Desert Assassin (19 page)

“So,” asked Morgan, “they fought each other in the ring, but they traveled together?”

“Money was tight back then. Sorta like now with the crooks in Washington stealing every penny they can get their hands on. But they fought to win, not like today. It was a two out of three fall match. Just before the bell for the first fall, Killer is stretching against the ropes in his corner when Moto races across the ring and hits him in the back of the head with a wooden clog from his foot. Ref didn’t see it.”

Williams almost made the mistake of saying, “They never do.”

“The bell sounds and Killer is dazed. Moto pins him. Kowalski recovers and is ready for the second fall. The bell rings and some kid in the crowd shoots a peashooter and Kowalski gets hit in his right eye and is all but blinded. He’s holding his eye with his right hand and staggers around the ring. Now this guy tells me that Moto bumps into Killer, falls down and then Killer gets him with a left hand claw hold. The referee counts Moto out and then sees that Moto’s temporarily paralyzed, so he ends the match and Killer wins. Now the crowd doesn’t like this and begins to throw stuff at the ring. Killer and Moto race out of the place.”

“So Moto threw the match?” asked Morgan.

“No, no, even half blinded Killer was an over match for Moto, just like Muhammad Ali – Cassius Clay – in his first bout with Sonny Liston. That’s what the crowd didn’t understand.”

Wanting to make sure Morgan didn’t say anything that might offend Killer, Williams said, “He’s right, Morgan, Kowalski was too tough for Moto.”

Picking up on Williams’ signal, Morgan said, “Let’s take a look at those matches on the screen.”

Killer Two was all smiles.

Williams and Morgan left the diner just before closing time.

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they entered the dining room of the Texas underground complex shortly before one the next afternoon. All the members of the General’s team were having lunch. As soon as Henderson spotted Williams, she raced up to him, gave him a kiss on the cheek and a prolonged hug. Ling bristled.

Hug ended, Williams said, “This is a good friend of mine, Jesse Morgan.”

She knew that he was sincere in referring to Morgan as a good friend. Obviously, circumstances had changed dramatically since the night Morgan and his men invaded Williams’ property. As a result, she extended her right hand. As they shook hands, she said, “I recognized you from the feeds when you were tracking Assassin in the desert.”

“That seems like it was ages ago, Lieutenant.”

“In many ways it was.”

Led by Stanton, the rest of the team members, with the exception of Ling, approached Williams and Morgan.

“I’m Edward Stanton, Major Williams. We have all heard some belief defying stories about you and have seen the video of your incredible confrontation, and incredible may not be the right word, with the Eagle Assassin. I’m hoping that you will be able to afford us some time to hear first-hand what you have experienced.”

Ling mumbled to himself, “Stanton’s fawning over him like a teenager with a rock star.” Reluctantly, he joined the group.

“Jesse and I would be honored, Dr. Stanton.”

“Thank you, Major.” Stanton then introduced the non-military scientists and concluded by say, “And, of course, you know Major Ling.”

“Indeed, I do.”

He then walked up to Ling, offered his right hand and said, “Stan, I can’t begin to tell you how much I – make that we – the General, Jesse and the rest – appreciate your help.”

The first thought in Ling’s mind was that Williams was purposely ridiculing him. As soon as that thought flashed in his brain, he once again asked himself, “Stanley, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Just when he thought the situation couldn’t get any worse, Williams said, “On the way here from New Mexico, I had the opportunity to read the article you wrote three years ago speculating as to whether a moon similar in size to that of the Earth would be critical to the development of life on Earth-sized alien planets. When our present mission is completed, I hope you will share in writing your thoughts as to how life came to exist in the meteorite. Perhaps a joint effort with Dr. Henderson.”

Caught totally off guard, Ling could do no more than say, “Thank you, Bill.”

Henderson, meanwhile, found herself amazed at how different the Williams of the moment was from the Williams she thought she knew in Florida.

Addressing Stanton, Williams said, “If you can squeeze in some time today, Jesse and I will be glad to meet with you and the team. Tomorrow morning, with the assistance of Marco, we want to see what we can learn from Morales.”

“How about meeting with the two of you directly after you have lunch?”

Williams looked at Morgan who said, “I’m looking forward to it.”

