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 (Ebook) Junkyard Spaceship - Junkyard Pirate 03 by Jamie
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JUNKYARD SPACESHIP

JAMIE MCFARLANE

FICKLE DRAGON PUBLISHING LLC

 CONTENTS

Preface

. Brother’s Arms
ay

No Patriot
fL

Whackin' Patties
fF P

Spooks
SpA

Pyrrhic Victory
nw

Sense of Duty
Rocket Man
Rerouted
. Going Ballistic
. Maxillary, Paxillary
fo)
ay

11. Eloquence
12. Hairless Apes
13. Language of Beer
14. Fight to Survive
15. A Way Out
16. Truth and Consequence
17. Familia
18. Trojans
19. Friend of my Enemy
20. Check the Tapes
21. Hunting Princesses
22. Re-upped
23. One Way Forward
24. Twist
25. Mad Science
26. First Class
27. Summit
28. Ninety Seconds
29. Pigin a Poke
30. Royal Pain
Epilogue

About the Author

Acknowledgments
Also by Jamie McFarlane
 PREFACE

Life of a Miner

Fen OLIVE
a.
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 ONE

BROTHER’S ARMS

Albert Jenkins shielded his eyes from the sun’s

glare and followed the smoking contrail of a failing
alien vessel as it sailed across the cobalt blue of the
Tucson afternoon sky. Dual explosive reports from
twin F-16s hot on the ship’s trail rattled the win-
dows of his newly constructed home.
“Is that an enemy?” Diego, AJ’s thirteen-year-
old neighbor, asked innocently. “Is it attacking us?”
Beverly, AJ’s symbiotic four-hundred-nanome-
ter-long alien passenger and a Beltigersk, chose
that moment to appear. Her current form was that
of a woman from the late nineteen twenties with
light brown hair of whimsical length and cut. A
big fan of pop culture and history, she’d made a
game of choosing a historical character to see if
AJ would correctly guess who she was. Her efforts
often fell flat, but she was tireless in the endeavor.
“Ratty old cotton flight suit with a leather flight
jacket? Heck, you even got the hair right,” he said,
giving her a onceover. “Amelia Earhart. You’re
gonna need to up your game.”
“That is a Vred shuttle, Diego.” Beverly an-
swered the boy’s question while grinning at his ac-
knowledgment. “The shuttle is in distress and has
not answered repeated communication attempts.”
“Looks like Air National Guard is on the job,” AJ
said. “Hope it’s not someone we know.”
Doctor Amanda Jayne slapped the back of her
hand against his chest. “Don’t be dumb, AJ. What
are the odds of a Vred shuttle flying over Tucson in
plain sight?”
“Shit, the Guard’s firing.” He watched a single
missile detach from one of the pursuing F-16s.
The sound of explosive detonation filled the air.
Instinctively, he pulled her to the ground, placing
his own body between her body and the far-off
explosion.
“Why would they fire?” she asked, her voice
muffled as she clung to AJ’s shirt. “And why are we
ducking? They’ve got to be a couple miles out.”
He pulled her back to her feet. “Diego, we’ve
got to move.” Shuttling both toward the machine
shop some thirty yards away, he turned to whistle
loudly. “Greybeard, come!”
The three ran through the open door of the
metal-clad shed, then he led them through the
back door into the junkyard to a pile of old refriger-
ators. In the midst of the junk, a steel door was set
into a column of concrete.
“AJ, you’re scaring me,” Jayne said, as she
hurried through the door and down the darkened
stairs.
“That Vred ship was circling back to us. We’re
in the line of fire. Greybeard, get over here, you
mangy mutt!”
The last comment sparked an irritated bark
from the grey bulldog who’d successfully bonded
with another of the symbiotic nano-meter-size
aliens. When communicating with Greybeard, it
was often difficult to tell where the alien stopped
and the dog began. AJ, however, was just grateful
that the pair responded to his call.
“Incoming!” he shouted, ducking on the third
stair while holding the door open. Automatic gun-
fire tore through the concrete structure, opening
the stairwell to daylight just as Greybeard cleared
the threshold and bounded down the stairs.
