The Greys
by Michael B. Shimer

Somewhere in the Western Nevada desert
present day, 0215 hours Zulu

The pointman signaled for a stop twenty meters from the microwave sensor bed. The lead element of an eight man special ops team, he was dressed in night pattern desert BDU's (battle dress uniform) with no markings or insignia. Across the microwave bed and a two-lane service road lay the team's objective: a series of one and two-story tan in color buildings on the western edge of a dry lake bed in the Nevada desert. Each member wore AN-PVS7 night vision goggles and lay flat beneath the clear night sky with weapons at the ready. The team leader, Captain Jonathan Richmond, made the call via his VOX (voice operated transmission) radio headset.

"Alpha One this is Two, in position."

The response was immediate. "Roger Two, standby."

Opposite the compound of six structures, an identical team had proceeded to the southern wall of the building designated by intelligence as the C2, or command and control, facility for the base. It was the only building with visible movement reported by Sierra One, a two man sniper team three hundred meters to the rear and above Alpha One. Sierra One covered the advance of the team to the objective after moving into their "hide" on the rocky slope of the ridge bordering the base.

"Alpha Two this is Alpha One, ten seconds..."

The sound of an Arleighgram, a shape charged C-4 explosive rig developed by the LAPD for cutting holes into thick walls, broke the silence and sent the plan into operation. A hole approximately ten by ten feet made by the explosive was One's point of entry. Systematically, the team cleared the office and communication rooms of the structure, eliminating "targets" with H&K MP5-SD suppressed 9mm sub-machine guns. The sound of "stinger" def-tech stun grenades, which produced a loud "bang" and a brilliant flash of light and scatter a hundred or so hard rubber pellets, could be heard as the team advanced throughout the structure. Within a half a minute. the building was cleared.

Alpha Two simultaneously proceeded across the microwave bed and toward a group of parked HMMWV (highly-mobile, multi-wheeled vehicles, or "hummers"), painted desert tan and used by the security force for perimeter patrols. Beyond the parking area, the unmarked building used by the guard force for shift change and breaks came alive with lights and activity. Sierra Two, the sniper team covering Alpha Two's approach toward the guard building, observed the guard shack approximately 500 meters east of the compound on the edge of the service road, the only entrance and exit from the base.

"We've got two tangos approaching your three o'clock, standby..."

The only sound heard by the unfortunate was the sonic crack of the .308 rifle bullet as it struck the first and then the second sentries.

"Alpha Two, targets eliminated, your clear."

The point cell approached the main entrance of the security building as the first half-dressed guard began to exit. A three round burst for the pointman's MP5 dropped him in the doorway. The cell criss-crossed into the large, open room, lined with wall lockers on one wall and bulletin boards covered with memorandums and schedules on another. A guard coming for the door with an M16A2 assault rifle fired one shot high, striking the dry wall above the door frame before he was dropped with a burst from the coverman. The second cell moved in and set up on the door which intelligence reports said led to the sleeping quarters, arms room and administrative offices. Two stingers were tossed in, followed immediately by both two-man cells. The remaining guard force, caught off guard by the noise and confusion of the sudden attack and years of complacency, put up little organized resistance. Within ninety seconds the fight was over. Alex Freeman, the team's medic, checked for injuries.

"Alpha One this is Two, all clear, objective secured."

2

Major Charles Wright, commanding officer for the operation and Alpha One's team leader, assessed the situation. His twenty plus years working special operations "black ops" for various United States agencies-without-names led him to be the ever-cautious leader of men. Phase one was complete, objective secured and no communication or request for assistance had left the base. Phase two was to enter the secured hangar five miles west of the compound and adjacent to a 27,000 foot runway that practically ran from the base to the hangar. Both teams would have to work fast: communication between the hangar and the base was like clockwork every half hour.

"Alpha Two this is One, prep the vehicles and get in uniform, move out in three mikes."

Alpha Two began the process of securing guard uniforms from lockers and vehicle keys from the security dispatch books. Alpha One began positioning team members on the secured communications equipment and in-processing the necessary Pass and ID credentials that would be needed to breach the security of the hangar. In six minutes, Alpha Two was prepped and waiting outside the comm center.

"Sierra One and Two, this is Alpha One: stay alert, we're moving."

"Roger One, we've got the back door for ya," came the reply.

Two hummers, the normal response to the hangar complex from the base, pulled up to the twenty foot high, razor wire topped fence, illuminated by stadium-style flood lights. The electronic speaker crackled to life while a video camera swept the area overhead.

"You're a couple minutes early for a change, must be motivated tonight!" came the electronic voice in response to Major Wright's palm-read access request.

Wright pulled the forged Pass and ID from his jacket pocket and slid it through the magnetic scanner slot next to the speaker. The gate, on electronic pulleys, slowly creaked open and the two vehicles pulled into the parking area immediately inside.

"OK Jonathan, this is it," Wright said, gripping the MP5 with sweaty palms. The trump card was up, and Wright could only hope that the expense paid for the security information was truly worth it. Three members of Alpha Two approached a small cubicle that looked similar to a phone booth. Only one could enter at a time, and would have to go through a three-pronged security assessment before he could enter the hangar. Almost simultaneously, a computer matched his thumb print, weight and retina pattern with records stored of authorized personnel. If it failed, the person inside the booth and everyone inside the parking area would be trapped, allowing the hangar to be secured to almost impregnability. Seconds ticked by until the inner-door of the booth slid open allowing the first man inside.

