Christopher McNeely stood, almost as did everyone in the confined space of the Mission Control operations center (in total silence). Not that long ago, McNeely spoke what may have been his lasts words to the two-man crew of the DESPERADO, acknowledging the firing of the reaction jets that righted the command module just before the actual reentry, turning the heat shields towards the Earth and taking the brunt of the five thousand plus degrees of Centigrade heat that the tiny capsule would encounter as it tore a flaming hole in the planet’s unforgiving atmosphere.
Now, there was nothing anyone could do but wait, and hope that the shield had retained its integrity, fully protecting the astronauts from a fiery demise. He knew all the other Apollo missions he’d say in on, that this was the most dangerous part of the entire mission. More so than the launch, and landing on the moon’s dark half….if something should go wrong here during this stage of the game, there would be nothing anybody could do about it, not Mission Control, and not the astronauts inside the burning capsule. And worse yet, no one would even know if there was a problem because of the maddening loss of radio contact during the entire drop period. Only after the chutes deployed, followed a second or two later by the main parachutes helping to slow the ship’s descent to a safe twenty-five miles an hour, would they know anything…assuming the heat shield worked and the chutes did deploy, and DESPERADO didn’t slam into the Atlantic Ocean at a horrifying speed that would destroy the capsule and kill the crew instantly.
McNeely’s hands gripped the top of his computer console as he hung his head at the thought.
“Chris.”
The voice shattered his thoughts like a glass and he brought his head up to see who was speaking. It was Dooley, standing there with a lit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth and bringing up a Styrofoam cup with steaming hot coffee in it.
“Have your joe, chief, black and three sugars, just like you asked.”
Obligingly, McNeely took the warm cup from his friend and immediately brought it up to his lips to take a drink.
“Thanks, Dave.”
Dooley shrugged and adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses, trying to keep them from again sliding off his sweaty nose…which they did anyway. “I would’ve got you a donut,” he said. “But Eggleston and McPhee grabbed up the last of them before I got there.”
Taking a sizable sip from the cup, the crew-chief set the cup down on the console, noticing that the front monitor was on again, this time showing an empty blue sky as cameras pumped in the pictures from the U.S.S. Hornet out in the Atlantic, where he knew Coley and her entourage were, like them, waiting for signs of the DESPERADO’s survival.
“Thanks, anyway,” he said. “But after today it won’t matter…we’ll all be back home, and I can enjoy my wife’s cooking again instead of the cafeteria food here which I have grown to considerably loathe over the past several days.”
Dooley grabbed the cigarette from his mouth as he sucked from the filtered end, taking in the nicotine rush and quickly expelling the smoke in a stream of gray, turning around to head back to his station. “Least you got a wife,” he muttered under his breath, walking away. “Later, man.”
“Yeah, see you later,” McNeely said.
With Dooley gone, his thoughts again returned to the mission. He looked at his watch a little worriedly, realizing that several minutes had already passed since the initial loss of signal. Looking over at one of his fellow controllers, McNeely gave the signal, a, nod, that indicated the time had come to attempt to reestablish contact. He eyed the television screen, feeling that something was wrong. They should at least see a picture of the capsule by now.
“DESPERADO,” the man spoke into his headset. “This is Houston. Do you copy? Over.”
Everyone listened in on the open channel as only static filled the air. The controller tried again.
“DESPERADO…This is Houston…Do you read? Over.”
A few more seconds of irritating static played out until there was that familiar beep and Hollanbach’s voice echoed over the speakers.
“Houston, DESPERADO…I read you loud and clear!”
A wave of relief washed over everyone in the room except for McNeely who stood staring in disbelief at the empty screen. “Smitty,” he called over to another controller. “Get on the horn and ask the Hornet if they see the capsule. Something could be wrong with the camera”
Smitty swiveled around in his seat and looked at his crew chief. “I already did, Mac, and they have no visual whatever. Nobody’s seen anything.”
