Crash……..

 

Maria glanced over at the others doing homework at the next booth at the Crashdown. She noted that Liz was playing footsy with Max under the table, but she drowned out the conversations, too caught up in her own thoughts.

Depression. She was definitely depressed. This was the worst bout of it in years. Usually this type of depression was associated with her mother’s failing relationships, but for once, this had nothing to do with her mom. It was Michael. All Michael. He still hadn’t spoken to her, and he was actively avoiding everyone, even Max. He had even  suggested that Max find another place to flop.

It was depressing to see him so aloof and far away, so untouchable.

At that moment Michael walked in with an armload of boxes for the restaurant, and his steps faltered when he saw Maria looking at him but then he stalked off into the back room.

“No?” Liz asked softly to Maria who shook her head giving an exasperated sigh. No. He still hadn’t talked to her, and at this rate, she was wondering if he ever would. Depression? Maybe her heart was broken? Her mother was gone, too afraid of Roswell , now setting up a new life in Las Cruces , and Michael was an untouchable. She was lonely, sleeping in a silent house, unable to stop her brain from obsessing.

“What?” Max said confused.

“Still no apologies from Michael,” Liz whispered. Maria didn’t comment. She didn’t want an apology, even if Liz thought she deserved one. Michael had done nothing to her, not really. She just wanted him to talk to her, to quell her fears, be her friend again.

“… bah …” said Max, unsure why it was so important right now, at this moment. Michael was still reeling from the incident. Time. He would get better.

“Hey,” interrupted Kyle, “you know that king-thing tattoo on Michael's chest?”

“That's gone.” Liz said offhandedly, staring at Max. “Max is king, now.”

Maria rolled her eyes. Yeah, great fucking improvement, but obviously it was important to Liz, after all she was holding off on getting involved with Max again … but now that he was king again, she conveniently forgot her caution as her foot was moving all over him. Alien kingship. Good riddance in her mind. Let Max keep it. He obviously was accustomed to making bad decisions, and unlike Michael, he rarely had any remorse for the consequences of his actions.

“I know, I know.” Kyle said waving off the whole king thing. Who frickin’ cared? Did it come with money, prestige, or even power? “But what I was going to say is, that maybe Michael can get, like, ‘I'm eternally sorry’ tattooed there instead, and just flash it every half an hour, regardless? Saves time, cuts stress...” He turned to Maria. “Do we know the faux pas?”

Maria shrugged. She had more pressing things on her mind. First and foremost, she might need to go back on antidepressants. She wasn’t sleeping at night.

Liz answered for Maria. “He, uh, threatened her life saying anyone that knew about the alien thing should be taken care of, shoved her out of a moving vehicle and left her in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night,” Liz listed the grievances adding, “without a shirt.”

Michael stormed out of the kitchen, tired of listening to them talk about him. “The car was stopped! And I never threatened to kill her!”

Maria frowned not wanting to be part of this fight. She was sick of fighting. It made her stomach hurt … not a little, but a lot. “You suggested I'd be better off if I was dead, and Jesse, and everybody else who knows about your little ‘secret’ …” Maria reminded him, wanting to smooth over the edges, explain how Liz was coming up with those conclusions.

“It was just a suggestion.” Michael said, his anger hitting a new level when everyone gave him a skewed look at his response. He could feel the need to be defensive, to defend his own nature, and he hated that. “Why am I always apologizing to you guys about who I am?”

“That wasn't you, Michael!” Maria finally fully entered the fray. There was a lot to Michael, but he wasn’t totally without conscience.

“Yes, it was me. Max was dead, I was king. I did what I had to do.”

“Fine.” Maria didn’t want to argue, but when she had kissed him … she felt him, and he had been different. He had been Michael, but there was a difference there as well. Usually she saw him in color, vivid and alive … but the Michael she kissed in the Jetta had lacked color, and his aura had been black, dark and lacking real light.

“I'm not sorry about it, either.”

“Fine!” Maria snapped, tired of it, all of it. He wouldn’t talk to her, and this was it? Now not only was she no longer on his side, but he was pushing her into the category with the others. Him against them. It was lonely out there on your own, and Maria was horrified that he was choosing it over everything they could’ve had.

“No, I'm not sorry.” Michael said more to himself as if he was trying to convince himself as he walked off towards the door.

“Fine,” said Maria, feeling a need to cry. Her face was stark and drained of color, her lips and eyes the only sign of life.