The entry control station was small, about ten by fifteen feet in diameter, with two computer stations and a monitor bank allowing a view of the outside secured area and entrance gate. The look of boredom on the faces of the the guards was quickly replaced by alarm and the the still look of death as three well-placed silenced 9mm rounds struck each in the five ring.

"Alpha One, entry secured, opening the door."

That was the word Major Wright had been waiting for. "Roger, copy Two, let's move!"

The remaining men entered the hangar through the open sally port. The mission would get a little tricky from here, Wright thought to himself. Little intel escaped from inside the hangar complex and no schematics of the inside were known to exist.

"Jonathan, take your men and move down the hangar's left wall. We'll move right, by bounding overwatch, so check your fields of fire."

"Roger that, Chuck, we're set when you give the word."

The teams stacked up and quietly entered the hangar through a short hallway and two sets of sliding steel doors. Both required simultaneous use of "pass cards," obtained from the guards growing colder by the minute on the entry control room floor.

The hangar was immense. Fully three hundred meters long by a hundred meters wide, it was carved out of the mountain side with an angled door, fifty meters high and camoflauged to match the outside mountain wall and fool satellite imagery analysts as to it's exact location. Recently, however, increased activity at the hangar had spoiled any attempts to fully conceal the goings on at the complex. But the object of the operation sat in the center of the hangar floor. A metallic silver in color "disc," shaped like two cooking pan lids laid bottom to bottom, with a small antenna coming from the top and no visible door; the sight of this "ship" almost made Charles Wright forget where he was. The sound of rifle cracks brought him back to reality.

"Alpha One this is Two, I've got four down on the west side of the disc, Thompson took one in the thigh, Freeman's dressing him up now."

"Roger Two, we're secure here, set up a perimeter around the disc and stand by."

No one spoke for what seemed like an hour. first there was the after action checks that came naturally the the men after any engagement. Reload, check for injuries, check your buddy. The disc was eerie under the fluorescent lights of the hangar. Various work stations scattered the floor here and there. Several of the men went to the task of securing data from file cabinets and computer terminals.

Then came the sound.

Almost like the sound of a high power tension line, a buzzing, which grew louder by the second. Then, suddenly, one by one the men dropped to the ground, on knees or flat out, grabbing for their heads. The pressure increased rapidly, cerebral fluid, mixed with blood, began to leak from ears and noses, screams stifled within ten seconds. Several of the men's heads exploded from the dramatic increase in internal pressure.

{They have betrayed us}

A pause, then the reply, {We will leave immediately, for the Aleutians.}

"Alpha One, Alpha Two, this is Sierra One, over..."
"Alpha One, Alpha Two... Major Wright, this IS Sierra One, do you copy?"
"Sierra Two this is One, any contact?"
"Negative One, we've got nothing..."

The light grew in intensity as it ascended from the desert floor. A pulsating blue/white aura, the disc lifted quickly aloft and disappeared into the night sky.

3

Aleutian Islands, off the coast of Alaska
present day, 0330 hours, Zulu

The chain of small islands that form the Aleutians separate the Bering Sea to the north from the Pacific Ocean to the south. They stretch almost 1,100 miles (1,600 kilometers) from Alaska to Attu Island in the North Pacific. The total area of land is approximately 6,821 square miles (17,666 square kilometers). Unalaska, on Unalaska Island, is one of the largest cities of the Aleutians with a population around 3,500. The native Aleuts have lived there since time immemorable.

The Aleutians have had a military presence since the Second World War. The Japanese occupied several of the islands at one time, and since the end of the war several military stations have made up a vital link in the air defense of North America. On the island of Unalaska, the U.S. Coast Guard has it's base for the Bering Sea. Dutch Harbor, on an adjacent island, is a strategic port between the North Pacific and the Bering Sea. From 1965 to 1971, Amchitka Island was used as an underground nuclear test site.

On a small, isolated and unpopulated island, not far from the site of the nuclear tests, someone else had taken up residence. Satellite imagery shows now visible buildings or other evidence of human presence. And that's the way they want it.

The disc shaped craft quickly dropped from the night sky, descending into the crater of an inactive volcano. As it neared the floor of the crater, the ground below flickered, like a telvision picture needing adjustment. The electromagnetic hologram faded and revealed a three hundred meter drom to the actual crater floor below. The complex was immense. Six more of the discs sat on the complex floor. The descending disc settled onto it's underbelly, with a barely audible "hum" as it descelerated to a gentle landing.

The crew of the disc, three in all and the same that departed the secret base in Nevada, exited through a doorway blended so well into the hull of the craft it was nearly invisible to the naked eye. Several dozen more of the aliens, busy with work around the other discs, harkly took notice of the arriving craft.

{Our schedule will not change} thought the first alien departing the craft. Receiving the thought was a much taller, but similarly appearing alien. The taller alien, standing nearly seven and a half feet, had a large nose, which to a human would probably seem quite comical on the oversized head of the grey-skinned visitor.

{We must be ready, the invetro program cannot be hindered}

{Yes} thought the smaller alien {we have recovered all of the genetic data from the humans in the desert, along with the embryos}

{Good, the arrival is now less than sixty Earth days away. Download the data and have the embryos moved to invetro/genetics}

The tall alien moved quickly away, returning to a grouop of several other of the tall aliens.

Check back soon as I work on some more of this story. Thanks for your patience.

Return to MIKE SHIMER'S FICTION PAGE