Dragon Over Washington (The Third War Of The Bir Nibaru Gods) (31 page)

Agent Graham laughed.

Thorpe walked into his cubicle. There was an email from Andy. He had sent the partial translation of the message from the flat in New York City that the Maryland University professor was able to provide. The words seemed to burn on the screen.

“My hand shall touch the earth and will set you free. Follow the path of the storm.”

Thorpe glanced up at the blackboard. He checked the watch on his computer and updated the deadline: five weeks and three days left.

Thorpe’s smartphone showed a small, blinking envelope sign. It was a message from Roger. Thorpe picked up the smartphone and left his cubicle without even glancing at the screen.

Day 15 after Earth Barrier Breach.

Endicott Airport, Tioga County, New York State, United States. Monday, 22:10.

“Thorpe, we’re ready to go.”

“Okay, right. No problem. Let me get this crate off my table. Right. There was a satellite pass half an hour ago. I can see some infrared tracks near a ravine, southeast of Bellyache Mountain.”

“Roger. Target assessment?”

“Umm. Well, I think there’s at least one over there, somewhere.”

“We need exact target location.”

“I can’t give you exact target location,” Thorpe seemed exasperated. “They are moving too fast and seem to get better at evading the satellite. I have to leave the office. Use your Predator and your eyes.”

“Roger.”

“Yeah, okay. Oh, and you better take that Benson character with you.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Come on man, I know you’re there,” Thorpe said. “You’ve got to take him with you.”

“This is an NSA operation, Thorpe.”

“Look! There’s something about that guy. I watched the videos from the farm. Speaking about the videos, did you see the size of the jaws that thing had? I’m sure glad I’m not going anywhere near that thing. We are thinking about scientists who can help us. They’ve turned down two biologists already for security reasons. The department and its secrecy,” Thorpe spat. “Anyway, the guy has some kind of connection to that thing. That’s all you’ve got for now.”

“We cannot afford to guard him during this kind of airlifted operation.”

“Agent Mathew, be reasonable. Like I said, I watched the videos. That thing came through the farm’s building right towards him.”

“It came at us after we shot it.”         

Thorpe sighed.           

“Did you see what it did to the cow? What do you thing it would have done to you if that dude hadn’t been there?”

Mathew said nothing.

“Exactly. It came right at him and then let him touch it. I’m telling you, there’s something about that dude. You better have him with you.”

“Roger that.”

“Good luck.”

***

Benson ambled over to his boulder, surreptitiously looking over his shoulder in a manner that would have made every soldier in the base highly suspicious. However, nobody saw him and he reached the boulder safely.

He looked around him. A new spotlight installed right near the boulder on a long metal pole threw a beam of light into the grassy meadow ahead.

“Peace, man,” Benson murmured, looking at the damage from the fight of the creatures the previous night. Deep furrows were everywhere in the ground. Two trees lay smashed, their branches still smoking.

Benson looked around, but the little lizards were nowhere to be seen. He lit a cigarette, but no little squeak sounded. Benson put his hands inside his jacket pockets, grimacing. He didn’t like wearing a military jacket, but he was cold. He sat down, his back to the boulder, his eyes half closed.

Some time later, a belabored squeak made Benson open his eyes. He searched for the lizards, but for a moment he couldn’t see anything. Then he turned from the grassy meadow ahead to the base behind him. The little lizards were there, working hard to drag an army rations package with them. Four of them had their teeth in the package, and were walking backwards pulling the package. The other lizards moved around, guarding them, their little eyes darting everywhere. The cheeky lizard with the broken tail actually stood on the package, making noises at the four dragging lizards as if encouraging them.

“Hey, I can help,” Benson murmured, extending his hand towards the lizards, but one lizard stepped forward, hissing menacingly. It jumped and snapped at Benson’s hand. Benson took his hand away before the lizard’s tiny teeth sank into it. The lizard kept station between Benson and the package of rations. It had a thick body with a tail almost two times thicker than the other lizards. It also had a tiny crest of bones.

