Douglas Bunger's Blaze Of Glory

Chapter 39



 
 
 
    General Dwight Anderson paced the hall again, and took another long drag off his cigarette. As head of Air Force Intelligence, he was responsible for the HARBINGER project, in a round about way. They had waited almost two months after he took the position before they told him about HARBINGER and his association with it. The news drove Anderson to a weekend of very heavy drinking. Once he'd recovered from his three day drunk, he accepted the truth, and turned to chain smoking for relief.
    He hoped General Blackburn arrived very soon for two reasons. First, he only had three cigarettes left. Second, he did not want to tell this news to the President of the United States without the Air Force Chief of Staff at his side. What was it Benjamin Franklin had said at the signing of the Declaration of Independence? "We must all hang together, else we shall all hang separately..."
    Blackburn's heavy steps echoed down the hall and Anderson rushed to meet him. "Paul, I've got a pistol in the car... Let's just kill ourselves right now and save the torture of telling the old man."
    "Don't be a wimp, Dwight. Have you got the briefing papers?"
    "Of course I have them. I've had them in my safe for two years, praying every night that I'd die before the President found out."
    "Look: it's not our fault. This snowball was set in motion forty years ago. The old man will understand."
    Anderson followed his boss down the hall toward the Oval Office. "I hope like hell you're right, but I'm not going to bet my pension on it-- his valet said he was not happy."
    The Generals were met at the door by a Secret Service agent who quickly waved a medal detecting wand over them. Even Four Star Generals learn not to be insulted by security when the President's life is at stake. The agent nodded to a second agent, who buzzed the President to inform him of the Generals' arrival. He opened the door and the two entered.
    "Gentlemen. This had better be good-- they never woke Reagan in the middle of the night." The President shook hands out of courtesy, then sat behind his desk.
    "I'm afraid, Mr. President, it is not good..." stated Blackburn, "It is very bad. General Anderson has a briefing prepared."
    Anderson cleared his throat, and opened the sealed folder. It was going to be hard enough reading the report, the fact that the Commander-In-Chief was sitting across the desk from him wearing pajamas and a robe with the Presidential seal on it, was only going to make matters worse. "Sir, this briefing was prepared on 14 September, 1951, by then Head of Air Force Intelligence General John Hambrick."
    "On 7 July, 1947, A flying disk crashed while on a reconnaissance mission of Roswell Army Airfield. The vehicle was recovered, along with three alien occupants, pronounced deceased by medical experts--"
    "Stop!" ordered the President. "Alien occupants? Now, are you talking about little green men from outer space?"
    Anderson looked at Blackburn who cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. "Actually, sir, they have an off white tint."
    "Gray," offered General Anderson.
    "Yes, I'd say gray," agreed Blackburn.
    The president fell against the back of his chair and Anderson continued to read. "After discussion with members of the government, President Truman determined that a joint CIA and USAF operation should study this and all other crashed flying disks. The operation called for the Air Force to form a special team to recover the disks and eliminate any proof of their existence from the crash site. Furthermore, one of the operation's primary goals should be the capture of a functioning device for study and duplication. The operation was codenamed Operation MAJESTIC."
    "During the course of the next three years, two other disks were recovered. One from Aztec, New Mexico, and another from the Appalachians in Kentucky. The disks have been studied diligently, but have not yet yielded any secrets."
    "Because MAJESTIC hasn't provided us with any useful technology," interrupted Blackburn, "It was dropped from the Presidential briefings after 1964. The files were retired by both the Air Force and CIA that same year. Today the project is virtually nonexistent except for basic administrative duties of maintaining the hangars and warehouses where the equipment and craft are stored."
    Anderson paused, to ensure Blackburn was finished. "As MAJESTIC continued, the Air Force began to feel that the research was not proceeding in an acceptable fashion, due to the CIA's reluctance to allow certain scientists clearance to study the devices for security reasons. It was the general belief among senior Air Force officers that the CIA was rejecting America's top scientists out of concern for the degree of control they could exert on them. This caused a rift to form in relations between the organizations."
    "It was decided that the continued interservice rivalry would eventually cripple the project beyond repair. As the CIA had managed to seize nearly full control of the MAJESTIC, the Air Force relinquished their authority to them. The CIA was satisfied to take over the operation with minimal Air Force involvement since the scientists had already theorized that changes in the most recently recover disk, were meant to correct the problem that was causing the crashes."
