X War Trilogy: X WAR

By John Triptych

A series of events begins a shocking revelation that will change everything. Strange lights in the night sky, the disappearance of scientists on the verge of a breakthrough -a growing threat emerges from an unknown enemy- and the chosen few who will decide the fate of humanity...

For Earth's inhabitants there remain many possibilities, yet one devastating reality: we are not alone.

If you're into UFO conspiracies, political and technological thrillers, and epic, edge of your seat adventures, check out this complete, action-packed trilogy from John Triptych.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Triptych
• Release date: Dec 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393013167

John Triptych

John has varied interests, and his love of everything is reflected in genre-busting novels ranging from real world thrillers all the way to mind blowing science fiction. A consummate researcher, he derives great pleasure and satisfaction when it comes to full spectrum world building and creating offbeat characters based on the real life people he meets in his travels. Website: https://ko-fi.com/johntriptych VIP mailing list: http://eepurl.com/bK-xGn

Book preview

X WAR Infiltration

1 Northern Wisconsin

STARING INTO THE CABIN's stone fireplace, Greg Barton leaned back on the old wooden chair and tried to relax, but he just couldn't. He had thought this hunting trip would take some of the stress away, but the problems in his life seemed to be just over his shoulder, haunting him like a clinging specter that wouldn't let go. Whenever his mind wandered, the bad moments would return and settle themselves into his immediate thoughts, making him moody and restless.

The dying embers cast a flickering, orangey illumination across the cabin's interior, partly contrasted by the constant yellowish light from the antique oil lamp on the nearby table.

Barton continued to watch, his eyes transfixed by the fading glow as the air around him began to cool. He should have gotten up and thrown another log into the fire when it started to burn itself out, but his body refused to move. Whatever strength he had remaining subsided along with the fire as he held the quilted blanket ever closer around his body.

The door to the outside opened with a creak, and a short, brown bearded man stepped inside after using the outhouse. Nate Wilson was originally from Canada, before taking his family south of Lake Superior and settling down in Green Bay. He had known Barton for years, and this was their eleventh annual bear hunt.

Nate glanced towards the dying fire before he turned his attention towards Barton. What the hell? It's about to go out. We're going to freeze in a minute here.

Barton shrugged. I’ve got a blanket.

Shaking his head, Nate strode over to a pile of firewood and placed several small logs into the hearth before stroking them with a metal poker, hoping they would ignite. After a few minutes, the fire was restarted, and he sat down on a nearby wooden bench after putting the poker back in place.

Barton closed his eyes, feeling the expanding waves of heat as the fireplace began to roar back to life. Five minutes past midnight, and he would be turning in soon in order to be rested for the early wake up call.

Nate made a low hiss. You're welcome.

Sorry, there's been a lot of things on my mind lately.

Like what?

Barton reopened his eyes and turned to face the other man. Evelyn. She wants a divorce.

Nate's eyebrows shot up. Really? That sucks. I was wondering why you've been in a dark mood since this morning.

Yeah, she wants half of everything, and she's gonna take me to court if she doesn't get what she wants.

Nate shook his head. Cosmic bitch.

She told me I could buy out her share of my business and she'll only take cash. My business—the shop my daddy owned and willed to me just before he died. Can you believe that?

I tell you, the damned courts stripped away our rights and gave it all to the women now. This country is screwed. It's like that in Canada too from what my brother told me.

Barton gritted his teeth. I swear if Evelyn had walked up to the bait we set up this afternoon, I would have shot and skinned the bitch. That's how much I hate her right now.

Amen to that, partner. I would have helped you out in skinning her.

If we don't spot a black bear by tomorrow, maybe we oughta—

Their conversation was interrupted when the front door opened up again, and a third man leapt inside. Jonathan Hoyt was the third and final member of their hunting group, and his blue eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as he stared back at the other two while catching his breath.

Nate leaned back on the bench, using the side of the nearby table for support. You going to divorce your wife too?

Hoyt shook his head while energetically gesticulating with his hands. Guys, you're not gonna believe what I just saw out there in the woods!

Nate started to chuckle. Let me guess, Greg's wife Evelyn? I bet she's going to take this cabin too since it's in his name, he said, pointing a finger towards Barton.

No! Hoyt exclaimed before lowering his voice to a near whisper. I saw Bigfoot.

Nate howled in laughter while Barton closed his eyes and shook his head slowly from side to side.

I'm not kidding, guys, Nate insisted. I was by my truck and sorting out some stuff at the back for tomorrow's hunt when I saw something moving around, less than twenty feet away.

Barton remained skeptical. There's nobody out here for miles. This whole place is private property, and inaccessible to the public. If someone drove up to the cabin we'd have heard them by now.

Maybe the Sasquatch was driving one of those newfangled electric cars so we wouldn't hear it, Nate quipped.

Hoyt made his way over to a work table and picked up a Remington Model 783 rifle lying on the countertop beside a six-pack of crushed beer cans. After checking to make sure there was a round in the chamber, he grabbed an extra magazine and placed it into the pocket of his hunting vest.

Nate got up and made a calming motion with his hands. Whoa, wait a minute. If there is something out there, it's probably just another man.

I know what I saw, Hoyt said as he moved towards the door.

Barton stood up as well, letting the blanket fall to the floor. If there's someone else out here, he might try to steal our stuff.

Hoyt glanced back at them. I'm telling you guys it wasn't a man! It must have been at least eight feet tall, and covered in fur.

Barton pointed towards the other man's rifle. And what are you going to do with that?

Since you guys don't believe me, fine. I'll just go and bag it for you.

Hold on, Ed, Nate said as he tried to block the doorway. Let's say we believe you. It's probably just some idiot wearing an ape suit out there trying to prank us. If you shoot him and he dies, you could end up in jail.

