Overlord (72 page)

Tram raised the rifle and pointed back toward the very bow of the
Lee
and the escape pods waiting there.

“General, we have succeeded. I will now come to you,” Tram said in broken English as he moved to follow Team Bravo to the superstructure of the burning
Lee.

“Negative, Lieutenant, get the hell out of here. That’s an order!” Jack said forcefully.

Tram looked amidships, where Collins was inside the number fifteen rail gun. He watched as the small turret turned toward the formerly damaged area where Alpha team had entered. Tram cursed and then followed the team to the escape pods. His battle was now over.

*   *   *

Everett watched as the last charge was set. He felt the hair inside his suit rise as power coursed through the ship around him. He had heard the master chief and his opinion earlier that the saucer was trying to open a wormhole. The giant saucer started to shake as the power increased.

“Last charge is set,” he called. A rocking explosion sounded from close to a half mile away. Jack had done what he promised and opened the hole. The rail gun discharged once more, opening the hole wider and slowing the reatomizing of the material making up the alien saucer’s hull.

“Okay, Alpha, your door is open!” Jack called as he saw the shuttle limp close in. The braking jets were still and silent as Ryan slammed the black nose into the void. “Your ride’s here, Admiral, move it!”

“Jack, get the hell out of there, don’t worry about us!”

*   *   *

Collins escaped the turret just before the Grays blew it to shreds. Fifteen of them fired continuously and didn’t even notice when Jack slid out of the opening between the two electrically charged barrels. He thought for a moment that his bulky suit was going to get caught, and then with a deep intake of breath he pushed through. He floated freely for a brief moment until he was able to reach out and grab a floating cable that arrested his flight before he drifted away between the flaming wreck of the
Lee
and the power-distribution saucer. Steady explosions were starting to rock the broken battleship from stem to stern as her munitions and coolant tanks started to cook off as the flames reached the many storage lockers buried deep inside the ship. As Collins watched the bridge area finally let go as the
Lee
’s forward particle and Argon gas storage area exploded in a blue cloud of debris. The bridge separated itself from the superstructure and went hurtling into the large saucer. The steel slammed into the large alien craft, creating a large hole that quickly started to heal. Jack chanced a look at the hole he blasted through the saucer’s hull and saw Ryan taking on Carl’s assault team.

Suddenly the area of space around the saucer started to waver before Jack’s eyes and he thought that he was finally succumbing to his head wound. Then his stomach started to turn over as his gloved hand tried to keep a hold on the drifting cable holding him in place. As he spun he saw the whiteness of Antarctica far below. He wondered if Sarah was safe, and that was all his mind could take in at the moment. A hand took hold of his suit and he thought he saw Carl’s face.

“Damn it, Jack, you accidently shut down your oxygen mix.”

Collins felt himself rolled over and then the cold, refreshing blast of air as it filled his helmet.

As Everett turned him over he saw that the shuttle was ready for them. He pushed and pulled Jack free of the wreckage of the
Lee
as she shuddered, and then there was silence as she started to wrench away from the fast moving saucer. Everett saw the shuttle as Ryan tried in vain to hold her in place, but the
Garrison Lee
finally broke in two directly amidships. The stern section whipped around and in its wake it slingshot the shuttle forward and away from the two men.

Carl reached out and grabbed the remains of the aluminum United Nations flag as her battered stern came around. That was when his eyes fell on the tunnel opening for the escape pods.

“Make a run for home, Ryan, we can’t make it!” Carl said into his mike as Jack started to come around. His eyes tried to focus but all he could see was the deflector plow finally releasing its hold on the giant saucer and go hurting into low orbit.

“No fucking way, we’re coming to get you.”

Jenks came on next and belayed the order. “We don’t have the fuel, we’re going to have to find a clear and very long runway as it is. We’ve lost lower hydraulics and that means no landing gear.”

“You heard the man, Jason, fire your main engine and get back to Camp Alamo. You can’t miss it, use the ice for a runway. Now get to it!”

With one last look at his two friends Ryan realized he had to save the men crammed into the cargo hold. Angry, he throttled the shuttle forward.

