004: Part 1
by CM Towns
The private jet touched down on the airstrip of an unlisted military base in Texas. A joint base for Army and Air Force personnel that was being used to store alien weaponry and machines as well as antiquities of questionable background. The jet was settling in as six armed soldiers stood at the ready with their commanding officer, CAPT. EVERETT, waiting the presence of their guests. Everett was a decorated soldier who stood only at five foot eight with a lean build, graying hair, pasty complexion and a stone face. The captain had been on the frontline during the second armada invasion and has become a “go to” figure when dealing with superhuman and alien crimes.
The stairs popped out the jet, came down and out walked another armed soldier. He stepped down first. Behind him an Army Colonel holding a briefcase followed by another soldier. The Colonel was a olive skinned bald man with glasses and a gut hanging out. He coughed as he walked down and Everett was reminded he did not much care for this man.
“Colonel,” said the Captain with a salute.
“No need for that,” the Colonel said.
“I assume that is the item?” asked the Captain.
“Of course it is.”
The Captain signaled and a pair of soldiers got into one of the two jeeps and the Captain walked with the Colonel over to a second jeep.
“I still think it was a bad idea to go by a private jet,” the Captain said.
“I didn’t. Its much more comfortable and better suited to use under our enemies noses,” he responded.
“HEY!!!” one soldier shouted behind them.
The Colonel and the Captain turned to see one of the Colonel’s soldiers making a break for it. Everett did not like that. He shouted out but his voice was drowned by a sudden barrage of blasts from above. They first hit the nearby fighter jets and private private jet before moving on to the jeeps. A few soldiers were able to avoid the attack and they attempted counter-fire on the SFV that hovered above and were soon joined by a handful more soldiers coming out the nearby hangars. The round, circular flier hovered and the bottom hatch opened with five armed and masked men descending on wires. Three fired upon the soldiers with high powered laser rifles and once they all unlatched the fourth man moved over bodies and the destruction into position to fire upon an incoming transport using an RPG. One gunman, a towering individual walked through the chaos with Magnum in hand delivering head shot after head shot on injured soldiers who survived the initial assault. The man walked toward the Colonel, bleeding from where his left arm use to be, shot him in the head and grabbed his case. Everett looked on from a few yards away, horrified. He himself was barely able to dodge the same blast that took out the Colonel. The impact of that shot sent him spiraling away onto the ground and knew the instinctively he had bruised ribs.
The masked man turned to the Captain, dropped his gun and took out a dagger as he approached.
He said in English, “Fear. Get use to it now that your military grows impotent.” He left the dagger laying on Everett’s chest and turned away. His accent was Spanish-Mexican-in origin even muffled behind the mask. That’s one thing Capt. Everett noted as he was on the ground, looking up at the man. That and his terrible mask; white, covering the mans face but open around the mouth and at the forehead a red dot, bleeding down across the face. Everett grabbed the weapon and sat up to watch the man walk away. The attacker latched back to the wires and were retracted into the flier which flew off in a westward direction.
Capt. Everett pulled himself up with the dagger in hand. He reached into his uniform for his cellular phone. He saw more men arriving and he shouted to check for survivors and to tend to the injured.
“I need you to patch my into our mutual friend,” Everett said.
In Maryland, the former Secretary of Defense George Blackwell sat with his beautiful wife, LONETTE, watching the TV. The pair were catching up on episodes of a dramatic series they enjoyed.
“Jack is just being a total… Jackass,” Blackwell said.
“I hope Barbara catches his cheating ass and beats him upside his head,” Lonette added.
“That would be good TV,” he said. The former SecDef was enjoying a quiet day with his wife of two decades. A tall rich brown skinned beauty who once played college basketball and a Ms. Black South Carolina. She had a wide smile as she laughed at her husbands dumb jokes about the show they were watching.
Blackwell’s attention turned to his cell. The cell phone was his emergency line and was only to be texted in case of serious circumstances.
“That’s not good,” Lonette commented as she paused the show.
Blackwell checked the text and got up saying, “I’ll be right back.” Blackwell walked out the TV room, turned around the staircase down the hall to the far end where his office was located. He opened it, closed the door, and locked it. His office was filled with bookcase after bookcase of everything from military history to the newest scientific studies. There were pictures of his family, his friends, and framed accommodations of diplomas and awards. There were trophies and sports memorabilia. There was also his desk with its computer, files, and his main cellphone. Blackwell did not need that one-he needed one of his others. He took out a key to unlock a bottom drawer of the desk where there were three cells. Two were burners and the third a phone provided by the Guard. Blackwell took one of the burner phones and made the call.
“Who is this?” asked the worried voice on the other line.
“It’s me, Captain,” Blackwell answered.
“Give me a second,” Capt. Everett said.
A few minutes passed and he returned, “General, I have some news of extreme importance.”
“Another attack on a military base?”
“Yes. They came in by a flier that I have never seen before. It was not detected by our radar and equipped with high powered energy weapons,” he replied.
“Anything about this attack to give us a clue to our enemy?”
“It’s the Daga Cartel.”
Blackwell was silent for a moment. “You’re kidding, right?”
“One of the men spoke. I know a Mexican when I hear one. Plus he looked familiar-could’ve sworn I had seen him on a most wanted list. On top of this he gave me a dagger. If that’s not enough we’ve located a soldier who fled before the attack-we believe he was their inside man,” Everett explained.
“Knowing the Cartels methods I bet he was blackmailed with threats to his family. What was taken this time?”
“I don’t know the specifics but it was described as an orb. An alien drive perhaps,” he answered.
“The other items that have been stolen over the last few months are still classified. You think you can shake some info on those attacks?” inquired Blackwell.
“I can try but you might want to press other friends. There is only so much I can find out,” Everett advised.
“You do what you can. I’ll contact you from this number in two days time. I’ll need as much information as possible before going forward to associates that can help,” Blackwell said.
“That’s what I needed to hear. I’ll talk to you soon,” Everett said before hanging up.
Blackwell turned off the phone and he put it back in the drawer, closed and locked it. He turned on his computer and for the next few minutes he looked up news on the Daga Cartel until there was a knock at his door.
Blackwell got up, announced, “Be right there,” and made his way to the door to unlock it.
Lonette walked in and looked him over. “Bad?”
“It could have been worst, but it is bad.”
Lonette watched her husband walk over to his desk and take his seat. Lonette took one of the seats across from the desk and watched her husband look to the ceiling.
“The Daga Cartel is on the move,” he said.
Lonette shook her head. “Reina and Sprite are not going to take that lightly.”
“I know. They had been monitoring certain situations but have kept hands off to allow local forces and agencies to do their thing. As well as the Mexican military but now its clear the Daga Cartel have some sort of plans going beyond just drugs, weapons, and beefing with other syndicates and families. They are retrieving classified items. They have grown in strength far faster than our reports suggested,” Blackwell said.
“The Guard has done good over the last few months. They crippled the Teiwaz’s US operations. The Mummy in Pennsylvania and the problems in Kirby,” she reminded him.
Blackwell knew that each of those cases brought further complications but did not want to speak to his wife about it. Those details were extremely hush hush. “I hate sending children to fight wars,” he finally said.
“I know,” replied Lonette.
“I need to make calls and start a report. I’ll try to get it done in an hour then how about we order in and finish those episodes?” he suggested.
Lonette smiled and said, “Sounds good.” She got up, walked around the desk, kissed him and then made her way out. Blackwell waited until she was out the room before he got to work.