

He watched with annoyed satisfaction, as the ship's return-fire obliterated the offending machine.

However, the quick resolute way these humans responded to his obvious intentions impressed him. He knew that had the Argonian defense forces responded as decisively, the Zoxyth's initial attacks would have failed, terminating the war to avenge the Forebearer's before its birth.

The shields flared again as the ship plowed into the atmosphere, leaving a roiling trail of superheated plasma in its wake. For hundreds of miles along the path to their primary target, a tremendous supersonic shockwave blew over trees and structures.

Each of the sixteen ships headed toward the planet's largest and most strategically important cities. Major capitals topped the list. For Salyth's ship, this planet's most powerful capital lay ahead.

According to their intelligence, this country's government was the first the Argonians contacted.
And, it will be the first the Zoxyth contact!
He swore.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Like a scene out of a World War II movie, the pilots of Sandra's fighter squadron burst from their briefing room at a sprint. Running at full speed across Nellis Air Force Base's flight line, each pilot headed to their assigned fighter.

Sandy's head was spinning. She still couldn't believe what she'd just heard and seen. An hour ago, a fleet of alien ships had appeared in near space. They had not flown in or approached from the dark side of the Moon. They had simply popped into existence 50,000 miles above the equator.

A Chilean telescope happened to be pointed at that part of the sky when the fleet had materialized. One moment, the astronomer was studying a star above the eastern horizon, the next, it disappeared. At first he'd thought a sensor had failed. However, when he checked the telescope's systems, he found all in working order. Selecting a wide-angle lens revealed the obscuring body as one of a group of fuzzy objects. Changing the focal length brought the formation into perfect clarity.

Evenly spaced, it was not a naturally occurring collection of asteroids. However, with the exception of their forward section, an asteroid, or more accurately a collection of asteroids, is exactly what each of the sixteen objects looked like.

It was this military-like spacing along with the visage sculpted into the forward section of each of the sixteen asteroidal ships that had governments around the globe spooling up their weapons of Armageddon.

During the emergency prelaunch briefing, Sandy learned that the aliens batted away every attempt to fend off their advance as easy as a horsetail swats a fly. Even nuclear weapons had not slowed them.

Perhaps the most disturbing and incomprehensible part of the crazy events lay in the mouth of the sculpted alien face. While its curved-back pointed ears, scaled skin, and razor-thin lips drawn back to reveal menacing fangs were obviously alien, the skulls clenched in their gnashing teeth were very terrestrial. Amongst the sixteen ships observers had spotted slight variations in the stony alien visages, much like the subtle difference from one human to the next. The faces each had apparently been modeled after specific individuals within the alien's race. However, the skulls occupying all sixteen mouths were unmistakably human.

Now, one headed toward San Francisco.

How could a race we've never met hate us that much?

Arriving at her assigned F-22, Sandy scrambled up the boarding ladder. Levering against the stand's top rail, she gracefully slid feet first into the cockpit. Having climbed up behind her, the crew chief helped with the harness, helmet, and oxygen mask.

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