A few moments later, the lizards had managed to carry their package behind Benson’s boulder. There they attacked the package with claws and teeth, slowly tearing through its tough plastic cover. Finally, the largest lizard was able to open it, but then the thick-bodied lizard mounted the package and hissed the other lizards away, its color an angry red. It waited a moment, making sure the others kept their distance from the rations, and then it tore into the steak, tearing tiny chunks and gulping them down, raising its head up to swallow like a tiny alligator.

The cheeky lizard waited and darted in just as the thick-bodied lizard was swallowing. The cheeky lizard escaped with its prize, a candy bar, while the thick-bodied lizard chased it, hissing angrily, its fangs snapping at it. The smaller cheeky lizard went some distance away and started tearing into the wrapping, munching at the chocolate inside, its broken tail wagging behind it. It sneezed, projecting a tiny stream of fire.

“Benson!”

Benson jumped as a flashlight shone right into his eyes, blinding him.

“There you are. We’ve been looking all over for you. My name is Sergeant Montoya. You must come with us.”

“Hey, Sarge! Look at this!” A soldier exclaimed.

Benson, his heart pounding, watched as the soldier shone his flashlight into the area behind his boulder, exposing the ripped rations package. Yet there were no lizards to be seen.

“Forget it, Reimer. Come on, let’s go.”

The soldiers grabbed Benson and moved off. Benson looked back, seeing tiny green eyes staring at him as the candy bar was slowly dragged away.

A wind storm buffeted Benson, blowing his borrowed jacket behind him. He held his hands over his ears as a strong, rhythmic noise assaulted him. Benson blinked, trying to peer ahead through the dust storm. The soldiers were moving him towards three black helicopters resting in a clearing, their rotors spinning slowly.

He stopped, but the soldiers were adamant.

“Please come with us, sir!” Montoya shouted.

Benson was dragged aboard one of the choppers, too dazed to resist. They made him sit on an uncomfortable plastic bench and strapped him in. Sergeant Montoya placed a helmet over Benson’s head, which reduced the helicopter’s noise.

“Are you all right, sir?”

The voice rumbled inside Benson’s head.

“Sir, are you all right?”

Benson saw Montoya looking at him, talking into a microphone in his own helmet.

“I’m okay,” Benson said.

Montoya smiled and Benson looked around him. He was in the helicopter’s large cabin. He saw the two pilots in the front, flicking switches and holding their flight sticks tightly. The faint light in the helicopter’s cabin illuminated several soldiers heavily armed with assault rifles and armored vests, sitting comfortably and checking their weapons and ammunition magazines. Sergeant Montoya was strapped to a seat at the cabin’s left opening, next to a large machine gun. At the right opening was another soldier checking the ammunition belts going into his machine gun from crates bolted to the floor.

“This is Alpha, troops are on.” The sharp, metallic voice in Benson’s headphones made his ears ring. He glanced up, seeing an officer sitting facing him.

“Blackbird Echo, ready.”

“Blackbird Foxtrot, ready.”

“Blackbird Delta, ready.”

“This is Agent Mathew. Raptor?”

Benson winced. He knew agent Mathew.

“Raptor is ready.”

“Mission is a go. Repeat, mission is a go,” Agent Mathew barked.

Benson felt the helicopter shake and its engine noise intensify. His world suddenly tilted and he convulsively grabbed his seat and a metal brace near him for support. Benson’s eyes widened. He saw the ground drop beneath him, the base’s fence and spotlights down below glowing in the darkness till they disappeared. Benson watched the Flattops Mountains move beneath him, dark trees and small hills flashing in the dark.

“Blackbirds, turn left to a heading of zero forty five.”

“Blackbird Foxtrot, turning now.”

“Blackbird Echo, roger.”

“All Blackbirds, make for maximum speed,” Agent Mathew commanded.

“This is Alpha. Be advised, maximum speed shortens our loitering time,” the officer opposite Benson said.

“We have a short timeframe before the target disengages,” Agent Mathew said.

Benson’s stomach lurched as the helicopter turned and all he could see for a moment was a white cloud above him. Benson put his hand over his mouth, trying to keep his stomach contents down. He watched the soldiers around him relaxing, two of them chewing gum. Montoya sat comfortably in his seat, looking down calmly as his legs dangled over the edge of the helicopter’s cabin.

