David Golemon - Event

"It took years to piece this together by the way," the senator added. "But all witnesses to the Event said it was something they would never forget. The Royal Navy vessel had even entered it in the ship's logbook, much to the British Admiralty's displeasure."

The senator turned to address the president. "The gist of all this, Mr. President, is the fact that we have two incidents that occurred fifty-eight years apart, that are very similar in detail. The first object was attacked by a second, and we are under the assumption it was meant to bring the ship down."

"Yes, I see your point and the connections."

"The line of accounts is almost exact, the same route, two saucers, one damaged. The first saucer in '47 went down in the southwestern United States, and now we have the second Event, one on almost the exact same course as that of the first. And I believe it too may also have gone down in this country, in the same area."

"What is it you want, Senator?"

Garrison Lee walked back to his position at the head of the great conference table, his cane-aided limp now hardly noticeable. "Mr. President, I know the navy wants to keep a firm hold on this one, and under any other circumstance I would say yes, it's their bailiwick. But since this has possibly happened before, I believe it falls under the Event Group's jurisdiction according to our charter. Because of the nature of the incident in '47 we believe this episode was an Event of immeasurable proportions. Because of evidence we gathered many years ago, and I will expand on that with you and members of this group, I believe this incident today, like the one in 1947, was a deliberate action by an alien force to down that craft as an act of war."

There was mumbling around the table and the president blinked, but was quiet.

"What that brings to the table has been filed away since Roswell in 1947.1 have sent a copy of our investigation of the incident fifty-eight years ago to you on a secure link, and you will be receiving it shortly, and I stress, it is highly confidential." Lee took a deep breath and paused for a moment, then let it out. "Niles and I want our people on it, Mr. President, as we don't believe in coincidence." Then he looked from the president to those faces around the table that he knew best, the ones he had groomed for Events this important. "With the same Events so closely related and what we know of the previous one, I believe we are witness to a deliberate act for reasons unknown to bring those craft down in this country. I believe the first act in '47 failed for reasons we learned that night in Roswell, which will be explained, and if this is a successful second occurrence of a similar act, we are in deep trouble."

This time the conference room was silent as the gathered group looked from Lee to the president, Waiting, waiting for some explanation as to the senator's dire warning.

The president stood, making only his midsection visible in the frame, and walked away out of camera view. A moment later he returned. He slowly sat back down on the leather sofa with a bundle of papers in his hands.

"Okay, you damn well better keep me informed, is that clear?" He started looking through the pages that had just been faxed through to him from Nevada.

"Yes, sir," Lee answered. "And the Carl Vinson airman? We need that man here."

"I'll get on that after I've had my burnt hot dogs, is that good enough?" the president said, looking up from the papers.

"Yes, sir, and thank you, we'll be in touch. Enjoy your supper and--"

"Mr. Lee," said the president, cutting the senator off, "this may be just a little too big for just your agency to handle alone. I've got to bring some of the Joint Chiefs and Security Council in on it at the very least. Everyone across the river is already screaming bloody murder on what might very well be a military matter, regardless of what happened in 1947." The president looked into the camera with a frown as the screen faded to blue.

The senator walked over to his chair and seated himself, letting out a heavy sigh. Collins saw Alice pat his arm. He turned and smiled at his colleagues and nodded at Director Compton.

"Okay, people, an Event has been officially declared, the order will arrive shortly giving us the powers of an official presidential investigation. Now, how do we find that saucer?" Niles asked.

The room was momentarily quiet, and then the Group started making plans for what each of their departments could do to add to the search. Jack and Carl excused themselves. As for Garrison Lee, he sat heavily into his chair and rested both hands on his cane. Alice watched him but made no attempt at checking to see if he was alright. She knew he wasn't.

After the meeting broke up, Collins and Everett made, their way to an early dinner.

"Well, that was different. Didn't like the way the old man looked though," Jack said.

Everett thought a moment, then stepped closer to the major. "I think the senator's not well. He shouldn't be this involved. Maybe he wants this to be his last hurrah, so to speak, but that's just my opinion, and I would die for that guy." Carl fell silent a moment. "There's scuttlebutt that says the president is thinking about fully retiring the senator, even taking away his advisory status, even though Doc Compton would kill to keep him on." Carl pursed his lips a moment. "Sure would hate to see that."

"If it does happen, what about all this?" Jack asked, gesturing at the complex around him.

"Dr. Compton has been calling the shots around here since 1993 or so, with Alice easing him into the position." Everett took the major by the elbow and steered him away from the others, walking slowly along the hallway. "As I mentioned earlier, there have been some serious leaks from somewhere. That goddamn Farbeaux and whomever he is working for have shown up at the oddest places and have done us, the Brits, Germans, and Israelis a lot of damage. A few of their intelligence agencies actually accused the U.S. of harboring this guy and whomever he works for. I'm glad you're here to take command and sort this mess out."

Jack knew he had a lot of hard work ahead of him.

The president of the United States sat for a moment after the view of the Event Center went dark. The president stood and walked over to the blinds and pulled them aside. He smiled and waved at his daughters with the red-bordered file and the pages that the Group had just sent over. The girls, along with the first lady, were playfully tossing the burning hot dogs into the air and letting them hit the grill, accompanied by laughter. He smiled and slowly turned away from the window in thought.

He had quickly scanned the pages the Group had sent over and felt numb. If what Lee thought was happening was indeed really happening, the president didn't know if they had the assets to stop it. He slowly walked over to his wall safe and opened it and placed the pages inside, then closed it and locked it with his key. He turned away and went to the side door of his office and opened it and waved the Secret Service agent in.

Roland Davis had been on the presidential detail for the past three years and knew when the president had a lot on his mind. When he wasn't smiling, that meant he was occupied with one problem or another.

"The staff just made a fresh batch of lemonade, Mr. President," Agent Davis said.

"Thank you, Roland," the president said as he turned and made his way for the door and his reunion with burnt hot dogs. "After I choke down dinner, I would like to speak with the chief of staff, and get General Hardesty on the horn, in"--he paused and looked at his watch and then outside to his smiling wife--"say an hour?"