“DESPERADO. This is Houston. We can’t seem to find you visually at the moment,” he laughed nervously. “So could you guys activate your locator beacon,” he asked, referring to the emergency device that emitted a constant radio frequency pulse that would enable an accurate recovery.
Hollanbach quickly answered. “Roger that, Houston. The beacon is active. Anything else?”
McNeely sat down in his seat and sighed, yeah, he thought dejectedly. Tell me where the hell you are.
* * *
“I have them, sir!”
Hearing those words, the combat systems officer aboard the Hornet turned and ran to the petty officer sitting at the radar watch station, monitoring the new blip on the screen.
“Where?”
“Fifty seven miles due west of us, sir.”
The radio operator hollered suddenly from further into the bowels of the ship’s C.I.C. room. “Commander! I have their beacon! Signal originates from seventy-two point six degrees latitude, thirty-three point degrees longitude!”
The CSO gazed down into the monochromes green screen he was looking at. “That’s it!” he said excitedly, placing his hand on the shoulder of the young sailor below him.
“Good work, son. Inform the helicopter of your findings.”
Standing up, the commander turned and faced the lieutenant that had been looking over his shoulder. “Keep monitoring that signal…on radio and on the radar. I’m going up on the bridge to update the skipper,” he said as he patted the lieutenant on the back and walked away, heading for the water tight door leading from the compartment. “You’re in charge, Lieutenant.”
“Aye, Sir.”
Opening the door, the commander was surprised to see the coverall rear end of a woman running back up the ladder back to the bridge, and was even more surprised to encounter another one, intensely beautiful and brunette with piercing green eyes and sensuous red lips, walking hurriedly up the landing, stopping hesitantly as they locked eyes.
“Excuse me, Sir,” she said in an exasperated voice. “But I need to get through.”
He flashed her his best smile. “Miss. Coley, I presume?”
“Yeah,” she said nodding, waiting for him to move.
He thrust his hand out. “I’m the Combat Systems Officer. Commander-”
“Agent Coley.”
Both their eyes shot up the ascending stairwell to see a man in complete Air Force officer’s attire, crouching down and smiling at them, his twin silver stars shining in the red light of the thruway. It was Mayson.
“The captain requests your presence on the bridge immediately, ma’am,” he said as he tipped his head at the naval officer. “Commander.”
He promptly saluted his superior. “General.”
Coley tried to hide her grin as she climbed up the ladder back, brushing past her beau, feeling his hand deftly rub against her rear. Together, they walked just outside the door as the commander bounded up the steps, looking quizzically at the two of them, and entered into the bridge. Closing the door behind the commander, Mayson pushed her up into the bulkhead and kissed her, surprising her completely with the suddenness of it, nearly taking her breath away as his lips pounced onto hers. They lingered for only a few seconds before he broke free, gazing at her wide eyes staring unbelievably at him. He smiled devilishly at her.
“What?” she gasped, trying to breathe normally again. “What was that for?” she asked as she watched him grip the level and begin to open the hatch.
“A reminder,” he said simply, opening the door all the way and stepping through it, leaving it open for her to follow.
Standing there for a second, Coley straightened her disarrayed hair before walking into the waiting bridge, realizing that she had just seen the one thing she’d been waiting for yet hadn’t been expecting.
JEALOUSLY.
Smiling, Mary Ellen carefully stepped through the doorway and onto the blue-tiled floor of the carrier’s bridge. Maybe there was hope for the old man after all, she thought.
Just maybe.
* * *
In about an hour, it was all over. The helicopter crew found them and retrieved both astronauts from the charred remains of their space craft, taking them back along the rough and choppy path to land safely on the deck of the Hornet. Hollanbach and Herndum both were weak from their time in zero gravity, muscles and bone atrophy enough to cause them to require help out of the chopper and across the deck into the ship. A disorienting feeling for both of the men, but one they were in fact expecting and knew soon would pass, given a good amount of rest and food to help bring their bodies back to suitable Earth operating level.