The meeting was held in the same conference room as was the first team meeting with Rappaport. Present were Williams, Morgan, Ling, Henderson, the other biologists and Baldarelli.

“Major,” said Stanton, “speaking on behalf of the team, would you be willing to recount in their entirety the events which led to your killing Assassin.”

“I presume you mean from the moment I encountered him while he was armed with a Winchester 88.”

“Yes, and I promise we will hold off all questions until you finish.”

True to Stanton’s word, not a word was spoken as Williams chronicled the episode from the first reflection of sunlight off the barrel of the rifle to his stabbing of Assassin.

All listened in rapt attention, all that is, except for Ling. Well into the monologue, an idea began to form somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind. “Suppose this isn’t Williams? Could he have been infected when he touched Eagle Assassin’s wing?” Arguing with himself, he thought, “Stanley, stop. You are destroying yourself.”

But he couldn’t stop. His fear of losing his Alice and his jealousy of Williams were sweeping over him like a rogue tidal wave. There seemed to be no way to prevent it from destroying him.

Stanton’s voice momentarily pulled Ling away from his self inflicted torture. “Major, I would have been too overcome with fear to have done anything more than pass out had I encountered Assassin as you did. How did you manage to keep your composure?”

“I would be lying if I didn’t admit to being all but paralyzed. However, my time in the Army trained me to try to figure a way out. It was Assassin who provided that possible way out when he said, ‘Don’t move, I would hate to have to end you.’ That told me he wanted something and probably wouldn’t strike until he at least attempted to get it. So I had two things going for me, a little time and a possible rescue by my partner, Art Fowler.”

“I am presuming that his ability to speak must have come as a shock,” continued Stanton.

“Not as much as you might expect. His having the body of an oversized mountain lion and two human arms, not to mention his correctly holding the Winchester, told me that Assassin had somehow overwhelmed a human being and incorporated at least some of the human’s thinking ability and mechanical skills. The ability to speak was, therefore, not that much of a leap. What astounded me the most during those first few moments was Assassin saying he was aware of me shortly after he exited the meteorite.”

“Everything about this species defies Earth logic,” added Patel.

“Permit me to toss out a question,” said Williams. “Any idea how Assassin managed to incorporate Bottomly’s brain into his mountain lion body? Did he take in the brain whole and then the virus took control of it or did the virus replicate the brain?”

“Why don’t you tell us, Major Williams?” thought Ling.

“I wish we knew,” replied Stanton. “As you are aware, we don’t even know if what we refer to as a virus is a virus. What we do know is that every cell in a host organism is controlled by an internal parasite which is identical to every other one in the organism.”

“Do you have any results from the tests you performed injecting Morales’ blood into animals?” asked Morgan.

“We encountered an hiccup, if you will. As a result, we are running a second round of tests. Hopefully, we will have something definitive in twenty-four to thirty-six hours,” answered Stanton. “Also, as you know Assassin had a keen interest in you. Our Morales Assassin will, of course, have the same remembrance of you.”

“I’m looking forward to our session.”

Williams fielded another half dozen or so questions before Henderson asked when did he sense that the scotch was making Assassin potentially vulnerable.

“I began to wonder if he might be affected by it after he finished the second glass. My concern became whether or not there was enough in the bottle to do the job.”

“So the scotch then became part of your strategy,” said McDonald.

“I really didn’t have a strategy, just a hope that an opportunity to somehow gain the advantage would present itself.”

“What Bill didn’t share with you is Fowler’s account of what he saw when he returned,” said Morgan. Morgan started with Fowler’s description of finding Williams sitting next to a dead Assassin, splattered with blood and sitting in a pool of it. When Morgan quoted Williams telling Fowler to give him the Merlot, Henderson laughed and said, “I’m not surprised.”

“Why the hell did she have to say that?” thought Ling. “Is she trying to reveal that she used to sleep with him?”

Absent one, everyone on the team broke into laughter when Morgan said, “Fowler asked Bill if he was okay. Bill then asked, ‘Why, don’t I look okay?’”

They laughed again when Morgan paraphrased Fowler’s response, “Well, other than the fact that you are sitting in a pool of blood and soaked to your head in it and you are next to a dead mountain lion which has two arms, you look great.”