    "They were correct in their assumption, but the improvement to the machines had not yet been perfected. On 19 August, 1949, a disk crashed in Death Valley, California. This crash, however, had two survivors which were recovered by Air Force Search And Rescue teams. The aliens, code named ROGER and WILCO, were transported to a remote, inactive training field near Muroc Dry Lake."
    "That's what we call Edwards Air Force Base, now, Sir," explained Blackburn.
    "The officer in the field notified his Air Force superiors of his find, but notified the CIA that the search had not been successful. Before senior Air Force staff could react to the news, an alien disk arrived at the field. The alien commander asked the officer to turn over the crewman he had rescued. As the officer has no idea as to the alien's intentions, or the capability of their weapons, he released the survivors."
    "Before doing so, the officer insisted that the commander of the recovery disk give his word that he would arrange for a delegation to visit this post in twelve days to discuss future contact between their species. The alien assured him that he would do everything in his power to arrange the meeting if the officer would release the survivors. The officer later commented in his report: 'I was not sure whether the spacemen were ambassadors of goodwill or harbingers of doom, but I intented to deal with them as I would anyone else... Fairly and honestly.' Apparently, the aliens were impressed with the officer's character and willingness to accept the word of a stranger, and returned twelve days later, as promised."
    "A party of five aliens met with members of the Air Force staff on 28 August, 1949. After several hours of negotiations, an agreement was arrived upon that would allow the transfer of culture and science through an on-going exchange program. The Earthside end of this project was designated Operation HARBINGER."
    "Stop. On-going exchange program?" asked the President. "That makes it sound like Swedish high school students studying in American."
    "Well, sir," started Blackburn uneasily, "That's a pretty good description of how the program works."
    The President stared at Blackburn. "Are you telling me that we've been sending people into outer space since 1949?"
    "Fifty-three," stated Anderson. "the first exchange took place in 1953. We send two humans, they send two aliens."
    The President ran his fingers through his hair. "Why in the hell didn't I know about this."
    "I believe that question will be answered if General Anderson will continue the briefing," stated Blackburn.
    "Where was I? Ah, here we go: The project called for the transfer of two aliens in exchange for two humans for a period of eight hundred forty-two days. The exchangees would study culture, history, and science, but could only learn that information which was public knowledge on the host planet."
    "After the meeting with the aliens, it was determined that President Truman might not be sympathetic to the Air Force's concerns over the CIA. For this reason, in order to avoid the loss of what might be mankind's only chance to journey beyond our planet, it was decided by the below signed officers not to brief the President on the existence of Operation HARBINGER."
    General Anderson removed the pages from the folder and slid them across the desk for the President to examine. The President took the papers and studied them for a moment. He tapped the pages on the desk to straighten them. He lay them on the desk top before him. In a voice so calm, it could only be the product of uncontrolled rage, the President spoke: "Am I to understand that a group of military officers banded together, and signed a paper agreeing not to tell their Commander-In-Chief about a secret meeting with aliens? Am I further to accept that for over forty years, dozens of military officers, including the two of you, have conspired to keep this information from this office."
    "Yes sir, I... that's almost correct," answered Blackburn.
    "Correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't that qualify as mutiny... or treason?" Neither man spoke. Anderson wanted a cigarette. He knew the old man wouldn't take it well. He should have shot himself when he had the chance. "I take it they didn't tell Ike, either."
    "That is correct, sir," answered Blackburn.
    "And..." asked the President.
    "I don't want to bore you with details, sir."
    "Bore me? Bore me!" asked the President sarcastically. "You've already ruined my night's sleep by reading me a two page report of conspiracy and deceit. You might as well tell me the whole story. Who knows, it might have a happy ending? I wouldn't bet your careers on it..."
    "Well, sir," started Blackburn, "The thought of having to tell a former Five Star General about the arrangement concerned the officers. They chose to wait until the next President took office and hope it wasn't MacArthur. When Kennedy was elected, the Air Force briefed him about HARBINGER."
    "Kennedy didn't react well to the existence of the aliens. He publicly asked NASA to put a man on the moon by the end of the decade, and privately ordered the Air Force to have a permanent military post on the moon by '75. His concept was that we could not defend the our planet if the aliens controlled our moon. Defense analysts tried to convince him that an outpost on the Moon would be too expensive, and impossible to defend, but he insisted they pursue the project anyway. After his death, it was abandoned.
    "With the prospect of war on the horizon, the sudden change of office, and Kennedy's unexpected reaction, it was decided to drop HARBINGER and MAJESTIC from future briefings. No President since 1963 has had knowledge of the project," concluded Blackburn.
