Free The Black Ships by A.G. Claymore

a hell of a lot tougher than politicians.” She reached
up and put her hands on his shoulders. “I guarantee that you will be handing
back at least five percent of the budget when this is done and it will be done on time.”
    “Thanks babe.” He gave scooped her into a
one armed hug as they moved toward the aircraft. “I hope you realize there’s
going to be a lot more travel than before.” They started up a boarding stair
built into the door. “You’re free to come along if you want, Sarah already has
plans to visit Helsinki.”
    “Sarah?” Ellen reached the top of the
ladder and followed Frank into the cabin. Kim and Sarah sat in a pair of comfy
leather loungers, Kim grinning like an escaped mental patient  and Sarah
smiling sympathetically at Ellen. Ivan was rooting through the galley.
    Frank dropped into the lounger opposite Kim
and Ellen joined them. “You didn’t think I’d take on a job like this without an
experienced designer, did you?”
    Now, two weeks later, he smiled at his wife
as she dropped into a chair in his office. “Finished at last?” he knew she
wouldn’t have left the apartment until she’d met her latest deadline.
    She laughed. “The rotors finally work!” she
declared triumphantly. Her work as a freelance CGI designer often involved
pulling all-nighters to iron out some tricky detail. Never one to miss an
opportunity, she liked to turn her triumphs into video tutorials on her blog.
Her site quickly became a destination for those who sought to learn and it
raised her profile in the design community. “You able to go for lunch today?”
she asked.
    Frank checked his watch. “We have three
hours before we leave for Germany; I have time for something quick. How about
pizza?”
    “Don’t you know how to treat a
girl.” Ellen rolled her eyes as she got up.
     

Red Flag Mineral Co.
    Sixty
Meter Observatory
    Mauna
Kea, Hawaii
    January 30th, 2026
    “T hey’re here,” Mike announced as he saw a small group of men in
combat fatigues walk into the atrium of the facility. He was looking forward to
handing this mess over to the Army. Watching hostile aliens wasn’t in his job
description.
    Pete ran his fingers over the control pad,
unlocking the control room door just before they reached it. “Not a moment too
soon, gentlemen. We were about to start climbing the walls in here.” He waved
at the heavily bearded astronomer. “This is Dr. Mike Wilsen from Red Flag and I’m
Pete McGregor from NASA.”
    A middle-aged man shook their hands.
“Colonel Matt McCutcheon.” He turned towards his men, “This is Sergeant Wesley
Davis, Corporal Rob Farquhar and Corporal Andrew Alexander.” The men all nodded
as the introductions progressed. “Now, gentlemen, if you’ll take us through
what you have so far, we’ll set up shop and you can take a couple days off.”
His nostrils twitched. “I think the first thing you better show me is the
ventilation controls for this room.” He grinned to take some of the sting from
his words. “You boys got a serious funk going in here.”
    Mike sheepishly showed the intelligence
officer how to get the air exchanger running before showing him the imagery
that they had managed to capture whenever planetary alignment cooperated. He
was running the colonel’s last sentence through his head and decided he didn’t
like how it sounded. Take a couple of days off? Mike hadn’t planned on
coming back while this crisis was still playing out. He was planning on hanging
out at the beach. Maybe put in an appearance at the NASA site down the hill
every afternoon; just to make sure the checks from Red Flag kept coming.
    The officer stared at the video as aliens
demolished the rovers. “Wes, are you seeing this?” He looked over at his sergeant
who was looking up at the screen. He nodded to himself and turned back to the
screen. “They told us in the brief that hostile behavior was evident, but what
did they miss?”
    The sergeant snorted and shook his