Lost in Magadan: Extraterrestrials on Earth

A few days ago, his contact told him not to worry about killing the General because it looked like he was going to succumb to his injuries. Dale’s spirts were rising, he hoped he could avoid murdering innocent people, maybe his bosses could find another task for him. He had been in Bad Nauheim for over a month now, planning the General’s demise. During the last month, he had met an Army nurse, and they had hit it off. Elizabeth was from Bedford, Virginia and they had spent almost every evening talking about their futures. Of course, he had not mentioned his encounters with extraterritorial or his emerging career as a government hitman.

An hour before noon, Dale left his desk and stepped outside into the blistering cold to smoke a cigarette. Half-way through his smoke break, an officer, wearing a heavy trench coat, approached him. He did not recognize the officer as he walked directly towards him. Dale snapped to attention and gave a salute when he realized it was a Colonel that was standing before him.

“At ease soldier,” the Colonel said, vapor forming in the air as he spoke. “Sergeant Matthews, I presume?” The Colonel was of average height with a muscular build, his face wore the signs of many sleepless nights. Dale suspected that he had earned his wings the hard way, and was capable of handling himself in any situation.

“Yes, Sir,” Dale said as a knot started forming in his throat. He was certain that an unknown Colonel looking for him could only mean one thing.

“General Bartlett sent me,” the Colonel said staring directly into eyes, looking for recognition. Apparently, Dale’s countenance dropped, showing the Colonel what he needed to see. “It’s time.”

“I thought we were going to let nature take its course,” Dale said weakly.

“That was the plan. Unfortunately, he showed signs of recovering today. The doctors said he could go home, soon. That we can’t have.”

“Damn,” Dale muttered.

The Colonel continued, “I understand you have already familiarized yourself with the hospital, and you are ready?”

“Yes, Sir. I’ve been there several times, posing as a doctor. They have come to expect me from time to time. I have a good report with the guards,” Dale said, somewhat proud of the work he had done. This was his first assignment as a spy, now to be an assassin.

The Colonel smiled and said, “Good work. Have you talked to the General?”

“I have. Not much though, only to introduce myself as one of his doctors, and small talk.”

“That’s good. You don’t want to get too familiar with your victims. Remember that Sergeant.”

Dale nodded his head, “yes sir.”

The Colonel pulled from the right pocket of his trench coat a small canvas bag and handed it to Dale.

“What’s this?” Dale asked, his voice cracking with surprise.

“What do you think it is, soldier? It’s a hypodermic needle. How did you think you were going to kill the general? With a machine gun?”

“No. I figured I would strangle him or something,” Dale said, trying not to sound stupid.

The Colonel shook his head, “Damn. You got a lot to learn, kid. This is special cocktail of drugs that were designed just for the General. They will cause his blood to clot, eventually he will die of a stroke or heart attack. Most likely, they will never detect the presence of the drug in his system.”

“Most likely?” Dale asked.

“Yeah, you never know with these things. But I have been assured that the chances of detection are very slim. He will die slowly. You will be long gone by the time the doctors even realize there is a problem.”

“So, when do I administer the dose?” Dale asked, trying to not allow his voice to crack or tremble.

“Now. As soon as we end this conversation, you need to be on your way to Heidelberg. Matthews, did you really kill a Large Gray with your bare hands?”

“No. I used a knife,” Matthews said as he made an upward hand gesture with an imaginary knife in it.

“No shit?” The battle-hardened Colonel looked impressed.

“I had help from my squad, another guy hit it with a carbine,” Dale added.

“Well, Damn. Good for you, and the rest of your squad?”

“Didn’t make it, Sir. I was the only survivor.”

“Tough break, son.”

“Colonel, what should I call you? I didn’t catch your name.”

“You shouldn’t call me. Ever,” the Colonel said as he turned and walked away, his boots crunching in the light snow fall.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

William Lee is a life-long Virginia resident and student of history. After graduating with a degree in political science and philosophy, he worked on several congressional campaigns and remains interested in politics. He loves reading books about politics, American history, conspiracy theories, science fiction, and spy thrillers. He and his wife enjoy the outdoors, shooting sports, camping, hiking and kayaking. Please direct any correspondence with the author to: williamlee73@gmx.com or https://www.facebook.com/williamlee1973/

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine