Andy - A UFO Story

by Cindy Massey

© August, 2000

 

Authors Note:  This story is a work of Fiction.  Any resemblance to any person, organization or alien, living or dead, is purely coincidental.  Characters and content from Gerry Anderson’s 1970 TV show U.F.O. have been borrowed without permission and no copyright infringement is intended.  I am making no profit from this story, it is purely an expression of my love/obsession for the ideas put forward in this wonderful show. 

Andy/Cheala, Pub Owner Charlie MacBride, SHADO Operatives Kevin Marsdale, Adrian Maczinski, Miguel Martinez, Operative Hatcher, Dr. James Ebersole and all the members of Straker’s Eagles are my creations.  They and this story are copyrighted by me so please do not redistribute  them without my permission.

 (Thanks to all members of the Writemice, especially Ameilia, Anny, Sheila and Carly,  for putting up with my sister’s drip-feeding of this story.)

Feedback and comments are welcome.  Please feel free to  contact me.

 

            Alec Freeman sat back in the studio director's chair and glared absently across the room, deep in thought.  There were only so many possibilities, and none of them were very comforting.  He heard Miss Ealand's voice over the intercom, telling him that there was still no response to the page.  As he leaned forward to acknowledge her report, his eyes focused on the giant cardboard standup in the corner.

            "Thank you, Miss Ealand," he said into the intercom as he stood up.  Some small detail about that standup was nagging at him.  He walked over to the thing and examined it one more time.

            Standing nearly six feet in height, the poster depicted an American eagle, its wings up and talons extended in preparation for scooping up its hapless prey.  Scrawled across the bird's image, in vibrant red, white and blue letters, was what Alec considered easily the worst poetry he'd ever read:

 

"In our younger days, we followed you,

And many were the miles we flew,

And great the feats that we performed...

Many medals with which we were adorned...

You taught us to always know right from wrong ..

And to never give up the fight, no matter how long ...

You kept us from dying ...

Our ladies from crying ...

Until that horrible fateful day

When you retired and went away.

 

Movie mogul you may now be,

But once, like us, you were wild and free.

The times are changing, we all know it's true ....

But the time has come to reunite the Blue.

We don't ask for much, just a few hours of time,

Like the night we spent on the banks of the Rhine.

Two previous invitations ... we just thought we'd mention ...

Failed to capture your executive attention.

And so with great attention to detail,

Here's the last one we care to mail.

If you're not there when we start the fun ...

We'll come and get you ..  no matter where you run!"

 

 

            Alec grimaced as he read it over again, wishing he hadn't.  The signature at the bottom ... or was it more than one? ... was completely illegible, but he knew where it had come from.  Or at least, who it had come from. 

            Paul Foster walked in as Alec leaned over to examine the section of the poster that made up the lower portion of the near wing.  "Still no word?" Foster asked.

            "Nothing," Alec answered absently, squinting hard at the edge of the wing.  He nodded in satisfaction a moment later as he made out the lettering there.  "Just like them," he muttered.

            "What is?"  Paul squatted down beside Alec, wondering what he was looking at.   "And who is 'them'?"  Personally, he thought this thing should have been burned as soon as it had arrived last week.  He couldn't understand why Straker had kept it.

            "Straker's old squadron," Alec said, leaning a little closer to the poster.  "They hid the name of the meeting place in the ...."

            Alec's voice trailed off as he finally made out the name.  He straightened, a horrified look on his face, and looked at Paul.  "What was the name of that pub?"

            "The one the UFO crashed into last night?"  Paul stood up, still looking distastefully at the poster.  "The Eagle's Nest.  Why?"

            A choked sound from Alec made him turn his head.  He was about to ask what was wrong when it dawned on him.  He glanced back at the poster, then quickly looked at Alec.  "He was there?"  Paul's stomach began doing back flips as the look on Alec's face gave him his answer.  "Alec,"  he whispered hoarsely,  "Alec, we haven't found any survivors at that site...."

 

**********  **********

 

Twenty-two hours earlier ............

 

            The Eagle's Nest pub, not far from London, hadn't seen a day like this in years.  All afternoon long they'd come, by ones and twos, until the place was filled with Americans.  Loud, boisterous, demanding Americans.  The locals who usually frequented the pub were huddled in one corner, occasionally glaring distastefully at the Americans who had "taken over".

            But Eagle's Nest owner Charlie MacBride didn't mind the noise.  They were paying well for the privilege of using his pub as a meeting place, not to mention what they were paying for the drinks they were ordering.  A lot of those were ending up on the floor as the Americans jostled each other, slapped each other on the back and laughed about the tales they were telling, but Charlie didn't mind.  They'd agreed to clean up the place when they were through, too.

            Besides, Charlie knew most of these guys.  They'd all served together in the American Air Force, all under the same commanding officer, and while Charlie had been in the British version of the AF, he'd spent some time with them.  Yes, he knew them well, and (though he'd never in a million years consider admitting it to his wife) he missed the camaraderie they'd enjoyed in the service.  He'd welcomed the chance to open his pub to this group.

            Around half past six, he'd counted the group.  They were still two short.  The commanding officer wasn't there, and Charlie was having serious doubts that he'd show up.  Charlie had heard the CO had retired and was busy with some kind of major something in the private sector so he never got away for social things like this one. 

            The other missing person was the second in command, but Charlie was sure the Lieutenant  Colonel wouldn't be there.  He'd heard that Lt. Colonel Petrov was dead.  Had died in some kind of airplane crash, so the story went.  A very messy crash, from the accounts Charlie had heard.

            At five minutes to seven, Charlie was drawing up another round when he heard Lt. "Rocky" Chalmers (retired) shouting something over the noise.  When Charlie turned around, every one of his American patrons was standing at perfect military attention.  One of the guys in the back broke formation long enough to pull the plug on the juke box, and silence descended over the pub for the first time since mid-afternoon.

            "Colonel, sir!" Chalmers barked, snapping a salute in the direction of the doorway.  "Blue Eagle Squadron ready for inspection, sir!"

            Charlie saw several non-military grins break out on the faces of the Eagles as their former commanding officer strolled in, scowling behind a pair of dark glasses.  The hair was different ... platinum now, instead of the brown Charlie remembered ... and the navy suit he was wearing wasn't a military uniform, but there was something about the way he carried himself as he strolled into the pub's public room that shouted "OFFICER".  Charlie had to hand it to the man ... it was quite an entrance.  With a soft chuckle, Charlie returned to his task.

            The former commanding officer of Blue Eagle Squadron strolled casually over to where his comrades stood, still at attention.  He stopped in front of them and took off the dark glasses, which he tucked into a pocket.  He looked over the group for a moment, then stepped closer, as if beginning an inspection.  He slowly walked up then down the length of the public room, looking each man over carefully, just as he would have done during their time in service.  Finally, he returned to the position from which he'd started, directly in front of the middle of the two lines of men.

            He stood there silently, looking them over again as a group and slowly shaking his head for another moment or so.  "Lt. Chalmers," he finally said, trying hard not to grin as he said it.  "Do you call this a military squadron?"

            "Well, sir,"  Chalmers began, but got no farther because a voice from the doorway interrupted him.

            "They are rather out of shape, aren't they, Colonel?"

            Every head in the pub -- American and British alike -- wrenched around toward the doorway.  Standing there, leaning casually against the door frame, was a young blonde woman, wearing a short, sleeveless red dress.  She had a white jacket slung over one shoulder, leaving her arms bare, and an American eagle similar to the one on the poster in Straker's office tattooed on her right bicep. 

            She stood there looking at the Americans for a moment, then casually strolled over to the group.  Without looking to see whether he caught it, she tossed her jacket in Chalmers' direction, then slipped her arms around the Colonel's neck, drew his head down slightly and engaged him in a long, deep, breath-taking kiss.  Catcalls and wolf whistles broke out from the Yanks as the Colonel, after a moment's hesitation, responded by wrapping his arms around her and returning the kiss with passion.  Someone plugged the juke box back in and the party began in earnest.  No one knew  -- or cared -- that before the night was over, tragedy would strike at the Eagle's Nest.

 

**********  **********

 

            SHADO operatives Kevin Marsdale, Adrian Maczinski and Miguel Martinez huddled closer to their drinks in the back booth of the Eagle's Nest pub.  They usually stopped off here for a pint after their shift was over at SHADO Headquarters, and generally enjoyed the atmosphere in the pub.  Tonight, however, the place had been overrun by Yanks, and the three operatives were distinctly unhappy.