“We need to move, soldier!” Beverly urged,
appearing in front of him now wearing dark
green helmet and jungle fatigues common to the
Vietnam War. The sights and sounds brought
back memories of AJ’s days in ‘Nam. He responded
instinctively, diving down the stairwell, not stop-
ping even when the pain of ramming into the con-
crete wall blurred his vision. Clawing over rubble,
he propelled himself further into the darkness,
finally clearing the heavy metal threshold of the
bunker his grandfather built after WWII.
“AJ, are you okay?” Jayne slid onto her knees
next to him and started running her cold hands
beneath his shirt, searching for wounds.
A grin cracked his face. “Slow down there,
Doc. We’ve got plenty of time for whatever you’re
thinking.”
“You ass...” Her retort was cut off when an
explosion tore off the roof of the stairwell, pelting
them with concrete fragments.
“Door!” AJ lunged for the heavy steel door and
swung it closed just as a fireball illuminated the
stairwell. For good measure, he rotated the ring
on the back of the door, sinking steel bars into the
frame to seal them in.
“What in the hell is going on out there?” she
asked.
 “That Vred shuttle was circling back. It was
coming right for us. I figured those Guard F-16s
were playing for keeps.”
“The Guard can fire into a civilian population?”
“If they think the threat’s high enough.”
His voice was drowned out by a second, much
larger explosion that shook the bunker even
though it was buried ten feet beneath ground
level.
“My God,” Jayne gasped. “That must have been
a rocket.”
“That wasn’t a rocket. Something crashed - and
close. Come on, we can’t get out this way. We'll
have to go out the back.”
“Where is back?” Diego asked, surprisingly un-
perturbed by the events.
AJ gestured for them to follow. “Hope neither of
you is claustrophobic.”
The bunker wasn’t huge. He led everyone into
what was currently a pantry and handed over
boxes of food and other essential supplies, indi-
cating where they should be restacked. Once the
shelving unit was clear, he grabbed a prybar hid-
den on top and knocked down two of the shelves
before prying out a panel at the back.
“Why would your grandfather cover a mainte-
nance hatch?” Beverly asked, flipping on the bright
round light in the front of an old mining helmet
she now wore. Soot covered her from head to toe.
“He didn’t. I did. Not much use for it and we
needed the room,” AJ said, working to turn the
steel ring holding the small hatch closed. “Darn
thing is frozen. Diego, fetch that jug of corn oil in
the kitchen, would you? I don’t think I have any-
thing better down here.”
“Yes, Mr. AJ,” Diego agreed and ran off.
“That kid trusts you entirely too much,” Jayne
said. “You're nothing but a lure for danger.”
“Diego and I are simpatico,” he said. “We know
another survivor when we see one. He’s got my
back and I’ve got his, just like in ‘Nam.”
“Ohhh, I see,” she said, sounding a little
irritated.
“Don't worry, darling, you and me are just like
that except I like you having my back a whole lot
more.”
She slapped AJ, the sound reverberating in the
small space. “Oh, I didn’t mean to hit you so hard,”
she said, almost sounding sincere.
AJ rubbed his cheek and considered the aged
surgeon. Like him, aliens had reversed her aging
process until she appeared as healthy and fit as
she’d been in her late twenties. It was hard to rec-
oncile that they’d both served in ‘Nam together
and met at a field hospital where she saved his life.
Running into each other years later after AJ’s near-
fatal accident, they’d had little choice but to join
the fight to save the world from the Korgul men-
ace. AJ liked to think they had formed a deep bond,
even though neither had sought to put words to
their relationship.
“Here is the oil, Mr. AJ,” Diego said, holding the
bottle out and smiling broadly at Jayne.
“Ask me, I must have struck a nerve to get you
all riled up like that.”
“I’m not riled,” she retorted.