Michael saw that. He saw how haggard she looked. Sleep, or the lack of it, was wearing on her, and she was obviously unhappy. Unable to change that, or even knowing how to start, he slammed the door hard on his way out, breaking the glass. Everyone looked shocked and concerned. Maria could only shake her head.

She wanted to give him space. It was always the best way. Michael always found his own balance, his own level, and it took time. Maria wondered if she could hold on that long … long enough to give him the time he needed to find himself, find something to even it all out. Her hands were shaking, from what, she couldn’t say. Rage? Anger? Fear? Loneliness.

Kyle made a snorting noise. “Damn, he’s out of control!”

“God, my dad is going to …”

“Shut up!” Maria said to them all. “Just shut up! Stop dissecting him like he’s a freak! He never asked to have that damn crest transferred to him. And I for one, am glad it’s gone. Whatever it was … I think it’s corruptive.” She was too tired to stand. She was going home. Maybe take a nap, but more than likely, she was going to stare at the ceiling.

“Maria, we didn’t mean …” Liz said, trying to calm her friend down. Maria was on an edge, a sharp one. Anyone could see that.

“Yes, you did. You always do! Michael is accountable for everything. Why did he get the crest? Because Clayton Wheeler had evidence that there was an alien that could heal. He suspected Michael, and it cost Michael his friend, Monk. What gave Clayton Wheeler his first evidence about a healing alien? Your uniform, Liz! Why the hell didn’t you burn it? Or … the miracle children from Christmas. Who healed them? Who proved to Clayton that a person was available possibly to heal him of his diseased state? Michael only got the job at Meta-Chem for one reason, they were looking hard at him … he was exposed because when he went with Max on his little guilt trip. He was photographed in the hospital, and didn’t even know it. How about Burns? Do you happen to remember another person … persons running around last year robbing convenience stores, stealing alien diamonds … looking for a son that they’ve now all but forgotten?” Maria laid it all out clearly. “Who exposed him, Max? Who died because of that exposure, causing the crest to transfer? Not Michael. He was an innocent in all of this, but I’ll tell you one thing. He’s right about one thing … he was a better king.”

Maria saw the shocked disbelief on their faces.

“He was. He knew what had to be done to ensure survival. He didn’t apologize for it, or back away. He never faltered or teetered in indecision. King Michael was everything an alien king should be. Maybe by our human standards it wasn’t what we wanted or wanted to see, but for an alien? I think he was probably exactly what he was programmed to be.” Maria took off her apron. “Why should he apologize? When did you ever, Max? Did you ever say you were sorry for Alex? Tess? Saving Liz, exposing Isabel and Michael? When have you ever felt the need to apologize for anything, even if it meant climbing on a ship and leaving Liz forever? I counted at least twice that you almost did that.” Maria was out of there. “Keep your damn crest … be the king of whatever the hell it is that the stupid title comes with, because here on planet earth, it means nothing. You are so much better suited for it. In truth, Michael is too good for it. It did nothing but lessen him.”

They sat there in silence as the back breakroom door swung shut behind her.

 

~~~

 

Michael was out in the desert, using a twig to make holes in the dirt in the V-shape of the royal seal of Antar. He tossed the stick, kicking the dirt with his foot. He was of two natures, and a large part of him wanted that crest back. It had felt good. Right. A master of his own destiny, and not a pawn, it gave him something … something he didn’t know he was missing. Confidence.

He sighed heavily. It was over. All of it. Being king. His friendship with Maria. Gone. He regretted both, especially Maria. He abused her, and how he could walk back in the door after that, he didn’t know.

Getting on his bike, he was heading home. There was only so much avoidance he could live with, and he really needed to talk to Maria, if not for his sake, than hers. She looked terrible.

Michael frowned when he had trouble starting his bike. There was a loud noise in the sky above him. Looking up, he saw two bright objects streaking across the night. They collided, exploding in midair as the remains hurled to the ground, each crashing separately in bright fireballs, one blue and the other red. Suddenly Michael’s bike started up. Frowning at his bike for a moment, he kicked it off, riding towards the crash site.

He could see the crash site from a high position as he rode towards it. There was a parachute lying on the ground amidst the burning wreckage of an Air Force jet. Michael slowly dismounted his bike to walk around the site. Searching the parachute ejected pilot’s chair he found a helmet with the name on its side. Standing, Michael searched the area around him looking for the pilot.

Griffin ! You okay?!” There was no answer as Michael kept searching circling the crash site. “Hey! Anybody?!”

Michael turned into the distance at the sound of approaching vehicles and a helicopter. They were military vehicles, and the helicopter was overhead searching with a light. 

Oh damn! Michael rushed to his bike. He couldn’t be here! He tried to start his bike, but it wouldn’t turn over. Nervously licking his lips, he looked over his shoulder at the fast approaching vehicles. Finally the engine started and Michael sped off, putting distance between him and the military types.

 