            Not that they objected to the Yanks, of course.  After all, the Commander was a Yank.  So was Marsdale, if you wanted to be technical about it.  He'd been born in Connecticut, but his family had moved to England when Kevin was eight. 

            No, the problem was that these Yanks were so bloody loud.  No one could enjoy a peaceful conversation in the pub tonight.  All three of the operatives were wishing they had foregone their nightly ritual when a sudden silence fell over the pub.   Marsdale muttered softly, "Finally!"

            "Colonel, sir!" one of the Yanks barked as Maczinski looked up to see what was happening.  The Yank was snapping a salute in the direction of the doorway.  "Blue Eagle Squadron ready for inspection, sir!"

            Maczinski was about to take a drink of his ale when saw a beautiful blonde walk in the pub's door.  He grinned as he whispered to his friends, "Cheala decided to join us after all."

            The other two didn't answer.  They were busy watching in amazement as their commander began his inspection.  Apparently, Mac hadn't seen Straker come in, but Martinez and Marsdale were too surprised to say anything at the moment.  Straker just didn't visit pubs.

            As Straker finished inspecting his troops, Marsdale and Martinez grinned at each other.  Marsdale punched Mac in the hip, although he was aiming for Mac's side, to clue him in to Straker's presence.  Marsdale and Martinez knew that if they stayed long enough they would have quite a tale to tell tomorrow.  This was turning out to be not such a bad night after all.

            When the sultry voice spoke up from the doorway, Maczinski was in the process of standing up to wave their associate, Lt. Cheala O'Brien, over to their table.  Marsdale and Martinez joined the rest of the pub's patrons in looking over to see who was speaking.

            All three of them blinked rapidly, their mouths dropping open in astonishment as Lt. O'Brien sauntered across the room, slipped her arms around Straker's neck and kissed him.  When Straker not only seemed to return the kiss, but actually wrapped his arms around the girl and pulled her closer to him, the three operatives looked at each other in total shock.   Never in all the time they had been with SHADO had they seen him even look twice at any of the women at the studio.  And now, here he was not only looking twice, he was kissing her!  Passionately!  In public!  No one was ever going to believe their story when they returned to work tomorrow.

            Maczinski, Martinez and Marsdale stayed longer than usual at the pub, watching the Yanks,  Commander Straker, and their friend Cheala.   Straker was most definitely not the same man they'd come to know as SHADO's commanding officer.  Although as usual he refused all alcoholic drinks, the rest of his behavior was so far from what they'd come to think of as his "norm" that they were having difficulty believing he was the same person.  As for Cheala, they'd never had a clue that she'd even so much as met the commander, much less that she knew this man who was old enough to be her father as well as it appeared she did tonight.

            Marsdale and Martinez finally left around ten, leaving Maczinski to watch alone.  All three agreed to meet early the next morning to compare notes, and to allow Mac time to bring the others up to date on what happened after they left.  So it was that Mac was sitting alone in the back booth when the pub's owner served the last round. 

            The Yanks all downed their drinks, and then most of them left.  Straker and Cheala were talking quietly in a booth across from Mac, and he wished he was close enough to overhear their conversation.  From where he was sitting, it looked as though she were sitting in the Commander's lap, and that there wasn't much talking going on.

            Finally, though, the two of them, their faces slightly flushed, got up and headed for the door.  Straker shook hands with Charlie and  the three remaining Yanks -- the ones they'd been calling "Rocky", "Shaker" and "Munchkin" -- who were busily cleaning up the pub.  Cheala, whom everyone seemed to want to call "Andy", gave each of them a light kiss on the cheek and a hug and then the two strolled out the door, Straker's arm around her waist.  Mac waited a few moments, then followed them out after settling his bill with Charlie.

            He didn't see Straker or Cheala in the parking lot as he paused to locate his car.  It was possible they were on the other side of the building, but Mac didn't fancy being caught spying on the commander.  So he climbed into his car and headed for home.  On the road, he glanced at the dashboard clock -- 12:37 AM -- and sighed.  His wife was going to kill him. 

            Then his eyes caught the image in his rearview mirror and he forgot all about the time, his wife, home, everything.  Tires screeching, Mac pulled over to the side of the road and got out, turning toward the pub just as the UFO crashed into the building and exploded.  He ducked as debris flew in all directions, then just stood there looking at the mess for a moment, stunned.  With a curse, he began running back up the road toward the pub.  If Straker  and Cheala were still there when that thing crashed .............................

 

 

**********  **********

 

            "Colonel Freeman, is it true?"  Lt. Keith Ford asked as the colonel in question stepped into the Mobile Command post.  "Was Commander Straker here when ....?"

            Alec glared at the communications technician.  He and Paul had left the studio immediately after discovering the Eagle's Nest Pub's name on the poster in Straker's office.  Apparently, though, the rumors had gotten here before them.  "We don't know that for certain, Lieutenant," he finally answered.  "That's one of the things we're going to have to find out the hard way."

            The command post staff all nodded solemnly and returned to work.  Alec sat down at an unoccupied console and pulled up the latest reports.  It didn't look good.  There was very little left of the Eagle's Nest, and not much more of the vehicles which had been parked outside it.  They'd found several bodies, but hadn't been able to identify them as yet.  Alec was wondering how many of the Eagle Squadron had made it to the reunion -- and how many of those bodies he knew -- when Paul hurried into the mobile. 

            "Alec!"  Paul paused barely a moment to take a breath.  "We've found a survivor!"        

 

**********  **********

 

            Together Alec and Paul left the command post and picked their way as fast as they could across the debris field.  Paul led the way toward what was once the pub's back parking lot.  Near the far edge, Alec could see a group of SHADO operatives digging carefully through the debris. By the time the two colonels arrived at the scene, the operatives had the young blonde woman free and on a stretcher.

            "It's Cheala," reported one of the operatives by the stretcher as he helped cover her with a blanket.  "Cheala O'Brien.  She's alive, but unconscious."

            Alec nodded slowly, his eyes on the tattoo visible on her upper arm.  With a frown, he let his gaze slide to her face, then looked at the operative who'd spoken, Lt. Adrian Maczinski.  "What's the nearest hospital?"

            Maczinski looked up in surprise.  "Ebersole Clinic is just about 5 minutes down the road," he said.  "But, Colonel, Mayland's only fifteen minutes from ..."

            "Ebersole Clinic will do," Alec cut him off.  "Paul, I'm going with her to the clinic.  Maybe she can tell us something if she wakes up.  You stay here.  Keep looking for Straker.  And keep me informed."

            Paul and Maczinski exchanged puzzled glances as Alec walked away with the stretcher crew.  Ebersole Clinic was closer, true, but Mayland Hospital -- SHADO's hospital -- was only fifteen minutes away.  The girl didn't appear to be badly injured, so the extra ten minutes shouldn't make any difference in getting her medical attention.  And Mayland was much more secure than the clinic.  After a moment, Paul shrugged and ordered everyone back to work sifting through the debris, searching for more bodies or, hopefully, survivors.

 

**********  **********

 

            Twenty minutes later, Freeman was standing in the waiting area of the Ebersole Clinic with Lts. Marsdale and Hatcher, the two operatives who'd brought the girl in.  They were still wondering why here instead of Mayland, but they weren't going to argue with the Colonel.  He'd had a vicious scowl on his face ever since he'd first seen Lt. O'Brien at the pub/crash site.  Now they were all just waiting to find out if the girl was going to be okay, and when they would be able to talk to her.

            Dr. James Ebersole stepped out of his examination room and looked around for a moment.  He spotted Freeman and the two operatives and headed in their direction, pulling off his rubber gloves as he walked over.  "I'm sorry," he said when he was close enough to be heard.  "She's going to be unconscious for a while.  She has a severe concussion.  Possibly even some brain damage.  We'll do everything we can, but it's just going to take a while before we know."

            The two operatives nodded.  Colonel Freeman, though, scowled even more.   After a moment, he took the doctor by the arm and stepped to one side.  A short, quiet conversation followed, then the doctor nodded and Freeman came back over to the two operatives.  He looked the two of them over for a moment.  "Lt. Marsdale, you'll stay here and keep an eye on her.  I want to know the instant she wakes up.  And I expect to find her here when I get back.  Under no circumstances is she to leave this clinic.  Is that understood?"

            "Yes,sir," Marsdale answered as Freeman started for the door.  Hatcher spared a confused glance at Marsdale, shrugged and then followed Freeman out.   Apparently, explanations would have to come later.

 

**********  **********

 

Six and a half hours later .....