AJ smiled to himself and poured canola oil onto
the frozen gears of the hatch. “Just keep telling
yourself that,” he muttered under his breath.
“I can hear you just fine, Albert Jenkins.”
He set the pry bar between the rungs of the
wheel and pulled. At first, he was unsuccessful.
After a couple of tries the wheel grudgingly gave
way.
“BB, you have any idea what’s going on top-
side?” AJ asked, using his preferred nickname for
Beverly.
“All of my connections are severed,” she said.
“Something caused significant damage within the
junkyard. I suspect, like you, there is a downed
craft. That you do not smell jet fuel suggests the
craft is likely the Vred shuttle.”
AJ shrugged as he looked over to Jayne. “You re-
ally need to get one of these riders back onboard,”
he said, pointing at Beverly. Jayne and her first
alien guest's personalities had conflicted to the
point that she’d risked her life to separate from it.
Thomas, her second rider, worked out much better
but he'd sacrificed himself to test the cure for Ko-
rgul invasion.
“Two Beltigersk symbiotes in one life seems
like a nice number,” she said. “Although, I dearly
miss Thomas’s keen intellect and gentlemanly
ways.”
AJ grinned at Beverly. “I believe that slight was
aimed at me. Thing is girls all say they want a gen-
tleman. It’s a story they tell themselves.”
“You're incorrigible,” Jayne said. “I don’t know
what I see in you.”
He grinned and worked the door open to the
pitch black of a rusted steel pipe not much wider
than a man's shoulders. “Ladies first?”
“Do we really not have a flashlight?” Jayne
asked, irritated.
 He handed her a D-cell battery light and flicked
it on. The beam disappeared down the tight steel
tunnel, not illuminating an end. She looked back
at AJ, her lower lip quivering. As soon as she recog-
nized the nervous action her jaw clamped shut.
“I remember crawling through a few tunnels
like this back in the day,” he said, taking the flash-
light and crawling into the steeply upward-sloping
pipe. “Not my best memory of the war.”
Jayne crawled in behind him. “I remember
some of the boys talking about the tunnels. It
sounded horrific. Are you doing okay?”
“No mud, no Viet Cong. This is a walk in the
park, Doc.”
It took several minutes for the trio to work their
way to the top of the shaft. The last several yards
of the shaft widened where the tunnel went com-
pletely vertical, the only way forward a makeshift
ladder of bent steel rebar. AJ paused when he
reached the top of the shaft and placed the palm of
his hand against the hatch.
“Cool to the touch. That’s a good sign,” he said,
spinning the locking wheel. His first push at the
hatch was unsuccessful. Pushing hard, his foot
slipped and he barely missed kicking Jayne in the
face.
 “Careful,” she said.
“Sorry, Doc. I’m having trouble moving this.”
“Is it locked?”
“No. Hold the flashlight, would you?” He pulled
the light from between his teeth and handed it
down to her.
“AJ, I will give you a small burst of adrenaline,”
Beverly said. “It will increase your strength for a
few moments. Be careful that you do not strain or
tear your ligaments.”
He grunted and his eyes widened as adrenaline
hit his system. Everything seemed to go into slow
motion and his mind cleared, even though his
heart was racing. With a savage thrust, he pushed
up into the hatch and threw it back, growling an-
grily as a tipped-over washing machine tumbled
away.
“Quite impressive,” Jayne said, chuckling.
“Maybe I understand why we’re together.”
“T’m just a piece of meat to you, aren’t I?” He
reached into the hole after crawling out. With
adrenaline still in his system, he lifted the lithe
doctor out as if she weighed nothing and set her
on the ground. When he turned back, Diego was
already out.
“Not just a piece of meat,” she said, grinning
back at him.
He reveled for only a moment in her attention,
then looked around. “Holy shit. I just finished it!
How could this happen?”