~~~

 

A crash in Roswell was a big event. The famed crash of ‘47 put the small cow town on the map. It was big news and big business. Liz’s father, Jeff Parker was fast to replenish his supplies and mark up all his merchandise for the in rush of alien junkies.

Liz sat in uniform at the counter watching the news report while Mr. Parker enlisted Max’s aid in bringing out more merchandise from storage.

“ ...stimulate Roswell 's dwindling tourist business, local officials are downplaying the entire incident. As of right now, our inquiries to the national transportation and safety ...”

“Anything yet?” Jeff asked his daughter.

“They're downplaying it.”

“Even better,” said Jeff with a huge smile, “… make it look like a cover-up. And Max, thanks for helping. Would you mind re-marking those prices?”

“Uh, sure. What do you want them to be?”

“Double everything.”

Liz frowned at her father as he put Max to work on alien souvenirs. “I can do it, Dad.”

Jeff shook his head gesturing to Liz and Maria, both in uniforms ready to work. “No! You two have to be here to handle the rush.”

Maria who was brooding, lost in her own thoughts finally registered the conversation. Looking up, she said incredulous, “The rush?”  She really hadn’t time for this. Spaceboy had been AWOL all night.

“Yeah!” The business man in Jeff Parker was inspired beyond glee. “Oh. You're too young to remember. Back in 1986 there was another ‘unexplained incident’ outside of town. This place went wild!” Jeff suddenly remembered something.  “Oh, Max, there's a box of neckties, the alien neckties, in the backroom near the … mustard containers. D'you mind?”

“No problem.” Max was off again to conquer the back storage area.

Liz watched Max walk off and cleared her throat. “Umm … I don't think they're there any more.” She quickly followed as her father became engrossed in the newscast as he gestured to it with a 'look at this, now' gesture to Maria.”

“ ...get ready to our news conference. From what I'm told, Major Pete Carlson, from the United States Air Force, will be conducting the briefing this morning, although they have yet to claim responsibility ...”

“Unexplained.” Jeff told his captive audience of one, Maria. “All he's got to say is it's unexplained. An ‘unexplained incident’. An ‘unexplained encounter’ … Call it ‘unexplained’ and those UFO freaks will be flooding this town … and we'll be swimming in cash!!” he exclaimed gleefully, with entrepreneurial fervor. Maria gave him a look. He was whacked. Certifiable. She shrugged, shaking her head. No worries. She had seen that same gleam in her mother’s eyes too often to call Belleview yet.

Jeff noticing how unimpressed Maria was, searched for his daughter. Only just realizing she had vacated the area with Max, he yelled to her in the back. “Liz!! Can you give me a hand out here??”

Liz voice called out from the back area. “Coming!” Maria bit back a smile as Mr. Parker looked at his watch. No! He was going to time her! She lifted an amused brow when Liz came rushing back into the restaurant with the box of ties, quickly kissing her dad’s cheek sitting next to him and Maria to watch the newscast.

Max, who watched Liz leave, barely had time to breathe as Michael came through the back door.

“Hey …” Michael said drawing Max away from his Liz watching.

Turning, Max frowned at the disheveled Michael. “Where have you been?”

“Investigating a potential threat to our existence.”

Max sighed guessing correctly. “You were in the desert?”

“All night.” Michael confirmed. “Ah … you couldn't see much. They got perimeters around the perimeters out there.”

“Leave it alone.” Max told Michael.

“I …” Michael stopped. It hadn’t taken Max long to forget he wasn’t his boss or king. “Max, are you nuts? I saw it. It killed the engine on my bike. It went right over my head.”

Max was interested despite himself. He promised Liz he was only interested in one thing … her, but this was too hard to ignore. “What'd it look like?”

“Like a really great sci-fi special effect. Only real.”

“It was probably an Air Force jet.” Max told Michael needing it to be nothing alien, nothing distracting.

“How do you know?”

“Word's out. Unofficially.” Max told Michael as he walked away towards the lockers.

“Yeah, Max, I could tell you an Air Force jet was involved, but the question is, in what?”

Max turned back slowly, warning Michael off, forgetting that he wasn’t the king, and he wasn’t the boss. A lifetime of ordering Michael around was too difficult to alter. “Look, we're too exposed right now. Especially with Jesse.”