 

            Colonel Paul Foster paused to look around.  He was tired, dirty and frustrated.  They'd been going through the debris for hours, with no luck.  The only sign of Straker they'd found .. or at least, the only sign they could identify ... was his pager.  Foster had found it by following the sound it was making as it repeatedly announced the pages Miss Ealand had sent earlier.

            Six bodies and one survivor had been recovered from what was left of the pub and its parking lot.  One survivor who appeared to be a SHADO operative.  A very mysterious SHADO operative, with secrets no one had suspected.  Paul himself had known Cheala O'Brien for several months.  Had dated her several times, in fact.  But he'd had no clue that she knew either Straker or Alec.  Freeman apparently knew her, though.  And wasn't happy that she'd turned up here.

            After Alec left to take the girl to the clinic, Lt. Maczinski had informed Foster of what he and his friends had seen the night before.  Paul found parts of Marsdale's story hard to swallow.  He just couldn't picture either Straker or Cheala in the situation the lieutenant was describing, although he knew neither Maczkinski nor Marsdale had any reason to lie about what they’d seen.

            He'd passed the information along to Alec as soon as he returned from the clinic.  Alec had growled something unintelligible and ordered a security team sent to the Ebersole clinic.  Then he'd isolated himself in the command mobile for a couple of hours, going through obscure computer records and apparently becoming even more frustrated.

            The rest of the SHADO team onsite had continued searching through the debris, trying to find more bodies or, hopefully, survivors.  They could account for five of the bodies they'd recovered -- the bar's owner, one of the barmaids and three of the Americans who'd been partying at the pub.  The sixth could be an alien from the UFO .... or it could be Straker.  Until the SHADO medical/forensics teams could identify the bodies, no one would know for certain.

            Paul sighed unhappily and started to go back to sifting through the debris.  He caught sight of Alec heading for his car, though, and straightened up again.  He frowned and headed toward his own car.  Alec had been acting strangely ever since they'd found Cheala and if he was leaving now, before they were finished, Paul was interested in seeing where he was going.

            He stayed just far enough behind Alec to be fairly certain he wasn't noticed, but close enough to keep an eye on where Alec went.  There was plenty of traffic on the road at the moment -- most of it SHADO cars, either coming or going from the crash site -- and Paul felt reasonably confident Alec wouldn't realize he was being followed.

            Expecting a long drive ahead of him, Paul almost missed it when Alec turned off the road into a parking lot.  Paul passed the turnoff, giving a quick glance into the lot and noting that the sign  advertising the name of the business read "Ebersole Medical Clinic".  He was very glad he'd not followed Alec in, since Alec's was the only car there of SHADO design.  He drove a bit farther down the road, then turned around.  By the time he'd returned, he hoped Alec would be inside, although he had to wonder why Alec had returned here.

            He cruised slowly past Alec's car, noting with satisfaction that he'd timed it right.  There was no sign of Alec in the car or the parking lot.  He had to be inside.  Paul found a parking place and headed inside to find out what was going on.

 

**********  **********

 

            Colonel Alec Freeman stepped out of the command mobile and took a quick look around at the SHADO personnel busily working on the crash site.  He was tired,  and dirty and completely frustrated, and knew the people around him were feeling the same way.  Freeman was also very worried.  Other than the pager Foster had found, there was no sign of Straker anywhere .. or at least, no other sign they could identify.

            The six bodies they'd recovered were in the hands of the SHADO medical/forensics teams back at headquarters.  It might take a while, but they would be identified.  For some reason he couldn't explain, though, Alec was almost sure none of them would be identified as Straker.

            One of the SHADO operatives working out there had been at the pub just before the UFO crashed.  That explained how the rumors about Straker had gotten around before the two colonels had arrived this evening.  Lt. Maczinski had been able to tell them that there were three Americans, one barmaid and the pub's owner still inside when the UFO crashed.  That accounted for five of the bodies they'd recovered.  Alec was almost positive the sixth was an alien. 

            Alec knew Paul wanted some answers about what was going on with the girl they'd dug out of the debris.  Frankly, Alec wanted some answers, too, but they weren't the same questions Paul was asking.  Through his computer search, he'd discovered that Lt. Cheala O'Brien had been a SHADO operative for a few days over 18 months, and had managed to access every part of SHADO during that time except the command center.  Her supervisors had noted that she had been avoiding assignment to Command by volunteering for other assignments whenever the possibility of a transfer to Command came up.  Alec knew why.

            He took another look around, locating Foster and noting with some slight satisfaction that he was busy digging through debris, then headed for his car.  Lt. Marsdale, at the clinic, had just notified him that Lt. O'Brien was awake.

            He drove down the road to the Ebersole Medical Clinic.  He sat in the car for a moment once he'd parked, just staring absently at the building.  Finally he got out and went inside, where the receptionist pointed him down the hall toward Dr. Ebersole's office.  He smiled at her and walked away without any of his usual small talk.

            A few moments later, he re-emerged from the doctor’s private office, a small keyring held tightly in one hand and a frown on his face.  He paused a moment outside the door, then turned and headed down the hall to room 6.  He paused once again outside the door to the room, then inserted the key into the lock, opened the door and stepped inside.

 

**********  **********

 

            Foster watched as Alec came out of a door down the corridor, then turned back to the cute receptionist.  He'd been talking to her for a few minutes, trying to decide the best way to get information from her, when he'd happened to glance down the hallway.  He was pretty sure Alec hadn't seen him, but he turned away for a moment anyway.

            The receptionist smiled up at him sweetly, and Paul thought to himself that he should remember to come back and ask her out when this was all over.  Whatever this was, that is.  He smiled back and then looked back in Alec's direction when the girl paused their conversation in order to answer the phone.  Alec was just disappearing through a door at the end of the hall.

            Paul took a quick, smiling glance back at the receptionist, noted she was busy looking something up and wasn't watching him, and then walked quickly down the hallway to the door Alec had gone through.  He paused a moment with his hand on the doorknob, listening.  He thought he could hear a low, murmuring voice inside, and then heard Alec saying something in reply.

            Paul nodded to himself and, hearing the receptionist calling "Hey, you can't go in there!", he turned the handle and stepped into the room.

 

**********  **********

 

            "That's not funny, Alec," the girl was saying as Paul stepped into the room.  She was sitting in the bed, leaned back against a stack of pillows glaring at Alec.  Except for a slight smudge of dirt on the end of her nose, there was no visible sign that she'd been anywhere near the crash site.  Both she and Alec looked quickly toward the door as it closed behind Paul.

            "Cheala?"  Paul asked after a brief moment of stunned silence.  He looked at Alec.  "What's going on here, Alec?"

            Alec glared at Paul, ignoring the glare the girl focused on  him.  "What are you doing here, Foster?  You're supposed to be handling things at the pub."

            "I'm trying to find out what's going on!  You've been acting strangely most of the day, and I thought it was time to see what was up."

            The girl in the bed sighed quietly to herself, looking back and forth between the two of them as they continued to argue.  Alec obviously had something he was determined to keep hidden, and Paul was equally determined to find out what it was.  Their voices began to rise steadily as they each became angrier about the situation.  Finally, a loud, sharp whistle cut through their conversation and they both looked over at the girl, who was glaring angrily at both of them.

            "Do you think you could argue about this later?" she practically growled at them.  She settled her glare on Alec as they backed down.  "Now.  What did you mean, you don't know?"

            "I mean, we don't know," Alec told her.  "We haven't found him yet."

            "You what?"  The girl blinked at Alec in surprise.

            "He said we haven't found him yet," Paul reiterated.

            The girl turned to look at him.   "You haven't found him yet?  Why not?"  She paused for only a moment, then sat up a little straighter.  "He should have been right there.  Right where I was."

            "You did leave with him, then?"  Paul asked, wondering what had happened to both the deep cut on her forehead and that Irish accent she normally had.  The cut was gone, leaving behind not even a scar, and the accent was more American than Irish.  There was obviously something going on here besides Straker being missing, and Cheala was right in the middle of it.

            "We can cover that later, Paul," Alec said, glaring at Cheala and drawing her attention once again.  "Where have you been?"

            "We can cover that later, Alec. "  She glanced at Paul, then continued.  "Yes, we left the pub together.  We were in the back parking lot, talking, when I saw the UFO coming in.  We hit the ground, and there was a lot of light and a lot of noise and ... that's about all I remember.  He should have been right there beside me."

            "We found his pager in that area," Paul told her.  "But there's no sign of him."

            She lowered her head and grimaced, then threw back the blanket and swung her legs off the edge of the bed.  "Alright, then.  Let's go."

            Alec put a hand on her shoulder.  "Where do you think you're going?"