Jayne followed his gaze to the burning rubble of
his newly rebuilt home. Right there in the middle
of the rubble was the wreckage of the Vred shuttle.
The ship’s fuselage looked intact, but both engines
were missing. He traced a line of destruction and
saw that one of the engines had plowed a furrow
across the top of the bunker’s entrance. The sec-
ond engine had burrowed a similar track across
the front of the machine shop. Both engines had
missed his workshop, but the house was a com-
plete loss.
“Oh, AJ! Your house,” Jayne said. “I’m so sorry.”
The sound of scraping metal drew their atten-
tion to the fuselage, still surrounded by the burn-
ing wreckage of his home. A hatch was thrown
back and two human hands appeared, gripping the
metal around the opening. Jayne and AJ watched
in silence as a tall figure crawled out of the ship.
It took a moment, but AJ realized their uninvited
guest was his old friend, Army Ranger, and fellow
Beltigersk host, Lefty Johnson.
“Shit, Lefty,” AJ said, not sure what else to say.
“Anyone hurt?”
“Sorry about the mess. Just a second.” Lefty
gestured to someone inside. A moment later, a
reptilian humanoid followed Lefty out, purplish
blood running down the side of the obviously
female Vred’s face. “Sharg is hurt and I think Quee-
nie’s pinned under something.”
AJ looked for a safe route across that yard that
would take him to the ship. “Hold on, Sharg, there’s
fire all around you. Diego, Jayne, get some water on
this, I’ve got to get something.”
He raced into the machine shed. This time,
however, he slowed as he entered, plucked a back-
pack from the workbench and slung it over his
shoulders. Clipping buckles into place, he sucked
in a quick breath to steady himself.
“Fire is hot, AJ. The gasses rising could cause
significant lung damage,” Beverly warned as he
fired up the rocket pack. The device didn’t actually
use rocket technology for propulsion but instead
utilized a rare element called Fantastium known to
only a few humans.
“You and Jayne will just need to patch me up
then,” he said. “If the ship rolls over with that
hatch open, they could get roasted.”
“I will do my best,” Beverly said, “but if you pass
into unconsciousness, I might not be able to save
you.”
“Aww, you ladies just can’t help gushing over
me today,” he said, flitting over the burning struc-
ture. As promised, the heated gasses made him
choke but he crossed over the flames before he was
overcome.
“Sharg, you have cranial bleeding that must be
attended to immediately,” Beverly stated as AJ set-
tled next to her.
“T am unwell,” Sharg said in a cultured voice
at odds with her decidedly reptilian features. The
seven-foot-tall Vred swooned from loss of blood
and fell heavily into AJ’s arms.
“Can this pack hold us both?” AJ asked.
“It is beyond the functional capacity of the
unit,” Beverly said.
He struggled to get an arm beneath the heavy
alien. “How much beyond?”
“Tt will not work, AJ.”
The ship rocked beneath his feet, unstable
atop the burning house. “Jayne, I need a path!” he
shouted over the roaring flames. “Soak it down!”
“The structure is too unstable. You'll fall
through,” she called back while pointing the hose
at the house beneath AJ. The spray was largely in-
effective against the flames.
“Oh, this is gonna suck.” He slid down the side
of the ship onto a narrow section of fallen roof not
yet burning.
“AJ, no!” Jayne called. “You'll be trapped.” She
doubled her efforts to soak the structure nearest
his location but wasn’t overly effective.
“BB, gonna need all the lift this baby can give
us,” He jumped onto a charred beam covered in
glowing embers. “Jayne, my legs! Spray my legs!”
He ran across the beam and faltered as the
structure shifted beneath him. The motors of the
small rocket pack whined with urgency but failed
to provide any lift. When he fell to one knee, an
ember burned through his pants. He yowled in
pain but managed to stand back up. A fresh wave
of water struck his chest as Jayne managed to ex-