Unlike the earlier Apollo crews, the commander and the lieutenant were quarantined for only a brief time, only a few hours after medics tended to them and the ships cooks ushered them with a delectable meal of steak and potatoes.
If it hadn’t been for Hollanbach’s exposure to unknown elements aboard the alien spacecraft, it was doubtful quarantine would have been in place at all, but the necessary precautions had to be followed, regardless of the time it took, in order to ensure everyone’s safety. But that didn’t mean activities had to necessarily come to a halt. Coley, Mayson, and Sternenko were quick to visit the isolated astronauts. The hangar bay inside the carrier had been evacuated of nearly all personnel, except for a few key Marine guards, posted in full battledress at every entrance and exit, as the entourage approached the quarantine cubicle. Both men sat on stools in front the plexiglassed compartment that sealed them off from the rest of the world. Coley smiled as she approached them.
“Commander Hollanbach, Lieutenant Herndum,” she said in a cheerful tone. “It’s good to see you again. How are you feeling?”
“A little fatigued and weak,” Hollanbach answered. “But that’ll pass soon with a little rest,” he said as he looked beyond Coley and Mayson, noticing the bear of a Soviet general behind them. “I see you brought visitors.”
“This is General Sternenko,” she said as she half-turned and introduced the stony-faced Russian. “He’s been dispatched here on behalf of Mr. Brezhnev to cover the details of the mission’s findings, and you already know General Mayson,” she said as he waved hello.
Both astronauts were surprised when Sternenko saluted them with sharp movement. “I have seen the flight suit you brought back with you,” he said, speaking haltingly with his accented English. “My son’s,” his voice seemed ready to break, but the general remained visually unemotional, jaw set with seriousness as his gaze, concentrated on the commander, his icy blue eyes reaching beyond the Plexiglas, and touching Hollanbach’s soul. As practiced as Sternenko may have been, Hollanbach could still see the pain of loss in that stare. And he felt sorry for the burly Russian. “Tell me, Commander,” he said rigidly. “Did you see his body?”
Herndum looked over at his buddy, watching him shift uncomfortably on the stool, scratching at the short blonde hair on the back of his head, looking down from the general’s gaze, hardly wanting to answer the man’s question. Justas it appeared that Hollanbach might say something, Coley stepped in, seeing the astronaut’s hesitance and knowing why.
“General Sternenko,” she said quietly, standing beside him. “I realize your need to know, but these men have been through tremendous amount of physical and mental-”
“Agent Coley,” he said, not even looking at her, instead still staring at Hollanbach. “With all due respect, I do not give a damn-as you Americans say-about what these men have been through. I came here to find out the truth of this mission.” And then he turned his piercing gaze on her. “I only ask one question. If these men have been to an alien ship, and saw my son’s dead body…no matter its condition. Then I want to know about it,” he told her. “NOW.”
Coley’s green eyes narrowed at the man’s tone, and while she didn’t care for it one bit, she understood the man’s request. She already knew that Reese and Hollanbach had seen, having imagined a grisly picture from the horrible details she’d heard Herndum describe over the radio waves, and despite the general’s machismo, she wasn’t entirely too sure if he really wanted to hear it. But that didn’t quite matter anymore, now that he’d given her an attitude. And if there was one thing Mary Ellen didn’t like to have shoved in her face, it was attitude.
“Very well, General. I was hoping to maybe spare you the pain of the details,” she said, looking at him just as intensely. “But if its details you want,” she said as she glanced over at the waiting Hollanbach. “Go ahead, Commander. Tell him what he wants to know.”
With a heavy breath, Hollanbach swallowed hard and recounted his discovery of the general’s son, lying twisted and gnarled in a frozen pool of his own blood beside the dead body of the much larger alien. Oddly enough, Hollanbach could feel his voice shake in tandem with certain muscles in his chest as they jumped nervously, the picture still razor sharp in his mind as he told it. When he finished, Hollanbach felt the strange need to look away and bite down on his lip until the faintest taste of blood entered into his mouth. It was rare for him to feel so strongly…so damned emotional about anything, but despite the fact that he was actually there, it was if he was seeing it again for the first time.