It's not a man that's out there, Hoyt repeated. It didn't even move like a man. I saw it in the corner of my eye, and it had very long arms, its fists were nearly touching the ground. When I turned on my flashlight and tried to get a bead on it, it moved quickly behind a tree and—

Hoyt's words were cut off when all three men heard a strange bellow coming from the outside.

Barton leaned forward while looking out the window, but saw nothing but the suffocating darkness. What the hell was that?

Bear? It sounded like one, Nate said.

That was no bear, you idiot, Hoyt said. It's the Bigfoot.

As all three of them began peering out from the closed window, the night sky suddenly became as bright as day, as if a giant searchlight was pointed down at the entire cabin.

Barton looked away as his eyes were temporarily blinded. Goddamn it, what in the hell is going on?

Nate partly opened up the window in front of him. Whoever is out there, this isn't funny. We've got guns and this will turn ugly if you try anything else!

Without warning, the burning lights above them were suddenly extinguished, plunging the entire area into darkness once more.

Opening another window, Hoyt poked the barrel of his rifle through the aperture. Rubbing his eyes to get rid of the flash blindness, he tried using the scope after about a minute. I can see some real big shapes by the trees. I think they're all around us.

Nate continued to disbelieve what was happening. Isn't that Indian Reservation just a few miles north of us? Maybe they're just doing one of their ritual dances or something?

It was all too much for Barton as he too grabbed his own rifle from the table and cycled the bolt, chambering a 7.62mm round into it before walking up to the window once more.

Nate could barely breathe. Guys, don't start shooting yet, okay? If you do then the law is gonna come down hard on us.

Barton peered through the scope of his Ruger M77 bolt-action rifle as he trained the weapon to his left, right where their cars had been parked. He held his breath when he saw large humanoid shapes moving slowly around his Ford pickup. After observing one of them placing what looked like an arm on top of his vehicle's hood, he finally snapped and pulled the trigger.

The crack of gunfire was like a large cherry bomb going off. The shadowy shape he had been aiming at seemed to momentarily stagger after he shot it, before letting out a deafening, enraged roar.

Barton shuffled backwards in panic as the outside shadows began to converge towards the cabin. Nate cried out in alarm while reaching for his rifle as Hoyt began to fire at the advancing horde.

Hoyt managed to shoot off three rounds before his magazine was empty. Just as he reached into his vest pocket to try and grab for more ammunition, a large arm covered in black fur reached in through the window and seized his rifle by its barrel. Hoyt gave a defiant curse as he tried to hold on to his weapon, only for his whole body to be suddenly yanked through the window, bursting through the upper glass pane.

Nate screamed as he tried to use his body as a counterweight against the things that were trying to smash the door down. He had managed to slide the locking bolt in place, but it didn't seem to matter as the thick wooden door was quickly splintered like matchsticks, and the horde poured through.

The last time Barton saw his friend was when several trunk-like hirsute arms were grabbing at Nate, and they pulled him past the now open entryway. Nate tried to hold on to the doorsill, but his attackers had so much strength it hardly seemed to matter as he was dragged out into the darkness, kicking and screaming before they started to tear him apart.

With a sense of hopelessness overcoming what was left of his courage, Barton got on his knees while the rifle slipped away from his hands. Please. Leave me alone.

One of the creatures sauntered into the room and loomed over him.

When Barton saw the red glow coming from its eyes he cried out in horror.

2 Russia

MID-NOVEMBER, AND THE snow was already falling hard onto the streets outside. Oleg Ivanov counted himself lucky to have followed the lights in the sky when he woke up after his latest drunken stupor, and found an open doorway leading into the old factory's interior. The small fire he made from scraps of cardboard and paper didn't give off too much heat, but at least it was enough to keep him from dying.

Located just west of the Urals, Perm was a city split between two banks of the Kama River. When Ivanov was born, the city had been called Molotov, so named after the diplomat who had engineered a non-aggression pact with Germany before the Great Patriotic War started. After Stalin's passing, Molotov too fell from power, and the city was renamed back to Perm once more.

Blinking his eyes open, Ivanov propped himself up to a sitting position by the side of the waist-high divider and held his hands out to get warm. Wintertime meant near endless cycles of twilit night across this part of the world, and the cold weather had nearly killed him when the season began. To be homeless was hard enough, but to be homeless during winter would be tantamount to suicide.

I've got another two months in here, he thought as he looked around at the desolate work floor. It was apparent the factory had seen better times, since all that was left were huge empty spaces furnished with nothing but dust and rubble.

Ivanov had once worked in a factory like this, before the fall of the Soviet Union put him permanently out of work. This place is like my life, wasting away until there is nothing left but a shell.

Reaching into the pockets of his worn woolen jacket, he pulled out a crusty piece of bread he had found in the trashcan beside the marketplace before gingerly putting it back inside. I'm not going to eat this yet, he thought. Maybe for breakfast tomorrow.

It didn't occur to him that he couldn't tell what the time was as he fumbled around with his other pockets. The tips of his gloves had worn down, exposing his dirty fingers, and he could feel several matchsticks lining the inner pockets, along with assorted bits of other junk.

When his fingers failed to clasp the small glass bottle, a creeping sense of despair and sadness gripped Ivanov, and his shoulders began to shudder. No! Where did I put the vodka? Did I lose it?

His chin began to tremble as he unbuttoned his coat and threw it off before placing the garment down onto the dusty floor. He ran his hands along the dirt encrusted fabric, hoping to feel a solid, cylindrical bump that indicated there was a bottle inside one of the outerwear's hidden pockets.

A man's voice echoed across the work floor. Hey you! What are you doing in here?

Turning his head, Ivanov could see a man holding a flashlight approaching him from the other side. This other man wore a uniformed jacket and a peaked cap, indicating he was some sort of security guard.

