>>>>>>>THE FOLLOWING DAY<<<<<<<
>>>>>>>A.T.X.D. DATA CENTER<<<<<<<
>>>>>>>9:25 AM<<<<<<<
Richard didn’t sleep well the previous night: he couldn’t stop thinking about the operation at Hangar 18. The almost open engagements at Camp Pendleton and Wright-Patterson had been covered up as a series of pre-planned, surprise-scenario training exercises conducted “in preparation for a direct attack on the country’s military assets,” so at least the truth of the matter was still under wraps. However, Command was still working with JSOC and the CIA to provide a convincing cover-up for the disappearances at all the other raided installations. And more troubling than the pain of hiding these incidents from the Military Community was the fact that Richard and his teammates still had no idea where the Kronosians' prisoners were being taken. According to an observational report provided to them by DESA, Wright-Patterson had simply been used as a satellite area for on-site experimentation because more than three dozen soldiers from the initial abductions were still unaccounted for. So is there a large mothership in orbit around the Earth where the prisoners were being transported to? Or do the Kronosians have some kind of Forward Operating Base and central laboratory established here on the surface? Or hidden underground?
At least they’d gotten clarity on one thing: the Kronosian who had blown himself up in the basement of Hangar 18 was part of the original hostile survey and infiltration team whose vessel had been shot down in Arizona five years ago. According to intel reluctantly disclosed by the CIA in response to a flaming angry phone call from General Reach, the Kronosian had recovered from a multi-year coma in the military morgue at Roswell AFB where the bodies of some of his remaining compatriots had been kept. In response, the CIA took custody of the seemingly resurrected patient but then designated the unarmed Kronosian an “illegal combatant” on the grounds that he was not human and posed a consistent danger to national security by remaining on American soil, then sent him to Guantanamo Bay for interrogation. But worse than committing a war crime-equivalent violation of the International Code—requiring DESA and A.T.X.D. to issue arrest warrants for at least two high-ranking members of Military Intelligence and the CIA Case Officer supervising the interrogation—the Kronosian insurgent teams had managed to track their imprisoned comrade to the offshore military prison. A subsequent night-raid attack on Guantanamo just days after the initial disappearances started resulted in the whole six-person interrogation team being abducted by the Kronosians and the prison quietly put under siege and a communication loss for nearly two hours.
Luckily, outside of their political jurisdiction, DESA’s agents managed to resecure the offshore POW camp and cover up the mess before A.T.X.D. had to be called in. The worst part: the four MP-dressed humanoids Richard and Cameron had encountered in the basement were part of that interrogation team according to SIO, and were now officially considered deceased. Richard could only assume, based on the fragmented confession he’d heard, that the POW Kronosian had flipped the tables on his former interrogators once he had the power and resources to do so: brutalizing and mutilating them into the humanoids they became. But one thing must have led to another and things soon got out of hand because DESA’s report indicated that the Kronosians were already preparing to abort whatever they had been up to at Wright-Patterson even before Bravo Team arrived on site, explaining the hasty behavior of their adversaries. And as expected, the lowly Kronosian foot soldiers currently sitting in HQ’s Secure Holding Block weren’t proving to be a useful source of information according to Dave. As far as Richard was concerned at least, they were back at square one.
To compensate for the headache he’d given himself over the evening, Richard had gone to the Data Center: a moderately large scanning and surveillance room in the base. The room was accessed through one of the main hallways just short of the Training Center’s entrance and was protected by a large, glass window with multiple frames. Inside, there were rows of computer screens, and the space itself looked like a miniaturized variation of NASA Mission Control, just minus all the people and the ceiling being lower and lit by the blueish-white light that covered the rest of the base. The room was restricted from standard personnel simply because it allowed officers and specialists to access A.T.X.D. records and quietly tap into civilian media and unrestricted military channels to track extraterrestrial activity. As a result, Command didn’t want uncommissioned operatives - rookies especially - to use the Data Center as an abusive means of power and privilege.