            "To help look for him, of course."  She looked at Paul.  "Paul, do you think you could find me some clothes?  I'm afraid my dress is .... unwearable."

            Paul blinked at her, then looked at Alec.  She hadn't been that badly hurt when they pulled her out of the debris, but she shouldn't be ready to get up and go look for Straker, either.  She had been hurt, after all.  And again, where was the Irish accent?  And how did she know Freeman well enough to call him Alec?  And what had she and Straker been talking about in the back parking lot?   For that matter, was she really kissing Straker the way Mac had reported?

            Alec shook his head at Paul, then pushed the girl back down onto the bed.  "You're not going anywhere, Andy.  We can handle it...."

            "Alec, ..." she interrupted him, ready to argue.

            He raised his voice slightly, keeping his hand on her shoulder and holding her in the bed.  "We can handle it.  And when we've found him, I want some answers from you.  So will he.  And Henderson."  Alec paused as she grimaced at the mention of Henderson's name, then he looked up at Paul again.  "Paul, since you're so interested in what's going on here, you can keep an eye on her.  She is not to leave this room.  Not for any reason.  I'll send another security team over to help you, but in the meantime, I'm holding you personally responsible for seeing to it that she doesn't disappear again."  Before either Paul or Cheala could object, Alec turned and walked out of the room, leaving them staring at each other. 

 

**********  **********

 

            Paul stared at Cheala for a moment, his thoughts racing.  Disappear again?  When had she disappeared before?  She'd been with SHADO for 18 months and her record showed no missing time, no hint that she'd been anything but an extremely talented operative with an aversion to working in Control. 

            She was still sitting on the edge of the bed, ready to get up and join the rest of the SHADO teams out there looking for the commander.  Except for the clothes, she looked the same as she had last week when Paul had taken her out to dinner .... long blonde hair slightly mussed, skin showing a healthy tan, her ice-blue eyes ....

            Her eyes were on the door, not him.  But he could see the pain and grief that filled them.  Straker obviously meant more to her than he'd suspected.  But he'd had no clue she even knew him.  How could she ......

            Paul shook his head in confusion, then rushed through the door after Freeman.  "Alec!"  he called.  "Alec, wait a minute!"

            Freeman was just about halfway down the corridor.  He paused and turned back toward Paul, giving an angry glare in the direction of the doorway.

            "Alright," Paul said, catching up to him.  "I'm responsible for her.  I'll make certain she doesn't disappear.  But I need to know ... Is she under arrest?  And if so, what for?"

            "How do desertion, espionage and treason sound for a start?" Alec asked, casting another angry look toward Cheala's door.  "You could also add theft, assaulting a superior officer, destruction of military property, and probable attempted murder to the list.  And it most likely wouldn't stop there."

            "What?"  Paul also looked back toward the room.  "Cheala?"  Foster shook his head and looked back at Freeman.  "I don't buy it.  I've seen her record, Alec.  I know her."

            "You haven't seen everything, Paul."   Alec sighed audibly and  rubbed the bridge of his nose.   "And you only think you know her.  We'll talk about it later.  To answer your question, no, she's not been arrested.  Yet.  And she probably wouldn't go anywhere but back to the crash site until Straker's found, but I'm not taking the chance.  There are a lot of questions that need to be answered.  Questions only she can answer."

            "So if she's so keen on helping to find him, why not let her?  There's a lot of ground to cover out there, Alec.  Another person ... or two ... could make a difference."

            Freeman sighed again.  He was tired, and worried, and he really didn't need this to be happening right now.  "Fine," he said wearily after a moment.  "But you're ..."

            "I know," Paul interrupted.  "I'm responsible for keeping up with her.  Don't worry, Alec.  I won't let her out of my sight."

 

**********  **********

 

            Paul stopped and leaned against a tree, taking a moment to catch his breath.  "Cheala!  Cheala, where are you?"  He listened carefully for her answer.  Any answer.  She couldn't be that far ahead of him.  Could she?  "Come on, Cheala," he whispered softly, closing his eyes and then jumping as something tapped him on the shoulder.

            "I'm right here, Paul."  Cheala O'Brien grinned up at him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder.  "What's the matter?  Having trouble keeping up with me?"

            Foster frowned back at her for a moment, then gave a sheepish grin.  She had promised him that she wouldn't disappear on him before they left the clinic, and Paul trusted her to keep her word.  She wasn't making it exactly easy for him to continue trusting her, though.  This was the third time in the last hour he'd lost sight of her.

            Cheala sat down cross-legged on the ground in front of him.  For a moment, she bowed her head, looking at the soft grass growing between the trees.  She reached down to pluck a blade, stuck it in her mouth, then looked up at him.  "I'm sorry, Paul," she said quietly, her face serious.  "I know you're supposed to be keeping an eye on me, and I also know I'm not exactly being the most cooperative ..... prisoner?"

            "You're not a prisoner," he answered, joining her on the grass and glad for the chance to rest a few minutes.

            "No?"  She looked him in the eyes.  "Okay, maybe not in technical terms.  But I am a prisoner.  I can't ... "  She let her voice trail off, leaving the rest of the thought unspoken.  Then she shrugged and looked back down at the grass.  "It doesn't really matter anymore.  I think I've decided it's time to .... come in.  To get the truth out.  I'm tired of running and hiding, of always looking over my shoulder, of never being able to settle in one place for long."

            Paul watched her as she ran her fingers through the grass.  There was a troubled frown on her face and she seemed to be a million miles away.  He reached over and took her hand.  "Look, I don't really know what's going on, but I think Alec's wrong about you.  Just give him a chance to get to know you a bit better and he'll come around."  With his free hand, he lifted her chin until she was looking at him.  "It'll all work out."

            Cheala's eyes met his and she smiled a slow, sad smile.  "No, Paul," she answered softly.  "He's not wrong.  At least, not about everything.  There are a few thngs he doesn't know the truth about, but ... "  She paused a moment, gently putting a hand on his cheek and caressing him.  "Alec Freeman knows me better than you do, whether you believe that or not.  I've known him a long time, Paul, and ... we didn't exactly part as friends when we last saw each other."

            "Just give him a chance, Cheala."

            She sighed softly and lowered her gaze.  After a moment, she asked, "So, are you ready to get back to finding the colon....commander?"

            It was his turn to sigh.  He really was tired, but she was right.  They were here ... they needed to keep looking.  Straker had to be out here somewhere.  He let her help him up, holding her hand longer than was really necessary.

            "I saw what looks like some blotches of blood over there," she told him, pointing over his left shoulder.  "It could be his.  He could have been hurt, confused .... Maybe he wandered off."

            "Let's take a look."  Paul didn't think it would work out, but she seemed so desperate to find Straker that he was willing to follow her lead.  Together, they started off to find the trail.

 

**********  **********

 

            Soft humming filled the air around him, a tuneless mechanical sound that was nevertheless somehow comforting.  There was a lot of pain -- everything ached to some degree, although his head was the worst of it.  It felt as though the tiniest movement would cause the top of it to fall off.  And he couldn't remember anything.  Not who he was, or where he was, or why he was there.  Nothing.

            He felt as though there was something important he needed to remember.  Something extremely urgent that he needed to take care of.  But he couldn't remember what it was.  He tried.  He tried hard, but the memories wouldn't come.  There was only the pain.  The pain and the humming sound.

            He concentrated on the humming, letting the pain fade to the background.  After a while, he relaxed, still with no knowlege of who ... or what ... or where .... or why ...  But it didn't matter.  Only the humming mattered, and it was there ... all around him.  Surrounding him with peace and comfort.

            He slept.

 

**********  **********

 

            "It's far enough, Cheala."  Paul stopped, bringing her to a halt as well.  He was holding her hand to keep her from being separated from him among the trees.  They'd been following the trail for nearly an hour now, and Paul was more than tired.  "It's probably an animal trail anyway.  Something got injured either in the crash or some other way, and now we're following the trail it left as it crawled away to die.  It's time to give it up and go back."

            "But ..."  She turned to look at him, ready to argue her case.  She was convinced they were following the trail Straker had left as he'd wandered, confused and hurt.  She realized, though, that Paul was nearing exhaustion.  She sighed and reluctantly nodded her head.  Maybe she could get him to let her keep looking with another "babysitter" if she'd agree to go back with him so he could get some rest.  She took another look in the direction they'd been travelling, then reluctantly turned to head back to the crash site.

            Paul gratefully slipped an arm around her shoulders and began walking back to the pub.  "We'll find him, Cheala.  He's just not out here.  He's got to be somewhere around the pub.  You know he wouldn't wander off.  And even if he did, he'd have called in by now. "

            "What if he's really hurt, though," she answered him quietly.  "What if he can't call in?"

            "There are a million 'what ifs', Lieutenant.  If we took the time to list them all, we'd never find him, now would we?"  Paul smiled at her.  "He'll be alright, I tell you."

            They walked in silence for a few minutes, then Cheala spoke again, softly.  "It's my fault, you know."  She didn't look up as Foster looked at her with a puzzled frown.  "If I hadn't come to the pub, he wouldn't have been here when the UFO crashed into it."

            "You don't know that," Paul said just as quietly.  "It's possible that, if you hadn't come, he might have been still inside the pub when the UFO crashed.  Alec said those were his old Air Force command.  He might have been still reminiscing with them ..."

            "Most of them had already gone.  And you know he doesn't drink alcohol, so what are the realistic chances that he would have still been here?"  She paused and finally did look up at him.  After a moment of silence, she shook her head.  "No.  If I hadn't come, he wouldn't be missing now."

            Paul sighed tiredly.  If she was anywhere near as tired as he was ...  Well, she couldn't be thinking straight, anyway.  Even if she was right that Straker probably wouldn't have stayed at the pub as long as he did if she hadn't been there.  Maczinski's report had made it clear that Straker had spent most of the evening with Cheala, not the members of his former command.

            Whatever the truth was, it didn't really matter now.  They couldn't change the past.  All they could do was find Straker and then get on with whatever was in store for them in the future.

 

**********  **********

 

Four hours later .....

 

            Cheala carefully lifted Foster's arm and slid out of his bed.  She stood by the side of the bed looking down at his sleeping form for a few minutes, then leaned over and gently kissed his forehead.  She didn't want to wake him because she knew he'd tell her she couldn't do what she was about to do.  Besides, he needed the sleep.

            Quietly she gathered her clothing, dressed and slipped out of the bedroom.  Foster's car keys lay where he'd left them, on a table by the front door of his apartment.  She paused long enough to leave him a short note, telling him where he could find her, then she slipped out of the apartment.

            That blood trail had been Straker's, she was positive.  No one else had even noticed it, and when it had been pointed out, everyone agreed with Paul that it was some animal that had crawled off to die.  Cheala O'Brien ... whatever the secret she was hiding ... was going to follow that trail to the end and find out for sure.

 

**********  **********

 

            The doorbell rang for the fifth time, finally penetrating the fog of sleep and registering in Foster's brain.  He pulled the pillow over his head, hoping whoever it was would just go away.  When the bell rang again, he groaned loudly and crawled out of bed.  A glance at the clock on the nightstand on the other side of the bed told him he'd been sleeping for a little under eight hours.  It didn't feel like it.

            He took two steps toward the bedroom door before he realized there was no one else in his bed.  He took a quick look around the room, then muttered to himself.  "Great! And that's probably Alec."

            He sighed once more and went to answer the door.  Seeing Alec Freeman standing there didn't improve his mood.  He left the door standing open and headed back to the bedroom to dress.  He guessed it would take Alec about thirty seconds to discover that Cheala O'Brien was gone.  And Paul had no idea where she might be.

            Alec hesitated a moment, then entered Foster's apartment and closed the door.  From the look on Paul's face, he guessed that the girl had disappeared and that Paul had just discovered it.  He noticed a sheet of paper on the table by the door and picked it up, reading the contents as he followed Paul to the bedroom.

            "Paul," Alec began.

            "I know," Foster cut in.  "I know.  You warned me.  And now she's gone and I don't know where she went or when she left or ..."

            "Back to the Eagle's Nest," Alec took the chance to cut Paul off.  He held up the note so Paul could see it.  "And she said thanks for the use of your car."  Alec paused and grinned as Paul simply sat on the edge of the bed staring at the note in disbelief.  "I told you, Paul.  She probably won't really disappear until Straker's found."

            "Which means I get another chance?" Foster didn't wait for Freeman's nod. He finished dressing and headed for the door.  "Can you give me a ride back to the crash site, Alec?"

 

**********  **********

            It didn’t take long for Alec and Paul to get back to the crash site area, but they found they couldn’t get very close.  A loud, angry group of Americans were lined up at the security post, demanding access to the pub … or rather, to what used to be the pub.  The SHADO security team was apparently having some trouble keeping the Americans out.

            Alec, with Paul right behind him, tried to force his way through the group, but the Americans weren’t about to budge.  A couple of them, recognizing Alec from days gone by, turned and began shouting questions at him, but no one was willing to give ground to let him and Paul through.

            One of the security guards raised his weapon, pointing it into the air and preparing to fire a few shots to get everyone’s attention.  Before he could pull the trigger, though, there was a loud, sharp whistle.  Even the Americans paused a moment as the sound cut through the noise.

            One of them, the one Alec recognized as (former) Lt. Skylar Lewis, called loudly for attention, and surprisingly, the Americans complied.  It wasn’t quite the smart military attention posture they had demonstrated at the party, but at least they were quiet.

            “Thank you, Skylar,” Alec heard someone say.  He and Paul both turned toward the security post as Cheala stepped forward.  The Americans were all watching her, Alec noted.

            “What do you all think you’re doing?” she asked, glaring at the group of fifteen former Eagles. 

            “Well, we’re…” one of them started to reply.  His voice trailed off as Cheala turned an angry glare in his direction.

            “Making nuisances of yourselves, right?”  She paused a moment, looking them over.  Finally, when the silence was becoming a little uncomfortable, her expression softened and she continued in a softer voice.  “Look, I know you all want to know what’s going on.  But this isn’t the way to get answers, now is it?”

            “No, ma’am,” Lewis answered for the group.  “Can you tell us what’s going on,  Andy?  Please?”

            Cheala hesitated another moment, registering the surprised looks from Paul and the SHADO guards.  Then she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and faced the Eagles.  “The truth is, gentlemen, there’s been an … incident.  An experimental prototype aircraft developed some problems during testing late last night.  Shortly after the party broke up, the pilot lost control of his aircraft and effected a very nasty, extremely messy crash landing.  Right on top of the Eagle’s Nest.”

            She paused a moment to let the news sink in.  “It gets worse, my friends.”  She looked the group over before continuing.  “Rocky, Shaker and Munchkin were still inside, along with Charlie and the barmaid.  They didn’t make it.”

            “Are you sure, Andy?” spoke up one of the men from the back, Christopher Gordon.

            “Yes, Topher, I’m sure.  The Colonel and I had just left the pub, only a couple of minutes before the crash.  I know the guys were still inside, because I’d just said goodbye to them.”

            After another long moment of silence, she continued.  “They were all good men, and we’re going to miss them.  The trouble right now is, ... the Colonel’s gone missing.  Now, for obvious reasons, these folks can’t let you inside the perimeter to help look for him.  But I’m not convinced he’s still here.  We’d’ve found him by now if he was.  So, what I’d like for you guys to do is to start checking the local hospitals and clinics.  Start with the ones near here and spread out.  Consider it a search and rescue, like we’ve done before.”

            Several of the former Eagles nodded as Lewis answered for the group.  “We’ll find him, ma’am.  Should we contact you here when we do?”

            Cheala glanced at Alec and Paul, who were starting to push their way through the group of Americans.  “No,” she answered, turning back to Lewis.  “You can get the guard post number from one of these guys, and report through them to Alec Freeman.  He’s one of those two guys trying to get through there.  I think some of you already know him.  He’s also in charge around here.”

            The Americans glanced at the two SHADO colonels trying to get past them, then silently parted, leaving an open path through their ranks to the security post gate.  Alec nodded his thanks and continued through the gate to stop beside Cheala.  Paul followed, taking up a position on Cheala’s other side.

            ”Alright, guys,” Cheala said, not looking at Paul or Alec.  “Get moving, okay?  And be nice when you call in.  These folks are only doing their jobs.”

            A few of the Americans saluted, most of the rest nodded, then all fifteen turned and left.  The two guards on duty at the gate breathed sighs of relief as the group departed. 

            Cheala sighed loudly, then turned to Alec, who had taken hold of her arm.  “Alright, now what?”

            Alec glared at her a moment, then signaled one of the security guards, who came over and handed him a set of handcuffs.  Before Cheala could protest, Alec snapped a cuff around one of her wrists, the other around one of Foster’s.  “Don’t lose her again, Paul.”  He then turned on his heel and walked away.

 

**********  **********

 

He woke.

The pain was still there, although he quickly discovered that if he didn’t move it was bearable.  There was still no memory of … no, there were vague memories, though they made no sense to him.  Lights and shadows, faces he knew he should recognize but didn’t, swirling colors, strange vehicles … It was all rather overwhelming.