Perhaps reliving the experience through the general’s eyes, wondering how he envisioned Hollanbach’s descriptive words, and what his mind, as a long worried father who had wished vainly for his son’s triumphant return, was going through. He felt Herndum place his hand tenderly on his shoulder, and his voice telling him that it was okay, trying to help him through the horror he was seeing again.
But even as the commander defiantly shrugged it off, reclaiming his persona of the cool and collective rocket jockey, not far from that surface was the man who knew it was not okay, and very far from it perhaps, for the man they felt they had to leave behind. That’s when he looked up and saw the Russian’s pale face, a much different look upon it this time, one that closely paralleled a harrowing blend of confusion and sadness.
“I’m…I’m sorry, Sir. I wish I hadn’t told you,” he said as he watched Sternenko gradually find his usual scowl, and looked up at the commander, then at Coley.
“I would like a moment or two alone, perhaps on the deck outside,” he said quietly.
Coley nodded her head in understanding. “Of course,” she said as she turned to look at Mayson.
“Yeah,” he said in a low voice, smiling at her. “I’ll go with him.”
As the men departed, Coley faced her astronauts.
“The doc wants the two of you in here for at least another half hour. But other than that, there seems to be no problem…medically,” she told them. “And you already know we’ve got the cosmonaut’s flight suit and your helmet, Commander, already dusted and cleaned of foreign elements. The particles have been bagged and will be sent to Washington for further study. The suit, I’m afraid goes back to Moscow,” she sighed. “The film in your helmet is being respooled as we speak, ready to be viewed in the briefing room by us all once you get evicted out of there,” she said as she looked at them. “Any questions?”
Herndum shook his head, unusually quiet considering his cheerful and quite talkative nature. But Hollanbach was dying to ask one question that had been on his mind for days. “Are the Soviet’s going to help get Reese back?”
“Sternenko will want to see the videotape from your helmet cam, but I’m pretty positive the mission is a go in his mind right now. If only to try and bring his son’s body home.”
“Well there isn’t much time, Agent Coley,” the commander stressed. “Reese had enough of our air to last maybe three days. And it’s already been that. Also assuming the Soviets had the oxygen Reese believed he saw in there and assuming that it still worked…he might make it another four…maybe five days at best,” he told her. “Assuming he doesn’t make any more EVA’s.”
Coley looked at him questionably.
“You don’t know Reese like I do. I saw just how excited and gung-ho he was when we were walking around up there. He could hardly wait to make the next bend, encounter the next discovery. If I know the captain like I think I do, then he’s probably up there right now, in full gear, walking around like he owns the place, using up precious breathing time, especially considering the fact that he has no idea there’s an attempt to rescue him.”
“Dammit,” she said flustered. “This is not what I wanted to hear, Commander! Do you really believe he’d do something stupid like that?” He quickly gave the intelligence agent a knowing smile.
“Stupid?” he asked as he shook his head and smiled.
“No, Reese would never do anything stupid like that. But he might,” and Hollanbach’s eyes lit up with admiration when he said this. “He just might do something brave like that.”
Coley closed her eyes and felt like pulling her hair and screaming. Why was it that men had such a difficult time telling the difference between bravery and stupidity? Opening her eyes, she lightly rubbed at the side of her neck, where after nearly another twelve hours of no rest or sleep, aching again.
“If that’s the case gentlemen, we don’t have as much time as I had hoped. Consider your quarantine over and get yourselves out of there on the double,” she said, quickly walking from them.
“Hey!” Hollanbach yelled. “Where are you going?”
“To get the generals,” she hollered over her shoulder. “We have a lot of debriefing to do, and we have to do it now!”
Or Reese, she thought as they threw the dog lever to open up the watertight door, is just as good as a dead man.