Ivanov quickly put his coat back on as the guard walked up to him and pointed his flashlight towards the old man's face, half blinding him. Ivanov grimaced as he used one hand to shield his eyes from the beam's dazzling glare.

The guard gritted his teeth as he stood over the derelict. I asked you what you are doing here. Will you answer me or not?

It ... it was cold outside.

So what, this is private property. How did you get in here?

Ivanov's voice was close to a whisper. I-I was out in the street, and I saw some lights in the sky, very close to me. Then I felt something and heard voices. It seemed like they were guiding me so I followed. The lights led me to a door in front of this place, then the lights suddenly flew back up into the sky and disappeared. I tried to open the door and it was unlocked. So now I'm here.

The guard snorted. You're drunk and out of your mind. I'm the night watchman here, and I made sure all the doors are locked. You must have broken into one of them, yes?

Ivanov shook his head. No, no. It was open. I swear in the name of the Soviet Union.

Oh, so you're another of those old useless communists, eh? Get up and put that fire out.

Ivanov slowly got up on his feet. Shuffling closer to the small bonfire, he began stamping down on it, but the right sole of his old shoes suddenly gave way, and he slipped, falling to the hard, concrete floor on his side with a pained groan.

The guard tilted his head up and roared with laughter. You old fools are so worthless, you can't even put a fire out properly. He moved forward and stood over the smoldering pieces, using his boots to snuff the remaining flames out.

Ivanov looked up at him while rubbing his aching hip. You disrespectful young punk. Back in my time, everyone obeyed their elders.

The guard finally lost his patience. He moved closer and grabbed Ivanov by the collar of his jacket, trying to pull him back onto his feet. You're leaving right now, even if I have to throw you out! Do you hear me, you old—

His words were interrupted when a strange hissing noise was suddenly heard by both men, coming from one of the waist-high concrete dividers in the middle of the room.

The guard quickly loosened his grip on the old man's collar before moving sideways and casting his beam of light across the vast, seemingly empty room. Who is there? Come out.

After being let go, Ivanov collapsed back onto the floor, his eyes narrowing in the dusky gloom. He could see something shuffling in the shadows, but he wasn't sure what it was. At first he thought it was some sort of monkey, like the ones he had seen in the circus as a child, but this one seemed to be hairless, and almost as big as a man.

The guard took several steps forward, aiming his flashlight at the twitching form huddling by the corner. What in the world?

Ivanov's eyes grew wide when the being suddenly looked up, right into the illuminated beam of the guard's flashlight. The old man's mind barely registered the combination of wrinkled, granite-like skin, pointy ears, and the mouth that bristled with fangs. But the worst part was the seemingly dead bloodshot eyes, with shining corneas in the darkness.

The creature moved so fast the guard had only enough time to make a short scream before it leapt up and wrapped its long, thin limbs around its victim's body, pinning the terrified guard's arms like a vise.

Ivanov watched helplessly as the creature bit into the side of the guard's throat, tearing out the victim's trachea, while its forked, hollow tongue sucked up the gushing blood from the dying man's now opened throat.

Unable to bear witness anymore, Ivanov closed his eyes and looked away, just as he heard a thud, indicating that the guard had fallen to the floor. His ears continued to hear loud slurping sounds, as if a giant dog was inside the room, lapping up water with its tongue.

The moment seemed to stretch out for an eternity, and all Ivanov could think about was the time he’d spent with his wife, before she died of pneumonia. He could picture her smiling cherubic face, and he knew he would be joining her very soon.

And then the sounds stopped. Ivanov didn't dare open his eyes again as he could sense the horrid thing shuffling closer towards him. His nostrils could smell the bitter, acrid scent of blood, and he hoped that his death would be a quick one.

Be not afraid, a strangely accented voice said, somewhere to his left.

Ivanov's eyes opened into slits, his fear of dying temporarily overcome by a sudden curiosity. As his vision came back into focus, he noticed a woman dressed in strange robes standing several meters away from him. She had olive skin, almond shaped eyes, and an absurdly long headdress that concealed everything else but her face. Ivanov could tell that the creature which had attacked and killed the guard was still somewhere close by, and he dared not turn around.

The woman strode closer, until she was less than a meter away from him. Her thin lips crinkled into a smile, revealing her perfect white teeth. You are Oleg Ivanov, and we have been looking for you.

What... what do you want from me?

You shall be our herald here. You will start a movement, one that will begin the ascension of your species.

3 Tokyo

USING HIS CHOPSTICKS, Dr. Ichiro Himura took another piece of thinly sliced beef from the bubbling hotpot in front of him and wolfed it down, but a tiny bit of the meat got stuck in his throat, and he had to cough for nearly half a minute in order to dislodge it. Normally he would have felt a sense of shame if this had happened out in public, but since he was sitting inside the living room with only his wife present in their high-rise condominium, he kept on eating as if nothing had happened.

Chifune, his wife, gave him a concerned look. You should take your time while having dinner.

Himura shook his head. I am sorry, but I need to get back into the office very soon.

But you've just returned home. Why?

My team will be having a conference call with our British and American colleagues, and I have to be there.

Can this not wait till tomorrow?

No, we're on the verge of a possible breakthrough, so everyone is working overtime—just a few more problems to overcome.

Chifune placed her bowl of rice back onto the small table and sighed.

Himura didn't seem to notice as he leaned forward and pulled out a piece of tofu from the sukiyaki pot with his chopsticks before dipping it into his bowl of raw egg and spices. He looked at his wristwatch before placing the tofu into his mouth and swallowed it without even chewing.

I have barely seen you at home for the past several years, Chifune said softly. You've spent every waking hour at your office.

Himura looked up at her as he chewed on a piece of cabbage. Hmm? What's the matter?

Chifune's lips started to tremble. My mother is in the hospital in Osaka. T-the doctors think it might be cancer. I-I want to visit her, but who would clean and cook for you?

