Fiction: Enforcers, chapter 2

The blast threw me to the ground.

I propped myself up on my elbows and shook my head back and forth.  I might have muttered, “What was that?”

As I got back up, I looked over my right shoulder.

I know I yelled, “My god, you are one ugly creature.”

That metallic voice again, “He’s over here.”

Another two of the creatures came through the smoke and flames.  How do you describe ‘ugly.’  Especially when it is that ‘ugly.’

My first thought was of a stink bug’s body stood upright with arms and legs like a human.

Big.  Ugly.

I stood up.

They were headed towards me.

As I moved back towards the street.  They kept heading towards the restaurant.  Since they didn’t see me, I took a good look at them.

Almost seven-foot tall.  And well, they looked like standing lobsters.  They didn’t have ‘whiskers.’  But, they had a funny shaped head.  And they looked like funny colored crustaceans.

Huge bugs.

I ran.

I ran as fast as I could back to our office.  About one block.

When I got to the office, Tim Johnson grabbed me and took me to the wall.

He looked over his shoulder as he opened the wall safe.

He handed me a bag, and then he took out a second bag.  Out of that bag, he pulled out bundles of hundred-dollar bills and handed to me.

“Here is some more cash.  With what is in your bag, you should have about one-hundred ‘thou.'”

“Wow,” I said.

He dropped his bag, grabbed my shoulders, and looked me in the eye, “Get completely off the grid.  There is a drop phone in your bag, it has my number programmed.  It will take me days to respond, because I will be completely off the grid.  I will only turn my phone on once every three days to check messages, and send you a message if necessary.”

“Is it that bad?  Can’t we go to the police?”

“I think these guys already own some of the law enforcement.  And it is worse than bad, these guys … ”

I interrupted, “You mean those bugs?”

He let go of my shoulders, and bent down to pick up his bag, “Lets walk as we talk.”

I almost had to run to catch up.

“These bugs have infiltrated several world governments.  They seemed to have started in Africa.”

He looked down at me, hey, I am only five foot ten.

“Remember that bad ‘op’ in France where we lost twelve guys?”

“Roger that.  I lost my best friend there, Major.”

“These … ‘bugs’ were behind that hit on our guys.”

He opened the front door, looked around, and motioned me through.

“At first, we thought they were attracted to the violence.  But, after some deeper analysis, we think they are using the violence of terrorists to cover their movements.”

“Tim, cut the crap.  What ‘analysis?’  You know as well as I do, Intel is a 50/50 crap shoot when we understand the enemy.  How can we possible ‘analyze’ these bugs?  Do we even know where they are from?”

He was moving fast, and I was almost running to keep up.  We crossed a four lane street, and we both ran across.

“That big NSA complex in Utah?  Over one thousand employees, over one hundred thousand computers?

They are crunching all the data we have on these bugs.

We have an idea where they are from.

We believe they are here to ‘harvest’ humans and other ‘cattle.’  We think they use the bodies as a growth medium for their eggs.”

I had nothing to say.

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