The War of Pawns (The Human Chronicles -- Book Three) (20 page)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The SEALs weren’t the only ones who had prepared contingency plans in the event the negotiations with the Juireans broke down. Over the past few days, by Presidential order, a master list of political, business and educational leaders had been drawn up. The same was taking place across the planet by governments who had been informed of the impending disaster.

The initial list of Americans was nearly 25,000 strong.

The locations of these 25,000 people were quickly determined, and the ones outside major population centers were placed on a secondary list. Those located in high-target areas were given priority. Secret Service, FBI, military and even CIA officers were dispatched in as many Chevy Suburban’s or Ford Expeditions as could be found, to lie in wait outside the offices, residences or classrooms of the people on the primary list. Helicopters sat on landing pads or nearby fields, engines revved and ready for liftoff should the word come down. Everyone sat and waited.

President Ryan had left the White House the day before and traveled with his wife, two sons and most of his top advisors to a secure location in the granite hills of West Virginia. A few of the top members of Congress had been shuttled there as well. If the negotiations were successful, then everyone would return.

Yet even without an attack by the Juireans, after today the world would never to be the same. The Juireans would still come to the Earth, and the knowledge of alien life could no longer be kept a secret. Whatever civil rights or other laws were broken would be quickly forgiven in light of the events taking place. If the negotiations succeeded, then Ryan and his administration would be hailed as heroes. If they failed, then those who survived, either by fortune or design, would be the lucky ones.

Yet, in the case the negotiations failed, the powers that be had a responsibility to save as much of the planet’s brain trust as possible, no matter what methods that entailed.

The media were going ballistic. With so much activity emanating from the government over the past 72 hours, journalists, bloggers and news organizations were finding it increasing difficult to find anyone who could give them straight answers as to what was happening. There definitely was something going on, yet what it was, not even the people involved knew for sure.

And when the President left the White House, taking with him many of his senior advisors, the White House press corps was apoplectic.

Carla Harmon, the President’s press secretary, did her best at the daily press briefing that morning to assuage their concerns. She told them the President was off on a trade mission to a foreign country that she was not privileged to reveal at the time. These were very sensitive negotiations of vital national interest. Members of the media would just have to be patient.

Carla also knew she was lying. She would be waiting, just like the rest of the staff, for the word on whether or not the negotiations with the aliens succeeded. If not, then she would be on the next helo off the East Lawn. All she had to do was remain calm and confident for this last briefing, and then she could return to her office and await the call.

Her husband and daughter, along with her mother and aunt, had already arrived at her cousin’s home in Louisiana. They had protested at first, but when Carla’s voice cracked, and the tears welled up in her eyes, they knew this was serious. She told them all she could, but they realized that what she couldn’t tell them was something very dangerous. And so they went, and because of that, Carla Harmon was able to put on her normal smiling face and calm demeanor, while the wolves in the media did their best to eat her alive.

I don’t give a damn if any of you survive
, she thought as she beamed her million-dollar smile out at them.
I’ve had just about as much of your bullshit as I can stand!

And when the word finally came, thousands of people across the country and around the world instantly jumped into action.

For the agents watching the people on the primary list, their orders were simple: Acquire the subject and extract from the location, and then transport to a designated extraction point outside of the city. Some of these locations were nothing more than rest stops along a lonely stretch of open highway. Others were schools or government buildings in tiny hamlets very few people had ever heard of.

Benjamin Lechter was an associate professor of chemistry at the University of Chicago. He had just finished an explanation of polymer reactions when two men in blue suits entered his classroom.

“Excuse me. Can I help you?”

“We’re special agents with the FBI. You’re to come with us immediately.”

“What’s this all about? Am I being arrested?” Lechter asked. Some of his male students near the front of the class stood and began to move toward the lectern.

“Stay where you are,” one of the agents said, displaying his service revolver under his suit jacket.

 
“You are not under arrest, sir,” said the other agent, approaching the professor. “This is for your own protection. If you do not come with us voluntarily, we are authorized to remove you by force.”

Lechter held up his hand to the gathering crowd of angry students. “It’s okay,” he said to them. And then to the agents, “I’ll go with you, but I’m going to need a full explanation very soon.”

“Everything will be explained once we reach our destination.”

“Are my students in any danger?” the professor asked.

