Niger. The Tenere Desert. October 17th. 20.00 hours.

        The alien convoy reduced speed as it crossed into the southwestern corner of Tenere desert. Flying parallel to the city of Agadez, the vessels rectified their course turning slightly to the right. A mile from the Akouta mining compound they braked into subsonic flight, swooped low over the first huts and firing their ionic thrusters landed spectacularly. The escorting fighter, however, remained in the air circling around like an single rider of the Apocalypse creating havoc. This was a ship Earth forces had never seen. Double ion cannons anchored to the sides of the nose section, coupled with a high-powered tachion beam delivered devastating firepower. Antimatter photon torpedo bays hung low on each side. A Phase Seven Semi-Artificial System controlled the attack and defensive capabilities of the fighter.
        The mining operation was the fifth largest in the world, extracting over 2000 tons of uranium ore or six percent of total world production. Five hundred and fifty people worked in two eight hour shifts extracting the ore from the ground. The first shift was very fortunate in not being at work. The second shift, less so.
        As the dust settled, Chief Engineer Edwards, a squat Australian hired by COGEMA and in charge on the operation burst from his aluminum office. Around him cars, trucks and equipment exploded into the air as waves of superheated energy pulsed from the fighter. Groups of Sectoids disembarked from the transports, firing their weapons. Edwards saw dozens of people die. A truck coming from the central shaft fireballed as a plasma shot ruptured its engine and fuel tank. Screams and smoke filled the air mingled with the low whine of the alien vessel’s drives.
        He stood transfixed. The fighter reeled in the late afternoon sky and passed over the mine shaft. A blue light dropped from its belly into the shaft. The ground shook and a violent explosion threw him to the ground. Fire belched from the shaft hundreds of feet in the air, scorching his skin. Dear God, he though. All the people in there. The last thing he saw was a small gray alien step from behind an overturned van and point a large gun at him.

        X-COM Base - Colorado. October 18th. 0700 hours.

        The security guard found Keller in the gym. It was still early in the morning and most of the base’s staff was rising or having breakfast. Not so for the X-COM teams.
        Keller had spent the previous day accommodating and introducing the new recruits around. Two recruits had come in from SEAL Team Three and a further five from Team Six, elevating the X-COM numbers to sixteen. Another squad.
        All of them were present in the training room, Gator acting as gym master.
        "You wimps!" he bellowed, his enormous chest expanding. "This heah how you train, girls?" His voice rode the airwaves like a bass missile, pushing everyone for a few more pushups. "What’s gonna happen’ when Mr. Bug come to wup youh ass, soldier?" he yelled at a sweating recruit. The squaddie grunted and lowered himself to the floor again.
        "Awright, everybody up! Hit the ropes and lick the ceiling." The men shot to their feet, ran towards the ropes anchored to the ceiling and started the thirty foot climb.
        The security man, waving frantically, finally managed to get Keller’s attention who jogged over.
        "Colonel Hammet would like to see you in an hour in the control room, sir." The young man eyed the commandos climbing the ropes in full combat gear. Keller nodded and tried to catch his breath.
        "Well, lookie here," boomed Gator’s voice. "Looks like ouh Cap’n Ste-ven," two words, "Keller is taking a rest, while the rest of the team works! How quaint." Keller turned and ran back towards the ropes. He gave Gator a deadpan stare and picked up an equipment backpack. He slung it on his back and grabbed the nearest rope.

        An hour later Keller stepped from the elevator into Cheyenne Control Room. The room, unlike many other areas of the base was in full swing. Hammet stood in the center of the room studying the large screens. Keller walked over.
        "Colonel," he said.
        "Captain," he acknowledged. And then cutting straight to the chase: "Last night, local time, a mining operation in central Africa was hit. That’s 1100 hours of yesterday for us" He pushed a bunch of photographs towards Keller. "X-COM received an emergency signal from the Nigerian government about five hours after the attack and the Air Force dispatched an SR-71 for a look see. The pilot brought back those," he said indicating the photos. Keller winced. The destruction of the mining complex was total.
        "A mining operation?" he asked.
        "Uranium ore," responded Hammet. "Yellowjack. One of the largest world mines. Over five hundred people worked there. The Italian government dispatched their X-COM Team to the area but arrived as the aliens departed."
        "Jesus," breathed Keller.
        "Maybe not so bad," said Hammet. "Turns out the Italian team were able to estimate the UFO’s course. You familiar with this?" he asked handing a large vanilla folder stamped: TOP SECRET - ALIEN ACTIVITY REPORT
        Keller glanced at the interior briefly and nodded. He’d seen the initial reports before the Colonel had taken over the base.
        "Over the past two weeks we’ve been monitoring heavy alien movement in the central African region. Pentagon analysts think that the incident with CTF60 could be related as the USO was following a direct course to the area. Which ties in nicely with the estimate the Italians made." Hammet paused and thrust the stub of a cigar between his teeth.
        "As it turns out Pentagon is real interested in this area here," he said indicating a graph. He pointed at the large center screen above them. "Which makes us even more interested. Niger, south of Algeria and Libya. Nigerian officials are turning out to be pretty cooperative. We already have a liaison team in Niamey, the capital and New York X-COM Team was flown in two days ago." He handed Keller a photograph.
        "This area right here is what we’re looking at." Keller studied the satellite color print. Rough sand and rock, more alike to the hard Nevada desert than the rolling sand dunes of a Lawrence of Arabia movie. A deep canyon etched a weaving line from east to west.
        "The photograph reveals nothing. But," he said glancing at the digital clock above the screens, "in one minute a Keyhole satellite will start sending us real time feed."
        Keller took a deep breath. "What exactly are we expecting, Colonel?"
        "Intel boys think we may have stumbled on an alien base."
        A loudspeaker came to life announcing the satellite pass in ten seconds. All three screens went dark, white letters appearing on the top right corners: KH-15. A few seconds later, the image flickered and turned itself on.
        "Left is infrared," said Hammet. "Center is visual and right is radar data." The image of the African desert invaded the room.
        "The bird is still twenty seconds from the target area," informed Hammet. The screens scrolled as the satellite advanced following its orbit.
        "KH-15 on target ... mark," said the loudspeaker. Keller held his breath and glued his eyes to the screen. His eyes darted from the infrared data to the video feed, looking for any sign. In any case, computers were on-line analyzing the feed much more efficiently than he could and dozens of techs would be pouring over the information during the day. The loudspeaker came on again.
        "Possible contact in the infrared channel," it intoned. Keller swung his eyes to the left screen. There! A bright red dot, moving diagonally from the top right to the bottom left. The screen automatically centered itself on the heat source and zoomed in. The central screen followed. A truck appeared bouncing along a dirt track. The screens zoomed out. Then zoomed in on another hot spot. Keller tensed. The central screen revealed a large metallic structure embedded into the vertical side of a gorge.
        "There!" exclaimed Hammet. "Goddamm!"