“At least he came through.” Michael was still surprised that Jesse killed Burns to protect Isabel.

“He killed a federal agent. And right now, the last thing we need is some bona fide alien from another world who's looking for trouble.”

Michael couldn’t believe Max. All these years, with all that had happened from Alex dying to his own White Room experience, and Clayton Wheeler, and Max was still an idiot. When did Max hiding his head, hoping it wasn’t so, ever work or ever protect them? If there was a bona fide alien out there, crashed and looking to get jiggy with it, pretending or avoidance wasn’t going to make them magically disappear, just because Max didn’t want to deal with it. Maybe it was better to see trouble coming rather than have it ambush you.

“You scared I might find something?”

Max clarified. “… I'm terrified they'll find you.”

Michael rolled his eyes, and turned to leave. “Then I'll handle it.” He walked out the door, leaving Max frustrated and apprehensive with him.

 

~~~

 

In the dining area, Maria and Liz were on one side of the dining area, working with the ties, while Liz's dad was up near the counter, where he and some customers were watching the news on TV.

Liz glanced at Maria. They had barely spoken since Maria lost it on them after Michael had left. “Did you talk to Michael?”

Maria shook her head. “He was gone all night.” She sighed looking at the ties with little green alien men. “He’s not talking. I know he will when he can, but it’s hard. My mom is gone to Las Cruces . The store here is all but sold. Michael isn’t talking. I’m …” Maria went quiet. She didn’t want to confess to be alone, upset, and really afraid, but there it was in a nutshell … all she was feeling.

“He’ll come around, Maria.” Liz cleared her throat. “One thing I’m coming to accept is that he is your best friend, and you’re his. He won’t walk away from that.” Liz didn’t finish what she wanted to say. Michael wouldn’t walk away from Maria like Liz did when she fell in love with Max. “I wish I still had that kind of relationship with you.”

“Liz …” Maria didn’t know what to say. Michael was different with her than with others, and she knew most of them didn’t understand that. “Liz, we’re still best friends.”

“It’s okay. I understand that your feelings for Michael have changed, and I hope you someday get to tell him that.” Liz smiled, a part of her sad that she didn’t have that same type of relationship with Max. All they ever had was their love. They went from being strangers to being in love, and it didn’t allow for much in the area of friendship building. There was always too much between them, too many expectations, and too much pain.

Maria and Liz both looked over at Jeff’s voice talking to the television. “Come on … ‘unexplained’ … ‘unexplained’, baby … one little word … I'd even take ‘unknown’! Come on, say it … Say it!”

On the TV, reporters waited as Major Carlson approached the podium.

“Major Carlson,” asked a reporter, “was it a UFO last night? Can you tell me, was it a UFO?” Major Carlson walk past the reporters, followed by a young woman Air Force Cadet. “… or a test flight?”

The TV Reporter turned to talk to the camera and the viewing audience. “We're not going to get many words from right him now. Stepping up to the podium and the microphone right now is Major Carlson, who is expected to confirm what most people in Roswell have already heard through the grapevine, that the UFO seen last night was an Air Force jet on a cross-country test flight that apparently experienced …”

They watched as Major Carlson went to make his announcement.

“Contrary to some reports this was not, repeat, not, a UFO or an unexplained incident. This morning, at twelve minutes past midnight …”

Liz and her dad had been blowing up inflatable green aliens. When Jeff heard the news, he groaned and let his alien deflate balling it up in his hand.

“Ohh!” Jeff said in misery, “I think it's time for a going-out-of-business sale.”

“I'm sorry, Dad.” Liz hugged her dad. “Sorry.”

At the outdoor news conference, Major Pete Carlson was still speaking.  “… crashed nineteen miles northwest of Roswell , New Mexico . The jet was based at Edwards Air Force base in California .” Michael joined the crowd listening to the Major's speech. “… and was engaged in a cross-country test flight in night conditions. There were no weapons on board. The name of the pilot was Colonel Theodore Griffin. He is the one and only casualty in this unfortunate accident.”

Michael listened frowning at the incredulous account, obviously a lie.

Carlson continued. “That's all I'm prepared to say at this time, however, Air Force Cadet Connie Griffin, Colonel Griffin's daughter, would like to say a few words.”

Michael listened as the woman, a young cadet talked to the crowd. She told a little bit about her father and his death. Frowning, Michael almost walked away, but he couldn’t.

Speaking from the back of the crowd, Michael asked a question. “Excuse me, are you saying he didn't eject?”

Connie peered through the crowd seeing where the question came from. “No, he didn't have the chance to eject.” Before Connie could make any further comments, Major Carlson came forward ending the conference.

“That's all we have time for now. If we get any more information we'll let you know.”

Michael peered to his side to find a stranger staring directly at him. He looked away, but could still feel the man’s eyes on him. When he looked back, the stranger simply looked away. As Michael looked away again, the man returned to staring at him. Uncomfortable, Michael decided to leave. The stranger stared after him as he walked away.

 

