00:00:14 01 SEPTEMBER 1979 CMD Roberts

Sleep escaped the commander at the late hour. The stress of what was coming kept dreams away. His mind battle against a constant fear of the unknown. It was always there. Battle after battle against foreign enemies had hardened his exterior, but there was always that inner struggle that failed to find peace. He persevered though and continued to excel where others faltered. This led him here. The powers that govern felt it was necessary to relocate his family to a backwoods base in Southern Indiana. A large forest complex called Crane Naval base, named after some famous sailor that the commander only recently learned about. Why? They say it was of utmost national, no of global security. He was chosen to command a new squad of men, even given a promotion of Commander to do so.

His cigarette burnt to the butt and he quickly found another to replace it. His eyes were bloodshot behind heavy rimmed glasses. Manila folders filled with personnel dossiers were strung out on his red maple desk. A normally pressed uniform looked to have been wadded up in a ball and thrown back upon his tired, dejected body. Sleep would have been preferred, it would of helped him look presentable in five hours. Five hours and a row of men and women he had never met. He would eventually lead them into this an unfortunate mission that brought them all here. But yet, he must look presentable, pristine and confident.

A cloud of smoke followed his hand as he took out several more dossiers. Fourteen men and one woman – brow rising, that a woman was chosen for such a top secret mission. Corporal Mia Jensen, a thirty four year old Norwegian national with minimal combat experience, brought to him as a heavy weapons expert. “I cannot believe this,” he sighed, leaning back. The soft glow from the desk light pushed shadows away from his face. He read more closely, discovering that the Norwegians sent him a special specimen. Her physical test were outstanding, her scores higher then every other man in her last unit. “Let’s just hope she can hit something with that machine gun.”

Sergeant Dolf Schmitz, a twenty-nine year old sniper, was the next dossier and the ranking enlisted personnel in his new command. He looked nothing more than an average soldier; did they expect him to win with this rabble? Sergeant Dolf’s bravery had already been questioned many times in the training fields, “Perhaps Sergeant Doof is more acceptable.” He quirked a smile until he realized he was being childish. He would give this West German the respect he was due, even if was just a relations stunt.

“Honey, are you coming to bed?” Mia surprised him with her soft voice standing at the doorway of his study.

A stab of agony pierced his heart. The love he felt for his wife was undeniable, but he agonized over the burdens his work had to weigh on her. He could not share his stress of the mission with her. It would only worry her and he could not have that beautiful face tarnished with worry. He nodded to Mia, relinquishing the lights of the office, “Yes, honey. Let’s go to sleep.” He lied. There would be no sleep for him. The threat of an invasion corrupted any thoughts of peaceful sleep, an alien invasion – a living nightmare.

An hour later he found himself back at the desk, eyes just as blood shot as they were earlier, mind racing the same speed. He noticed the ash tray was overflowing with butts and decided it was good time to add another to the pile. The phone rang. It was an eerie chime against the backdrop of complete silence. He stared at it for several moments and took a deep breath.

“The invasion has begun, commander.”

This early? This could not be happening now. The men, the base, the entire mission was not prepared. He was not prepared. He choked out a cough. “What do we know?” He managed to say after regaining control of his lungs.

“An unidentified flying object has been discovered on our radars, commander. The craft’s current position is three hundred miles north east of Quebec City, heading in the direction of the city, commander.”

“Affirmative. Scramble the jets and raise red alert for the base. I want Sargent Schmitz’s team armed and ready by zero-four o’clock.”

He barely heard the other voice acknowledge his command before he put the phone down. Cigarette butt to join the others, a new pressed uniform, a kiss, and a goodbye.

04:01:02 01 SEPTEMBER 1979 CPL. Jensen

The flashing lights woke her. She was alone in the living quarters as the rest of the men did not feel comfortable sleeping and changing near a woman. She was used to this treatment; men had acted strangely around her ever since she was a little girl. It didn’t matter. They were strange to her as well.

Waking up alone was a cold pill to swallow in a new environment, especially when that environment was berating you with red flashing lights and an ever droning siren. That’s when it was best to remember your training and react. Within two minutes, her bunk was prepared and a full working uniform was donned – boots tied and all.

Two hours later and a lot of waiting, standing, and questions, Commander Roberts finally arrived along the tarmac. He walked like a man on a mission, straight and tall – a strong American jaw and the finest pressed uniform she had ever seen.

He salutes Schmitz at the front of the formation and the Sargent quickly falls back into rank. Everyone was on edge as the Commander looked over them. Bloodshot but yet calculated eyes. She also noticed the dark rings that hung under the Commander’s eyes; they were the only imperfection of a presentable man. Her legs quivered in anticipation, something they hadn’t done since her first days of basic training. They were actually rattling with fear. What was she afraid of, this was nothing that she wasn’t used to? How were the others holding up? Were they as nervous as her? She strained her eyes to the right, searching for Kucera. He was a man that treated her with decency and someone she felt she could trust.

Before she could find the younger man, the commander’s voice sent echoes over the small proceeding. She flinched and her vision leapt back towards the front. She had to remind herself to remain calm and remember protocol.

“Good morning, team,” the Commander says, his eyes sweeping the crowd with the prowess of a politician, “I wish that this first meeting could be held on different terms, but sadly that cannot be. From all over the world you were sent to us, specialist of your craft and heroes of your countries. You were all sent here to do what no others could. You were sent to thwart an invasion the world has never seen, an invasion from an unknown foe, a foe from the stars, an alien foe.”

“This morning you will all be asked to face this enemy. At oh-two hundred hours, a signature was found on our radars. The craft was intercepted and destroyed; crash landing in small suburban area. In ten minutes, debarkation protocol will begin and you will become heroes to not only your nation, but also protectors to this great world.”