Pit Bulls vs Aliens by Neal Wooten Page B

another airman said.
    “Good God . . . why?” The general stared at the airman to let him know it wasn’t a rhetorical question. “And who? If they wanted to take out the canal, surely there are easier ways. Heck, just fill a ship with explosives. There are a million ways to accomplish that without using long-range missiles.”
    “Sir,” Airman Rodriguez said, “I don’t believe they are missiles. They’re moving too fast and they are much larger than any weapon I’m aware of.”
    “Do we have a visual?” the general asked.
    One of the civilian operatives spoke up. “General, we have an AWACS in the gulf. They can get us a long-distance shot.”
    “Do it.” The general walked toward the front and waited. After several seconds he looked back at the operative, who appeared to be getting a little nervous.
    “It’s coming through now, sir.”
    The second screen filled with a cloudless blue void as the general adjusted his glasses and squinted. There they were: six tiny black lines that seemed to be stationary. With no reference other than the sky, they looked like tiny scratches on the screen.
    “You’re right,” the general said. “Those aren’t missiles. So what the heck are they?”
    The airman with the canal idea spoke again. “Maybe they’re meteorites.”
    The general turned and looked at the young soldier as if he were impaired in some way. “Meteorites? Falling in formation? And what, they have been hurtling at Earth visible to our radar for years and we just missed them? Is that what you’re telling me, son? And if they’re meteorites, where’s the fire? Why aren’t they burning up in our atmosphere?”
    No one had an answer.
    “But it’s certain they didn’t fly here through the air,” the general said. “So that leaves only one place they could have come from—space. Contact NASA and see what they know.”
    Everyone worked feverishly trying to provide some answers, or at least make it look as if they were searching. NORAD had been established in 1958 as a joint effort between the governments of the United States and Canada with the simple mission of providing warning and defense from surprise attacks over North America. And even though the objects were not heading for North America, there was no guarantee that others would not appear over the sovereign area. In all that time, never had there been an attack to warn people about—not once.
    A man in a black suit and tie entered the room. “General, the president and vice president have been moved to PEOC. All of the information you’re tracking here will be sent to that new location.”
    The general looked confused. “The Presidential Emergency Operations Center? I thought that was for nuclear attack. Do you guys at NSA know what’s going on?”
    “No, sir. We do not.”
    “Tell me what you do know,” the general said.
    The man looked around the room as if wondering if he should divulge classified information. He leaned in and whispered. “Sir, we’ve heard from Russia and the United Kingdom. They’re as stumped as we are. But they verified that no missiles have left Europe, Asia, or the Middle East.”
    The general didn’t respond. He already knew that it wasn’t missiles. He didn’t want to know what the incoming objects were not; he wanted to know what they were.
    The man in the black suit excused himself and left the room.
    Another person spoke up. “General, NASA says all space is clear above the objects. In fact, they say there is nothing visible anywhere in space other than the space station and known satellites.”
    The general started pacing back and forth. He didn’t know what was happening or what they should be doing. He looked around the room at the people stationed in front of monitors and could tell by their demeanor that they were as lost as he. He wondered if it was only a test but doubted the government would go to such measures. “How long before impact?” the general asked.
    “Four minutes, thirty