Area 51: Excalibur-6 by Robert Doherty
Authors: Robert Doherty
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, adventure, Historical, Fantasy, Action & Adventure, Action, Political, Area 51 (Nev.)
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wall flickered off for a few seconds and three figures walked out. The shield returned as they approached the helicopter and got on board. The aircraft was off the ground in a hurry, the pilots not wanting to be in the "hot" area or near the strange shield longer than needed.
In the rear of the chopper, Lexina and her cohorts, Elek and Coridan, were on the first leg of the mission they had been given by Artad.
PEARL HARBOR, HAWAII
Admiral Kenzie shut off his SATPhone. What Turcotte had just told him confirmed his worst fears. He looked at the satellite imagery once more. There was no mistaking the two carriers flanking the massive tanker. The last message from the Norfolk lay crumpled on his desk. Kenzie was CINC-PAC, Command in Chief, Pacific Area Command. The last month of his tenure had been a disaster on a scale exceeding the worst in American military history. The two captured carriers and assorted escort ships in the photo pictured two-thirds of his naval might.
He had one carrier group left in this hemisphere—the USS Kennedy. It was anchored less than a mile away in Pearl Harbor. And the Alien Fleet—his own ships—were less than a day away, steaming at flank speed.
Through the windows of his office, Kenzie could see Honolulu to the east, all the way to Diamond Head. There were a million people on Oahu, with another half million on the other islands in the chain. A million and a half 86
people. Never, not once since taking this position, had Kenzie ever thought those people would be threatened. He never dreamed that he would have to make the decision facing him today.
His phone buzzed and his secretary's voice came out of the box. "The president is on the line, Admiral."
He stared at the phone for a moment, then picked it up. "Mister President, Admiral Kenzie here."
"I've been listening to my National Security Council, Admiral, about the various options. None of them sound good to me. You're the man in the hot seat. What do you say?"
"Mister President, I recommend Task Force Eighty put to sea."
"And?"
"Sir, we can't penetrate the shields surrounding the ships in the Alien Fleet. I believe that fighting it out will only end the same way the last several confrontations with the Airlia fleet have been resolved—with Task Force Eighty becoming assimilated into their forces. And Eighty is the last line of defense not just for Hawaii but for the West Coast of the United States."
The president's voice rose. "So you're just going to turn tail and hide?"
"No, sir." Kenzie turned his chair so he could look out of his office to the west. Like a forest of gray, he could see the masts of the ships anchored in Pearl. "I want permission to take the fleet to sea, swing westward around the Alien Fleet—which Aspasia's Shadow won't expect—and prepare to attack Easter Island when the shield is turned off."
"And who is going to turn off this shield?" the president asked.
87
Kenzie realized he had to phrase this most carefully. "I am under the impression that various covert units are working on that very problem."
There was a long silence, then the president's voice came back. "That is the advice I am receiving here. God help us."
88
CHAPTER 7: THE PAST
LONDON, ENGLAND
Spring 1924
"Because it is there."
The answer took the reporters by surprise. They'd expected a long patriotic speech about why George Mallory was attempting the Everest climb for God, Queen, and country. He was standing on the wharf, next to the loading plank for the ship that would take him and his partner Sandy Irvine to India and it was the last time the English press would have a chance to talk to him.
He ignored the shouted questions and raised his hands, quelling the outburst.
"You will have to excuse me, gentlemen, but I must do one last check of equipment before we sail. I would hate to have forgotten something important."
As the reporters laughed, he turned without a smile and walked up the gangplank, his new partner
In the rear of the chopper, Lexina and her cohorts, Elek and Coridan, were on the first leg of the mission they had been given by Artad.
PEARL HARBOR, HAWAII
Admiral Kenzie shut off his SATPhone. What Turcotte had just told him confirmed his worst fears. He looked at the satellite imagery once more. There was no mistaking the two carriers flanking the massive tanker. The last message from the Norfolk lay crumpled on his desk. Kenzie was CINC-PAC, Command in Chief, Pacific Area Command. The last month of his tenure had been a disaster on a scale exceeding the worst in American military history. The two captured carriers and assorted escort ships in the photo pictured two-thirds of his naval might.
He had one carrier group left in this hemisphere—the USS Kennedy. It was anchored less than a mile away in Pearl Harbor. And the Alien Fleet—his own ships—were less than a day away, steaming at flank speed.
Through the windows of his office, Kenzie could see Honolulu to the east, all the way to Diamond Head. There were a million people on Oahu, with another half million on the other islands in the chain. A million and a half 86
people. Never, not once since taking this position, had Kenzie ever thought those people would be threatened. He never dreamed that he would have to make the decision facing him today.
His phone buzzed and his secretary's voice came out of the box. "The president is on the line, Admiral."
He stared at the phone for a moment, then picked it up. "Mister President, Admiral Kenzie here."
"I've been listening to my National Security Council, Admiral, about the various options. None of them sound good to me. You're the man in the hot seat. What do you say?"
"Mister President, I recommend Task Force Eighty put to sea."
"And?"
"Sir, we can't penetrate the shields surrounding the ships in the Alien Fleet. I believe that fighting it out will only end the same way the last several confrontations with the Airlia fleet have been resolved—with Task Force Eighty becoming assimilated into their forces. And Eighty is the last line of defense not just for Hawaii but for the West Coast of the United States."
The president's voice rose. "So you're just going to turn tail and hide?"
"No, sir." Kenzie turned his chair so he could look out of his office to the west. Like a forest of gray, he could see the masts of the ships anchored in Pearl. "I want permission to take the fleet to sea, swing westward around the Alien Fleet—which Aspasia's Shadow won't expect—and prepare to attack Easter Island when the shield is turned off."
"And who is going to turn off this shield?" the president asked.
87
Kenzie realized he had to phrase this most carefully. "I am under the impression that various covert units are working on that very problem."
There was a long silence, then the president's voice came back. "That is the advice I am receiving here. God help us."
88
CHAPTER 7: THE PAST
LONDON, ENGLAND
Spring 1924
"Because it is there."
The answer took the reporters by surprise. They'd expected a long patriotic speech about why George Mallory was attempting the Everest climb for God, Queen, and country. He was standing on the wharf, next to the loading plank for the ship that would take him and his partner Sandy Irvine to India and it was the last time the English press would have a chance to talk to him.
He ignored the shouted questions and raised his hands, quelling the outburst.
"You will have to excuse me, gentlemen, but I must do one last check of equipment before we sail. I would hate to have forgotten something important."
As the reporters laughed, he turned without a smile and walked up the gangplank, his new partner
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