But Richard no longer had to worry about that: as he searched for a computer to use, he briefly put a hand against his shoulder, where a new rank badge had been placed the previous evening shortly after the team had returned from their last mission. Because of his quick thinking, concern for the hostage soldiers, and keen attention to detail, Richard was no longer a Private First Class but a Lance Corporal. This new rank of his now gave Richard access to a few command privileges, among them access to the Data Center.
At first, Richard just sat looking at the screen, totally clueless about how to proceed. Then slowly, he searched the system database with the request of “recent clearance and/or abductions of U.S. Military personnel.” As expected, the first results that came up were locations Richard had already seen in the initial briefing or had been to with Bravo Team, including Miramar and Camp Pendleton. But another installation - Fort Bliss in Texas - had just made its way onto the list as early as 4:30 am Mountain Standard Time today, and Richard had to avoid banging the desk in hurt rage upon learning this.
But what’s fucking worse? Richard thought to himself, briefly crossing his arms and putting his head down as an alternate expression of his saddened fury. Responding to this site only to kill our brothers and sisters who have been irreparably polluted by this bioweapon? Or tracking down where they are being held and preventing that from happening? Is that even possible?
He was thinking about all the times—not just in his war, but other current wars which either did or did not involve the deployment of American troops—in which he’d heard about civilians being taken hostage by certain enemy forces and how said capture often resulted in death. If the prisoners weren’t slowly put to death by the enemy, they were killed by their own country in the attempted rescue or because their government had lost hope of being able to retrieve them in the first place and thought the only solution left to them was to annihilate the enemy by any means necessary. Frankly, even A.T.X.D. wasn’t any different in the present moment: if any American soldiers were captured by the Kronosians in this campaign, it was worse than a guaranteed death. The soldiers would be horribly mutated into possessed killing machines that just happened to retain ninety-five percent of their original human form, clearly losing their sense of awareness and self-control in the process. In this state, there was nothing to keep them from charging at the first enemy which the Kronosians merely pointed to, and nothing to morally hold these former soldiers back from shooting, stabbing, or ripping their former teammates apart limb-by-limb. With all hope of restoring their humanity clearly lost, Richard and his teammates had no choice but to terminate the enslaved hostiles; hostiles who—in their earlier lives—would have likely been….allies.
Richard then reached inside his uniform pocket and pulled out two dog-tag IDs: Carter Jameson, ID number 520 26 8725; Mack Rogers, ID number 442 82 5625. On both tags was something which forced a knife into the split of his already broken heart: 1st Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment. These were names of the two humanoid Rangers whom he, Dave and Cameron had gunned down upon entering the administration offices next to Hangar 18. Being based out of Joint Base Lewis-McChord in Tacoma, Washington as part of the 2nd Battalion, Richard had never personally crossed paths with either of these Rangers. But upon retrieving these dog tags from the dead zombie Rangers after securing the airbase, Richard felt nothing but anguish and guilt. Despite the scientific truth that these fallen comrades had already been dead before being killed a second time by his and Dave's laser rounds, one thought continued to haunt the young 2nd Battalion ex-Ranger because it was remotely accurate: I killed them.
As Richard cleared the search bar in an attempt to find something to distract his trauma, his fingers accidentally struck the Control+V function, and the term “U.S. Military” was reinserted. The database soon returned a map of all known and classified Military Installations across the United States. Richard looked at this new display with a dulled expression for about a half-minute but then hesitated before he could delete the current search. His eyes then darted to the southwestern desert area near A.T.X.D.’s HQ. To the southeast in New Mexico, he saw the location of Roswell AFB, with an additional red and white-striped icon defined in the key as “Restricted Site.” But to the west of HQ, Richard saw among a small cluster of icons that one installation was missing.