Once his audience had calmed down, Morgan concluded, “I doubt there is another human being who could have pulled off what Bill did against Assassin.” Applause followed as Morgan extended his right hand. Williams then shook hands and hugged the man who not to long before he had sworn to kill.

“If there are no objections,” said Stanton, “let’s take a short break.”

Following the break, Stanton said, “Major, we’ve all seen the video of you approaching and somehow communicating with Eagle Assassin. What were you thinking?”

“Before I try to answer that, the story of how my partner, Art Fowler, captured Morales might be of value as you continue your research. Jesse, would you take it please?”

“Thank you, Bill.” He then entertained his audience with the details of Fowler’s capture of Morales, careful to leave out any mention of the General’s scotch drinking idiosyncrasies. He concluded by saying, “If any of you are contemplating using this material for a book, you’ll have to contend with Fowler who plans to make a fortune with a book titled
The Drunken Desert Alien.”

After a number of questions were fielded by Morgan, Stanton turned to Williams. “What were you thinking when you decided to approach Eagle Assassin?”

Williams looked at Morgan and said, “Credit needs to be given to Jesse’s son for knowing the best possible way for us to capture Eagle Assassin without either further injuring it or causing its death. I suspected that it had the original Assassin’s memory and would, therefore, remember me for not have ‘ended’ it in the early days of our encounter. I figured that gave me a much better chance of getting Assassin into the box than Cyclo would have had. By the way, Morgan and I plan to visit it after we visit Morales. How is Eagle Assassin doing?”

“The wing is whole, but he will never fly again,” answered Stanton.

“Even if he could fly, we couldn’t let it.”

“Obviously, you were able to communicate to some degree with it. Can you describe how you did so?”

Williams then repeated almost verbatim what he told the General when he asked, “What the hell were you thinking when you went over to that bird? Do realize how easily it could have attacked you?”

After answering several questions, he said, “I’m turning the floor over to Jesse who will fill you in as to where we are in our field battle against the replicates of Assassin.”

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to Westerlind’s property by one of Morgan’s pilots. The pilot was assigned to stay with the helicopter at all times in order to be ready to fly at a moment’s notice.

“I’ve slept in a lot worse places,” he told McBride when informed that he would call the barn home for the duration of the mission. Fourteen hours after delivering McBride, he was called back to the General’s base camp to pick up Army Captain Don Mueller. Mueller was to join Fowler, Cyclo and McBride in the search for humanoid assassins.

“Mule!” shouted Fowler when McBride drove Mueller from Westerlind’s to the motel.

“You’re still alive!” responded Mueller.

Mueller was a second lieutenant in same platoon as was then Corporal Fowler in Iraq. It was Mueller more than anyone else who was responsible for saving Fowler from a court-martial for his role in torturing Iraqi prisoners. He managed to convince their company commander to try to bury what happened in order to avoid publicity. The company commander, in turn, was able to convince a one-star to go along with it. Fowler, as a result, received a dishonorable discharge.

Following introductions, Cyclo looked at Mueller and said, “Mandrake the Magician.”

“What?”

“Your namesake.”

“My namesake?”

“Yes.”

“You do know that I have no idea what you are talking about?”

“Don Mueller played major league baseball from 1948 to 1959, mostly for the Giants. He had a lifetime batting average of .296 and had the second highest batting average in the National League in 1954 at .342. Also hit .389 that year in the Giants’ sweep of the Indians in the World Series.

“Other than following the Phillies when they are winning, I’m not a big fan of baseball, but I am surprised I never heard of him.”

“Probably because he was overshadowed by Willie Mays. It was Mays who won the fifty-four batting title hitting .345.”

“Mandrake the Magician?”

“That was his nickname. He was predominantly a singles hitter and had a seemingly uncanny knack – magic if you will – for getting balls to roll through the infield for hits. Mandrake the Magician was a popular comic strip cartoon during the time Mueller played. Hence the nickname.”

“How come you know so much about Mueller?”

“He knows the stats of every player who every played,” said McBride.

“Bull. What did you do, let him know I was coming?” Mueller laughed.

“He had no idea who was coming.”

“You’re telling me that if I give him a player’s name he can give me any batting or pitching stat?”

“Yep.”

“I’ve got ten says he can’t.”

“You’re on.”

“I grew up in Philly in the seventies and eighties. Jerry Koosman was near the end of the line when he played for the Phillies. How many games did he win for them?”

