X War: Incursion: X WAR, #2

By John Triptych

Humanity has one last chance of turning back the rising chaos: Task Force Zero- a multinational combat unit composed of the best special operations soldiers the world has to offer. Perry knows this is their one last roll of the dice, for the alternative is defeat and enslavement.

But the war is being fought on several fronts- there are those aiding the unknown enemy, and others who may hold the key to mankind's destiny...

On the run, Piper discovers a shocking secret about her family.

Thorne's insidious machinations begin to bear fruit as he manipulates both allies and enemies to stay alive and gain power.

 Elsner is determined to keep his family together, even as everything begins to crumble around him.

With the stakes higher than ever, could all this be a culmination to humanity's salvation, or will it be the beginning of the end?

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Triptych
• Release date: Jul 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393801153

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

1 Nevada

AFTER BEING WOKEN UP by an incessant knocking on the side of the rented campervan, John Brickman sat up, rubbed the accumulated dirt from his eyes and trudged his way towards the exit. Upon pushing the latch back and swinging the side door open, he was greeted by a near endless array of multicolored neon lights moving slowly across the desert evening towards the center of the makeshift city.

His friend Danny Pauletti, dressed in a pink tutu and leotards beneath his leather frock coat, sat on a modified mountain bike while leaning by the side of the camper. Hurry up, man, they're gonna start the fire!

Oh, right, Brickman said as he slid back into the interior of the recreational vehicle in order to grab a jacket. Nights in the desert were cold, in direct contrast to the scorching heat of the day.

Slipping on his checkered coat and top hat while still wearing his dusty boots and G-string, Brickman grabbed his own bicycle from the side of the vehicle and activated its electroluminescent wiring before placing his sagging butt on the modified, extra large saddle. Let's go!

Flaming Guy was an annual event, with the end of the weeklong festival culminating in the burning down of a gigantic effigy in the middle of the temporary city that had been built in the desert, two hundred kilometers north of Reno. Originally started as a bonfire ritual by a small group of second-generation hippies, the event slowly grew in size and participation over the years, with this week's current attendance record at more than seventy thousand participants.

Brickman rode alongside Danny, as the two men joined up with hundreds of other bike riders in a strange, mesmerizing display of neon glowworms as their caravan of lights slowly made their way towards the fifty foot tall effigy of a human figure at the city center.

The Flaming Guy organizers had been expecting a lower turnout this year because of the UFO attacks in California and Oregon, but were somewhat taken by surprise when the attendance actually increased. It seemed that people wanted to forget about a possible alien invasion for at least a week, and instead just celebrate peace, life, and community.

Brickman waved at a couple of uniformed cops standing beside their police SUV as the bicycle caravan passed them by. He had been smoking weed and taking ecstasy pills all week, but the authorities only arrested blatant violators and tended to overlook the low-key ones.

Danny pointed towards an old car modified to look like a flying saucer as it flashed its own set of lights while being driven around in a wide circle several meters away from them. Hey look, the aliens made it here after all!

Brickman chuckled. The event had started off without a hitch, despite swirling rumors that the extraterrestrial menace had infiltrated the newly erected city, but since the ritual burning would end the festivities by mid-evening, everyone felt safe.

If the aliens are observing Flaming Guy, then maybe they approve of it, he thought. This festival is harmless, so there’s no reason for them to disrupt it.

He had attended the last five Flaming Guy events, and Brickman was already looking forward to next year's festivities. He firmly believed in its philosophy of including anyone, and the concept of not having to use money or barter during his whole time spent in this weeklong utopia out in the desert.

He remembered his first time as a flamer, the slang term for attendees of the event. Five years ago when he bought a ticket and rode in a friend's RV to get to the site; it was like losing his virginity all over again. Encountering the dust, the heat, how everyone smelled after not taking a shower for a week, begging for food, and losing a few pounds off their overweight bodies. The ones who didn't have campers had to use the portable toilets, and those plastic outhouses reeked after the first few hours. But in the end he loved it, because of the otherworldly atmosphere—he was an outcast amongst a sea of those who accepted him, and that was good enough.

The critics of the festival were right about the hypocrisy of the whole thing. People who claimed to leave no trace burned a huge effigy that threw a massive carbon footprint into the atmosphere and left tons of garbage in nearby towns. It was sham environmentalism, a false spiritual pursuit which ultimately led to nothing. Brickman didn't care. Without anyone but a few friends, he felt the sense of temporary belonging that overcame all of its contradictions and flaws. 