tend the stream.
“Mr. AJ, run!” Diego urged, unnecessarily.
The encouragement and his own dogged
determination drove AJ forward even against the
blistering pain in his feet. Cool water washed over
him as he reached the new landscaping that had
been planted only the day before. This time when
AJ stumbled, he allowed Sharg to fall from his
grasp.
 “Help her,” he ordered and lifted into the air.
“BB, tell me I can at least carry a human.”
“Yes,” she said. “But, AJ, you have tissue damage
to your feet. Iam blocking a substantial amount
of the pain. You must be careful. There is a high
probability your body could simply shut down due
to the shock.”
“Never tell me the odds, BB,” AJ said, gritting his
teeth against pain that seemed almost too intense
to survive. He couldn’t imagine what he’d be feel-
ing if Beverly wasn’t blocking his pain receptors.
When he arrived back at the hatch, AJ was met
by Lefty, holding the semiconscious McQueen.
AJ lifted the lanky Ranger from Lefty’s grasp.
Like Sharg, Queenie was suffering from deep lac-
erations. Unlike Sharg, however, both Lefty and
Queenie had Beltigersk symbiotes who would heal
them given sufficient time and nutrition.
“Go,” Lefty said.
“It is good to see you, sister.” Lefty’s Beltigersk
rider, Rebel, appeared in her preferred outfit of
Daisy Duke’s and knotted jean shirt.
“What has happened?” Beverly had shifted her
attire to formal black robes. AJ only saw her wear-
ing that outfit when she was working through po-
litical issues.
 “When our humans are safe,” Rebel answered.
“Yes, of course.”
AJ held Queenie tightly as he moved him over
the moat of fire that had once been his house.
Landing on the ground, pain erupted through AJ’s
entire body as his feet touched down.
“I’m sorry, AJ. There is so much damage, you
should not go back. Iam not certain you will make
it,” Beverly said.
“Bullshit,” he said. “Lefty didn’t leave me be-
hind in ‘Nam and I’m not leaving him.”
This time when he crossed the ever-intensi-
fying fire, his vision started to brown out. He put
on a spurt of speed and crashed against the ship’s
hull, momentarily freed from the worst of the
heat.
“T’ve got you, brother,” Lefty said, pulling AJ to
the hatch from where cool, clean air flowed freely.
AJ struggled to grab onto his brother-in-arms and
the very man who'd rescued him from captivity
in the jungle so many years before. “Nah, son, this
one’s on old Lefty. You done your job. Just settle
back.”
He couldn’t muster the energy to argue with
the man who deftly unstrapped him from his
rocket pack. It was through bleary eyes and dim
consciousness that he realized Lefty was carry-
ing him out of danger once again. He tried to say
something but was incapable of even managing a
grin.
AJ slipped in and out of consciousness as Lefty
lifted him from the burning wreck and deposited
him on the ground next to the unconscious alien
Jayne was tending. Like all Vred, Sharg was hu-
manoid but had smooth reptilian scales for skin,
clawed hands, and a slightly protruding snout
which boasted sharp, predatory teeth. Despite her
terrifying visage, the Vred was a gentle giant anda
pacifist.
"Doc, tell me my Shelia's going to be okay,"
Queenie implored. The six-foot-two-inch Aussie
had fallen hard for Sharg, the alien woman who
now lay on the ground a safe distance from the
carnage.
"Don't worry about me," AJ groaned as con-
sciousness became even more elusive. Sirens
and the heavy, rhythmic thumping of helicopter
blades competed with the sound of roaring flames.
The war he'd fought so many years before was still
a part of him and the memories came back full
force to take over his pain-addled mind. "Aww,
shit! Charlie's inbound! Take cover!" His exertion
was soon followed by painful, wracking coughs.
"We've got you," a familiar female voice filtered
through the fog as strong hands ripped his pant
legs open. "That's our evac coming in. You're safe,
soldier. Just let go. I've got you."
 TWO