* * *
The room was small, filled with a few rows of metal fold-up chairs with side swiveling platform desktops. The walls were emblazoned with the bright colors of the Hornet’s fighting squadrons and their symbols, wrapping around until they met at the head of the compartment, where the wooden podium that was replaced by a television set strapped onto a metal rolling stand with a large and bulky new machine under it which was the device that would play Hollanbach’s tape, transfer the captured images on film, and put them into motion on screen.
They were all there, Hollanbach and Herndum, Coley, Mayson and Sternenko, alone in the briefing room where it had already gotten off to a rocky start with the Russian’s insentience in taking charge of the proceedings from Coley, and asking questions pertaining to the cosmonauts and his son. But Coley, was having none of that, instead pumped the astronauts (Hollanbach really) for every memory they had of the mission, start-to-finish. From the moment that the UNFORGIVEN separated from the DESPERADO, to its impact with the meteorite and the landing soon after, the boarding of the massive alien ship and the several dead gray alien bodies he and Reese encountered as they explored what they could of the sip, as well as the gruesome discovery of the Vostok and lunar lander, the expedition and findings on the bridge, to Reese’s decision to stay behind on the moon…Hollanbach relived everything as he told it, watching the television screen as he spoke, in effect, acting as a soundtrack to a silent movie shot entirely on its exclusive location, just west of the Cremona crater on the darkened far side of the moon.
He managed to sum up two days of mind-blowing events into a forty-one minute dialogue as the film fast forwarded through most of its three and a half hours (only stopping to play through the most intriguing parts) served as a very sobering illustration. As he spoke, he watched the expressions of those in the room, particularly Sternenko’s, listening to Hollanbach’s voice as their filled with images from the videotape. Everyone was aghast with the visualization of the eviscerated cosmonauts and what was left of their chewed remains. With urgency, there came an added sensation of loss in the room, of innocence lost in the way when a child sees the world and its happenings for the first time through adult eyes and realizes that it is not, and never will be will be, all about him. Before them all was indisputable proof of life elsewhere among the stars, savage, brutal, and dangerously close life.
But it was still life nonetheless. The only question now was whether to marvel at such a find, or to cower in fear of it. Finished, Hollanbach’s eyes shot over to the general. It seemed there was something the commander wanted to know.
“What’s the word, General?” he asked, looking right at Sternenko. “Will you help us to rescue Reese or not?”
The briefing room fell silent for a few short moments as everybody turned to see what the Russian’s answer would be. Looking away from the images still playing on the television, the general grunted loudly and gave Hollanbach his answer.
“The mission,” he said pausing slightly as he let go of a heavy breath. “Is a ‘GO’,” he said getting up, as he walked a few steps towards Coley and looked down at her. “I will need to gain access to a radio system,” he said. “Moscow is awaiting my decision and now that I have reached one, I must relay it. There is a ship of ours nearby to which I can broadcast the word, which can then complete the link to Moscow.”
Coley stood up. “Then what happens after that?”
Sternenko smiled at her. “We launch, of course. All I need are the landing coordinates from Commander Hollanbach and all is good. Already there are cosmonauts ready to fly. The rocket waits for us on the launch pad, everything is ready,” he said coolly. He turned to Hollanbach taking out a pen and piece of paper. “The coordinates, Commander, please.”
Hollanbach looked first at Coley, then at Sternenko. “I’ll give them to the crew myself,” he said. “Once I board the rocket.”
Sternenko broke out in a sudden, insulting laughter. “Board the rocket?” he repeated, still bellowing with laughter. “This is a Soviet operation, Commander Hollanbach. The roster is full. There is no place for you on this mission, even if the politics of our respective countries would allow such a thing to come to pass.”
But the commander wasn’t about to give up so easily.
“I don’t believe you understand, General. I need to go back there with you. I left Reese up there, for Christ sake! I need to be the one to help get him back!”
Sternenko shook his head. “I am sorry, Commander. But if it is redemption you seek, you will not find it on my rocket ship.”