Zooming in further, Richard isolated the location to Groom Lake, Nevada, where he expected the notoriously-classified installation and test range ‘Area 51’ to be located. All he got, though, was the approximate area of the Nevada Test Site, which didn’t even have an icon displayed, and a seemingly wiped or at least heavily-pixelated zone where Area 51 should have been.
Clearing the current search, Richard typed in “Nevada Test Site.” In response, the terminal coughed up a whole slew of data regarding the site, including its GPS coordinates, declassified history, and certain other classified data that required an “Administrative Override” to be viewed. But something else that caught his eye the moment it came up was “Contact Status.” Looking behind him briefly, Richard slowly clicked on the link and was surprised to receive an error message.
ERROR: 566789. T*77clear_a66. NO CONTACT DATA FOUND.
“Odd,” Richard replied with a puzzled look. He then tried a similar search with “Area 51” and was given an even more confusing - make that a worrisome - response.
CONTACT STATUS UNAVAILABLE. ERROR CODE 566C89T2.
“Why would we not have contact with this area?” Richard inquired out loud to himself, his headache now resurging in a new way.
Was there a secret agreement between the A.T.X.D. and the U.S. Military to keep the Test Range off the data files to avoid discovery? Couldn’t be: Richard knew that the base’s coordinates, at least, were now public knowledge, so there was no longer a need to hide the site’s true location. But what about communications? Richard had no idea what really went on in the site, but then again neither did most other people. However, he guessed that if Area 51 or any of its surrounding sites had previously run afoul with a hostile non-terrestrial, chances are they would have had the A.T.X.D. involved to help clear up and hush up the mess. As Richard left the Data Center with a still rather sore throb in the head, he came across Jack, who was headed to the Training Center in his athletic attire for a routine workout.
“Hey, brother,” Jack inquired, “you look kinda worried or sick. Everything alright?”
“Just been in the Data Center. I hope that’s okay.”
“Just as long as you weren’t tapping into my Facebook account, I see no harm. Come on to the training center. You can talk to me while I work out.”
After Jack did some warm-up stretches, Richard approached him as the latter started beating one of the dummies to a pulp.
“I was trying to see if I could find a pattern in the Kronosians’ movements,” Richard started. “But as you can imagine, my search led me absolutely nowhere.”
“Well, it’s not the most up-to-date cyber library in the world, the Data Center,” Jack replied, “so I’m not too surprised.”
“But something did catch my attention. You’ve heard about Area 51, right?”
“‘Course. It’s common knowledge here at A.T.X.D. I imagine HQ has some kind of defense pact with the top secret forces which patrol that whole area.”
“Funny, because I must’ve been working at a broken terminal if we don’t have any contacts with Area 51 or its surrounding sites.”
“Wait what?” Jack replied, pausing abruptly and approaching Richard. “What do you mean its contact data didn’t show up? Any restricted sites here in the United States, at least those with extraterrestrial cover-ups, need to have a contact file in our library. Are you sure it didn’t just ask for an Administrative Override, because Dave could certainly help you there?”
“No. In fact, come with me and I’ll show you.”
Back in the Data Center, Richard did exactly the same search key-for-key he had done the first time. And Jack was noticeably disturbed when the error messages for the Nevada Test Site and Area 51 showed up.
“That’s not good,” Jack mused with a disturbingly wary tone.
“Does Command need to know about this?” Richard inquired.
“I’d be surprised if not. But if this also has to do with the Kronosians, we’ll need to let Dave and Ashley know too.”
>>>>>>>30 MINUTES LATER<<<<<<<
>>>>>>>BRIEFING ROOM<<<<<<<
Ashley and Dave accompanied Richard and Jack to the briefing room once they’d reviewed their findings of the terminal. Upon entrance, Dave prompted Richard to go forward to the center of the room and present his analysis to Reach and two other commanding officers: Lt. General Maxwell “Max” Anderson and Major General Russell Campbell. The three commanders sat at a semi-circular, u-shaped table that encompassed the area Richard now stood in, wearing black formal uniforms and clasping their hands together patiently.