Himura stopped chewing. Why did you not tell me this before?

I told you this last week, but it seems you didn't even listen.

Placing the bowl and chopsticks onto the small table, he got up to a kneeling position and reached out to place a comforting hand on her trembling shoulder. I... I am so sorry.

Chifune placed her hand over her mouth, and just managed to stop herself from crying.

Himura sat back and bowed his head in shame. The theoretical work they were doing back at the laboratory had become an obsession of his for the past several years, and it had blinded him to the needs of his own family. Their children were already grown, and all he had left was her. The sudden guilt hit his stomach like a freight train, and his appetite was all but gone.

Chifune snorted softly before reaching out and placing her hand over his. Do not feel guilty. I fully support your work, even though you don't really tell me what it's about.

We were sworn to secrecy, he said sheepishly. It's an international scientific effort, and our discovery could change everything we know about physics in general. The whole world will benefit, that I can assure you.

You don't have to tell me any more of it. I-I just wish that we could visit my mother. The doctors say it is terminal, and she would appreciate it if we came as a couple.

Himura placed his second hand on top of hers. Then I shall do as you ask. My work is mostly done, and this breakthrough could come at any time. I'll see if I can take the day off tomorrow, and we will take the train to Osaka together.

Chifune looked up at him and smiled. Thank you.

Himura's smartphone started ringing, and he quickly leaned towards his left to pick it up before answering. Hello, yes, I shall see you downstairs. After ending the call he returned his gaze to her. It's the car from the office. They're here to pick me up at the lobby downstairs.

But you haven't even finished your dinner yet.

Himura stood up before bending low and giving his wife a kiss on the cheek. I'm sure there will be some food at the office. I'll be back late tonight, but don't wait up for me. Get some sleep, and we'll head to the train station first thing in the morning.

Chifune watched him move towards the door, where his shoes were located. Alright. Don't push yourself too hard.

After putting on his leather wingtips, Himura blew her a kiss before turning around and opening the door. He still wore the same office dress shirt he'd worn to work that morning, and figured there would be no need to get a fresh change of clothes since his lab coat would cover any sort of wrinkles or stains during the video conference.

Closing the door behind him, Himura walked briskly along the outer corridor, heading towards the elevators. The passageway was mostly deserted except for a lone figure wearing a black trench coat standing near the lift doors.

Himura stopped beside the other individual, and glanced towards him, making a slight bow before pushing the down button. Good evening.

The other man merely nodded in return, and Himura noticed he wore sunglasses that completely concealed his eyes. A gray peaked cap further obscured the stranger's features, and it seemed his alabaster colored skin was paler than normal.

Despite his many years of living in the same building, Himura did not recognize the other man, yet he mentally pushed his suspicions aside, figuring that he was probably someone else's guest. The man's skin also seemed like he might have some sort of medical disorder, but Himura thought it best not to ask, for it was not his business.

When the elevator doors finally opened, Himura took a step forward, and was about to get inside when he ended up gawking at a completely identical stranger who also wore a matching trench coat, hat, and sunglasses.

Himura's eyebrows shot up. The other man looked like an exact duplicate of the one standing beside him. What? Are you both twins or—

He never got to finish his question, as the man right next to him suddenly reached out and pinned Himura's arms behind his back, while the man in the elevator got closer and pressed a damp handkerchief against his mouth and nostrils.

Himura tried to twist away, but the man behind him had absurd strength, and his arms felt like they were being gripped in a steel clamp. In his panic he breathed in deeply, the bleach-like chemical smell from the wet handkerchief overwhelming his senses, and he quickly fell unconscious.

4 Northern Wisconsin

AFTER PARKING HIS TOYOTA pickup truck along the side of the road, Elsner Bravy straightened his tie before walking up the driveway towards the small farmhouse. The Bad River Reservation had a population of less than two thousand residents, and he hoped to finish all his interviews by late afternoon.

A middle-aged, heavyset man wearing a wool sweater emblazoned with the Ojibwe eagle insignia stood beside a wooden workbench, hammering a nail into a block of wood. He noticed Elsner coming up towards him with a slight glance of indifference, before returning his focus back to the task at hand.

Elsner stopped a few meters away and smiled widely. "Good morning, I'm Elsner Bravy, a journalist from the Herald. Is it okay if I ask you a few questions about some strange happenings that were reported a few days ago?"

The man shrugged as he took out another nail from a small cardboard box lying on the table in front of him. I don't know what you mean.

Well, a number of residents in Green Bay and around this area reported seeing some strange lights in the sky last Saturday night. Also, the cops are investigating the disappearance of three bear hunters just south of the reservation. I was hoping to see if anybody over here heard or saw anything, since you live close by.

The man placed the hammer down on the workbench and looked up at him. A bunch of bear hunters disappeared? On Saturday night?

Elsner nodded. That's correct, sir. Those three men were last seen by their families as they headed into a private hunting area, just a few miles south from here. One of their wives reported them missing when all three didn't show up for work on Monday. And when the cops got to their cabin by the woods, they discovered the cars they were driving, but the three people were nowhere to be found.

Oh yeah? This isn't a joke or anything?

I'm serious, Elsner said. The cabin was ransacked. The door had been smashed in. All their gear including their hunting rifles were still inside, and it looked like they had been used too.

Some sort of a fight?

Nobody knows. That's why I drove up here to see if anyone heard or saw anything.

The man drew in a deep breath before turning around and picking up his hammer once again. I really don't have the time to talk to no reporter, mister. I'm too focused on keeping things afloat so I can pay my bills, if you know what I mean.

Elsner could tell by the man's facial expression that he was hiding something. This guy narrowed his eyes when I mentioned Saturday night to him. I bet he knows something since he lives so close. How about I make it worth your while?

The man turned to look at him once again. How much?