The humming was still there, as well.  Still all around him, and still … strangely … comforting in its monotonous regularity.  He didn’t understand why he found it so soothing …  yet it gave him a sense of peace, as though he were used to being surrounded by the same soft, mechanical hum.

For a moment, he felt a sense of panic … a need to run, to hide, to lash out and fight … as cold hands slid slowly over his forehead and shoulder.  The pain in those two places increased, and he realized vaguely that there was some type of cloth wrapped tightly around his head and shoulder.  The hands probed gently for a moment, then there was a strange rustling sound that seemed to leave and then return.

He felt his head and shoulders being lifted slightly, and something was pressed to his lips.  Instinctively, he swallowed, then wondered if that had been a good idea.  The liquid had a strange metallic taste, but it was cold and burned like fire as it hit his parched throat.  He wanted to open his eyes to see who was there, but it was too much effort.  He took another swallow of the liquid, then turned his head away, feeling the coolness spill down his cheek and neck.  His benefactor lowered his head gently back to the ground.

 With a soft sigh, he let himself relax again, letting the humming envelop him and carry away the pain and the sense of … of … of something left undone.

Again, he slept.

 

**********  **********

 

            “Can’t you at least loosen this a little, Paul?”

            Foster stopped a moment to look at Cheala.  He’d briefly considered removing the handcuffs earlier, but had discarded the notion because he wasn’t sure he could trust her.  He had to admit that he wouldn’t mind taking off the cuffs, either.  The one around his own wrist was beginning to be more than annoying.

            However, since he didn’t … couldn’t … trust her, the cuffs stayed on.  He looked at her impassively for a moment, maintaining the silence that had been between them since Alec handcuffed them together, then just shook his head and moved on.  The search was far from over.

            Paul and Cheala were part of a group searching the woods near the crash site.  It was the same area he and Cheala had been in earlier, which had made things a bit easier for them at first.  They’d now gone past the point where the two had turned back, though, and the search was going much slower.

            “Look,” Cheala added, for the ninth time coming back around another tree they’d tried to pass on opposite sides.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have … disappeared on you like that.  But I did leave a note.  And I did come back here.  It’s just that … he’s out here somewhere.  He’s hurt, and …”

            “You don’t know that.”

            “Why else would he still be missing?  And what about all this blood?”

            “The blood isn’t Straker’s.”  Paul told her angrily.  The look on her face when he glanced at her caused him to relent a bit.  He stopped and faced her.  “Alec had a sample analyzed.  It’s …”

            Paul’s answer was cut off by a shout from one of the other searchers.  He gave her a small smile, then started off in the direction from which the shout came, paying no heed to the tugs on his wrist as Cheala struggled to keep up.

            They stepped into a small clearing a few moments later.  Alec and several SHADO operatives were gathered in a rough semi-circle near the opposite edge of the clearing.  Paul paused a moment to allow Cheala to catch her breath, then they joined the others to see what had been found.

            “We already knew this from the blood sample analysis,” Alec was saying.  “This just confirms it.  Spread out.  He can’t be far.”

            Cheala opened her mouth to ask what was happening, but closed it again as the persons in front of her moved away and her eyes fell on the object on the ground.  She turned very pale and sank slowly to the ground, her legs refusing to hold her up any longer.

            Lying there in a pool of sunlight breaking through the trees was an alien space suit.  There were small tears in places, as though the wearer had made a mad dash through the underbrush.  But there was no mistaking the large, jagged hole in one side, just above where the wearer’s left hip would be, or the blood that was slowly drying in great patches all over it.

            Realization set in and Cheala crumpled further.  She’d been following an alien … not Straker ….  She could hear vague sounds of someone calling her name, but it came from such a distance, and she was so tired ….

            Paul and Alec knelt on each side of her unconscious form, each calling the name they knew her by.  After a moment, they exchanged concerned looks, and then Alec called for a medical team to join them.

 

**********  **********

            Lts. Miguel Martinez and Adrian Maczinski exchanged glances, then dutifully moved off to search for the alien they now knew for certain was in the area.  Both were curious about why their friend Cheala O’Brien seemed to be under arrest, but neither wanted to ask Colonel Freeman about it.  They knew her conduct at the Americans’ reunion party could be considered ‘unbecoming an officer’, but it wasn’t serious enough to warrant her arrest.

            What was so wrong about her kissing the Commander, after all?  Of course, one didn’t normally go up to the commanding officer and kiss him the way Cheala had been kissing Straker – especially not in public! – but still, that wasn’t bad enough to arrest her.  It wasn’t as if she were responsible for his being missing now….  Was it?

            Martinez stopped suddenly, swinging out his arm to halt his partner and hitting him in the chest.  He knelt carefully where he was when he was sure Mac would stand still.  After a moment he stood up and pointed to the single distinct left boot print in the dust before them.  “This way,” he whispered softly.

            Mac looked where Martinez was pointing, then nodded silently.  There was no way of telling how far ahead of them the alien might be.  Quietly, they separated and moved ahead, following the tracks in the dirt as well as they could.

            The tracks were scuffed and indistinct in most places.  Only occasionally did the two trackers find one that was plain and clear, but it was enough to keep them moving.  The alien had to be found, whether it was dead, alive… or somewhere in between.

 

**********  **********

 

            Cheala O’Brien slowly opened her eyes to stare at the alien space suit lying a few feet away.  She was lying on her side on a soft carpet of grass, and could hear voices nearby.  What they were saying wasn’t important to her, though.  At the moment, she was more concerned with finding SHADO’s Commander.

            She’d been positive that she was on the right trail.  Just one look at the mess where the pub used to be had convinced her that the aliens couldn’t possibly have survived the crash.  The blood trail leading away from the pub had to be Straker’s.  Now, though, with incontrovertible proof lying before her eyes, she knew she’d been wrong about the aliens.

            The problem was, she wasn’t convinced she’d been wrong about Straker.  Even knowing an alien had survived the crash – even knowing an analysis had determined that the blood was alien – even knowing that they were following that alien’s trail now … still there was a part of her that was convinced Straker was somewhere ahead of them.

            A small, quiet voice deep inside told her she was right, that Straker had left a trail they could follow – whether that was his intention or not – and that they were following it.  Perhaps the alien was, too.  Or maybe Straker was following the alien.  He was rarely unarmed … perhaps he’d awakened in time to see the injured alien stagger away, and was following it even now to keep it from harming anyone. 

            Whatever the scenario, Cheala … or Andy, as some people seemed to choose to call her … trusted that small quiet voice deep inside herself.  On the few occasions when she’d ignored its warnings, she’d always regretted it.  With Straker missing, this was no time to ignore her instincts. 

            Quietly, slowly, she sat up and glanced around.  Alec and Paul were not far away, talking with the medics and some additional SHADO personnel who had come to join the search.  No one was presently looking in her direction, so no one saw her get up and glide silently away into the woods, following the same trail Martinez and Maczinski had followed.

            As Martinez had done, she stopped briefly to examine the tracks in the dust when she came across them.  She studied them a little longer, though, examining them from every possible angle.  After a few moments, she raised her head, looking grimly in the direction the tracks led.

            “Hang on, Eddie,” she whispered softly, standing and moving carefully off to follow the tracks.  “I’m coming.  Just hang on … and be okay when I find you.”

 

**********  **********

            Martinez jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.  He knew that Maczinski was on his other side, both of them lying prone on their stomachs near the top of a small rise, and wasn’t expecting anyone else to be there. 

            “Taking a break, guys?” Cheala asked as she stretched out on the grass beside Martinez.

            “You nearly gave me a coronary, Cheala,” Martinez answered, lowering the field glasses he had been looking through and turning his head to look at her.

            “You lost something, “ Mac added, referring to the handcuffs and Colonel Foster.  “You give the Colonel the slip?  Or did he just get tired of you following him around?”

            “Ha ha, Mac.  Very funny.”  Cheala lifted her head slightly, looking over the top of the rise.  “What are you looking at?”

            “Our friend went that way,” Martinez answered, nodding toward the other side of the rise.  “But we can’t tell exactly where.”

            Cheala studied the view on the other side of the rise where they lay.  The ground sloped gently downward to a large grassy meadow.  Near the center of the meadow was a cluster of neglected cinder block buildings.  The three buildings loomed tiredly over a badly overgrown parking area and were badly in need of paint.  They were obviously not visited frequently.  The fence around the buildings sagged in places, and the gates, once chained closed, stood open, one side hanging by only one hinge.