“Twenty. Fourteen in 1984 and six in 1985.”

“Let me look it up,” said McBride. With that, he pulled up Koosman’s stats on his tablet and passed it on to Mueller.

“Why didn’t you warn me?” he growled at Fowler.

“Don’t blame me, Mule, you made the bet.”

Mueller passed a ten to McBride who asked, “Want to try again?”

“No, but I’d sure as hell like to know how he does it.”

“That will cost you another ten.”

“Bull.”

“He has a photographic memory. Anything he sees, he remembers,” said Fowler.

“So, you all sucker punched me.”

“Yep,” said McBride.

“Okay, let’s forget that. Why am I here?”

It took the better part of three hours, including over an hour’s worth of parts of the videos put together by Williams, Henderson and Ling, to get him up to speed.

“If it’s okay with you, Don, you’ll work with Art and I’ll team up with Cyclo,” suggested McBride. We’ll start in the morning unless something unusual happens in the area before then.”

“Before we visit Assassin Morales,” said Baldarelli, “there are some things the two of you should know.”

“Shoot,” said Williams.

“The bugger is incredibly intelligent and gets smarter by the day. Just from the time I’ve spent in there with him, he’s become fluent in English. He seems to soak up everything and he fires question after question at me. Also, he has asked for a television, a computer and more scotch.”

“What did you tell him?” asked Morgan.

“That I would pass his requests on to higher authorities. He has been told nothing about the outside world, either by me or the scientists.”

“Good.”

“One more thing, since the first interrogation, I’ve been letting him have two small glasses of scotch after dinner.”

“No problem.”

Williams, Morgan and Baldarelli then walked into the threadbare interrogation room serving as Assassin Morales’ cell. In it were a twin-size mattress resting on a wooden frame, a small table with a chair and a recently installed sink and toilet. As soon as the three entered the room, Morales stared at Williams and then at Morgan. There was no question that he recognized both of them.

Looking directly at Williams, speaking in English and without hesitating between words, Assassin, as Williams thought of him, said, “I have been wondering when I would have the opportunity to speak with you.”

Notwithstanding the heads up from Baldarelli, Assassin’s command of English startled both of them..

“We meet again,” replied Williams.

“You could have ended me many times during our first encounters. You did not. Thank you.”

Williams immediately picked up on the use of ‘ended’ instead of ‘killed’ by this Assassin. Its human brain came from Morales, an illegal alien, while the one Williams first encountered came from Fred, the unfortunate rancher. Neither of the two humans would have used ended instead of killed, therefore the choice must have had some significance to Assassin and possibly to his species. In addition, Assassin’s question confirmed what Williams had learned from Baldarelli’s initial scotch enhanced interrogation – this Assassin thought of himself as the original and, perhaps, he was the original.

“You are welcome, but it would seem that was a mistake on my part.”

“Why do you consider allowing me to live to be a mistake?”

Williams paused to make certain that he didn’t reveal anything beyond what this Assassin had experienced. “You attacked and destroyed one human being and had you not been captured, I suspect you would have continued to do so to others.”

“Morales was in your country illegally and was a criminal. I believe you should consider what I did to him to be a favor.”

Williams took note of Assassin referring to Morales in the past tense. “You are in our country illegally and you committed a criminal act.”

“I believe your laws apply only to human beings.”

Both Williams and Morgan fought urges to laugh. There was no question that Baldarelli was correct in his assessment of Assassin’s intelligence.

“You can be classified as a non-United States citizen enemy combatant,” said Morgan.

“May I assume you are part of the same organization as Baldarelli?”

“Yes.”

“What would that be?”

“That is classified information.”

Turning to Williams, Assassin said, “I see by your uniform your name is Williams and you are a major. What is your full name?”

“I am Major Bill Williams.”

“Why did you not end me during the early times?”

Williams repeated what he had said to what he considered to be the original Assassin.

“Where are my others?”

“That is classified information,” replied Williams.

“The two of you have come here for information. Perhaps we can trade.”

“What do want?”

“Word of my others. If that is non-negotiable at the moment, then knowledge of your world beyond what I know of it from the memory of Morales and the little I have seen. It seems to be a barbaric world.”

