“Go! For fucks sake get me out of here,” Fitch screamed at the pilot.
The rats leaped off the ice like lemmings over a cliff. One made contact and dug its claws into Fitch’s leg. Fitch screamed and kicked at it with his other foot, pounding its head until it released its grip and splashed into the cold sea. As Fitch began to rise to safety, he slipped the rifle from his shoulder and fired at the leaping rats, though unless they sprouted wings they had no chance of reaching him now. Their blood sprayed the ice.
Realizing their prey was beyond their grasp, some turned on the dead and wounded while others retreated back to the hangar in the hope of feasting on some leftovers.
The shocked men in the control room stared at Alpha Team’s corpses being devoured by the Alien Rats in the drone’s camera feed and the gruesome close-ups from the dead men’s cameras that were still operational.
“Damn!” cursed Thomson. “Prepare another team. Warn them about the rats and send them in. I want that technology and by God I’m going to get it if I have to sacrifice every man aboard this ship.”
His eyes fell on Mason who stared at the horror depicted on the screens. Cannon fodder sprung to mind. “Mason. You Brits wanted involvement. Here’s your chance. Six of your men can join the next team to go in.”
Mason dragged his eyes away from the massacre and glanced at the Rear Admiral. “I’ll arrange it.”
CHAPTER 3
Publicity
RICHARD STUDIED THE steadily increasing expressions of amazement that appeared on the publicity consultant’s face as he flicked through the photographs of the alien spaceship and its ferocious inhabitants. Richard had done his homework. Clinton Smythe was the best in the business and would ensure he received the rich rewards he wanted for his story.
Stunned by what he had just viewed, Clinton placed the last photo on his expansive mahogany desk and looked at the man who had presented them. “This is incredible. I can hardly believe it’s real.”
“Trust me, it’s real. I lived through the nightmare.”
Clinton glanced at the photographs spread out before him, calculating their worth and their validity. “But what happened to the spaceship?”
“It’s still entombed in the iceberg. As we speak, a salvage operation is underway to save as much of its technology as possible before it slips beneath the sea.”
Clinton shook his head in astonishment. It all seemed too fantastical to be true. “As I said, Richard, it’s an incredible story. However, our problem is—even with these astounding photos—getting people to believe it. If you’d managed to get some physical evidence there would’ve been no problem and no limit to the amount you could have made from this fantastical tale.”
Richard smiled, slipped a hand into his inside jacket pocket and pulled something out. “Is this evidence enough?”
Clinton’s bushy eyebrows almost disappeared over the top of his head at the sight of the tiny creature covered in green velvet fur cupped in Richard’s hand. He moved in closer for a better look. It had two small horns on its head, a black nose and large eyes that currently stared at him. It looked more like a cuddly children’s toy than an alien creature. He sorted through the photographs and selected the one of Haax holding Lucifer and compared the two. “Is this the same one, as it looks bigger in the photo?”
Richard shook his head. “Not exactly. The one in the photo is the creature that saved my life and which I rescued from the spaceship. This is its offspring, which I’ve temporarily named Little Lucifer. When I handed its mother back, if indeed there is a male and female of this species, I later found this one in my pocket, which was much smaller then. I believe this species might be asexual. I did some research and we have quite a few Earth life-forms with this ability, sometimes triggered during a decrease in its species resulting in a lack of males. But, of course, I could be totally wrong. What’s important is that in my hand I have absolute evidence that alien life forms exist and have visited Earth. What I want you to do, Clinton, is market this alien, my photos and story—and me, of course—in a way that will make me millions before the government and scientists take Little Lucifer from me, as they surely will when they learn of its existence. I want a book deal. I want to sell the movie rights and I want anything else you can think of to wring money out of this. Can you do that, Clinton, or do I need to look elsewhere for someone who can?”
Clinton dragged his eyes away from the cute creature and looked at Richard. He smiled and held out his hand. “I assure you, Richard, I’ll make you so much money you’ll have trouble spending it.”
Richard shook the offered hand. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” He stroked Little Lucifer while Clinton pressed a button on the intercom and spoke to his secretary.
“Kim, cancel all my appointments for the next month…yes, you heard correctly, the whole month…I don’t care, tell her to find someone else, and send Matt in, I need a contract drawn up.” He released the button and shared his greedy smile between Richard and the little alien. “You, Richard, have just become my most important client and, I believe, will soon prove to be my most profitable.”
Richard grinned. He tickled Little Lucifer under the chin. It purred in delight from the attention. “The kids are going to love you.”
Worried that the news of the spaceship story might leak out and ruin them of an exclusive deal, Clinton Smythe wasted no time selling the story to the highest bidder. Two days later, Richard’s money-making machine was set in motion and news of what had been discovered in Antarctica swept around the world.
Jane sat up in bed when Jack entered with a breakfast tray. He placed it on a side table, picked up the newspaper and handed it to Jane. “You’re not going to believe the headlines.”
Slightly bleary eyed, Jane looked at the front page. In large bold letters the headline read:
Jane shook her head in dismay. “So much for keeping the story under wraps as we were directed. That man would make money out of misery if he could. ‘Battled with aliens to save his friends and the planet!’ I’ve a good mind to tell my version of what really happened.”
“What’s the point? Richard’s not my favorite person, but we all played our part. Let him have his five minutes. Now the genie’s been let out of the bottle I’m sure your time will come if you want it. Also Theo, Scott and Pike will get to tell their story now.” Jack leaned forward and kissed her.
Jane placed the newspaper on the bedside table. “You’re right. We have more important and pleasurable things to occupy our time.” She glanced at the tray. “How about you come to bed and help me work up an appetite for breakfast.”
“Your wish is my command.” Jack slipped into bed.
CHAPTER 4