Smiling, Elsner pulled out his wallet, took out a twenty dollar bill and held it out in front of him. This okay for a few questions?

The man shook his head and snorted. That's nothing. I got an overdue electric bill I gotta pay.

Elsner pulled out four more twenties for a total of a hundred. This is all I got left.

The man took several steps forward and took the bills from his hand, pocketing the small wad in his jeans. I can say a few things since I did hear something strange that night, but you can't put my name in the papers or anything.

Elsner nodded. No problem. I won't even mention the reservation in my article. Could I get your name, sir? It's for my notes only.

Daniel Howard, but I ain't telling you my Ojibwe name.

That's fine. Could you tell me what you witnessed on Saturday night?

I was here. Sitting inside the house with my wife and kids, just watching TV. One of my boys looked out the window, and he said there were some strange lights in the sky, so we all got up and looked.

What did you see? Could you describe it?

It looked like three lights, sort of arranged like a triangle.

Elsner barely hid his excitement. That's what the other two families I interviewed earlier said too. Same description given by a dozen people in Green Bay. Were they all of equal size, do you think?

I guess so, Howard said, before pausing for a second. No, wait. One was bigger.

Yes, his story is consistent with all the others! He's telling the truth. Did the bigger one look the same?

No, the two smaller ones were like perfect circles of light, but the bigger one was sort of oblong-shaped, if you know what I mean.

I get it. Please go on, Elsner said. He didn't tell the other man the smartphone inside his jacket was actively recording an audio file.

Well, it seemed like the bigger one kinda just sort of hovered over the trees a few miles south. After about ten minutes all the lights just suddenly disappeared.

You don't think it was the moon, was it?

Nah, the moon was to the west.

Okay, thank you, Elsner said. Did you hear anything?

Although the TV was on, the whole area just got suddenly quiet, Howard said. Even the night owls stopped hooting.

So it was all quiet the whole time?

Me and my eldest son were standing outside during the last few minutes of it, and I think I did hear something.

What did you hear?

Gunfire, Howard said. From a rifle, maybe two kinds.

The others didn't tell me this, but he's the one closest to the deserted cabin. You sure?

Damn sure, mister, Howard said. I've hunted since I was a little boy, and I know what rifle fire sounds like.

I'm sorry, I just needed to be sure with regards to the account. What do you think happened?

Howard shook his head. I don't know, and I don't wanna know. That's all I can tell you.

Elsner gave a thin smile. You've told me a lot, and I appreciate it.

As I've told you, I don't want my name on the papers, you hear? If you do, then I'm gonna come looking for you.

Elsner held his palms up in a gesture of peace. I keep my promises, Mr. Howard.

Alright then, other than another strange sound I heard that night, that's pretty much it.

What other sound did you hear?

It was some sort of roar out in the distance. I thought it was a cougar, though my son thought it sounded ape-like, but then—

Howard immediately stopped talking when his eyes darted over the other man's shoulder.

Elsner turned around and saw a police sport utility vehicle park itself behind his truck, and two burly looking tribal law enforcement officers got out and started making their way towards them. Howard quickly moved away from him and went back to work on the block of wood on his table.

The lead tribal police officer walked up to Elsner, who was maintaining his smile. You need to go, sir.

Elsner bit his lip. I'm just passing through and asking a few questions.

We know, the second police officer said. Got a call from our chief saying you've been talking to just about everybody around here. This reservation is sovereign land belonging to the Bad River Band of Lake Superior Chippewa, and you didn't ask permission from any of the tribal committees to conduct any sort of interviews here.

Elsner raised an eyebrow. I have to ask permission just to talk to some people living around here?

The first officer's face was a mask of stone. Don't try to be smart with us, we know all about you. He turned toward Howard. Did you tell him anything?

Howard continued to work on the piece of wood on his table, seemingly unmindful of the other three men standing close by. He just came up here asking some weird stuff. I told him I don't know nothing.

Elsner made a calming gesture with both hands. "Hey look, I'm just a reporter from the Herald, asking about the incident that occurred—"

The second officer cut him off with a wave of his hand. "No, you're not. Our police chief's secretary called up the Herald to do a background check on you. No one's ever heard of you over there."

Elsner started to stammer. I-I'm a-an independent journalist, a-and I submit a-articles to them every once in awhile, so that's probably w-why they wouldn't know me just based on a single phone call.

The first cop took a step closer, until his jutting jaw was mere centimeters away from Elsner's face. I'm giving you ten seconds to turn around and drive away from the reservation. If you don't, then I'm going to arrest you. Got it?

Elsner quickly pivoted and started walking towards his car. Okay, officer, I'm leaving.

He was bothering me, Howard told the two tribal cops before giving Elsner the middle finger as the other man got to his car. Don't ever come back here again, you son of a bitch!

5 Paris

SITTING IN THE SEDAN's front seat, Florian Lartigue reached down and pulled up a small paper bag from between his legs. Placing it on his lap, he kept one eye on the apartment block twenty meters in front of him as he took out the baguette sandwich and bit into it. The slightly sour taste of hummus mixed with boiled vegetables instantly made him retch, and he inadvertently spat out what he had just chewed back into the paper bag.

The tall, hulking black man sitting to his left gave a slight chuckle. That bad?

Wiping his mouth with his wrist, Florian grimaced. Thankfully it was late at night, and the streets were deserted, so he could tell it was just his partner who had witnessed it all. When your girlfriend is a vegetarian, it means you are one too. It is a bit of a curse, but one I am willing to live with, for her sake.

Thierry was called the Bull by the others in the team because of his powerful strength and build, and it seemed he barely fit in the driver's seat. You'd prefer ham and cheese?

I could eat most of what she makes, but her hummus tastes like liquid cement.

