Alien Secrets. Ian Douglas

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СКАЧАТЬ … a trade,” Eisenhower told his aide. “A negotiated exchange. They offered to begin giving us technology. No weapons, but free energy and antigravity and …” He stopped, then shook his head. “Jesus Christ.”

       “And what did they want in return, sir?”

       “Nothing much. Unilateral nuclear disarmament. We get rid of our nukes, and they give us toys … trinkets, really. I felt like a South Seas island native being offered beads and baubles by the Europeans!”

       “What did you tell them?”

       “I told them ‘no,’ and then I told them ‘hell no!’ of course.”

       Adams seemed relieved. “That’s wise, Mr. President. If we lose our nuclear deterrent …”

       “That’s what I told them. They were ready to sign a treaty with us, but I told them no. We will be staying in contact, though. Maybe we can still work something out.”

      But privately, Eisenhower doubted that anything more would come out of this meeting in the desert. That disturbingly human alien had been adamant. Humans were on a deadly path which they must abandon … or face extinction. And while its English had been perfect, there was just the slightest hint of something foreign in the accent. Eisenhower, for his part, couldn’t help but wonder if these beings were in fact Germans, a Nazi remnant escaped from the collapse of their Reich, and somehow provided with advanced technology. There’d been rumors of just that scenario ever since Operation HighJump, in the Antarctic.

       There was no way to confirm any of that, though. And so he would return to the hotel. His staff would concoct a story about him needing emergency dental surgery after he lost a crown at the fried chicken dinner last night. The whole incident would be kept hush-hush.

       And he would go back to the mundane world of running a country, and do his best to forget those visitors and their trinkets.

       But he knew he would always wonder if he’d made the right decision.

      HUNTER WASN’T sure what was in store for him now. That morning, he’d received a peremptory summons to the office of Captain Scott Mulvehill, the CO of the Coronado facility, and presumed that he would be receiving new orders.

      He was still seething, though, over the phone call on the beach. How dare they threaten his girlfriend, a complete innocent, just to shut him up! Perhaps even worse, the timing of the call, and the call itself, strongly implied that he was under constant surveillance. That crack about Gerri being good in bed … He recognized that for what it was: a crude and blunt declaration that they were watching, or at least listening in on him, even when he was in Gerri’s apartment. Was her apartment bugged? It must be. And the intrusion left him furious.

      And clearly they’d been listening in on them at the beach. It hadn’t been a bug, a tiny microphone planted on him at one of the interviews. He knew that much. He hadn’t been wearing anything on the nude beach … and he’d been in uniform during the interviews. Or …

      Now there was a thought. There were, he knew, ways to activate a cell phone from a remote location, and turn the device into a live mic even when it was switched off.

      For that matter, a simple shotgun mic from the top of those bluffs might have been able to listen in on their conversation.

      No matter how they’d done it, the blatant intrusion, the violation of his right to privacy had him boiling mad.

      It also had him more paranoid than before, and terribly concerned for Gerri’s safety. If he was about to get new orders—like back to Virginia, or even another overseas deployment—then breaking things off with her might be the very best thing for both of them.

      He wondered, though, if unseen voyeur spooks were going to be dogging him and all of his girlfriends from now on. His friends. His family. Or would they just arrange for a quick, simple accident, and shut him (and them) up permanently?

      Damn it all!

      He checked in with Mulvehill’s secretary and walked into the office. To his surprise, Mulvehill wasn’t there. Instead, it was a two-striper admiral, a rear admiral, who was waiting for him.

      “Commander Hunter? Have a seat.”

      “Sir! Thank you, sir.”

      “I’m Rear Admiral Kelsey. I’m with … let’s just say I work for JSOC.”

      JSOC was the Joint Special Operations Command, the multiple-service umbrella under which all of the US special ops groups served. JSOC’s command umbrella included DEVGRU, along with the 75th Rangers, Delta Force, and others.

      “Yes, sir.” More important, to Hunter’s way of thinking, was the big, gaudy Budweiser pinned to the upper left of Kelsey’s blue uniform jacket.

      The man was a SEAL. Or, rather, he might have been an active SEAL years ago, but been promoted up to senior management. As with the Marines, however, once a SEAL, always a SEAL.

      There were no ex-SEALs.

       What the hell is this about? Did I really fuck things up even loosely talking to Gerri?

       Fuck.

      Because, the thing was, rear admirals did not, in the normal course of duty, have anything to do with mere lieutenant commanders.

      “I’m authorized to offer you a new billet—a very special billet. And a rather extraordinary deployment.”

      That didn’t sound like he was in trouble. In fact, that sounded interesting. He perked up—if such a thing was possible when in the ramrod straight posture any SEAL would affect in front of top brass.

      “Yes, sir. Where are you sending me?”

      “I can’t tell you that, not yet. What I can say is that it will be a long deployment—probably in excess of two years. And it involves travel. A lot of travel.”

      Hunter considered this. One very real possibility he’d been considering was the classic Navy response to a fuckup, which was to ship him out to someplace remote. So maybe he wasn’t out of the woods yet. “Counting penguins in Antarctica” was how such a duty change was phrased in a typical barracks bull session. And while that specific scenario didn’t seem very likely, the Navy did have a facility on the island of Adak, in the Aleutians—very remote, and very cold.

      No, wait a sec. NAVFAC Adak had been closed in ’97. So what else was there?

      Kelsey continued. “This assignment will be strictly on a voluntary basis. It will be dangerous, and it may involve combat, though we don’t know that for certain at this time.”

      “I see, sir.” Combat was no problem. And danger was already in the job description. It was the secrecy that made Hunter a little cautious—there’d been too much of that in his life recently, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the events in North Korea were related to this new assignment. “And you can’t tell me about it unless I volunteer, СКАЧАТЬ