The fluorescent lighting in the office gave off a harsh white light that washed out the deep tan that McHugh normally sported.
McHugh looked up from the manila folder that he was reading from as Mike walked into his office.
“Hi, Mike, take a seat. I think we have stumbled on to something a lot larger than we ever thought. Here, take a look at these reports.” He dropped several folders labeled “Top Secret” in front of Mike.
Mike picked up a manila folder and opened it. Inside the folder were carbon copies of typewritten reports from the late 1940s. Also included were photographs taken by Army Air Corps investigators at the site of a crashed flying vehicle of unknown origin. The crash described in the reports involved an alleged alien spacecraft near Socorro, New Mexico, in July 1947.
“I’ve read about such things,” said Mike. “But this — this is proof positive that the United States has been visited by UFOs.”
“Read on, Mike. There’s more.”
Silently, Mike continued to read the reports. The crash involved a craft of unknown origin. In the wreckage of the spacecraft, investigators had found the bodies of three aliens who had perished in the crash. The wreckage and the three bodies were secretly transported to the Army’s Wright-Patterson Field in Dayton, Ohio.
Finishing the file, Mike looked up at McHugh, who had been quietly sitting back in his chair, drawing on his corncob pipe, observing his young protégé’s reactions to this mind boggling information.
Awkwardly, Mike said, “Sir, what does this have to do with us?”
“Here,” said McHugh as he took something out of a manila envelope and tossed it to Mike. The object was a silvery colored sheet of paper-like cloth material.
The strange markings on the sheet of material were indecipherable and looked as if they had been imprinted with a device that had fused the image’s pigmentation directly into the fibers of the material. Also fused into the material was a map of what looked like the United States of America. At four locations on the sheet were what appeared to be coordinates and a locator in hieroglyphics of an unknown language. The sites coincided with the locations of the four Sentinels.
“Holy shit, Sir. Does this say what I think it says?”
McHugh shrugged and sighed. “Our eggheads can’t decipher the information as yet. By the way, this map is so classified that knowledge of its existence must be denied by all who have seen it. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“My guess is that the spacecraft was on a mission involving the objects that have been found around the United States. I’d like you to check out the Socorro incident firsthand.”
“When do I leave?”
“Tomorrow,” said McHugh. “Go through this file in detail and let’s talk before you go,”
“Welcome to Holloman Air Force Base, Lieutenant Liu,” said Captain Edward McIntyre as Mike climbed down from the F-4 Phantom that had just brought him from Andrews Air Force Base, near Washington, D.C.
“Thank you very much, sir,” said Mike, as he saluted the senior officer.
“What brings Naval Intelligence to the Southwest to investigate an old alleged UFO crash site? Not much water in the New Mexican desert.”
“I’m really sorry, sir, but my orders are clear. I can’t discuss anything. I’m to be given access to all information you may have,” said Mike to McIntyre, whom he knew had been assigned to Project Blue Book, the successor Air Force group to Project Grudge. Project Blue Book had continued to officially investigate extraterrestrial activity well into the sixties, until its activities had been taken over by CSAC.
“Sorry, just idle curiosity,” said McIntyre. “Anyway, welcome.” He extended his right hand to Mike. “By the way, drop the formalities, okay? My name is Ed.”
“Okay. Call me Mike. It does seem unlikely, I guess,” said Mike as he shook McIntyre’s hand.
Only a few people in the government had been given the opportunity to link the Watch Stations with the events in New Mexico and Wright-Patterson Air Base. Inside the CSAC, only a small control group hand-picked by McHugh was aware of the terrible consequences that could occur if, in fact, the Wright-Patterson secret were linked with the secrets of the Watch Stations. One of that group was McHugh’s junior officer, Mike Liu.
Mike got his duffel bag, tossed it into the back of the dark blue Jeep, and climbed into the back seat. McIntyre got into the right front passenger seat. As soon as the two were barely in the vehicle, the driver threw the jeep into first gear and roared off. The jackrabbit start threw them back into their seats. Both Mike and McIntyre clung to whatever part of the jeep that provided a handhold as the Jeep bounced along the flight line.
The stiff suspension of the Jeep accentuated the airman’s hell-bent method of driving. At the end of the flight line, he swung the Jeep into a sharp right turn and roared past an opening in the chain link fence on to the blacktop road. Arriving at the base commandant’s headquarters, the driver slammed on the brakes and came to a screeching stop. Both Mike and McIntyre were thrown forward by the sudden stop. As soon as both McIntyre and Mike alighted from the Jeep and Mike had retrieved his duffel bag, the airman once again threw the Jeep into first and with a squeal was gone.
“What’s that guy in training for, jet fighters or New York cabs?” said Mike.
With a laugh, McIntyre said, “One of our best mechanics. Doesn’t know how to drive worth a damn.”
The base headquarters was the typical three story stone aggregate panel and windowed building found on countless military bases around the country. The uninspired architecture was both functional and cost effective. However, the sand-colored panels seemed to fit well with the desert location of Holloman Air Force Base.
McIntyre and Mike walked to the reception counter, manned by a young airman in a dark blue uniform. The airman inspected their Department of Defense identification badges and asked both to sign the register.
“Let’s go up to my office,” suggested McIntyre.
Climbing up the three flights of steps to McIntyre’s office, Mike wondered why McHugh had sent him to Holloman. This seemed to be a well-documented situation.
The Socorro incident involved only one spacecraft and was not as widely known as the earlier crash of a flight of three spacecraft near Roswell, New Mexico. Examination of the four spacecraft had revealed similarities in design and structure. Some analysts had speculated that the four shared a common origin.
Unfortunately, like the nine occupants of the three vehicles in the Roswell incident, the three crew members of the sole Socorro craft had died in their crash. The remains of the vehicles and their crews had been taken to the medical center at Wright-Patterson Field for further forensic and medical examination.
Mike and McHugh had read the voluminous reports on the Socorro and Roswell incidents. These reports had been filed contemporaneously with the discovery of the spacecraft in the late forties.
Despite the fact that all known artifacts associated with the Socorro and Roswell crashes had been removed to Wright-Patterson, the Air Force maintained a small group of investigators at Holloman, as part of Project Blue Book. McIntyre, a 1964 graduate of the United States Air Force Academy, had been in charge of the group at Holloman.
McIntyre’s small office was in the interior of the building and was only large enough for a gray metallic desk, a gray metal bookcase, a gray leatherette desk chair, and two gray metal side chairs. In addition, two gray metal, four-drawer filing cabinets sat in one corner of the tiny office, with an angle iron across their front, held in place by two combination locks.