Ask her to put some spices into it, like—

Thierry immediately stopped talking when they both saw a thin, gray-haired man with a salt and pepper beard walking down the opposite side of the street before stopping in front of the apartment block entrance. Florian quickly tossed the paper bag into the backseat before pulling out a pair of night vision binoculars from the car's glove compartment and peering through them.

Is it him? Thierry asked.

Yes, it's him.

Thierry quickly pulled out his handheld radio and activated it. Command, this is Bull. Subject just entered the apartment building.

A feminine voice answered. Acknowledged. Stand by.

Both men worked for the DGSI, France's internal security agency. They had been sitting in the car for hours, waiting until their target had finally showed up. The man they had been watching out for was Reza Shirazi, a dissident Iranian scientist who had defected to the West, and now lived in Paris.

In addition to counter-intelligence and anti-terrorism operations, DGSI's other main focus was surveillance of any possible economic and social threats to the country. One of their sources had tagged Dr. Shirazi as a potential high technology leak, and he’d been spotted engaging in conversations with suspected FSB agents, Russia's national intelligence service.

An operation was quickly hatched by DGSI to try and determine what sort of valuable information the man knew, if any. One of DGSI's agents would pose as an FSB operative, and a meeting was quickly set up inside a nondescript apartment in Belleville. With the director present and in communication from the command center at DGSI headquarters, they could decide whether to arrest him or allow Shirazi to continue operating by feeding him false information.

Subject is now just outside the apartment, the voice from headquarters said. Our man will open the door and begin negotiations. Stand by.

Florian leaned back on the front seat and took a sip of water from a plastic bottle to cleanse his palate. He had done this for many years, and the majority of the meets would usually end with a whimper.

Thierry started up the car, but didn't turn on the headlights while keeping his eye on the street. Lanes are clear, no vehicles along the road other than the parked ones.

Florian nodded. When I get back home after this, I'm going to give Babette the best fu—

His words were cut off when a sudden bright light shone down onto the entire street, half-blinding him. The intense glare was like a gigantic spotlight beaming down directly at them, and both men muttered curses while shielding their eyes.

Thierry fumbled as he grabbed the walkie-talkie sitting on his lap, and had to use both hands to operate it. Command, there's a blinding light hovering above us. Did you deploy a helicopter or something?

There was no reply, only static at the other end of the line.

Florian immediately sensed danger. Are we being jammed?

Thierry tried switching to another channel, but it was no use. Command, come in. Team Two, come in. He turned to look at his partner. I can't get anybody.

Turning to his right, Florian made a decision as he pushed the car door open. I'm going.

But we don't have any orders or backup!

I'm going anyway, Florian said. Using his left arm to shield his eyes, he darted across the street and began sprinting towards the apartment entrance while drawing his 9mm Glock 19 pistol. He could hear voices from nearby tenements asking what was going on, as well as the howling of pet dogs.

After an initial bout of hesitation, Thierry cursed as he threw the car door open before sprinting after his partner, pulling out his own Glock and readying it.

Florian was in excellent shape, and he quickly entered the building. Several apartment doors had been opened, with half woken residents wondering where the blinding lights were coming from. Florian ignored them as he raced up the stairs towards the fourth floor, his partner just a few steps behind him.

The outer door of the apartment where the meeting was being held had been closed shut. Florian tried to use the emergency key he had in his pockets, only to stare at a keyhole that had been melted over by some unknown means.

After bounding up the stairs and getting onto the landing, Thierry took a deep breath and began kicking the door open, as Florian gestured at him to do so while he stood back.

After three successive blows, the lock finally gave way, and the door opened inward. Crouching down, Florian aimed low while his partner loomed beside him, Thierry's gun at eye level. Both men uttered gasps at what they saw.

The DGSI operative that was supposed to be meeting the Iranian scientist was lying on the floor. His lifeless face was staring up at the ceiling. The man's eyes were unmoving, his mouth open in a silent scream of death, even though there were no apparent wounds on his body, nor was there any blood on the living room carpet.

Florian could only gape in disbelief at the pair of tall, pale-skinned men wearing trench coats, fedora hats, and sunglasses who were busily carrying the seemingly unconscious Dr. Shirazi towards an open balcony, where the blinding light was directly shining above the inner courtyard of the building.

Thierry aimed his pistol at them. Stop, put that man down and place your hands in the air!

The second pale man quickly let go of the unconscious scientist's legs as he turned around and reached into his trench coat. Thierry opened fire, and two of his shots hit the would-be abductor in the chest. The pale man uttered a strange inhuman shriek before dropping to the floor.

Florian tried to aim his pistol towards the remaining pale man, but the mysterious intruder held up the stunned Iranian in front of him like a human shield, and he couldn't get a clear shot.

The pale man grimaced, exposing a set of fangs around bluish colored gums. He reached into his coat before holding up a fist sized glass sphere and tossed it towards the two DGSI agents.

Look out, Thierry bellowed as he leapt forward, using his own body to shield his partner.

Florian screamed as the entire room was suddenly engulfed in a wave of searing, blinding heat. It felt like he was thrown into a microwave furnace as the solid white light seemed to penetrate every part of his body. The unbearable pain seeped all the way past his closed eyelids, through his internal organs, down to his very bones. It was the last thing he sensed before elapsing into oblivion.

6 Los Angeles

AFTER BUTTONING UP her denim jacket, Piper Torres brought her knees together and let out a deep breath, watching the vapor come out of her mouth as it melded into the chilly night air. The sun had set less than an hour before, but she preferred to sit outdoors and be by herself.

Torrance's Del Amo Fashion Center was one of the biggest malls in the country. A few years back the management had decided to revamp the property, creating open air avenues around some of the various lifestyle stores and restaurants, with manicured date palms and even an outdoor fountain in order to attain a trendy beach aesthetic that was popular with the chic culture scene of Southern California.