“Wild ride, man,” Benson murmured as the helicopter righted itself and Benson’s stomach started to relax. Montoya grinned at him and gave him the thumbs up. It took some time, but Benson slowly started to enjoy the ride, especially the cold sharp wind in his face. The faint, flickering light in the helicopter cabin allowed Benson to look down and watch the forest passing below them, the hills getting higher and higher, and the craggy granite rocks growing taller.

“Hey man -” Benson stopped talking, seeing everyone in the helicopter turn to him. Sergeant Montoya put his hand over the microphone in his helmet and Benson copied him. Everyone could hear what he said into the microphone.

“Hey man,” Benson yelled, trying to be heard over the rhythmic sound of the engines, “Where are we going?”

Montoya didn’t say anything, just grinned and swung his heavy machine gun around, holding it lovingly.

“We’re going to get some! We’re hunting one of the things that came to that farm!” Sergeant Montoya yelled and Benson blanched. Montoya’s grin widened and he operated the bolt on his machine gun.

“Don’t worry! This is an M60 machine gun, with M993 tungsten armor-piercing rounds. It won’t get away from us this time!”

Benson shook his head slowly and looked down at the cabin’s floor.

“Blackbird Delta, we’ve got a possible target, two clicks to the northeast,” a woman’s cold voice said.

“Roger that, Raptor,” Agent Mathew answered.

The helicopters swung around, but the sinking feeling in Benson’s stomach had nothing to do with the flight. His eyes were now glued to the ground below, looking and searching every shadowed movement.

“Blackbirds, hold position,” Agent Mathew commanded. “Raptor, no joy. We don’t have the target in sight.”

“Blackbird Delta, standby. Commencing alternate camera switching,” the woman said tersely.

“They’ll find it now,” the soldier manning the machine gun on the right side opening of the helicopter shouted, muffling his microphone.

“Take it easy, Reimer,” Sergeant Montoya shouted back. “We’ll get it this time.”

Benson, his face pale, looked from one side of the cabin to the other, trying to see the ground below.

“Relax. You’re safe with us,” Sergeant Montoya said, but Benson ignored him.

“Blackbird Delta, we have the target. Transmitting coordinates now.”

“Roger, Raptor. Blackbird Echo, spotlight. Blackbird Foxtrot, infrared light,” Agent Mathew replied.

Suddenly Benson gasped. A long beam of light from the lead helicopter to the earth cut the night’s darkness. On the ground, a heavy reptilian head on a long serpentine neck turned to snarl at the spotlight that had blown away its cover. The reptile moved fast, slithering between trees and rocks, but two roving spotlights from the three helicopters always found it, as somehow its camouflage ability failed to hide it.

“Target in sight at twelve o’clock. Infrared spotlight keeping it visible. Specimen around twenty feet long. Engaging now.” Agent Mathew’s voice seemed deafening in Benson’s helmet.

A shot boomed, making Benson gasp. He watched as the lead helicopter shuddered, engulfed by a sudden cloud of dirty smoke. Benson’s eyes moved to the creature below. The long, snaking creature continued climbing out of a deep, craggy ravine, its claws grasping rocks and trees with ease. It still tried to hide, its scales changing color constantly, but the spotlights passing over it made any color change futile.

Another boom followed and the creature stopped moving. Benson leaned forward, but the creature only turned its head upwards, snarling and exposing large jaws with long sharp fangs.

“We are not getting any penetration on the target. Blackbird Echo and Foxtrot, weapons are hot. Engage.”

Benson didn’t understand at first what Agent Mathew meant. Then he saw Sergeant Montoya grin at him, manipulate a long lever on his machine gun producing a very loud metallic sound, take aim, and fire downwards.

“No!” Benson yelled. He tried to get out of his seat, but the safety belt held him. He tried to unclasp it, but the soldiers in the cabin held him.

Benson watched, helpless, as the three helicopters circled slowly above the long creature climbing out of the ravine and the soldiers fired long strings of fire downwards, filling the night with noise and red fire, turning the ground into a frothing, burning cauldron of shrapnel. Benson saw the area round the creature burn with small explosions as endless streaks of fire plowed down into it, flames rising. Benson saw sergeant Montoya grin and wave to the soldier manning the machine gun on the other side of the helicopter.