Date: Tue, 24 Oct 1995 18:31:36 -0500 Reply-To: "Robert A. Gansler" Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: "Robert A. Gansler" Subject: Rulers of the World (Part 15 of 16) Rulers of the World (Part 15 of 16) A Highlander/War of the Worlds Crossover A ContiNEWity Story * 1988: The Pentagon General Henry J. Wilson sat behind his desk, two crossed samurai swords mounted behind him. It was 7:45 in the morning. Suzanne had called and set up a very urgent meeting at 8:00. She said she was bringing along another researcher from the Pacific Institute, but the secretary had failed to give him the name. Wilson was infuriated by this; he did not like leaving things unknown. Centuries of experience had told him that knowledge was power. The secretary was sick today and there was no way that Wilson was going to be able to go through her files and determine who this other researcher was. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. The first one to enter was unmistakable; it was Suzanne McCullough. The other was a man. Wilson recognized the man instantly - it was one of the 'time traveling lunatics' from 1953, albeit minus the beard. Those two had been telling the truth, then. Wilson tried to compose himself. He did not want to give anything away, particularly the fact that he had met Harrison before. Wilson assumed that his disguise would be sufficient. However, Harrison had appeared to be quite intelligent during their first meeting. He did not want to let anything slip that might jeopardize all that he had been working towards for so many years. After Suzanne made a brief introduction, Wilson told them to sit down and began the meeting. (( "So ... Dr. Blackwood. I'm very interested in what you have to say." His expression was one of pleasant attentiveness. Wilson pulled a package of Borkum Riff from the top desk drawer and stuffed tobacco in the bowl of his pipe, then tamped it down with practiced skill. "I'm willing to listen because Suzanne speaks highly of you. Err, do you mind?" "Not at all," Suzanne said, and Harrison shook his head in agreement. "Nasty habit, actually," Wilson said cheerfully. "I've tried several times to quit, but not without much success." "I had hoped you would listen, General. for the simple reason that what I have to say is vitally important to all of us ... and our national security." Wilson raised an interested brow. He struck a match, held it to the bowl, and sucked in. "Go ahead," he said between puffs. "You've certainly got my attention." "All right, General. Have you ever heard of the Forrester Project?" Wilson drew on his pipe, one elbow resting on his desk, and furrowed his brow. "Forrester ... that was a long time ago, wasn't it? Back in the fifties?" Wilson knew exactly about what Harrison talking; he felt that feigning ignorance would be the best approach to take at this point. "Nineteen fifty-three to be exact." Wilson gave a knowing look, "We're talking about the invasion, then." "The alien invasion, yes." "Yes, I remember the Forrester Project. As a matter of fact, I'm old enough to remember it well. Forrester was the one who went around scaring people, saying the aliens really weren't dead. The army interred the aliens at great cost to the government to prevent a full-scale panic. I was on clean-up detail." Harrison described what they found at one of the alien storage sites and his explanation of what had happened. The general took his pipe from his mouth, set it in an ashtray, then leaned forward and folded his hands on top of his desk. "That," he said slowly, "is the most fantastic story I've ever heard." "It's not a story. It's scientific theory, supported by a body of fact, presented in a logical and reasonable fashion. I'm a respected astrophysicist, not some kook spouting stories." "I didn't mean to suggest otherwise, Doctor. The fact that you were brought here by my niece gives you more credibility than you realize." "Niece?" Harrison did a double take. Suzanne smiled sweetly at Wilson, "Uncle Hank is my favorite uncle." Wilson beamed back. "And you're my favorite niece. You have your aunt's eyes." After the revelation, Harrison continued to press Wilson, pleading with him to believe that the aliens were back. Wilson responded, "Bring me something concrete. I'll see that it gets to the proper people. You have my word." "There isn't time." Harrison told him bitterly. He wheeled around and strode out of the office. )) Suzanne said a brief good-bye to Wilson, kissed him on the cheek, and hurried after Harrison. Wilson picked up the pipe again and took a few puffs. This was it; the event he had feared since 1953, but had hoped was just a tale of two lunatics. He should have kept tight tabs on this Harrison Blackwood; he had known the name since 1953. However, he had been very busy with other parts of his scheme. His estimation at the time was that the 'future-men' must have been from at least seventy-five years from the future, if they were from the future at all. The clothing style, the weaponry, the wristwatch seemed to be decades away. Wilson prided himself on being a good judge of human progress; he had certainly seen enough. Still, his recollection of Harrison Blackwood in 1953 seemed to be only a few years older than the Harrison Blackwood who had just been in his office. Somehow, the time was now, and Wilson had been caught by surprise. However, that did not mean that Wilson was unequipped to deal with it. He rolled his chair over to the computer and brought up a file containing some information about some of his operatives. He had an entire network of people working for him, working towards his overall objective though they did