Authors: Walter Knight
Atm (16 page)
“
Sir,” insisted Airman Knight, “if the prisoners are being moved, I need to report it to the Officer of the Day.” He reached for the phone. “This is highly irregular.”
“
Who’s the general?” asked Smith, snatching the phone. “Me or you?”
“
You, sir.”
“
Then unlock the cell door!”
“
Yes, sir,” replied Knight, rattling keys. “Did you say they were going to Mars? That’s a funny joke, sir.”
“
You’re going too, Knight. See if you still think it’s so funny when you get there.”
“
Sir, I won’t go.”
“
Too late,” I said, grabbing the skinny airman and scooping up his vintage pulp science fiction. “The view up there is great.”
The spider commander was already stretched out in the back of the truck.
We shoved him aside to make room.
“
What about North?” asked Major Lopez. “We can’t leave him. He might change history.”
“
No time,” I replied as our truck approached the main gate. “He’s a marine. He’ll adapt.”
We crashed through the gate doing eighty
-eight. MPs gave chase, but their jeep was disabled by a flash in the sky, a laser burning a neat hole in the engine block. A shimmering Legion shuttle landed to pick us up.
“
What about my family?” asked Knight. “I can’t leave them.”
“
We’ll abduct them, too,” promised General Smith. “I’m told it happens all the time here in Roswell. Ever get the feeling you can see a future no one else can see?”
“
I get that feeling all the time,” whined Knight. “That doesn’t mean I actually want to see the future in person.”
“
I can see the future, and I don’t need no damn time machine to do it. The future is bright for America, and I want to see it all in person. I want to live long enough to be a part of our future, our manifest destiny to conquer the stars. You’re going to see it too, whether you want to or not. So is your son.”
“
Yes, sir.
* * * * *
General Roger Ramey, commander of the Eighth Air Force, inspected the scene of the mass alien abduction. Heads were going roll on this one. This time an American General was abducted. Smitty was not the sort to just let this happen to himself. There had to be extenuating circumstances. The MPs were sticking to their bullshit story about being shot at by a shimmering oblong disk-like craft hovering in the night sky. Those fools would be transferred to Greenland to count icebergs. The President was not going accept that General Smith was just plucked from the middle of an Air Force base by Martians.
At the stockade, the jail door still remained open, keys still dangling in the lock.
Alien abduction my ass
, mused General Ramey. Obviously the spies had help escaping. Ramey paced the small bleak cell, looking for clues. What was that? In the corner, by a bunk, there was a small freshly carved message scribbled into the stone wall. He bent over for a closer look. ‘Tell Audie Murphy to stay out of airplanes, and President John Kennedy to stay out of Dallas.’
“
What the Hell? Who is President John Kennedy?”
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~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~
Walter Knight
played football on Tucson High School’s last state championship team (1971). He served three years in the army, and the GI Bill paid for his college education, helping him earn degrees from Fort Steilacoom Community College, Central Washington State College, and the University of Puget Sound School of Law.
Walter lives a very quiet and private life, residing with his family and horses, dogs, cats, and fish atop a hill in rural Washington. Walt enjoys taking road trips to explore ghost towns and casinos.
To find out more about the author and his books, visit his web site.
~TABLE OF CONTENTS~