    The President stood and walked to the fireplace. "That's a very interesting story General, but it didn't have a happy ending." He turned to face the men. "A happy ending would be if the two of you told me that you were telling me this to clear your consciences."
    "No sir."
    "What's gone wrong? Have the aliens decided to invade?"
    "No, sir," offered Blackburn, "Nothing that severe. The aliens view our civilization as a primitive society with no redeeming technologies or resources other than the study of us. If they invaded, they would destroy our society, and as such, our usefulness."
    "That's a cheery thought," stated the President flatly. "What's gone wrong, Anderson?"
    Anderson swallowed the lump that had hung in his throat for the last fourty-five minutes. "Sir... An unknown paramilitary force entered the HARBINGER compounded approximately one hour ago, and abducted one of the HARBINGER participants."
    "Someone stole one of our aliens?"
    "Yes sir."
    The President paced the floor silently. "Have you considered the Russians?" he asked without stopping.
    "The Russians have their own aliens," mumbled Blackburn.
    "The Chinese?"
    "We believe the Chinese have a similar project also, sir," stated Anderson.
    "Of course!" roared the President, "Everyone's got aliens but me!" He stopped at the corner of his desk, pressed his fists against the top, and stared angrily at the men. "Who in the hell was it?"
    "A security officer at Nellis believes it was an investigative reporter from Los Angeles," whispered Anderson.
    The President did not move. "If you tell me it was Geraldo Rivera, I'll have the Marine Guards take you outside and execute you in the Rose Garden."
    "It wasn't Geraldo. We've already checked: he's in New York," added Anderson, but the President didn't seem to hear him; he'd begun his pacing again.
    "What have you done to me?" he whispered to himself. "What did I do to deserve this?" He paced several more times, then stopped abruptly to face the Generals. "You sons-of-bitches knew this was going on! Don't you see what you've done!"
    "If this man is a reporter, he's done this for one reason: to expose a government cover-up. He's going to march that alien in front of a television camera and tell the world about how the Air Force, and the Presidency, has lied to them for nearly half this century. Then I'll have to stand there and say I didn't know anything about it!"
    "Do you think they'll believe me? Shit no! I am not going through another so called cover-up that I had nothing to do with!" screamed the President. "Now, what are you doing to contain the situation?"
    "We've alerted the FBI, every Nevada law enforcement agency, and have a crack team out of Nellis Air Force Base on the case," said Blackburn proudly.
    "And what about the CIA, gentlemen? Have you notified them?" Blackburn and Anderson looked at each other guiltily. "No, I didn't think you had. Can we expect any help from the aliens?"
    "Unfortunately, Mr. President, the radio we used to communicate with the aliens was destroyed in the assault. Standard radio transmissions would take five years to reach their star, and I doubt that they monitor our frequencies," explained Anderson.
    "We don't have a spare?" asked the President.
    "No sir," answered Blackburn, "They made us buy that one."
    "You should have bought a spare! How much did it cost?"
    Blackburn squirmed nervously. "Thirty-one tons of dried, chopped, parsley."
    "Parsley!" yelled the President, trying hard to contain his blood pressure. "What in the hell did they want parsley for?"
    "I don't know, sir."
    "And you only bought one radio?"
    "Sir: Do you have any idea how much thirty-one tons of parsley is? They only gave us twelve days to pay them. It cost the government millions."
    The President shook his head and stomped across the room. "This is insane. Listen to me-- both of you. You put a lid on this thing. Stop it, right now! I want the alien back in our custody and I want these people silenced at all costs. Do you understand me?"
    "Silenced, Mr. President?" asked Anderson uneasily.
    "Silenced, General. I don't care how you do it: word of this must not leak to the public. Not now... Not this way. Now get out of here!" The generals rose and saluted. The President ignored the gesture and fell into his chair. As Anderson opened the door, the President called to the men. "I expect a list of all living officers, active or retired, with knowledge of HARBINGER in my office in the morning."
    "Yes sir, Mr. President," stated General Blackburn, as he exited. He fully understood why the President wanted the list. If they successfully recovered the alien, they would be given the opportunity to retire, immediately. If they failed, the list would become the roll call at the court martial hearings.
    Once out of the office, Anderson whispered to Blackburn, "I told you he wouldn't take it well." Blackburn grunted, then turned to the left to call Keeney at Nellis. Anderson walked to his car, drove home, and shot himself.
    No suicide note was found.


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