“I don’t believe this was part of the deal between the President and your Premier,” Coley cut in, angrily.
“Deal?” Sternenko challenged. “There is no deal!! Your President asked us to right a wrong you created. And we will. But without your help,” he said as he walked down the path that divided the rows of chairs into half. “I believe you Americans have created enough of a mess of this as it is, yes?”
Just as he passed by Mayson, Coley couldn’t hold it back anymore, and she let Sternenko, who had been nothing but hard to get along with since the minute of his arrival, have it.
“Stop!” she yelled at him. “You can just stop yourself right there, General!”
He did, slowly turning around with a look of smugness still on his face.
“How dare you,” Coley said at him. “How dare you pull this kind of…bullshit…when a man’s life hangs in the balance? Do you very well think I’m stupid? Do you honestly believe that we will let you set off on this mission without an American presence of some kind with you, to ensure that you do in fact save Captain Reese’s life, instead of killing him and salvaging as much alien technology as your ships will hold to bring back to Earth and use for your own advantage? Get real, General. That is not the plan, nor will it EVER be.”
As she talked, she slowly walked closer and closer to him until she stood only a few delicate feet from the highly decorated soldier as her companions watched in surprised disbelief there in the room with her.
“NO,” she said. “The commander goes or no one does. You need him to get there. Even you can’t deny that.”
He nodded his big head, still smiling at her.
“You are wrong, Special Agent Coley. Not only do we have orbiting satellites that have already pinpointed this fallen alien spacecraft, but we have been trying to get there to explore it ourselves for weeks. It is only sheer luck you beat us to it,” he said with a wide grin. “Yes, we will rescue your stranded captain and bring him back to you because you cannot. On that you have my word. But your commander does not go. In that, I am afraid you have no choice.” he said to her.
Everyone, including Sternenko, believed the conversation to be over. But Coley surprised them all once again, cracking a knowing smile and putting her hands on her slim hips, and again taking charge of the situation.
“You forget, General Sternenko, that like you…I have been appointed by own president to act in the best interests of my country concerning the outcome of this mission. And believe me when I tell you that if you continue to deny Commander Hollanbach passage on board your rocketship the United States, I’m sure, will interpret the launch as a threat to our own national security, and will systematically take out your ship and everything capable of launching or producing a rocket for as long as we have the planes, missiles, and bombs to do it with.”
Then she spoke over her shoulder at a nervous, but outwardly calm Mayson, who n had since risen and stood silently behind her. “Am I right in making that assumption, General Mayson?”
“I believe you are,” he answered her without hesitation.
Sternenko, whose smugness had quickly vanished, now looked at both of them with outrage and disbelief, not quite sure he had heard what he thought he had. “You realize you have just threatened the Soviet Union with war?” he said with a nervous breath. “Do you understand the implications of this?”
Coley took a step closer to him.
“I do. And the President will back me on this one hundred percent. All you have to do is take the commander with you, and this will all be forgotten.”
“Water under the bridge, so to speak,” Mayson added.
The Russian was quiet a few seconds, thinking over his next move now that these damned Americans had called his bluff. But he knew there really wasn’t any decision to mull over. They had just made it for him. In truth, he half-doubted the American President would back the agent’s bold claim, but he only half-doubted. It was a chance he did not want to take.
“Very well,” he conceded. “The commander will go. But only as an advisor and guide. He will have no rank or command over my men.”
“The same for your men concerning him?” she smiled.
“If you must, then yes, of course.”
“Then we have a deal. General Mayson will escort you to the bridge so that you may dispatch communications with your ship and we can get this thing off the ground.” Mayson squeezed by her and together with Sternenko began to exit the briefing room. “Thank you, General.” Both men turned around expectedly. “Both of you.”
As the door shut behind them, Coley turned quickly to Hollanbach, flashing him the biggest smile he’d ever seen on her. “Now with that out of the way, I have someone I believe you’d like to see, Commander.”
THE ANSWER? 