“I take it the rescue didn’t go well,” Jack said as he finally came around. He grabbed for the dislodged stern section that held the battered flag.

“We only have to float here for a few seconds longer, buddy,” Everett said as he held onto Jack tighter.

“How much longer?” Collins asked, knowing what Carl meant.

Before he could answer, a small rescue pod bumped into them. Inside they saw the serious face of Tram as he guided the escape pod closer. He threw open the Plexiglas cover and then gestured for the men.

Carl knew the limitations of the pod. It held six and Tram already had six plus himself inside. He pushed and pulled Jack along the flag and then shoved the weightless body toward the open hatch.

“Take him, Lieutenant; I’ll catch the next one.”

Collins tried to reach out and take hold of Everett’s arm but it was too late. He felt hands on him as the men of the Bravo assault element pulled him inside the small pod.

Tram placed the escape vehicle into automatic and the small craft shot forward, hurtling toward the ice continent far below.

Everett watched his friends leave and was content.

The swirling pattern of the vortex started in earnest as the dimensional wormhole started to form. To his surprise it whipped up a debris storm and his eyes widened as he saw an empty escape pod come at him from out of nowhere. He let go of the flag and reached for all he was worth. He caught the open canopy of the dislodged and empty pod. He held on as he tried to pull himself up and in. He finally managed to make it and immediately buttoned it up.

“Carl, damn you,” Jack was heard saying.

“I’m not dead yet, buddy.” He placed the pod into automatic to allow the computer to take him home.

“Get away from there, the wormhole is on you!”

To Everett it looked as if a kaleidoscope had opened up and the colors of the universe filled the black void of space. The sight was amazing. The saucer was creating something only found naturally in deep space as stars collapsed in on themselves. The swirling tornado of dust particles, debris from the battle, and dust from space filled his vision as the saucer started to make a run for its home fleet. The smaller saucers fell into formation with it and Carl’s pod was pulled up at the same moment.

Every event of Everett’s life soon flew past his vision. He knew this to be illusion as his body and mind were caught in the displacement of time as the escape pod shot up into the swirling tornado of light. The large saucer, the processing ships, and the smaller attack craft were three hundred miles ahead of the small pod and much farther into the tornado.

“I don’t think so,” Carl said as his smile grew wide.

The twenty-four Israeli-built nuclear charges detonated right on time, catching the large saucer before it exited the displacement into the deep-space home of the floating home fleet carrying the remains of the Gray civilization. The power replenishment ship blew outward with the power of an exploding sun, vaporizing the other ships and sending them to their doom in the wink of an eye.

“Oops,” was all Everett had time to say as he glanced at the watch he had attached to his spacesuit’s sleeve just above the thick glove. He saw the exact time that was recorded on the damaged and ancient watch found in Antarctica by the British five years before, and the blood-streaked crystal. The small pod was violently thrown backward as the wave of superheated gases slammed into Everett. The pod was immediately and violently thrown free of the displacement wormhole and sent tumbling through the tunnel until it exited somewhere over Antarctica—two hundred thousand years before the
Garrison Lee
ever took flight.

The great mystery that no man could avoid came to pass and Admiral Carl Everett vanished into a distant past.

Soon the dimensional wormhole dissipated and nothing was left but the floating wreckage of a once proud warship of human and Martian design.

CHATO’S CRAWL, ARIZONA

Matchstick held the hand of Gus, and Dr. Denise Gilliam had her arm wrapped around the old man’s waist as they were led from the Black Hawk to the front gate. Gus wanted nothing more than to get inside his old, comfortable shack and rest with his best friend. Before they reached the gate, the copilot of the helicopter hurriedly caught up with Pete and Charlie. Matchstick stopped to see what the excitement was about. They failed to see the burly man with the cowboy hat at the open gate tense up.

“Dr. Golding, we have a flash message from Group,” the young copilot said as the pilot also joined the three men. The Marine corporal was eyeing the big man at the gate suspiciously as he noticed the man’s eyes never left the small form of Mahjtic.

