everything he can find on Pendelcorp, Erik Knight and the Hopedale Mountain incident.”
Listening to the harsh voice giving her specific instructions, she nodded, knowing that her future depended on carrying out these instructions exactly.
“Yes, sir,” she confirmed crisply. “I’ll keep you informed.”
Nancy slipped the phone back in her purse. She hated spying on her boss; he was a decent sort, but she needed the money to put both her teens through college. Perhaps a little would be left over for her retirement. She was doing nothing illegal; it was simply a higher branch of government snooping on a lower operative. She followed orders of a higher authority.
Either way she came out a winner.
* * * *
Colonel Ross sat in his office nursing a cup of coffee, his eyes riveted on the flat-panel display screen that relayed the picture of a comatose Shanda Knight and a seemingly inactive alien captive. For all of the months the military had the alien and its ship in their clutch, the government scientists knew very little about either. One fact remained: The hull material of the craft had an organic component. A few short days after the ship was raised off the ocean floor, the hole that Sentinel’s weapon had burned through – both the inner and outer hull – had been repaired as if by magic. No signs of any exterior weapon damage to the area could be seen. If the outside of the craft could repair itself, then he presumed the inside was capable of the same function. To what extent, remained another unknown in a sea of unbalanced equations.
The frail gray creature knew the functionality of the vessel, and removing the alien from confinement of the heavy telepathic shielding would be hazardous as it had the power to impose its will upon humans. Thus far, there existed no safe way to control the alien once it was out of confinement, yet the cost to keep the creature alive and captive drained the project’s financial resources.
Ross did the hard math in his head. He couldn’t keep both subjects captive forever. Shanda Knight would be terminated upon the removal of the offspring she was carrying. The alien, who offered no intrinsic value with the exception of being a showpiece to high-level visitors, was also becoming a liability.
The UFO and Operation Homegrown were Ross’s pet projects. Each one, if successful, would advance science and technology by hundreds, if not thousands of years. The hybrid’s genetic abilities could lead to legions of invulnerable soldiers. The healing capability of its DNA could bring cures to life-threatening diseases. The Alien ship’s power source had an interstellar, if not intergalactic drive. That kind of energy could power an entire city, if not an entire state. Also, the technology could finally enable earth to defend itself against future invading forces.
If only their scientists could figure out both mysteries, and thus find a way to duplicate and harness the biological and technological marvels. Acquisition of these secrets was core to the prosperity of mankind.
Colonel Ross stared at the monitors again; Shanda Knight was still in a near-death state.
“The only man who could possibly save you and stop me is probably half way around the world babysitting a socialite wallflower.” He leaned closer to the monitor. “I own you and I own your child.” He sneered. “Your husband was so overconfident in his own invincibility that he couldn’t conceive this type of threat.” He settled back in his chair satisfied.
“No one could possibly create such a well-organized deception except your hubby’s major nemesis, Richard Pendelton. Here’s to you Pendelton, to a man who loathes loose ends and coming out second best.” Ross raised and drained the contents of his coffee cup.
Ross reached for the telephone to get a status report on Agent Knight. He wanted confirmation that Knight was in France before they revived his wife.
Would the shielding and the distance be enough
Listening to the harsh voice giving her specific instructions, she nodded, knowing that her future depended on carrying out these instructions exactly.
“Yes, sir,” she confirmed crisply. “I’ll keep you informed.”
Nancy slipped the phone back in her purse. She hated spying on her boss; he was a decent sort, but she needed the money to put both her teens through college. Perhaps a little would be left over for her retirement. She was doing nothing illegal; it was simply a higher branch of government snooping on a lower operative. She followed orders of a higher authority.
Either way she came out a winner.
* * * *
Colonel Ross sat in his office nursing a cup of coffee, his eyes riveted on the flat-panel display screen that relayed the picture of a comatose Shanda Knight and a seemingly inactive alien captive. For all of the months the military had the alien and its ship in their clutch, the government scientists knew very little about either. One fact remained: The hull material of the craft had an organic component. A few short days after the ship was raised off the ocean floor, the hole that Sentinel’s weapon had burned through – both the inner and outer hull – had been repaired as if by magic. No signs of any exterior weapon damage to the area could be seen. If the outside of the craft could repair itself, then he presumed the inside was capable of the same function. To what extent, remained another unknown in a sea of unbalanced equations.
The frail gray creature knew the functionality of the vessel, and removing the alien from confinement of the heavy telepathic shielding would be hazardous as it had the power to impose its will upon humans. Thus far, there existed no safe way to control the alien once it was out of confinement, yet the cost to keep the creature alive and captive drained the project’s financial resources.
Ross did the hard math in his head. He couldn’t keep both subjects captive forever. Shanda Knight would be terminated upon the removal of the offspring she was carrying. The alien, who offered no intrinsic value with the exception of being a showpiece to high-level visitors, was also becoming a liability.
The UFO and Operation Homegrown were Ross’s pet projects. Each one, if successful, would advance science and technology by hundreds, if not thousands of years. The hybrid’s genetic abilities could lead to legions of invulnerable soldiers. The healing capability of its DNA could bring cures to life-threatening diseases. The Alien ship’s power source had an interstellar, if not intergalactic drive. That kind of energy could power an entire city, if not an entire state. Also, the technology could finally enable earth to defend itself against future invading forces.
If only their scientists could figure out both mysteries, and thus find a way to duplicate and harness the biological and technological marvels. Acquisition of these secrets was core to the prosperity of mankind.
Colonel Ross stared at the monitors again; Shanda Knight was still in a near-death state.
“The only man who could possibly save you and stop me is probably half way around the world babysitting a socialite wallflower.” He leaned closer to the monitor. “I own you and I own your child.” He sneered. “Your husband was so overconfident in his own invincibility that he couldn’t conceive this type of threat.” He settled back in his chair satisfied.
“No one could possibly create such a well-organized deception except your hubby’s major nemesis, Richard Pendelton. Here’s to you Pendelton, to a man who loathes loose ends and coming out second best.” Ross raised and drained the contents of his coffee cup.
Ross reached for the telephone to get a status report on Agent Knight. He wanted confirmation that Knight was in France before they revived his wife.
Would the shielding and the distance be enough
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