NO PATRIOT

Beeping machines and the overpowering smell of

antiseptic greeted AJ as he struggled to regain con-
sciousness. He tried to lift his arm to scratch his
nose, but the tug of a shackle on his wrist and the
clank of chain against metal set off warning bells.
"Ah, Mr. Jenkins, you're awake." While AJ didn't
recognize the voice, he had no trouble recognizing
its self-important bureaucratic tenor.
The events of the downed Vred ship flooded
back as he struggled to recall how he'd ended up
locked to a hospital bed. Without opening his
eyes, he took stock of his physical condition, first
wiggling his toes and fingers and then shifting his
arms and legs.
"You're in a military hospital in Richmond, Vir-
ginia," Beverly quietly informed him. It sounded
like she was sitting next to his ear, even though
he knew she was attached somewhere along his
optical nerve. “I've had to dismantle a significant
portion of your musculature because they're only
feeding you small amounts of glucose through the
attached IV."
"Why am I chained to this bed? AmIa
prisoner?" AJ knew his visitor would believe the
questions were directed to him, but he was more
interested in Beverly's take on the situation.
"It is for your own protection." The man's
answer was practiced. "Your body was damaged in
a fire. Tell me, do you recall the circumstances of
this fire?"
AJ opened his eyes and took in the plain gray
walls of the room. He wasn’t in any normal
hospital.
"His name is Gerald Loveit. Officially, he's a
long-term staffer for the US State Department.
Unofficially, he is a part of the newly formed Alien
Affairs division of the CIA," Beverly said.
"It is speaking with you now?" Gerald asked.
This got AJ's attention and he looked at the man
seated in a chair at the end of his bed. Gerald was
in his mid-fifties and was staring at a small elec-
tronic device that could pass for a phone.
 "Ite"
"The Beltigersk ambassador, 49231125-0-B,"
Gerald answered. "We know you currently harbor
an illegal alien symbiote."
"You know this, do you?" AJ scoffed.
"Explain how fourth-degree burns on your
feet and legs miraculously healed after only a few
days."
"Who do you work for?"
"Not your concern."
"You didn't answer if I'm a prisoner."
"Why is there an alien spaceship in your junk-
yard, Mr. Jenkins?"
"Because Air National Guard shot it down over
a highly populated area," AJ said angrily. "Nice job
on that, by the way. You owe me a new house."
Loveit sighed. "Can I take it that you don't in-
tend to cooperate?"
"Cooperate with what? You shoot something
down on my house, injure me in the process and
you want my cooperation? Maybe start with an
apology," AJ said, struggling to sit up, but discov-
ered the handcuffs prevented him from moving.
"You're a threat to national security," Loveit
said. "You shouldn't be allowed to run around
freely."
 "Let's try this again. I'll take it slow, so you can
keep up," AJ said. "Am. I. A. Prisoner?"
"For your own safety, you are not free to move
about the facility."
"That's a fine distinction. Has Captain Jackie
Baird been informed of my circumstances? Army
researcher who sounds like she's into the same
things you are, except she's not an asshole spook."
"IT don't believe we've discussed my current
employment. Are you confirming the presence of
an illegal alien symbiote?"
"I was in ‘Nam, kid," AJ said. "I can smell a
spook a mile away. If I'm right, you've got no legal
grounds to hold a US citizen."
"I've captured an alien, who happens to be
surrounded by a US citizen, who I've placed in pro-
tective custody."
"Love the conversation: lies wrapped about
misleading statements. You're a douchebag. Now,
uncuff me. You have no right to hold me," AJ said,
rattling the chain.
Loveit stood and gave AJ asmarmy smile. "It ap-
pears you are having difficulty. I'll request medical
staff to visit and I'll return when you're in a better
position to discuss matters rationally."
"Does Baird know I'm being held?"
 Loveit turned his back and opened the door. "I
don't know who you're talking about."
"Tell me that after you get her foot outta your
ass," AJ called after him, chuckling.
"There is considerable electronic surveillance
within this room," Beverly said, her voice still low.