~~~

 

Connie Griffin was drowning her sorrow. It seemed fitting to be in a room as rundown as the ones offered at the Pineview Lodge. Pouring a stiff drink on the rocks, Connie toasted her father’s memory before taking a drink from the plastic cup. It took a moment to register the creaking door as Michael walked into her motel room.

“You might want to keep your head clear,”  he suggested.

“Who the hell are you?” Connie stood up straighter, unwilling to show fear.

Michael ignored the question. “I believe your father's alive.” Reaching under his jacket, Michael pulled out the helmet he found in the desert. “He made it out of that plane.” He handed her the helmet.

“Where did you get this?” Beyond skeptical, she couldn't believe what she was holding. Stepping away from Michael, Connie examined the helmet.

“In the desert, about a half a mile from the crash site,” said Michael emphasizing the rest of it, “next to his ejection seat. But, he wasn't there.”

Connie frowned staring at the helmet. Suddenly, she whirled angrily to face Michael.” What kind of sick bastard are you, huh?”  Michael was taken back, puzzled by her reaction. “Really, where did you get this?? Some Army-Navy surplus? You buy some rub-on letters right after the news conference?”

Michael sighed holding his patience.  “There's something in the lining you may want to look at.”

Connie stared at Michael for a moment before she searched the lining. A photograph. It was on of her father holding her up as a child, like she is flying. On the back there was a child's scrawl, ‘Daddy’s Angel’. Connie released a sob, and began crying. Michael, uncomfortable, but not wanting to leave her alone moved towards her, speaking softly.]

“Hey … it's okay …” He put a hand on her shoulder in comfort much like he had done to Maria countless times, but she reacted differently.  To defend herself, she elbowed Michael punching him hard in the face as he bent over, holding his nose.

“Agh! Damn!”

“Who are you?” Connie’s angry tone and stiffly held body in attack mode was enough to make Michael stand back a little.

Michael swore under his breath, also angry. Hell, what was it with everyone always hitting him? What was he? A damn punching bag? “I just wanna know why they lied!”

“It doesn't matter.” Connie told him.

“What?” That made no sense. Her dad was alive and the government lied about it, and she didn’t care?

“Whatever is going on, they must be doing it to protect national security.” She explained to Michael as if she were talking to someone of challenged intelligence. “That's what they do!”

“They lied to you.”

“Whatever I'm told, they tell me for a reason.”

Michael couldn’t understand her. He never would understand unquestionable loyalty to an authority, especially to one that deserved no such regard. “Your father may still be alive.”

“Carlson wouldn't lie about that,” Connie said. Her father had to be dead.

“How do you know?” Michael asked a slight sneer moving over his face. Of course they would lie. He had reason to know how the government lied. “How do you know that?”

“Get out! Before I have you arrested for looting the scene of a military investigation. That's a Federal offense, buddy. You could go away for a long time.”

Michael could only shake his head. Hesitantly, he turned to leave. It was hard. For a moment there, she reminded him of Maria. Connie held the helmet as the door shut. Crying, she looked after Michael, wondering. Her father … alive?

 

~~~

 

Michael watched from a discrete distance as Connie Griffin met the officer from the press meeting. His curiosity was sparked, and after a lifetime of weariness of the government, he wasn’t as naïve as Connie believed him, or even as she was. Trusting he was not.

Michael swore under his breath when he watched Connie hand Major Carlson the helmet. Fool! Shaking his head, he watched her get in her car and drive away. Starting to follow her, he stopped for a moment when another man came up to Major Carlson.

It was the spectator at the press meeting. The man who took an interest in Michael.

Michael’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, and he followed the man discretely keeping far enough behind him to avoid being seen on his bike. 

 

~~~

 

Connie Griffin was driving down the road at night, when a vehicle started tailing her. She couldn't see much in her rearview mirror except glaring lights. The vehicle rammed her car. Pulling around her. it forced her off the road. The pursuer car screeched to a halt as her car rolled and crashed.

Connie was stunned, the whistling of sound still in her ears as she hung upside down held in place by the seatbelt. Struggling to get free, she cried for help

“Help me, please!” Sobbing, she pulled on the belt that had tightened on impact. “Somebody, please - help me - help - help me.”

Kneeling down, the man that had been talking to the Major and watching Michael peered into the car. He smiled. “Hey. It's a beautiful night. Just … try and relax … enjoy the desert air.”

Connie looked at the man with his smile, and she suddenly struggled even more crying out all the time, hoping for a rescue. The man stood up and placed a small timer device on the undercarriage of her car. He walked away as the device began to count down in seconds. Without sparing Connie another thought, he drove away.

As soon as the car cleared the road, Michael pulled up on his bike. Swearing under his breath, he rushed over to her overturned car. He knelt down to look in at her, to assess her status. She was alive and still trying to get free.

“Cover your face!”

Michael waited until she complied before using his powers to blast the door off its hinges. He reached in to get her loose. When they stood up, there was only twelve seconds left on the timer as it continued to tick down. 

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?” Michael feigned innocence.

“The door … how did you …”

“The crash loosened the hinges. Come on!” He dragged her out of there. There was only twelve seconds left on the timer that they didn’t know about.

“What?” She kept looking back at the car, puzzled, as Michael tried to pull her away.

“C’mon, I think we should get going …” There was only six seconds left. Michael pulled Connie further away, to his motorcycle.

“Wait a minute, how did you know I was …”

“I told you that you were being lied to. I had a feeling they'd try something once you turned that helmet in to Major-with-attitude.”

“You followed me?” Connie said in indignation, forgetting he just saved her from her car. “Who the hell do you think you …” Connie’s car exploded in a fireball cutting off her rant as both she and Michael hit the ground.

“Any more questions?” Michael asked glancing over at her shocked face.

 

~~~

 

Max and Liz were at Michael’s apartment studying. Liz had asked a few times if it was okay for them to be there, but Max shrugged it off. Michael hadn’t told him point blank to get out, so technically, he still lived there. Maybe.

The back door opened, and Michael suddenly walked in, his feet faltering as he saw Max and Liz in his apartment.

“Hey!” Michael swallowed his natural reaction to ask them what they were doing in his place, but he had other things to worry about at the moment. Max and Liz turned, looking over at Michael, who was with Connie Griffin. “This is Connie. Her father is the pilot of that crashed Jet. Air Force says he's a traitor on the run, but Connie doesn't buy it and neither do I. They tried to kill her.”

Connie glanced at Michael and the other two teenagers, uncertain, her voice still shaky. “Michael says he can help me.”

“Do what?” Max asks as he stood up.

“Find my father.”

Max walked over towards Michael gesturing to outside. “Talk to you for a second?” Max and Michael went outside into the back. “What's going on?”

“That's what we gotta try an' figure out.”

Max was more than a little exasperated. “What I'm tryin' to figure out, Michael, is you. I don't even know what to say.”

“That's why you gotta trust your second-in-command to know what's right.” Michael told him. He needed to do this. Max couldn’t understand, but he really needed to see this through.

“‘What's right"? What's next? JFK was killed by aliens? What's happening to you?”

“Me? What's happening to you?” Michael said in amazement. “We've got a major situation here and you don't seem to care.”

“What situation would that be? Her or you?”

Max turned to walk back into the apartment, leaving Michael speechless, incredulous. Michael reached out and dragged Max back.

“What, Max? Are you my boss again? What, if I’m out of control as you term it, you just gonna kill me? Put me down? You sit in my home … swear you aren’t my boss, and yet you use me, my home, and my friendship to your advantage, by your damn leave! Always the King! One that doesn’t chose to lead unless it personally interferes with his lame life. Maybe I need this? Maybe for once this isn’t about you?”

 

~~~

 

At the Crashdown, Maria sat two milkshakes down in front of the assassin, the man watching Michael and who tried to kill Connie, and Major Carlson. The assassin looked mostly unremarkable, like a 30s-something yuppie with medium brown hair, a receding hairline, a crooked nose, and a cold, bored expression. His dress was casual, a windbreaker, pressed blue shirt, and khakis. As always, Major Carlson was in uniform. His friendly-looking face under tight control as he focused on his duty.

“Ready to order?” Maria asked pleasantly, already regretting the extra shift she picked up to get over her Michael problems.

The man smiled his strange smirk, pointing to Carlson. “Major?”

“I'm fine with this.”

