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"Craddick! Craddick, get in here!"
Startled, three men in uniform gave each other a knowing look. Colonel Arthur's voice could be heard by the sentries all the way in the hall outside the two secure doors to the comm center.
Colonel Jacob Arthur was the most dreaded watch officer on the staff of the Army Air Defense Center at Fort Bliss. Most of his staff assumed he was so short-tempered because their performance directly affected his prospects for promotion, but a few cynics maintained that it was also because he was short and ugly. No one liked to be chewed out, but Colonel Arthur’s tirades were in another league. His face turned cherry red, he shouted, and spittle flew onto anyone within five feet.
The door to the adjacent radar room crashed open and a startled-looking young captain hurried in.
"Yessir! Here, sir!"
"You called me in the wee hours, Craddick. This better be good. I hope you haven't got another DEA blip on the loose, goddammit! Report!"
"Uh, yessir. Well, at 0432 this morning we detected an anomaly passing through the atmosphere over the Atlantic Ocean to a landing in the Davis Mountains, just east of here, sir."
"Sounds like a meteorite, Craddick. You pulling me out of a sound sleep for a goddamn meteorite?"
"I don't think so, sir. For one thing, the object's track indicated it had dropped out of earth orbit, sir. And it didn't burn up as it descended. It was going too slowly. For another thing," he paused briefly, "it changed course four times."
"WHAT!?" the colonel gaped. “Changed course? Are you sure? What are you guys smoking back there, Craddick?"
"Nothing, sir. I swear, the object slowed several times and adjusted course, once by six degrees and then by smaller amounts, and it slowed even more before dropping off the radar. It can't be a meteorite, sir. The station in the panhandle picked it up too. If the New Mexico base detected it, we can triangulate where it landed, maybe. That's why I called you."
"Oh, crap! Sparks! Sparks, dammit, where are you?"
A wide-eyed radioman half stood from beyond a nearby console.
"Here, sir."
"Notify Homeland Security! Flash priority! Have them check with NASA and their Euro buddies for screwed up satellites or orbiters or whatever the hell. Contact Special Ops at Fort Bliss and tell them to ready a team of SWAT guys and a couple of choppers. Craddick! Get that landing point triangulated to save your ass and send the posit to Special Ops. Don’t forget to copy NORAD. Also contact law enforcement on the ground in the area to ask the locals if they saw anything.
“Whatever that is, we damn well better jump, and now! Move! Sparks! Craddick! Go!"
