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Michael S. Pauley, Author

Book 2, Ch1. Section 3, part 2

8/11/2014

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I was just discussing my decision to retire, for the second time in my career, with my bride, Leah, when the red alert phone went off in my quarters.  I have to admit that it caused me to jump about halfway out of my skin, since the damn thing hadn’t rung since the last test of the system almost three weeks before.  I caught it on the third ring, and it was the Operations Duty Officer of the Day, Colonel Feldman.  “Sir, we have three extremely large bogies headed towards Earth, passing Jupiter on a course that we believe is inbound.”

            “Colonel, what do they have for a possible ETA?”

            “Sir, in about 36 hours, they should be in orbit.  It appears that they are slowing down, and are coming from a course direction that is not entirely consistent with the prior tracks of the Gomers.”

            “Okay, Colonel, assemble the staff, and you can update us in about 25 minutes in the War Room.  In the meantime, get the information to the White House, and set up a conference call with the President.  I should be at your location in 10 minutes.”

            “Yessir.”

            “Oh, and Colonel, activate the initial alert system, and get messages out to the major commands and all senior commanders that we might be getting company, and to act in accordance with the Alert Plan Yellow.”

            “Yessir.”  With that, I hung up the line and immediately started out the door towards the War Room which, given our Allied Headquarters set up, was only about 8 minutes walking distance from the front door of my quarters.  As I was leaving, my wife stopped me, “Mike, is that what I think?” 

           

            “I’m afraid so....”

            “Crap, should I call your mother, Christine, and Holly to get them over here?”

            “It shouldn’t be anything that eminent, but yeah, you might want to circle the wagons and we’ll see what we need to do over the next few hours.  If nothing else, you can get them in the mind set to move in a hurry, just in case it becomes necessary.”

            “Okay. . . . . .  Honey?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Please be careful, remember the last time you wandered off to Hawaii?  It took you months to get all the chunks of metal and concrete out of your hide.”

            “Very, very, funny!  Now can I go and see what the hell is going on?”

            “Yeah, sorry.  I love you!”

            “I love you, too, sweetie!”  I planted a kiss on her cheek and then turned on my heel.  “Honey, you know I’ll be home later, don’t you?”  She responded by smiling, and I headed on out the door to the unknown of what could be another huge problem for all of us.  This time we were at least semi-prepared, but that was little comfort, since facing the unknown is seldom something you can plan with any effectiveness.

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    Author

    Michael S. Pauley is a Navy brat and an old soldier who served in all three components of the United States Army. Living in Lexington, South Carolina, Michael is now a practicing attorney and member of the United States Naval Institute and the American Legion, Post 154, Tybee Island, Georgia.

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