I wish we could do this in every city, not just out in the middle of nowhere, he thought as he continued to pedal his bike. Maybe the reason the aliens are attacking us is because of our love for materialism and corruption.

Brickman had felt lost ever since his divorce more than eight years ago, and attending the Flaming Guy event always gave him peace of mind, away from all the stresses the world could give. He’d even tried to bring his mother to the festival last year but she adamantly refused, calling the whole thing a satanic cult.

After traversing close to thirty meters, the cavalcade of glowing bicycles finally stopped along the curving perimeter of the city's center. The main meeting place resembled a gigantic crescent almost two kilometers in diameter.

Brickman continued to sit on his bike and began cheering with the others as the massive spotlights were activated, casting almost solid beams of lights towards the gigantic effigy in the near distance.

Most of the event participants had now massed along the perimeter of the crescent, watching and waiting for the icon to burn. Small crews of firefighters and volunteers manning the inner lines ushered a few of the overeager onlookers back, telling them that it was a possible fire hazard if they strayed too close.

Brickman watched the small group of organizers as they began fiddling with a remote control unit for the aerial drone hovering just above the giant effigy. Looks like they're going to kamikaze it to start the fire this year, he thought. This is so cool!

A tanned woman with dirt encrusted dreadlocks pointed towards the west. Hey, check that out.

Danny reacted first and frowned as he looked to where she was pointing. Aw, crap. Dust storm.

Brickman frowned. He was hoping there would be good visibility for the final evening's ritual burning, but the incoming clouds of fine desert sand would probably ruin everything. What a time for our luck to run out.

Everyone began putting on their goggles and slipping dust masks over their faces as the fine particles of sand began to kick up all around them. The rapidly deteriorating visibility didn't discourage the organizers as they managed to finally get the controls right and flew the suicide drone directly at the effigy.

A loud series of cheers came from the massive crowds as the drone rammed the center of the giant wooden man and exploded, igniting the rows of fireworks embedded along its structure. In less than ten seconds the entire effigy was burning brightly, the flames so intense that not even the dust storm could wholly obscure it.

Brickman grinned underneath the dirty handkerchief draped over his nose and mouth. Take that, world!

While almost everyone continued to stare at the burning effigy, a few people noticed the sudden appearance of additional lights up in the sky. Most remained distracted as everything around them began to brighten as if dawn had come eight hours early.

The law enforcement personnel reacted first. A loudspeaker was quickly heard over the cheers and whooping of the audience watching the burning effigy. Attention, please clear the promenade and return to your vehicles. This is an emergency.

A few voices began cursing at the authorities in protest, only to be interrupted by screams coming from all around.

Brickman had been so completely focused on watching the ritual burning in front of him that he failed to notice what was happening until someone alongside him began screaming.

Turning to his right, he caught a glimpse of something, but he couldn't make it out clearly because of the limited visibility caused by the dust storm. Only after his brain clicked into high gear did he realize that Danny was on the ground, seemingly struggling with someone on the dry silt bed. 

Brickman squinted as he leaned sideways. Danny, what the hell are you—

His confused query was interrupted when the wind slightly pushed away the obscuring curtain of dust and his eyes could finally paint a clear picture of what he was looking at. Brickman's mouth hung open, barely able to comprehend what he was seeing.

Something vaguely resembling a naked hairless man was on top of his friend. Danny was on the ground, his mouth open in a silent scream, his fallen bike lying beside him. The gray skinned creature had its mouth at the side of his friend's neck, using its fangs to tear out the hapless man's throat. Danny's blood was spilling all over the sandy ground.

Brickman couldn't cry out as his vocal cords failed him. He could hear more screaming and even the sounds of gunfire as panic erupted all around, but he stayed rooted, unable to act.

The creature looked up at him. Its glowing yellow eyes, fanged mouth, and skull-like visage were a testament to its otherworldliness. Whatever it was couldn't have been human.

By the time Brickman did scream it was too late. The creature leapt up at him, throwing his big bulk off the bicycle and forcing him to the ground. Brickman's final thoughts were of the upside down burning effigy as his attacker began to tear out his throat, spilling his blood along with that of thousands of others onto the billowing sand.

2 Utah

WITH THEIR BRIEF STOPOVER at Dugway completed, the three unmarked white colored Chevrolet Tahoe SUVs continued westwards. Once past the newly erected checkpoints along Stark Road, the small convoy then entered a recently constructed highway leading towards the hidden base inside Granite Peak.

Although the route seemed mostly deserted, a number of hidden sensors and cameras had the vehicles pinpointed and tracked, all the way until they stopped at what seemed to be the road's dead end as the lead vehicle faced a wall of solid stone along the base of the mountain range.

Less than five seconds later, the part of the rock face that the vehicles had stopped in front of suddenly shifted, revealing a large hidden tunnel in front of them, big enough to fit two transport trucks side by side along its wide lanes.

The three SUVs entered the tunnel, and the rock face began closing up behind them. Within moments, the outside terrain had once again become quiet, as if the very mountain had swallowed them up.

Thomas Perry got out of the passenger side door of the second Tahoe SUV the moment it stopped beside the interior entrance of the hidden base. As the newly appointed deputy secretary of defense, he had to see for himself what the results were for the six months of emergency construction to build this new secret facility.

Jane Cornell slid her way out of the backseat and stood beside him. How does it feel to be the newly minted director of Task Force Zero, Tom?

Perry shook his head wearily. You'll have to ask me when this is all over. Right now, I wish I had more time to rest and be with my wife.

I hear you. Warren is pissed off at me for not being home a lot, even though he knows how important this all is.

Two US Army officers in full battle uniforms came out of the entryway to greet them. The older one quickly extended his hand. Mr. Perry, I'm Major Jason Dutton. I'll take you over to the general.

After shaking hands and introducing Jane, all four of them strode through the main entrance before the major led them down into a side corridor.

Despite his fatigue, Perry was impressed by how quickly the base had been constructed. How close are we to being fully operational, Major?

For basic operations I'd estimate we're around ninety percent done, sir, Dutton said. The tunneling machines we've acquired are still working full time though, so it means we're still expanding. I understand we're also looking to add additional sections on the second level in order to accommodate the engineering departments, if I'm not mistaken.

Very perceptive, Major, Perry said as he strode alongside Dutton. Yes, my staff envisions this base to be expanded to twice its size over the next few months. Do you think it can be done?

Absolutely, sir. I've been with the Army Corps of Engineers for close to fifteen years, but this is the first time I've gotten unlimited resources to construct a base, so whatever you need will get done.

Perry made a brief glance back to Jane, who was trailing right behind him. Is that enough to please your guy?

As long as there's a full service bar where he can get drunk after a long day's work then I think he won't be complaining, Jane said.

After entering another set of corridors, all four of them came at last to the base's control room, a cavernous hall lined with communications gear and flat-screen monitors all along its walls. Since the base had not yet become operational, only a skeleton crew of four radio operators was present, busily testing the equipment.

General Edgar Reyna and his aide stood near the western side of the room, poring over a large map that had been laid down on a work table. The major led Perry and Jane over to them, while his lieutenant stayed by the door.

Perry shook the general's hand. How's everything going, General?

Reyna nodded as he shook Jane's hand. The operatives will be flown in over the coming days, but they don't have much of a training manual when it comes to figuring out how to fight these aliens.

It's being worked on, Jane said. The SEALs took a beating in Portland, but they might have figured out a few things. The aliens wear some sort of body armor, but it does have gaps. If they shoot at the enemy's weak points, then these monsters can be killed.

Trial and error means more casualties.

We know, Perry said softly. There's just no other way around it.

The general crossed his arms. What bothers me most are all the foreign personnel we'll be bringing into this base. These people will most certainly report back to their respective countries on what is going on here. This location will not remain classified for long.

Task Force Zero was conceived to be multinational unit from the very beginning, Jane said. The old adage of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer might work to our advantage.

How so?

This so-called fifth column that's helping the aliens out, she said. Our own intel group will be keeping a close watch on everybody. If they spot anything then it could give us the lead to find and root out the alien collaborators.

Reyna shook his head slowly. And who watches over our intel teams? I heard that they're multinational too.

We're working on contingencies, Perry said. In the meantime, treat everyone with some suspicion.

That's a hell of a way to foster morale and teamwork.

Perry let out a deep breath. He didn't like to have to say this next bit either. One other thing, General—we'll be placing a multinational senior officer in charge once the base is operational.