While the mall patrons preferred the indoor areas of the structure when evening fell, Piper didn't want to be around other people, so she continued to sit on one of the benches facing the lighted, multicolored fountain, just south of the movie theaters. She had hung out with her friends from high school for most of the day, but the others had all left to go back home, and Piper didn't want to do that, not yet.

She hadn't looked her parents in the eye, not since the day her brother died. In her junior year after she had gotten her driver's license, her daddy gave her a used car as a present. The next evening she had been invited to a party at the house of one of her friends, but her parents insisted that her younger brother Derek accompany her. Piper reluctantly brought the twelve-year-old along.

The evening had started out okay. The music had a fast beat, and the adults weren't home. After telling her brother to go make himself invisible, she fell in with her clique. Lots of boys showed up, some carrying six packs of lights and lagers that they stole from nearby liquor stores during a beer run, while others brought weed. One of the guys gave out even harder stuff. Piper sat there while two of her close friends snorted lines of cocaine. Not willing to be left out, she tried half a pill of ecstasy.

She could barely remember what happened next. The police later told her that she had insisted on driving herself and her brother back home, even though a few of her friends suggested not to. Piper woke up in a hospital bed the next morning. They said her car had collided with a tree. When she asked about her brother and they were slow to answer her, she knew then Derek was dead.

Aside from the broken arm, she came out relatively unscathed. Her mother stopped speaking to her, and her father barely acknowledged her presence. She stayed away from school for the rest of the semester, and begged to be transferred. The district superintendant granted Piper's request, and she started her senior year at another high school. Piper just couldn't take all the gossiping behind her back, all the hard stares, and felt a need to start over again.

The cold air continued to sap away at her, but she remained rooted to the bench. Piper would be graduating next spring, and she knew she was going to be alone in the world. They're going to kick me out of the house as soon as I graduate, she thought. I need to find a job and try to get a roommate or something.

After a long moment of inner contemplation about what she would do with the rest of her life, Piper heard some chuckling behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see a gaggle of youths coming out of the movie theater, backslapping and pushing each other while making crude, juvenile jokes at one another's expense. One of them looked familiar. When a couple of them turned in her direction, she looked away.

Holding her breath, she looked down at the concrete tiles on the ground. It's him.

A voice belonging to one of the young men came from behind her. Piper?

Biting her lip, she turned around and looked up into his freckled face and wavy hair. Jeff Gamble had been her boyfriend back at her old high school. She couldn't think of anything to say, so she just gave a faint smile instead.

Jeff smiled back, before he turned and waved at the rest of the group. I'll see you guys later. The others didn't seem to recognize her, and they soon moved off, back towards the mall interior, where it would be warmer.

Her former boyfriend casually walked around until he stood in front of her. Can I talk to you for a minute?

If you want to, Piper said softly.

So how you been?

I'm okay, I guess.

Did you transfer to another school or something?

Torrance High.

Placing his hands into the forward pockets of his varsity jacket, Jeff gave an energetic nod. We beat them in volleyball last week. Saxons are number one!

So I heard.

I'm one of the team captains now.

That's great, Jeff. I'm happy for you.

So... you got a new boyfriend at that school?

No, Piper said softly. I keep to myself. What about you?

I dated Shannon a few times, but we're not... exactly official yet.

Shannon Abbott? She's okay. I'm glad you've bounced back.

He rubbed the back of his neck before speaking again. I never got the chance to talk to you after that night. I called your house up several times for over a month. I-I even drove up one night. Your bedroom light was on, but I decided not to go in.

Piper kept her eyes on the ground. Yeah, they told me you called. I-I guess I was just too ashamed to talk to anybody.

Jeff sat down on the bench, but he respectfully gave her some space. Look, I just wanted to say, it wasn't your fault. Keith took some of those vitamin-e pills too, and he couldn't even walk afterwards. Those things were freaking potent.

Despite the cold breeze, her eyes became moist. I-I would do anything to turn back time. My life is so m-messed up now.

Jeff moved closer and placed an arm over her trembling shoulders. It's okay. I still like you, and I don't blame you one bit for wanting to start over.

Piper began sobbing, and her head tilted sideways until it rested on his shoulder. Why did my brother have to die?

I don't know, babe. I kept telling myself that I should have insisted on driving you and your brother home, and I'm still kicking myself for not doing it, he whispered in her ear.

His soothing words and the numbing cold soon dissolved her emotional outburst, and the tears on her cheeks began to dry. Piper straightened herself up, though her right hand remained clasped with his. Thanks, Jeff. I-I think I would have coped better if I had a talk with you. I'm so sorry for snubbing you.

Jeff let out a short chuckle. It's okay, I don't know what I would have done if—

A shout from one of the shoppers strolling through the open concourse while pointing towards the night sky interrupted their conversation, and both teenagers looked up.

The evening was clear of any clouds, but a huge, circular disk of light seemed to hover in the lower atmosphere. Its total area measured nearly a kilometer. The reflected streetlights from the city below gave it an orangey sheen. A strange droning sound could be heard in the distance, while the ground beneath everyone's feet had begun to shift slightly.

Piper's senses were overwhelmed by both the strange disk above and what seemed to be a minor earthquake. She tried to get up, but she nearly fell forward due to the tremors making the tiled floor of the promenade somewhat slippery. Jeff managed to stop her fall as he held onto her and they both slowly stood up.

The roar of jet engines could be heard somewhere out in the distance. The strange object seemed suspended in place as the small earthquake suddenly stopped. Crowds of people had moved out into the open air spaces of the mall, pointing up and gawking.

What is that? Some sort of UFO? Jeff asked aloud.

Piper began blinking rapidly, as a strange projection of images started to overwhelm her mind. At first she thought it was just flashes of lights dancing in front of her eyes, but the forms were so distinct it felt like she was experiencing a vision of some kind. It seemed as if she was standing in front of a TV screen showing actual, lifelike objects appearing in front of her, only she could hear, touch, and even smell them.