            Not far from where the trio lay, a scuffed, indistinct track in the dirt gave silent testimony that the alien had passed this way.  The trail led down into the meadow, but disappeared in the grass.

            She reached over and took the field glasses from Martinez.  “Did they go into the buildings, do you think?”

            “Hard to say,” Martinez answered.  “Seriously, Cheala.  What’s up with you?”

            Cheala paused for a second as she brought the glasses to her eyes.  After a moment of silence while she adjusted the lenses, she answered nonchalantly.  “Just a slight disagreement with Colonel Freeman.”

            “Uh huh,” Martinez looked toward her skeptically.  “He mad because you didn’t kiss him, too?”

            Cheala chuckled quietly.  “It was the three of you back there in that corner, wasn’t it?  I thought you looked familiar.”

            “And what happened to the Irish accent?” Mac asked.  “You have a ‘slight disagreement’ with it, too?”

            “Nope,” Cheala answered without lowering the field glasses.  “It’s really simple, Mac.  I’m not Irish.”

            Mac and Martinez exchanged glances.  “That much is obvious,” Martinez said.  “Come on, Cheala.  What’s going on?”

            “They went in.”  Cheala nodded, lowered the glasses to the ground and rolled over onto her back.  “You two want my life story?  Or do you want to find Straker and the alien?”

            The two answered in unison, “Both.”

            She shook her head slightly with a soft sigh, then rolled onto her side to face them.  “Can we do the life story later, guys?”     

            “We’re not going to let this go, Cheala,” Mac answered her.  “We expect the answers to our questions.”

            “You’ll get them,” she answered grimly.  “You won’t like ‘em, but you’ll get them.  Now, can we go down there and get E…er, Straker?”

            “You sure he’s down there?”  Martinez took the field glasses back.  “We were following the alien’s trail.”

            “He’s down there,” Cheala answered confidently.  “Unless you really think you’re following a one-legged alien.”  She watched her two companions exchange a puzzled look.  “You didn’t notice that all the clear prints are the same foot?”  Again, the two gave her blank stares.  “Come on, guys!  It’s always the left foot!”

            “Yeah,” Martinez said slowly.  “The alien was injured in the crash…”

            “Left hip, Marty,” Cheala interrupted.  “The alien’s space suit was ripped open above the left hip.  If the drag marks are his injured leg, then he’s got his boots on the wrong feet.”

            “You think he’s got Straker,” Mac spoke up, his face lighting up in comprehension.

            Martinez blinked, then nodded.  “That makes sense.  Straker has to be somewhere, and if he’d been anywhere else, we would have found him by now.”  He paused, looking toward the top of the rise.  “The alien found him, maybe recognized him .. maybe not … either way, …”

            “Either way, an injured Straker would make a perfect target for the alien,” Mac finished for him.

            “So are we going in or not?”  Cheala didn’t wait for an answer.  She got to her feet, keeping low so as not to present a target at the top of the rise, then glanced at her companions.  “Marty, go get Freeman and the others.  Mac, you go right, I’ll go left.  We’ll circle around and try to find a way in that’s not so obvious, and when Marty gets back with reinforcements, we can move in.”

            Martinez hesitated a moment, then nodded and slid back down the rise.  With a final glance back at his companions, he disappeared into the woods on his way to get help.  Maczinski watched him go, then gave Cheala a nod and slid off toward the right.

            Cheala watched the two of them disappear, then carefully took another look over the rise at the meadow and the buildings.  One more look after Maczinski and Martinez, then she dropped back to the ground and slowly inched her way over the top of the rise, following the trail as it lead into the meadow.

 

**********  **********

He slowly became aware of a wheezing sound, and wondered if it was coming from himself.  Someone couldn’t breathe very well, and they were close by.  The sound blended with his own heartbeat, the beeping sound that had appeared sometime earlier and the electrical hum and became directionless, an omnipresent jumble of sound that he found oddly comforting.  Except for that wheeze, that is.  That was becoming worrisome.

He knew his condition was bad.  He was weak, cold, tired, thirsty, in pain….  Even thinking was an effort now, and he knew that was a very bad sign.  If the wheezing was coming from him … well, that was an even worse sign.   He forced himself to concentrate on the sounds around him, and held his breath for as long as he could.  The wheeze continued, which meant someone else was having a problem.  With a soft sigh of relief he began to breathe again.

He wanted very badly to open his eyes, but needed all the strength he had left just to think.  He knew there was something important he needed to do or remember…

An image swam slowly into focus in his mind – blonde hair, laughing blue eyes … Johnny, a part of him whispered.

No, another part whispered, while the rest of him tried to remember who Johnny was.  No, it wasn’t Johnny.  Johnny was gone.  Irretrievably gone.  For a moment his heart ached with loss.  The ache grew more acute as the image became clearer.  Her face swam before his mind’s eye.  Andy.  She’d been his for a brief while. Such a very brief time, and so long ago.   He’d lost her, too, so long ago.  A lifetime ago. 

A lifetime of loss.  Everyone he’d loved, every life he touched more than briefly … all gone.  Only Alec remained.

Alec.  That was it!  He had to reach Alec.  Alec …………

But Alec was lost, too.  Lost to him, at any rate.  Somewhere far away … out of reach.  There must be a way to reach him …

But he would have to think about it later.  He was so very tired ….

With a soft, barely audible sigh, he slipped once more into the blessed oblivion of sleep.

 

**********  **********

            “ETT is approximately one mile from your present position, Colonel,” Keith Ford’s voice came calmly over the radio of the command mobile.  “It’s definitely slowing, and appears to be coming in to land in Sector Delta, Area Five."

            Alec ran his finger over a map of the area as he listened to Ford, nodding slightly as his finger came to rest in the area Ford designated as a possible landing site.  “Right, Lieutenant,” he answered, looking at Paul, who’d been listening along with him.  “Keep us posted on any changes.”

            Paul moved a little closer, taking a better look at the map.  “We have a couple of search teams in that area.”  He studied the map another moment.  “If we move the mobiles in through here, here and here…”  He indicated three narrow trails on the map.

            Alec nodded in agreement as Lt. Martinez entered the command mobile.  “Move them into position, Paul.”  He turned to Martinez.  “You have a report?”

            “Yes, sir,” Martinez answered.  “We think we have the alien cornered in some buildings not far from here.”  Martinez stepped forward and pointed at a section of the map.  “About here, sir.”

            Alec looked at the map, then looked grimly at Paul.  “Sector Delta, Area Five.”

 

**********  **********

 

She crept carefully down the slope, keeping as low as possible, following the nearly invisible tracks as they led into the tall grass covering the meadow.  Mac and Marty would probably never forgive her, she knew, but she had to do this.  Had to do it her own way.

Once before she’d sat idly by while he was lost.  She’d waited then, unable to do anything to help him.  She remembered well the feelings of frustration, helplessness and rage as she’d waited for someone to do something.  It had cost her dearly, her ranting and raving that “something must be done”, and “if no one else will, then I will, blast the bloody rules and regulations!”. All she had accomplished was to get herself tossed into the brig for insubordination, which hadn’t helped him at all.  In the end it had all worked out, of course.  But this time …

This time, she could do something and she was bloody well going to do it.  Mac and Marty wouldn’t understand.  Neither would Paul.  Alec would, although she knew he’d rather have her locked up somewhere.  It didn’t matter.  Straker was here and she was going to find him.  With or without help.  This time she was going to find him, and bring him back, no matter what.

A little more than halfway across the meadow, she paused a moment to get her bearings.  She knelt by the trail she was following, noting that the distance between the tracks she could see seemed to be getting shorter.  The alien must have been tiring by this point.  She leaned forward for a better look at the drag marks, and felt something stickily wet on the ground under her hand.  Looking down, she realized she had put her hand into a patch of blood.  She lifted her hand, staring at the blood sticking to her fingers.  Was this the alien’s blood or Straker’s, she wondered.

She sighed softly.  Was she wrong?  Was it possible that she wanted him to be there so badly that she was imagining things?  She trusted her instincts, true, and her instincts told her Straker and the alien were together, but … What if she was wrong?

She was still staring at the blood on her fingers, rubbing her thumb across them, smearing the blood, as a shadow passed over her.  A strange sound seeped into her awareness and she looked up at the sky.  If a storm came in and wiped out the trail….

What she saw froze her momentarily.  As she watched the UFO slow further, its trajectory obviously terminating at the buildings she was heading for, she stood slowly, her heart thumping loudly in her ears. 

“NO!”  She heard the shout distantly, as if it came from someone else.  But there was no one else here.  No one but the alien inside the buildings.  The sound must have come from her, but there was no time to debate that now.

