Issue In Doubt - By David Sherman Page 0,13
the creature’s lower legs, preventing it from kicking out. Casamento managed to wrestle both of its arms behind its back and bound its wrists. Then he wrapped another tie-down around its muzzle to keep it from biting.
“The one at two o’clock is running this way,” Williams shouted.
“Jacobson, check Gray,” Harrell ordered. “Williams, Casamento, get ready.” He checked his motion detector, and drew his sidearm, aiming it in the direction his detector showed the rapidly approaching jinking movement.
The second alien burst through the last row of corn and staggered to an abrupt stop, shrieking as it saw the other, bound alien.
And just that fast, the three Marines fired at it.
Two pistol and one rifle bullet struck it. It reared up, stretching its neck high, mouth wide as though to scream. But only a weak caw came out. The alien toppled to the ground. Harrell put another bullet in the thing’s head.
“I want its weapon and gear,” the squad leader said. “Be careful, it might have post mortem spasms.” Then to Jacobson: “How’s Gray?”
“I think he’s dead.” Jacobson’s voice was thick.
Harrell knelt next to his assistant squad leader. Blood flowed slowly around the loops of intestine that had fallen through the deep gashes in Gray’s belly. His eyes were open and glazed. Harrell checked for breathing and a pulse and found neither. He sighed.
“Put bandages on him to seal his gut,” he told Jacobson. “Then we gotta get out of here.” He looked at the alien that was now bound with more tie-downs, the alien that had killed a friend of his. “Bring the prisoner,” he said, gritting his teeth. He didn’t say he’d rather kill the monster. But he thought it. He didn’t need to say to bring Gray’s body; that was automatic.
Aboard the NAUS Monticello, Leaving Troy Space
The Force Recon mission was a disaster. Eight squads, forty highly skilled Marines, had made planetfall. Close to thirty of them had died. Two squads had been completely wiped out, and their bodies not recovered. Most of the other squads only had one or two survivors; all except one squad that had a survivor had managed to bring back their dead. Only fifth squad had lost but one Marine. The mission would have been a failure as well as a disaster if fifth squad hadn’t captured one of the aliens.
Who were these aliens?
Chapter Three
The War Room, Supreme Military Headquarters, Bellevue, Sarpy County, Federal Zone, NAU
Secretary of War Hobson’s eyes swept the room as he strode in. Everyone he had called for was already gathered around the conference table: Chairman Welborn and Major General de Castro, as well as Army Chief of Staff General John C. Robinson, Chief of Naval Operations Admiral James J. Madison, Commandant of the Marine Corps General Ralph Talbot, Force Recon Commander Colonel Aquilla J. Dyess. Simultaneously least and not nearly least on the military side was Staff Sergeant Harrell, whose squad had captured the alien on Troy.
The civilian contingent was much smaller: Secretary of State Walker sat to Hobson’s right. Next to her was Secretary of Extraterrestrial Affairs Orlando E. Caruana. Jacob F. Raub represented both the medical and exobiology communities. Special Assistant to the President Ignatz Gresser rounded out the gathering.
Harrell was the only one who rose to his feet when Hobson entered.
“Seats!” Hobson barked.
Harrell dropped into his chair at the foot of the table and sat at attention, looking nervously down its length at the Secretary of War. He was comfortable enough with the flag officers, but found the high-ranking civilians intimidating.
“Before we begin,” Hobson said in a gravelly voice, “I want you all to understand that everything said here is classified Top Secret, and is not to be discussed with anybody not here without specific permission from me or the President. Violation of that will land you in a federal prison so fast your head won’t have time to spin. If any of you don’t find that acceptable, you can leave now and submit your resignation.” He stopped to fix the civilians with a glare. “By authorization of the President, that applies to you as well.”
The civilians looked shocked, and Walker opened her mouth to protest.
Ignatz Gresser’s adam’s apple bobbed as he cleared his throat to interrupt her, and said, “That is what the President said, Mary. He told me himself right before I left the Prairie Palace to come here.”
“He can’t do that!” Caruana of Extraterrestrial Affairs objected. His normally fair complexion seemed to turn whiter. “That’s not—”
“He most certainly can,” Hobson cut him off.