“We don’t have any information regarding that. Please come along, Professor. We don’t have much time.”

Concerned, Lechter turned to his students, “You’re dismissed, and please leave the campus as soon as possible. I don’t like the sound of what’s going on.”

This same scene was repeated thousands of times around the globe. Most people came along peacefully, while others had to be physically removed and placed into cars, SUV’s or shoved onto helicopters. Others were able to put up such a fight, either by themselves or with the help of others, that the agents had to retreat. The orders called for the agents to use whatever force was deemed appropriate without harming the subject. Yet if extracting the subject was not possible without harm, then the agents were to retreat and meet at the extraction point anyway. Little did the thousands of agents who participated in this part of the operation know, but their own lives were being saved in the process.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Maria Cain was exhausted by the time she left her neighbor Ginny’s house to return to her own. Ginny Forrester was crowding 70 years of age, and loved to talk – to put it mildly. Unfortunately, Maria had to tolerate Ginny’s verbosity, seeing that the elderly lady was Cassie’s primary babysitter in the neighborhood. But this latest episode had almost been too much to bear.

Maria had returned home from her job as a part-time cashier at Kroger’s, and had dropped her purse on the kitchen counter before heading five doors down the street to pick up Cassie. That was two hours ago. And now, after listening to the results of Ginny’s latest physical exam, and about how the new medicine she was on gave her incredible cramps and flatulence, as well as a dozen other related and unrelated topics which the old woman droned on about, Maria was finally headed home with Cassie in tow.

Maria was grateful for the job she had at Kroger’s, even though it did involve needing a babysitter. Jobs weren’t that plentiful these days, especially in a military town full of spouses looking for part-time work to supplement their family’s military pay. Maria worked six hours a day, four days a week, beginning at six in the morning. So by noon, she was heading home, able to spend the rest of the day with Cassie, who had just turned three, and craved her mother’s attention nearly 24/7.

The survivor’s benefits Maria received from the Navy helped out a lot, and the life insurance policy on Adam had helped pay off the minivan – even though it had taken nearly a year to receive! She put the remaining balance of the $100,000 in savings. Even though the money she had meant she didn’t have to work, she still needed a distraction from raising Cassie by herself. It also helped fight the loneliness she felt since Adam’s death, and just being out among other people, especially working in a grocery store, helped out immensely.
 

After returning to the house, Maria set about fixing Cassie a snack, and then proceeded to round up the myriad of toys strewn about the living room. Her purse remained on the counter, her cell phone buried in its depths.

Finally, around four in the afternoon, Maria decided to call her manager at the store to check on getting some extra hours over the coming weekend. Ginny’s great grandchildren were coming over on Saturday, and Cassie always loved to play with kids her own age. That would take most of the day. Saturday was normally Maria’s normal day off, but with Cassie occupied at Ginny’s, she could easily work a full shift, if one was available.

As she pulled the iPhone from inside her purse, Maria noticed the one missed call, and one new voicemail notices. Once she had scrolled through the screens and placed the phone to her ear, she suddenly felt her knees go weak, and she dropped to the floor, holding the kitchen counter with one hand, the phone in the other.

As she listened to the message three more times, she fought through the flowing tears and erupting emotions to focus more on the second part of the message, and less on the first – even though the first part was tremendous. Adam was alive! But there was a more ominous tone to what Lt. Tobias was saying, and all she could think of at the moment was …
where’s Cassie!

She climbed to her feet and ran into Cassie’s room. She wasn’t there! Then she went into the master bedroom and found the child sitting on the bed, with a storybook in her lap. Maria scooped her up in her arms.

“Come on, baby, we have to go for a drive.” Her voice was trembling, as was her body.

“Are you all right, mommy?”

“Yes, everything’s okay.”

“But you’re shaking.”

“It’s nothing. I’m just cold. Let’s go.”

Maria strapped Cassie into the car seat in the back of the minivan, and then climbed into the driver’s seat. As she began to back out of the driveway, she was distracted by a flickering light that lit up the interior of the minivan. She looked up to see a meteor-like ball of fire streaking down from the sky directly in front of her. She gunned the accelerator and raced into the center of the cul-de-sac. Then shifting gears, the minivan shot down the street – just as a tremendous wall of fire erupted to her right…