Maria nodded looking pointedly at the other man. “And …”

“Uh, could I have … a … penne pasta with chicken, sundried tomatoes … in a marinara sauce, please.”

“Ah, no … we only have spaghetti.” Maria already had a long day. Trying to be patient, she brushed her loose bangs back with the pencil she had in her hand.

“That's not what I want.” The man said frowning at the menu.

“What you want is the Olive Garden.”

Major stared hard at the assassin, intervening in his ordering. “He'll have a hamburger. Just bring him a hamburger.” At the edge of her patience, Maria nodded walking off.

The man leaned towards the Major. “I don't eat red meat.”

Ignoring him, the Major had more important issues to deal with. “Did you do it?” He sighed in relief when the man nodded then smiled. He was one sick man. He smiled as he takes a pull on the straw in his milkshake, a man that enjoyed his work. “Did you find anything in her hotel room?”

“No.”

“What about the helmet? Who gave it to her?”

“Kid named Michael Guerin. I ID'd him off a local news tape.”

“Are you sure it's him?”

“I will be, after I break a few of his fingers.” He smiled again. “This is a great milkshake.”

Back near the kitchen doors, Maria put some dishes in a pan giving a hard sideways look to the Major's companion.

“Sundried tomatoes …” She scoffed which turned into a gasp as Michael suddenly snatched and dragged her into the back kitchen area.

“We need to talk.”

“Ow!” Maria pushed his hands off her. “You should be slapped!” She straightened her uniform, not in the least bit pleased to see Michael. He had ignored her forever, then suddenly manhandled her. Before she could list her grievances, she turned to see Max, Connie, and Liz standing behind them. “Who's this?” What? He ignored her, then shows up with another woman. Maria’s eyes narrowed with deadly intent.

“Uh, ah … Connie Griffin.”

“Ohh!” Maria’s mouth rounded in sympathy. “You're the pilot's daughter, right?”

“Yeah, she's in trouble.” Michael told Maria, his hand unconsciously stroking the area he had gripped her. She bruised easily.

“My father's missing.”

“M-missing?” Maria said confused, she shook her head at Michael. “Isn't he …? The news has been saying that …”

“No, he's not dead.”

Max joined the conversation breaking the silent looks between Michael and Maria. “Michael says the man with the Air Force guy is a killer.”

Liz walked over to the kitchen door to look through the window at the Major and the assassin.

“Yeah, he ran her car off the road and tried to blow it up because she has proof the Air Force is lying to the public about her father.” Maria lifted a brow. He had been busy, and it somewhat upset her that he did it without her. Depressed, Maria went to look out the window with Liz after Connie nodded confirming Michael’s story. The entire group exchanged worried looks as Liz peers through the small door window.

“Come on guys, the Air Force is hiding something. Maybe a crashed UFO.” Michael said, needing a little help from the reluctant Scooby gang. Max  breathed in slowly looking over at Connie, who looked at him pleading.

Standing, Max nodded asking Michael, “What do you propose?”

“They're leaving!” Liz said over her shoulder.

The entire group walked over to watch the two men leave. As the two left the Crashdown, Michael and Max went out into the dining area to watch them further, through the main doors.

“I say we hook the small fish to hook the big fish.”

“Do you really think there's a ship mixed up in this?” Max asked quietly.

“I'm not sure, but I'm not sure it's important anymore, either.”

“So what is?” Max asked surprised by Michael’s answer.

“Doin' the right thing.” He needed that right now. Being King had left something in him, something dead … sick, and he needed it purged.

Max looked back towards the kitchen, where he could see the three girls looking out through the pass-through.

“Was there a collision?”

“What …” Michael was confused, he followed Max’s glance. “Between me and her?”

Max shook his head turning back, frowning at Michael's mistake. “Between her father's ship and a UFO.” Michael glanced over at Maria. “What, are you no longer interested in Maria?”

“Don’t be stupid. And, Maria is none of your business.” Michael told Max. “As far as the ship? Maybe. I dunno. You gotta help me.”

Max owed Michael that much, and he knew it. “We force the little fish to talk, and we're at risk. We may have to kill him.”

Michael was speechless for a moment. He hadn’t thought that far ahead, and he wasn’t sure his soul could take much more in the way of violence. He spied two decorative alien Halloween masks on a shelf.

“I got a better idea.”