Reyna was taken aback. What? You can't be serious!

I'm afraid so. The Russians were especially adamant that their personnel would not be under an American officer's command. It was one of the conditions we had to abide by in order to get them onboard.

Who did you place in charge of this unit then?

His name is Brigadier General Heino Jokinen, Janet said. He's Finnish, and he formerly commanded their Utti Jaeger Regiment. His staff will be flying in tonight to relieve you.

Reyna couldn't believe it. Relieve me? I'm supposed to be in charge of this task force, not some goddamn Finn!

I'm sorry, General, Perry said.

Reyna hissed before turning around and stomped out of the room. His aide just stood there, confused for a few seconds, before he too followed the general and left.

Perry rubbed the back of his neck before turning towards Jane. That could have gone better.

At least most of the work in setting this base up is done, Jane said. If we had told him about this earlier then morale wouldn't have been very good at the beginning.

Dutton stood a few meters away and had witnessed the entire conversation. Now he raised his hand. Am I to be relieved as well?

No, Major, Perry said. Your team of engineers is pretty damn good. We're still in the process of expanding this base, so we'll need you.

Very good, sir.

As the major moved away to get back to his work, Perry got a text on his phone. He read it and frowned.

What is it? Jane asked.

The president is asking why we didn't give out any advance warning for the Nevada attack last night, Perry said. It was the first alien incident that occurred on home soil in more than six months, and he's taking flak in a lot of the news media outlets again. Even Congress is planning to hold hearings on it since he went on TV assuring everyone that we had an early warning system in place.

I briefed Reese Fulton about it already, Jane said, referring to the president's national security advisor. For some reason we didn't schedule any satellite or Constant Phoenix sweeps over Nevada for the past forty-eight hours, so there was no way we could have detected the radiation field before it happened.

Why the hell not?

She shook her head. I don't know. Most of the intel staff thought it was a glitch.

Are you kidding me? A glitch in both the satellite programming and in the mission orders for Constant Phoenix?

Jacob Baum actually thinks it's something else.

What then?

He thinks the fifth column sabotaged our early warning system, Jane whispered. He's looking into it.

Perry closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Jesus Christ. Are you saying Task Force Zero has already been infiltrated by this... fifth column?

We honestly don't know at this point. We're reviewing our security procedures and checking who has access to change the satellite programming and mission orders to Constant Phoenix.

Okay, keep me in the loop and fully updated on this, he said. If Task Force Zero has already been compromised, then we've lost this war before it's even started.

3 Manhattan

TAPPING HER PEN ON the workstation's countertop, Jenna Bates adjusted her glasses while staring into the monitor screen. The alien attack out in the Nevada desert had generated a torrent of brand new speculative news content, and she was busy trying to find some evidence to corroborate her own findings.

The other reporters around her were busy typing away at their keyboards, and the normally bustling main room of the New York Herald was quieter than usual. After a slight rebound over the past few months, the stock markets had once again collapsed as investor confidence in the entire country had yet to bottom out.

Colton Napier got up from his chair and walked over until he stood beside her desk. Hey, what's up with our star UFO reporter? Got any tidbits for me?

Jenna gave a half smile as she continued to scan through various conspiracy sites on her computer. Here's one for you, how about doing an investigative piece on the disappearance of Larry Bielenda?

Who's he?

You want to know why you're pretty much assigned to do the foo-foo stories, Colton? Because you're totally clueless as to who the big movers are.

Okay, seriously. Fill me in.

Bielenda is Mr. Conspiracy. Anything to do with government secrets, you go to his website for info. The guy gets millions of hits, which means a lot of people read his stuff—until his sites just suddenly stopped updating a few months ago, and no one's heard from him since.

But aren't all these conspiracy theory people just nuts?

I'm not so sure. I know a guy who was doing undercover work, trying to expose the Etherians, and I think some of his findings made it to Bielenda's sites, and they seem to paint a compelling story about how the Etherians are behind all of this.

Yeah, but Jenna, the moment your article on that cult came out, we got sued for libel. Didn't our editor tell us to hold off on publishing new articles about them?

You weren't listening very well. Marty said we can still write stories on them as long as we’ve got solid sources to back it all up.

Okay, so you want me to help you out?

Yes. You can help me out by figuring out what happened to Bielenda.