Pete took the hastily transcribed note and read it. His smile was cautious as he looked up at an expectant Matchstick.

“The power-replenishment saucer and the processing ships no longer appear on long-range Earth-based imagery.”

Matchstick momentarily let go of the hand of the old prospector and took an expectant step closer to Pete. His small blue jumpsuit was too large as the pant legs dragged on the ground.

“The
Garrison Lee
has been destroyed.”

Charlie placed a hand on the small shoulder and lowered his head.

Pete seemed to take heart with the next paragraph written on the notepad.

“The
Lee
’s escape pods are parachuting into the sea and on land near Camp Alamo and rescue operations have commenced.”

The small alien took hold of Gus’s hand and smiled up at him.

“Well, you did it, you little shit,” he said with his old smile that made Mahjtic feel good inside that he could please Gus. “Don’t go braggin’ ’bout it,” the old prospector said to Golding. “He’s gonna be a bear to live with now.”

Charlie, Pete, Denise, and Matchstick, in his strange cottony voice, all laughed.

“Come on Gus, we can talk about this inside,” Dr. Gilliam said.

Marine corporal DeSilva moved closer to Matchstick. He also looked at the guard shack closest to the fence and slowly started to reach for the old Colt .45 at his belt. The young pilot of the Black Hawk saw the movement and unsnapped his holster that lay across his chest and then nudged the pilot trying to get his attention. The corporal saw something that gave him pause. The big man at the gate kept flicking his dark eyes toward the old shack and then back again. He also didn’t particularly care for the way he looked back at the group and the uneasy smile that appeared. His old combat hackles began to rise.

The Marine corporal pulled the Colt from its holster, but before it cleared the leather a shot rang out and DeSilva fell into the copilot. The pilot was much faster, as he had his Beretta nine millimeter in his hand, and shot the big man who had fired into the Marine with a gun he had hidden at his side. The large round caught the man in the shoulder, knocking him off balance and before anyone knew it, Charlie Ellenshaw was on the man, taking the giant down, beating him with his fists.

Gunfire from their rear struck Ellenshaw in the back of his shoulder blade and sent him flying off the wounded bear of a man. Charlie hit face-first, his glasses flying from his face. Gus pulled Matchstick and Denise to the ground just as flying bullets caught the pilot. Three rounds stitched his flight suit but the tough Air Force lieutenant managed to get off one round as he fell backward. The nine-millimeter bullet struck the man directly in the center of his forehead, freezing him like a statue.

Gus saw the fallen weapon of the man as he fell and it clattered next to him. He started to reach for it when Denise screamed for him not to.

“Stop shooting!” Hiram Vickers shouted as he sprang from the open doorway of the old shack. He was waving his hands as the giant’s brother was screaming as if he had gone insane. “Stop, we need them alive!”

The crazed brother of the dead man wasn’t listening. His M-4 opened fire on full automatic. Gus was struck in the head and chest, and he was thrown off of Matchstick and Denise Gilliam. Pete tried desperately to retrieve the falling gun that flew from the old man’s hand and in a near state of panic allowed it to slip through his fingers. He turned just as the charging man that had lain like a snake in hiding emptied half of the magazine into Pete Golding, sending him flying backward. Then he turned the weapon toward Denise and a frightened and stunned Matchstick as she tried to protect him the best that she could. She threw her body once again onto the alien. She felt the bullets pass through her back.

Vickers took quick aim and fired his nine millimeter six times. The bullets finally dropped the crazed fool, first to one knee, and then with a blank look on the bearded face, he fell forward dead. Vickers looked at his weapon and then lowered it in stunned silence. He raised his eyes and looked at the complete disaster that had unfolded in the blink of an eye.

Vickers stood there with the smoking weapon in his hand and looked at the carnage before him. Denise Gilliam’s body twitched, then he saw a small arm and hand reach out and try and touch the hand of the old prospector who lay not far from the two bodies. The fingers twitched and as the long digits came into contact with the old man’s still hand, the hand then quit moving.

Vickers saw his life coming to an end as his last hope of getting a trade for his life was now gone.