She ran for the buildings.

 

Mac heard the distant shout as it echoed across the meadow and stopped short.  He was about a quarter of the way around the meadow from the point at which he had started.  Cheala should have been directly across from him, on the other side of the buildings.

He knelt down where he was, frowning in the direction of the buildings.  His blood ran cold as he saw the UFO settle to the earth near the open door of the middle building. Cheala was running headlong toward the open gate, and Mac suddenly realized she was unarmed.

With a muttered curse, he left the shelter of the trees and began making his way across the meadow.

 

**********  **********

 

Excruciating pain ripped him from the comfort of sleep as he was dragged to his feet.  The pain cut through the fog in his brain, leaving him more aware than he had been in some time.

The beeping sound had stopped, replaced by a high-pitched whine that came from somewhere far away.  The wheezing had not stopped, though, and he realized it was closer, coming from the person pulling him forward.

His companion dropped him unceremoniously by the corner of some machine, in what felt like a patch of warm sunlight.  Exhausted, he leaned back against the corner of the machine, its vibrations setting his teeth on edge and causing his head and shoulder to ache.  He held on to the pain, using it to at least temporarily hold back the shock he was experiencing, letting him concentrate on what was happening.

Gritting his teeth, he forced his eyes open.  He was inside some type of building, near a door to the outside.  Framed by the sunlight in the doorway was a man.  Though he couldn’t see the man clearly, he could see well enough to know the man was wearing a silvery jumpsuit.  The sight sent a thrill of fear down his spine.

He saw a bolt of light – a laser, something told him – shoot across from above and to the left of the doorway.  Almost immediately, he heard an explosion somewhere off to the right.  A second bolt of light followed seconds later.

The man – alien – yes, that was it.  The alien looked to the right, then limped out of the building and disappeared toward the left.  As soon as it was out of sight, he began trying to get up.  He knew he had to hide … had to get away …

It was no use.  He didn’t have enough strength to get up.  He’d have to do this the hard way.  He rolled to the side, away from the door.

Another laser bolt drew his attention momentarily.  The sound of the explosion as the bolt hit the ground somewhere out there was followed by a distant WHUMP.  A section of the parking lot just outside the doorway disintegrated, bits of asphalt and dirt even flying in through the door.

He was starting to roll further from the doorway when a body came flying in.  It rolled once, coming to rest just where he’d been sitting a moment earlier.

 

**********  **********

 

She was more than three quarters of the way across the meadow when the UFO settled to the ground.  Adrenaline pumping, she ran as fast as she could for the buildings, even though the aliens were now between her and the door.

The first laser shot from the UFO struck the ground about 5 yards behind her.  She dove forward and rolled to one side as dirt rained down around her.  She rolled back to her feet and continued her dash toward the buildings, darting through the open gates as the second shot from the UFO cratered the ground less than a yard behind her.

She saw the alien limp out of the building and head toward the UFO.  She raced for the doorway, expecting to become a smoking pile of ash at any moment.  The third shot from the UFO arced over her head, however, apparently aimed at the trees toward her left.  The answering WHUMP told her what had drawn the aliens’ attention from her.  She ducked as the SHADO missile exploded in front of her, then dove through the doorway, rolling to a stop against the corner of a machine inside.

For a moment, dazed, she lay still, catching her breath.  Movement nearby caught her eye.  She shook her head and pushed herself up to a sitting position, looking closely at the area of movement.  Her heart soared in elation -- he was here!  She’d been right all along!

Another explosion outside, too near the door for comfort, told her she needed to get him out of here – fast.  The mobile – it had to be a SHADO mobile out there trading shots with the UFO – was homing in on the alien craft, true.  But the UFO was sitting right next to the building she and Straker were in.  Too close.   Much too close.

She pushed herself to her feet, stepped closer to him, reached down and pulled him to his feet, slipping his arm around her shoulder.  Supporting most of his weight, she half-dragged him toward the back of the building.  A loud explosion outside told her something had been destroyed, and since the building seemed to be still standing, she figured it wasn’t the UFO.

“Come on, guys,” she muttered softly, still dragging him toward the back of the building, and hoping there was a back door.  “Take it out.”  She knew the explosion meant someone had died – most likely friends of hers – but there was no time to wonder about who.

There it was!  Andy’s luck was holding … there was a back door to this building, and it was just a few feet away.  At a sound behind them, she risked a quick look over her shoulder.  An alien was just coming through the front door, alien equivalent of a rifle in its gloved hands.

Straker was weakening, though he’d not been very strong when she pulled him to his feet.  She knew she had to get him through that back door and under cover before the alien spotted them.  She turned back to the door to safety, trying to get him to move a little faster.  Straker sagged weakly against her, barely conscious, totally dependent on her.

Two more steps and she froze.  The back door was opening from the outside.

 

**********  **********

 

Alec stepped out of the command mobile just as the UFO’s laser shot found its target and Mobile Three exploded.  He and Paul, coming out just behind him, both ducked instinctively, even though Three was on the other side of the clearing from their position.

Alec straightened and raised the field glasses he was holding.  He quickly scanned the perimeter of the meadow, noting that Mobiles Two and One were just moving into position.  One would be a few seconds ahead of Two, and should be in the better position to take out the UFO.

“Lts. O’Brien and Maczinski are out there somewhere, sir,” Martinez said quietly.  He, too, had just emerged from the command mobile and was scanning the meadow for signs of his companions.  “Actually, Cheala should be somewhere around here.  She was supposed to be circling the meadow on this side, looking for a better way to approach the buildings.”

“We’ll keep an eye out for them, Lieutenant,” Alec answered absently.  He was scanning the area around the buildings, looking for any signs of life.  A patch of brilliant red caught his attention, and he focused the glasses on the alien just disappearing into the building.

Sounds of gunfire erupted briefly from inside the building.  Alec stepped forward, futilely willing the walls to become transparent so he could see through them.  Not unexpectedly, however, the walls refused to cooperate, leaving him glaring in frustration. 

A distant WHUMP signaled that Mobile One had reached its assigned position not far from the remains of Three.  As Alec slowly lowered the glasses, One’s missile found its target.  The UFO exploded into smoke and flame, taking an undetermined portion of the building with it.

 

**********  **********

 

She took another quick glance over her shoulder and cursed softly.  The alien had seen them and was headed in their direction.  She dragged Straker toward the opening door, determined to get him out of here, even if she had to go through a dozen aliens to do it.

With a growl of defiance, she braced herself on one foot and used the other to kick the door the rest of the way open.  It narrowly missed hitting Mac, who was standing not quite far enough to one side.

“Mac!”   She pulled Straker forward.  “We’ve got to get … “

Mac’s eyes widened in shock as she felt something rip through her body in several places.  There was no pain … not yet.  When it came, she knew it would be unbearable.  With a determined push, she shoved the limp Straker into Mac’s arms, grabbing for Mac’s rifle and pulling it out of his hands. 

“Get him out of here, Mac,” she yelled, turning and bringing up the rifle even as she fell to one knee.  She managed one shot at the alien, then the world exploded.

 

**********  **********

 

Two days later,  Mayland Hospital ………

 

“The building was pretty much destroyed,” Alec was saying.  He wasn’t sure he had Straker’s attention, but knew that, if he did, Straker would want the details.  “Most of it disintegrated when the UFO exploded.”

“What about Andy?” Straker asked hoarsely.  She’d been on his mind a lot the last couple of days.

Alec hesitated before answering.  “She was right, I’ll give her that.  I don’t know how she knew it, but she knew you were with that alien.”

“You’ve already told me that, Alec.”  Straker slowly, finally, turned his head to look at Alec.  His piercing blue eyes showed he was more alert than he appeared.

Alec sighed.  He’d hoped to be able to put this off a little longer, till Straker was stronger.  “The last time anyone saw her, she was still inside the building.”  He paused a moment, watching the pain creep into those eyes.  “I’m sorry, Ed.  There’s no way she could have made it out.”

“You’re sure?”  Straker’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

Alec hesitated again.  He still had search crews going through the rubble, but didn’t expect to find anything.  Should he tell Straker that?  Let him entertain a false hope that she’d be found?  Finally, he nodded, his decision made.  “We’re sure.  She’s gone, Ed.”

He watched as Straker gave a short, slow nod, his gaze sliding away from Alec.  He watched Straker let his head fall back onto the pillows, staring at nothing.  He made a couple of attempts to continue the conversation, then silently turned and walked out, leaving his friend to deal with the pain of losing her once again.

 

**********  **********

 

Finis

Last Updated by the evil j on 10/13/2000.

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