How do I do that?

Ask Marty to see if he can include you in the pool of reporters who are going to Portland for the follow up story. Once you're there, see if you can talk to any of Bielenda's friends since he was from that city. Try to find out where he is.

But, but he assigned me to head over to Nevada and do a story on the massacre out in the desert.

Look, I'm telling you this is the bigger story. If you go to Nevada, you'll end up writing just another sob article on how those hipsters got slaughtered and all that. Everybody else is already doing that exact same story.

Colton pursed his lips. You sure this is the bigger scoop?

Yes, because no one else is doing it. The way to get noticed in this business is to drop an investigative bombshell on everybody.

Uh, okay, I'll talk to Marty about it then.

Good, now stop bothering me, Jenna said as Colton turned and moved away. Damn, would I love to expose that UFO cult, but I need more sources!

The lights on her landline phone started blinking so she quickly answered it. Jenna Bates here.

The voice at the other end of the line sounded hollow and distant. Jenna, it's me.

She quickly recognized who it was. Elsner? How are you?

I'm using a burner phone so I can't talk to you that long. Did you get the emails?

Yes, I did. Thank you. All that stuff you gave me was an eye opener.

That was a few months ago. Why haven't you blown the lid off the Etherians yet?

Jenna leaned forward, deeper into the back of the low divider and lowered her voice. After I did my first article they sued us, Elsner. We had to settle. My editor told me I can't use anonymous sources anymore, which means I have to confirm each bit of information you gave me.

What? That's gonna take a long time.

Yes, it is. My hands are tied, but if you can point me to a second source to confirm all this stuff, then they can't sue us for libel anymore.

What about the families of those cult members that got killed in Mordrake's house on Vashon Island? Have you tried talking to them?

You only gave me a couple of names I could follow up on, Jenna said. And the families refused to talk about it. They won't even admit that their loved ones are missing.

Goddamn it. What about the Geneticus Lab building in Portland?

No reporters could enter the scene in that part of the city since it was declared a federal disaster zone. My own contacts in the government told me that CDC and USAMRIID went through everything.

Damn it!

I can tell you that I personally witnessed several semi-trailer trucks belonging to Mordrake Holdings going in and out of that area when I was there. If what you said is true then they’ve surely hauled all the evidence away by now.

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. Then it's back to square one for me.

Are you okay? Where are you?

All I can tell you is that I'm safe, for now. I'm with my family. I managed to get them out in time.

Elsner, why don't you go out in public? I can do a story on you.

No, no! My family's life is already in danger.

Why not go to the cops or the Feds and ask for protection? I'm sure they could help.

No, don't you see? The Cabal controls everything. I'll be killed if I let myself get caught. The only way for me to fight back is by exposing them to the general public.

I believe you, Elsner. I know you didn't murder your own cousin and his family, but you can't just keep running away forever. If you tell your story then maybe there's a chance the truth will come out.

There was a brief sob on the other end. I-I can't. My family will be killed along with me. No, I can't do that to my wife and son.

Elsner, there must be something—

The line went dead.

4 British Columbia

LOCATED AT THE SOUTHERN tip of Salt Spring Island, Methuen Farm overlooked the scenic views of Fulford Harbour. The community was started by American draft dodgers of the Vietnam War and had since become a fully functional commune where drifters and tourists would spend a year or two doing farm work to keep the place running and make a bit of money before moving on.

Blinking his eyes open, Michael Ripley sat up on the bunk bed before getting to his feet. It was mid-morning, and the chronic pain he had been feeling along the sides of his skull for the past several months had now largely subsided.

Stripping off his thermal underwear, he slipped into his working clothes: worn jeans, plaid cotton shirt, and dirt encrusted heavy boots. For the first time in as many months he now felt alright, and he needed to get back into shape.

Walking out of the cabin, he was greeted by a tanned woman carrying a basket full of newly harvested vegetables in her thin yet muscular arms. Hey, you feeling better?

Ripley smiled while rubbing his beard. Yeah, a whole lot better. My headaches are pretty much gone now.

That's great. I'll see you later.

See you.

Making his way past the stables, Ripley kept going until he got to the chicken coops. Several women were there, holding wooden baskets while scooping out the eggs from the various lined nests along the wooden shelves.

He caught the eye of one of them, and the middle-aged woman smiled while giving him a friendly wave. "If you're