        Catherine lay in bed and groaned as the alarm came on. She reached out sleepily and silenced it. For three nights she had been barely able to sleep, her thoughts occupied with the excitement of discovery. She reeled each time she thought of the message the alien had written on the laptop.
        After convincing General Sachs, they had escorted the alien under heavy guard to the UFO. Catherine had watched a cabinet whoosh open as the alien approached it. Inside they found food which the humanoid had devoured. A sample had been sent to several labs around the country and a team of their own chemists were busily analyzing the contents. Mostly known chemical components but with a different organic structure.
        Brainwaves! she had exclaimed, confirming her suspicions. The aliens used specific electric brainwave patterns to activate receivers found around doors through X-RAY examination. These connected to mechanical and magnetic actuators that opened and closed the doors. Catherine was ready to bet that the whole ship operated the same way.
        Under her supervision, they had taped a series of electrodes to the alien’s head and led him back into the UFO. This time around the alien was uncooperative. He had ripped the electrodes off and refused to open the cabinet. Threats had no effect and every time they reset the brainwave recorder he kept tearing the electrodes off. Finally, Catherine had demonstrated the effectiveness of superglue by permanently affixing the electrodes to the humanoid’s skin. Unfortunately, he steadfastly refused to operate anything inside the vessel.
        But, Catherine had a plan. She bolted out of bed and headed for the shower. Now, all she had to do was convince Dr. Richards.

        Keller was in the firing range practicing with the new laser rifles when his beeper came on. The message ordered him and his team to the operations room. Time to waltz, he thought.
        He pulled off his goggles and said: "Okay guys. Ops room. Let’s go." Colonel Hammet was in the room when they entered, in company of two suited analysts.
        "Gentlemen," said Hammet, his ever present cigar clenched between his teeth. "Not much time. This is an alien base," he said point to a satellite image. "Or at least, we think it is. General Sachs wants us to find out and that’s where you come in.
        "The entrance to the base as far as we can ascertain is here," he said pointing at a large blown-up picture. "You look here you’ll see a large circular opening at ground level. We’ve seen some activity over the past hours, specifically two humanoids came out a did something here," he said pointing to a section of the photo. "We think they could be using a communication device. Now, note that this is a vertical wall, the north side of this gorge. The access door is at the bottom. From what we think the best route in is rappelling down the wall. Otherwise, you’d have to hike up the canyon all the way from," he moved his hand up the map, "here.
        "The mission, gentlemen, is to infiltrate and take over the base. We definitely want as much equipment and weapons as intact as possible, as well as any prisoners we can capture. Success and we’ll give our lab boys enough stuff to assure them erections for a year. X-COM Team Two is already moving into position here." He pointed at another spot.
        "Air support," he said. "You’ll have all the stuff you need from Roosevelt, plus a squadron of B-52 are already on route with Tomahawks. Two AC-130H ‘Specter Ghosts’ will be on call. Questions?"
        "Any indication of what we’ll be up against?" asked Keller
        "None," responded Hammet. "The base is cut into the ground, into the side of the gorge as you can see. We are blank as to the size of the base or the number of aliens inside. So far, we’ve just spotted the two." "External defenses?" asked Ridge.
        "Nothing that we can see. No lookouts or guards either." None that can be seen in the satellite photos, thought Keller.
        "Gentlemen, you are the best we have. Prove it. Best of luck. Kick ass."

        Keller tightened his seat belt as the scramjet engines roared to life. The rest of the team cast uneasy glances around the spartan cabin of the Hyper-X aircraft. Seats firmly anchored to the floor were all that could be seen inside. The structural aluminum ribs were laid bare as were hoses and insulated wiring. In comparison a military aircraft seemed like a luxury private jet.
        The roar of the engines increased as the aircraft taxied to the runway.

If you feel like contacting me with criticism (constructive, I hope) please do so at fsch@elpais.es