She felt her astral body travelling through space. The unending, airless void seemed to stretch out into infinity. At first she seemed to float in the nothingness, unable to move, but her acceleration suddenly progressed, and now it felt like she was being pulled across the cosmos, travelling faster than the speed of light.

Heading towards a blue star, she sensed her body being drawn closer, until all she could see were the pulsating aftereffects of fusion discharges along its gargantuan surface. Without warning, the scene shifted again, to what seemed to be a time in Earth's past, when massive herds of dinosaurs roamed the primordial landscape. Before she could even narrow her senses, Piper felt herself being thrown forward through time.

A succession of strange beings now stood in front of her, each one extending their limbs as a form of greeting. The first was a small, hairless creature with large black oval eyes and mottled gray skin. The second looked like a mix between a human and a gorilla, with long arms and an ape-like face. The third seemed human enough, but when this robed female turned sideways Piper could see she wore a strange conical hat. A fourth being lay partly hidden in shadow, but its eyes blazed in the darkness like tiny red orbs.

The fifth and last image was the most unnerving of all. It was her brother. Derek looked up at her with a pained desperation in his eyes before his mouth opened in a silent moan. The young boy's pleading face grew bigger until it filled the corners of her sight.

With her mind unable to take any more, Piper let out a terror-filled scream before passing out.

7 Minneapolis

NORMALLY A WORKING class bar, Bob's Brewskies in Camden would usually see an influx of less than a dozen regular patrons on a late Sunday night, but the event that had just occurred over Los Angeles was the talk of the entire world, and the place was packed with people from the nearby neighborhoods, all eager to discuss what had just happened out on the West Coast. The family that owned the establishment decided to keep it open until they ran out of beer, and the taps flowed freely.

Ducking underneath the waving arms of tall bearded man who looked like a lumberjack, Elsner Bravy was able to make his way to the edge of the bar and tapped the forearm of the overworked waitress moving assorted glassware behind the bar counter. Could I get another beer? he asked, placing an empty but still frothy mug in front of her.

The middle-aged woman was clearly overworked, yet she nodded anyway. Do you need a new jug, or is it just a refill?

He winked at her while placing a five dollar bill on the counter. My friend wants a new one, but he won't know the difference, so you can fill this one back up.

Sure thing. Holding the glassware under the beer faucet, she quickly refilled the mug all the way to the brim, before using a blunt knife to scrape away the overflowing froth and handing it back to him.

Keep the change, Elsner said as he grabbed the now filled beer mug and began to weave his way through the standing crowd watching the live news on the multiple TV sets near the ceiling. He had been busy interviewing a local ufologist inside the man's home when breaking news from the TV started beaming a live feed from Southern Los Angeles. As they both watched in rapt fascination, he knew then that he was on the right story.

Just as he got close to the booth he was supposed to be sitting in, his smartphone started ringing. Elsner took one look at the caller ID before placing the mug of amber lager on top of a waist-high wooden divider and ducked into a small corridor leading to the bathrooms.

With less ambient noise, he quickly placed the phone to the side of his head. Mom? Thanks for returning my call.

It's all right, dear, his mom said. When you left a text message asking for me to call you back, is it because you haven't paid your phone bill again?

Elsner made a short laugh to lighten the mood. You know me too well, Mom.

Of course I do, Eli. Mothers always know. Let me guess, you need some money again?

He grinned sheepishly, even though he knew she couldn't see him. Yeah, I'm really sorry to bother you like this, but I'm on the verge of a major scoop, so I just need some emergency cash to keep myself going while I finish writing my article and then selling it for mucho dinero before they hand me my Pulitzer Prize for journalism.

There was a pause on the other end before she answered him. Eli, why don't you get a real job?

This is a real job, Mom. I'm a journalist, remember?

"You were a reporter when you worked for the Post, but they fired you for writing made-up articles years ago. I think it's time you try a new line of work."

Mom, it wasn't made-up, okay?

Isn't that what the news about you said?

I... I just exaggerated some details, that's all. But I'll make them regret they ever fired me. I'm on the trail of the biggest news story of this century. And my name will be back in lights once I break it to the world!

What news story is that?

Haven't you been watching TV, Mom? It's all on every single channel right now.

That UFO thing over Los Angeles?

Yes! Something happened up in Wisconsin too, near Lake Superior. Three big game hunters disappeared last weekend, and guess what?

What?

The people in the area also saw those same lights, like the ones over LA.

How come I didn't hear any of that on the news?

Because there wasn't any camera footage, that's why. But this one is even bigger, because the aliens actually took people.

Come on, Eli.

Mom, I'm not joking, this is serious.

There was another pause, followed by a deep sigh. Eli, your wife called me a few days ago. She's been asking for you.

Ex-wife, Mom, he corrected her. What did Sally want this time?

She said you missed the last two alimony payments that you were supposed to send to her.

It was his turn to exhale. Fine. If she calls again, tell her I'll be making it up real soon.

Eli.

Yes, Mom?

I know what's best for you, and I'll be blunt. You need to forget about being a reporter, and you have got to become a responsible father. Your son will be ten years old soon, and you have to be there for him. That means you have to support your family, even though you're separated. You owe it to him.

Elsner gritted his teeth. I know, Mom. I'm aware that you think I'm just bumming around, but I believe in this scoop. This is my ticket to redemption. I'm so close I can feel it—I just need to find out a few more things and confirm the story. All I'm asking for is one last loan. I promise this time it's gonna be worth it.

You'll always be my son through thick and thin, and I'll never turn you away. All I can give you is five hundred dollars, she said. It's the last of my savings so use it wisely, okay?

I will, Mom. I'll text you the bank details so you can wire it to me tomorrow.

Okay, dear. But make me a promise.

What's that?

"If