A Twist in Time by Frank J. Derfler Page A

get a ride," he said into the phone and hung up. 
     
    The base speed limit in this area was thirty miles an hour, so the small truck was moving slowly.  Ted stood in the road and waved his arms.  There were two people wearing baseball-style fatigue caps in the truck and both windows were down. 
     
    When the truck stopped and Ted approached the driver's side, he saw that there were two enlisted women in the truck.  "Thanks for stopping," he said.  "I just got a call.  Something is going on and I need to get back to my unit quickly."
     
    "Where's that?" the driver asked. 
     
    "That white building near the end of the flight line.  I really need to get there." 
     
    The driver shrugged and said, "Get in."  She indicated the passenger side door with her head.  
     
    The woman on the passenger's side undid her seatbelt and slid into the middle as Ted got in.  He was aware that he was sweaty and tried not to crowd the other passenger, but the single seat of the Japanese-made light truck was a tight fit.  Both women wore the two stripes of an Airman First Class on their fatigues and he thought they looked like they were about eighteen years old, but he was getting to be a bad judge of age. 
     
    "What's going on?" asked the driver.
     
    "I have no idea, but my guys called and said I need to get back quick." 
     
    The sound of the base alert siren punctuated his sentence.  The driver continued on, but all three of them were listening for the announcement they knew would follow the 30-second siren blast.  The 30 seconds seemed to go on forever.  At thirty miles an hour they had just covered less than half the distance back to the Project.   Then they heard the announcement, "Attention on base, set Force Protection Charlie.  This is not a drill.  Set Force Protection Charlie." 
     
    "Holy shit!" the driver said.  "We've got to go lock down the fuel farm." 
     
    "Get up to that intersection." Ted pointed.  The intersection was at least a quarter mile away.  "Then you can take a left back to the fuel farm and I'll jump out.  Step on it.  If you get in trouble, tell them Major General Arthurs gave you an order.  I'll back you up. " 
     
    The driver cut him a look.  Ted read her mind. "This old guy with knobby knees wearing running shorts is a two star general?"  She nodded and pushed on the gas.  The little engine in the pickup hesitated, pinged, and tried to wind up.  They got to a blistering 45 MPH before they reached the stop sign for the four-way intersection.  "Go through it, make the turn and let me out," Ted directed. 
     
    "Yes, Sir!" the driver said and tried to take the turn on two wheels.  Ted slid into the woman in the middle because the truck didn't have seat belts for three in the front.  The little truck responded by under-steering and almost running into the ditch.  Ted jumped out of the passenger's side even before the truck stopped.  "Thanks!" he said.  As he started running toward the Project, he heard the driver say, "Holy shit!" one more time.
     
    The remaining half a mile took him four long minutes to run. There was an armed civilian security guard at the gated fence of the Project.  He had the gate open and waved Ted through.  A second guard opened the outer door as Ted trotted up to the building.  "We heard you were coming," the guard commented as they went through the second inner door together.  Even though he was in his running clothes, Ted's arm implant chip was the security pass he needed inside the Project. 
     
    He entered the operations room and stood panting next to the Controller's console.  Bill Wirtz turned his head and nodded to him from the Planning Team Console.
     
    The Duty Controller stood, leaned in, and spoke in a low voice to his Commander.  The Assistant Duty Controller at his side was talking on the phone and studying a checklist on his screen.   "Sir, we received a military-wide CRITIC message at fourteen forty local.  It reported an