Out There

‘What do you mean she went up in a spaceship?’  The Pentagon official shouted down the line. The costings for chasing the Canadian potential terrorist had just landed on his desk.  Six months she’d been under surveillance by three CIA agents, who had been living high on the hog in the local town there.  Hired cars, trips back and forwards between America and Canada, first class no less, eating out three times a day, the list went on.  Jack Madden had approved everything, sure that at last they’d tapped into an intricate web of international terrorism.  Never in his fifty-one years with the Pentagon had he come across this level of communication.  The woman was an enigma to say the least.  Next year he’d planned on retiring, and going out in a blaze of glory courtesy of one Peta of Canada.  He was sure her obsession with US gun laws and Middle Eastern warfare was a decoy for the wholesale production of WMD.  And now these turkeys were telling him she’d gone up in a spaceship.  
He decided he had two options. One, take them seriously and get more people onto the case.  Or two, close the book and sack his three operatives in Canada.  He’d quiz them first.
‘Who was with you when you saw it?’
‘Julie and Roy.’  Jake replied. ‘We’ve got footage of it.’
‘Talk me through it.’
‘Well she went up in a mirage and a purple light blocked out the rest.  There was a strange streak in the sky afterwoulds.  Plus, we recorded the buzzing sound that preceded lift off.’
‘Oh, come on.  A purple light? WTF!’
‘Look she’s gone.  There’s been no communication since she left, and just before she left we decoded a message that said one week.  That could mean she’s coming back in a week.  We want infra-red cameras and more sensitive equipment, and the power to bring her in, all by next week.’
‘Or it could mean a terrorist attack in one week.  And that’s now only four days away. The communication is highly sophisticated, you do realise.  For all you know she’s gone away in a helicopter, preparing for a terrorist attack.’
‘There’s only one way to check it out chief.’
Sighing, Major Jack Madden had to agree. ‘Send me the video and recording express post, and I’ll let you know.’  He hung up and stared at the wall.  Rarely did he look out of the large L-shaped windows above the massive Pentagon car park.  His office was a prestigious corner affair, on the tenth floor, bigger than most.  Three receptionists adjoined his office via a door which he kept shut. The interior was standard Pentagon and CIA: citations on the wall; photos of when he was in Afghanistan with his crew; a rubber plant in one corner, coffee table, lounge chairs, drinks cabinet, phones, computer, large wall TV.  Typical. What was atypical was the lack of personal memorabilia. Jack Madden had occasional girlfriends, but he preferred the company of men.  Not sexually, just generally. He could never stay with any lady longer than a month, and lately didn’t bother at all.
Minutes passed as he stared at a younger Jack Madden in Afghanistan. Lean and wiry, the photo struck a chord with most as heroic.  He’d just returned from a mission near Kandahar, capturing five Taliban fighters and defusing several bombs.  He and his crew had all received citations, medals and accolades, and returned home as heroes.   Too young to retire he’d accepted tenure at the Pentagon dealing with international terrorism.  Desk bound now, he’d developed a paunch, double chin and was receding.  He was ready to retire, weary of the endless wire tapings, underground communication, lies and spying.  He was tired of terrorism and America’s murky part in it.  This case was his last.
The video and recordings were on his desk next morning. Roy wasn’t wrong. The vision was indeed shrouded in purple haze. But the buzzing sound was unmistakeable, growing in intensity as the woman levitated off the ground.  Where she went was indecipherable, as the purple light swamped everything.  But sure enough a definite white streak seared across the skies in her disappearing wake.
He buzzed a colleague with contacts at NASA. An hour later they watched the video together. ‘Can I take a copy of this?’  His colleague asked.
‘For NASA?’
‘If you don’t mind.’
‘No.  I want to keep this under wraps.’ Madden replied. ‘Can you get your guys to come here?’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Today.’  Madden said abruptly. ‘We’ve got four days to figure on a course of action.  Odds are on we’ll be heading north with highly sensitive equipment in the interim, so we’d appreciate NASA’s input ASAP.’
And Jack Madden got it.  Later that afternoon, four NASA specialists filled his office for the second viewing.
‘Strange’ was the general sentiment.  ‘Worth investigating’ was agreed by all.
The team comprised the four NASA guys, Sue, a senior lady from the international terrorism desk, and Jack Madden’s colleague.  They all congregated next morning at Dulles International Airport, along with a truck load of high security equipment before boarding a Pentagon cargo jet and then settled in for the flight.  Little was known about the place where Peta lived, except it was an underpopulated and densely forested wilderness and certainly none of them had been there before.  
A misty morning greeted them in Canada, along with two hired trucks to transport crew and equipment. The convoy drew speculative glances as it headed down the highway to the sleepy village near Peta’s property.  Over breakfast, Madden again quizzed Julie, Roy and Jake.  
‘She swears she’s writing a sci-fi novel.’  Julie said. ‘And we can’t budge her from her story, nor disprove it.’ Silently Madden thought this could be true.  He looked keenly at Julie, Roy and Jake.  ‘Tell me again what you saw.’
‘Peta levitated off the ground in a shaft of purple light into a flying saucer.’ Julie replied.