"For fear of discovery, Iam keeping our commu-
nication at minimal levels. I sent a message to
Captain Baird three hours ago. There has been no
response. I will continue monitoring."
"Oh, dear! You are awake," an older woman
wearing scrubs said as she entered the room before
the door had a chance to close. AJ looked her over.
She was in her early sixties and had a grandmoth-
erly build. “Are you in pain, dear?" The woman
hurried to the IV bottles connected to AJ's arm.
"That's morphine," Beverly said. “It's difficult to
resist. Stop her."
"No pain," he said. "Slow that morphine down."
The woman removed her hands from the bottle
and gave him a curious once-over. "You might still
be in shock. You have considerable burns across
your feet and lower legs. Trust me, you do not
want to brave this out, young man."
"Army?" AJ asked.
This caught the woman's attention and she
smiled as she answered, “Hooah!"
"Hooah," he answered. "Don't suppose you can
release these cuffs?"
She gave her head a quick shake. "Sorry, soldier.
Old Betty's job is to provide comfort and aid
healing. I'll pass your request along to command,
though. Are you sure you're not hurting? I saw
your legs when I changed your bandages. You're in
pain. No need to be a hero."
"Any chance for some grub?" he asked, ignoring
her pushing.
Betty patted his shoulder as she worked her
way back to the top of the bed, fiddling with the
drip. A cold sensation rushed into AJ's arm and
grogginess overwhelmed him.
"Too much," Beverly said as he lost conscious-
ness.
Sometime later, his eyes slowly opened. As con-
sciousness returned, he became aware of someone
seated next to his bed. At first, he thought it was
Captain Baird coming to his rescue.
"Baird?" AJ asked, groggily.
"She's not coming," Loveit answered, triumph
in his voice. "You tipped your hand by contacting
her."
"What do you want?" AJ asked. Loveit stood and
walked around to the base of AJ's bed, lifting the
sheets. "What kind of pervert are you?"
"Remarkable healing you've undergone,
wouldn't you say?" Loveit asked, flicking open a
pocketknife before grabbing AJ's ankle. AJ yanked
his foot away, but with the help of the short
shackles, Loveit easily recaptured his leg and held
it tight. Pain lanced through his body as Loveit
stripped the bandages, not caring if he gashed AJ's
leg in the process. "I was told third- and fourth-
degree burns, but your skin is fresh looking, like a
baby's. Care to explain?"
"Guess you guys got it wrong."
"We have pictures, would you care to see them?"
"You're operating a black site in the US," AJ said.
"I'm a US citizen. What you're doing is illegal as
hell. You have no right to hold me."
"Patriot Act is a wonderful thing. The latitude I
have with terroristic activities, threats to national
security... the list goes on and on," Loveit said.
"You can kiss the old rules goodbye. What I want
is simple. I want that alien in your skull. I want to
prosecute it for high crimes. I want to string you
up for treason. I want that crocodile in custody
and most of all I want to put you in a deep dark
place."
 "You're not exactly making your case," AJ said.
"I'm unable to verify that Sharg is free. It makes
more sense that, just as you were captured, so were
our friends," Beverly whispered. AJ smiled. It was
the first time Beverly had referenced his group as
her friends.
"You think this is funny?" Loveit asked, tipping
the blade of his knife into the skin of AJ's calf.
"Shit, stop!" he growled through the pain.
"Tronic, don't you think? That alien will heal
your leg and any torture I inflict will be like it
never happened. I can do this all day and no one
will be the wiser," Loveit stabbed the three-inch
blade deep into the muscle.
AJ howled in agony. "You. Sick. Fuck."
"Good, we're finally on a first-name basis,"
Loveit said. "This room is air-gapped and that little
message you tried to get out was intercepted. Nice
try, though."
"Don't know what you're talking about."
"We've been feeding your little alien crap. It's
all lies," he said. "My name is not Gerald Loveit and
you're not in Richmond, Virginia. Whatever you
think you know, you don't. The sooner you realize
your only choice is to play ball with us, the better."
"Nice."
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