not know it. Most of the operatives did not even know who he was. Some did, but only by name. He needed to call in some of the most efficient operatives he could. He smiled, the choice was clear. He remembered who the other man with Harrison in 1953 was. Wilson punched a few buttons and requested information on some mercenaries that had just left the Army. The reports indicated that they were the best but not too keen on doing things by the book. The video display terminal was black for a few seconds and then the information appeared regarding the Kincaid brothers, Max and John. * 1988: Vandenberg Air Force Base ((General Wilson stood contemplating the sunny fall morning beyond the window of the borrowed office, one loosely clenched hand resting against the small of his back, the other holding the bowl of the pipe. He was thinking about the information and 'evidence' that Harrison and Suzanne along with Colonel Ironhorse had collected at the nuclear waste facility - the radiation level, the barrels, the defeat of Delta squad, the partially dissolved bodies. "What you're telling me, then, is that you failed to get me the sort of hard evidence I asked for." Harrison went over what they found, point by point, and Wilson came up with alternative explanations for each of them, ones that did not require resurrected aliens. "You still don't believe us?" Suzanne asked. "I'm not suggesting any such thing. I'm telling you the kinds of things my superiors will say to me." He continued, "I did talk to Colonel Ironhorse at length very early this morning. He hasn't made an official report and he isn't going to." At Harrison' angry expression, he hastened to add, "At least, not an unclassified one. But he did admit that something incredible took place last night." "What did he tell you?" Harrison demanded bitterly. "That the Russians have some super-secret device that made us all hallucinate." "Hardly," Wilson paused to relight his pipe and drew on it, his sharp blue eyes scrutinizing them from behind a fresh haze of smoke. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm trying to explain why - considering the ... uncertain nature of what we're dealing with - it's vital that this whole affair be kept top-secret." He rested his elbow on the desk and leaned forward. "When Delta squad is defeated, captured, the army sits up and takes notice. So do I ... and my superiors. Very important superiors." Wilson sat back "These same people are very eager to keep this matter hush-hush." It was an outright lie. Nobody beyond this office would hear about it, Wilson would ensure that. Harrison sat forward, "Hold it right there, General. Keeping this quiet won't make it go away. I remember what happened to Clayton Forrester thirty-five years ago when the army decided to hush things up. Wilson laughed on the inside, "And it was all my doing, not that you'll ever know." He responded to Harrison, "I understand. What happened to your adoptive father was an unfortunate mistake, Dr. Blackwood. For all of us. I think we've come far enough along not to make the same mistake again." "The Pr-," he seemed to let slip, "My superiors would rather this didn't become a political issue. They want it kept quiet, but that doesn't mean they want it ignored. I've been asked to offer you a job." "Pinch me," he whispered looking over at Suzanne. "I'm dreaming." Harrison's exhilaration faded as a sudden suspicion took hold of him. "Wait a minute," he said to Wilson. I want a guarantee I can do things my way. No red tape." "Guaranteed." Wilson nodded. "Your own people, your own methods, what ever you want." Wilson would be sure that no bureaucrats would get in the way because they would not even know. "Now I know I am dreaming." "Naturally," Wilson continued, "we'll have to establish certain security procedures -" Harrison's grin faded as he became defensive again. "What kind of procedures?" Wilson's gaze was innocent. "To protect you and your colleagues. And to protect the secrecy of the project. Nothing you wouldn't do yourself, I assure you," Wilson went on, "Aside from you, you have a blank check." Harrison and Suzanne looked at each other with wide eyes. "How big a check?" Suzanne asked coyly. Wilson shrugged cavalierly trying not to smile as he spoke. "I think the Federal Reserve can cover any check you choose to write." He hesitated. "Of course, you'll need a co-signer ... " He reached across the desk for the intercom and pressed down a button, and said, "We're ready now." "Oh, Lord," Harrison muttered, understanding everything. The door opened and Lieutenant Colonel Paul Ironhorse entered, wearing a freshly laundered uniform. Harrison put his head in his hands and groaned; Suzanne emitted a gentle sigh. "Well," Wilson said brightly, rising, "I believe you all know one another." )) Wilson felt it very fortunate that it was Ironhorse that had been the commanding officer on the scene. He was a very capable soldier and very committed to keeping secrets just that - secrets. With Ironhorse on the team now, 'The Blackwood Project' as he called it, Wilson felt that he had the situation under control now. He would keep the problem contained. With the Blackwood Project, the Kincaid brothers, as well as his legions of minor operatives out there, the aliens would not be allowed to interfere with his overall plan. Wilson smiled, pleased with himself, and returned to his computer. There still were details to manage. Bob G. EPRI HVAC&R Center rgansler@facstaff.wisc.edu http://www.engr.wisc.edu/~gansler/ "Reality - a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there." =========================================================================