Williams fought an urge to mention the brutal killing of the couple attacked by the other Morales and how different the words of this Morales seemed from the actions of the other. He also recalled that the original Assassin claimed no knowledge of anything prior to his sensing the presence of Williams after emerging from the meteoroid. This seemed to be an opportunity to see if, along with maturation, this Assassin could recall anything about its genesis, or that of its species. “Do you remember anything of your existence prior to your arrival here on Earth?”

“Until recently, nothing. However, over the past several days, I have a recurring image of thousands of meteors similar to the one which brought me to your planet. They are lined up in columns and rows which seem to be equal, or close to equal, in numbers of the meteors.”

“Would you mind if Major Ling joined us?” asked Williams.

“No.”

“Major Ling,” said Baldarelli, “Major Williams would like you to join us in the interview room with the Assassin.”

At the time of the request, Ling was with the ensemble of biologists feeling like a third wheel. He immediately imagined the worse, but could not imagine what that might be.

Williams was standing outside of the interrogation room with the door to the room closed. “Thank you for coming, Stan. Remember that this Assassin has the memory of the original. Whatever you do, do not mention the existence of any of the other iterations.” He then went on to summarize the conversation with Assassin.

“What are you looking for from me?”

Williams noted a terseness in the question. Your expertise in astrophysics. We will have Assassin repeat what he told us and I would like you to take the lead in questioning. Even if he doesn’t have much more to add at this time, he may as he continues to develop intellectually. I would like you to meet with him – make certain Baldarelli is present – at least twice a day until further notice. I may be way off base on this, but if what he said about the large number of meteors is fact, the implications are potentially nightmarish. You are the most qualified to figure out whether the meteor account is true or not.”

“Before we continue,” said Assassin, “what can you do in return?”

“I see you are learning the workings of capitalism,” said Morgan.

“For starters,” interjected Williams, “we will supply you with books, world history, for example. Do you prefer them in English or Spanish?”

“Both, this will help me with the reading of English. Please add a dictionary and, if possible, a Spanish-English book of translation.”

“Done. Let Major Ling and Agent Baldarelli know what else you may need or want. Understand, however, that there are limitations. Please repeat for Major Ling your images of the meteors.”

As soon as Assassin finished, Ling asked, “Do you remember the surface on which they were resting?”

Assassin paused for a few moments before answering. “No, they seemed suspended in air or perhaps in space. The background color was a faint reddish. Nothing else.”

“Any sounds?”

“No.”

“You mentioned thousands of the meteors. Can you be more specific?”

“At least ten thousand.”

“Thank you.”

“Can you tell us how you captured or whatever it was that you did to Morales to take over his body and brain?” asked Morgan.

“That is classified information.”

This brought smiles to Williams, Morgan and Baldarelli. Williams then gave a brief explanation of the context of Assassin’s answer to Ling and followed this up by looking at Assassin and saying, “Thank you very much.” He then exited the room. Morgan, Baldarelli and Ling followed.

Referring to the abrupt exit, Morgan said, “Let me guess, Bill, you know that he wants much more than the books.”

“Exactly.”

Turning to Ling, Williams said, “Stan, Morgan and I will be leaving late this afternoon. I would like you to take charge of the questioning of Assassin on two fronts. One, keep probing to see if he is able to add anything to his meteor or meteoroid story. We need to know if there is any truth to it. Two, try to see what he will accept to give us information as to how the hell he did what he did to Morales. Cyclo is certain it was done by infecting him. We would like to know how that infecting was done. Call either Morgan or me if you get anything.” Williams and Morgan left, leaving Ling to wonder if they were setting a trap for him.

“Jesse, I would like to visit Eagle Assassin by myself.”

“I understand, Bill. When you are finished, join me. I’ll be in the bar.”

The bar, officially named “The Last Stop,” was the one place in the underground complex, other than the dining hall, which served liquor. As was to be expected, it was exceedingly popular from its 10:00AM opening until its 1:00AM closing.

Just before Williams was about to enter the room housing Eagle Assassin, he was intercepted by Stanton. “Major, may I have a few moments of your time?”

“Of course.”

“The team is making progress, but it is slow. We have reached some conclusions. First, while the Assassins can replicate seemingly at will, they cannot transform themselves back into any of their previous forms. To transform themselves, they require an external catalyst.”