“Lance Corporal Johnson,” Douglas requested professionally yet kindly, “please tell us how you came across this...phenomenon.”
As confidently as he could, Richard explained how he’d been trying to search for patterns in the Kronosians’ movements when he accidentally stumbled upon the map of all known and “of-interest” U.S. Military installations. He went on to explain how he had found the lost contact data error for the Nevada Test Site, and how Jack had indicated that such a thing was unprecedented to a worrisome extent. After finishing, Richard retreated to the group and Ashley took his place, now presenting an analysis of the situation to their superior officers.
“It is our assumption that this installation may already be under Kronosian control. The rules and regulations which the U.N. set forth to the U.S. Military in 1995 require that any contact or interaction with non-terrestrial beings and U.S. Military personnel be filed and copied to A.T.X.D. records for administrative review and archiving, particularly if the situation was hostile. It also requires any installations with a history or even a single instance of extraterrestrial contact to remain on high-clearance, encrypted channels so that A.T.X.D. can remotely monitor the site for security breaches, illicit activities, or other threats to both terrestrial and non-terrestrial civilians.”
“LFC Miller, this is very informative,” Campbell replied with a gently-raised hand, “but if you please, what connection do these requirements have to your findings?”
Taking in a slow breath and looking at her comrades, Ashley continued. “We did a little digging into the system to find the origin of these contact errors Johnson had spotted, sir. Turns out the loss of contact actually originated as of two weeks ago.”
“Two weeks ago?” Reach responded with wide eyes. “That’s when the disappearances began occurring. You’re sure you saw that data correctly, LFC?”
“Yes sir, I’m positive that’s the time stamp of the error. Area 51 specifically was the first to go dark, then the rest of the Test Site. And after a detailed cross-check with our friends in the Global Surveillance Office, this was just about the same time the abductions and AWOL reports began coming into JSOC.”
The Generals looked at each other, then Anderson continued with, “And you think this area has also been cleared of all personnel like the other installations, Lieutenant Miller?”
“With permission, sir,” Dave began, and approached the center of the room, “it is our belief that the Kronosians are using Area 51 as a Forward Operating Base. We’ve searched our force’s entire satellite monitoring system and we have no confirmation of Kronosian vessels in orbit around the planet. What we are likely dealing with is some sort of special unit of the Kronosians, operating remotely or under their own chain of command, who are trying to turn our military against the country and possibly the entire Earth.”
“This being supported by the fact that we’ve run into this newly developed Crawler weapon, which the Kronosians have used against us at Camp Pendleton and Wright-Patterson but not once during the War. I can only assume a similar fate has befallen many more of the Kronosians’ prisoners,” Ashley corroborated.
“I see,” Reach said, maintaining a calm but wary face as he pondered his next decision. After a minute of eerie silence, Reach finally stood up and replied, “LFC Miller, Sergeant Major Connor, mobilize the rest of Bravo Team and prepare for dust off immediately. If what you say is true, our country is in far more danger than anyone else is aware.”
“You are permitted to use deadly force as necessary to exterminate any hostiles you come across,” Anderson added. “But get as many of those soldiers and non-shooting personnel to safety as possible. I don’t care if they are missing all their limbs or otherwise barely alive. Getting them home and neutralizing the Kronosian threat is all that matters.”
“Understood, sir,” Dave and Ashley replied in unison before being promptly dismissed and accompanying Richard and Jack out of the room.
“This is definitely a disturbing change in their tactics, Commander General,” Campbell expressed to Reach as the highly-ranked trio stood up from their chairs. “The fact that the Kronosians would go from being imperialistic to absolutely inhumane.”
“Sometimes, sentient beings will go to great and terrible lengths to maintain power and influence,” Reach admitted. “I’ve seen it many times before, even in our own country where we deludedly believe it could never happen. Let’s just pray that Bravo Team can handle this issue under the radar before the enemy’s full objective is completed.”
“Indeed,” Anderson finished warily.