 

~~~

 

At the Air Force base, Major Carlson walked into a secure room, where a man in a dark khaki Air Force jump suit lays chained to a cot with his head covered in a cloth sack. As he reached up to remove the sack from the prisoner's head, Carlson critically viewed the bruises on the prisoner’s face. He smiled at his old friend.  

Connie’s father, Ted Griffin blinked owlishly at the increased light. “Pete.”

“Ted.”

“So what now?”

The Major started to speak, but just said, “No more questions.”

Carlson shook his head. “No more questions …”

“Well, I got one for you.” It only seemed fair. He was a dead man anyway he looked at it. “Who was flying that thing?”

Carlson smiled and shrugged. “As soon as we figure out how to get the cockpit open, we'll have an answer to that question.” His smile faded. “… but I'm afraid you won't.”

“Because I'll be dead.”

“Actually …” Carlson walked to the end of the cot, picking up once of Griffin ’s chained feet, by the boot toe, he dropped it back down. “You already are.” 

“I never ejected.” Griffin guessed.

“No.”

“What does Connie think?”

“What the rest of the media-fed world thinks, that you … brought a malfunctioning billion dollar jet down into an unpopulated area to save lives.”

“And the guards outside my door?”

“They think you're a saboteur and spy. And they'd like to see you shot.”

Griffin nodded, grieved but resigned. “And here I am, just a guy who ran into a UFO.” God. A UFO in Roswell ! Who’d have thought?

“Well … we've got … protocol in these situations.”

“Protocol,” Griffin repeated. That was an awesome thought. That meant that the secret of alien conspiracy cover-up by the government was a true one. Amazing.

The Major covered Griffin ’s head again. “I'm sorry, Ted.”

Griffin groaned as Carlson put the sack back over his head and walked out. Angry but powerless, Griffin jerked the chains in frustration.

 

~~~

 

The assassin crept into Michael's dark apartment. Using a flashlight to look around, he was wearing latex gloves. The front door suddenly creaked back open, but the doorway remained empty. He pulled his gun in caution, frowning at the door. Cautiously, he looked around the place until his light fell upon two alien-looking figures standing in the corner. Before he could shoot, the gun was knocked out of his hand by an unseen power. It hit the wall with such force it knocked a hole in the plaster and embedded itself. The last thing he saw was an alien figure as it punched him.

 

~~~

 

The man was sitting in a chair. Max’s green energy force held his arms down. He couldn’t pull loose.

“Oh, my god …” He looked over to see the two alien figures watching him from behind the distortion of a bright green energy field.

“What do you want?” He asked angrily, his tone defiant. There was no response from the aliens. “What do you want?” He asked louder.

“Where is Colonel Griffin?” The first alien asked in a high-pitched distorted voice. No answer.

“Where is Colonel Griffin?” Alien two asked in the same high-pitched voice.

“I … I … I don't know who that is. Look, what is this?”

An alien extended a hand towards him, and suddenly he was spinning in his chair, so fast he couldn't see anything. As the man was spinning, the force shield dropped. Max and Michael were dressed in the Halloween masks and some sort of silvered reflective sheets. They turned behind them briefly, glancing at each other with a quick smile, to breathe out of some helium balloons before turning back to the man in the chair. Max put his force shield back up.

“Where is our ship?” Max asked.

The assassin gaped at them, gasping and speechless. Max gestured to Michael, raising his arm and moving his fist up and down. Yeah, the man was a total jack-off.

“Prepare the probe.” Max told Michael menacingly. Michael winced under his mask. Yeah, right, he always got all the shit jobs. Literally.

“Wait. I … wait … I … I swear, I … I don't know anything!”

“Where is Colonel Griffin?” Michael asked again. “Where is our ship?”

The man still refused to answer.

“We will get answers.” Max told the man as he walked towards him. The man took off spinning again.

 

~~~

 

It was early morning. The group had held up at the Crashdown after the interrogation. Michael had briefly told Maria about the interrogation as Connie listened, and Maria frowned, worried that maybe Max and Michael had a tad too much fun. Michael continued talking as he finished dressing in the assassin’s clothing barely glancing up at the stairs when Max and Liz came down. 

“They're gonna kill him.” Michael said, trying to tie the tie after another failed attempt. Maria brushed his hand aside and did it for him.

“What?” Connie’s voice raised in concern, and a touch of disbelief.

“He saw something and they need to get rid of him. A clean team is on its way to pick him up and take him to the desert.”

“I'm getting there first.” Max informed Connie. She glanced at Max finally seeing his uniform. It was a highly decorated high-ranking Air Force shirt, and Max was holding a beret.

“Where'd you get those clothes?”

Michael quickly interrupted before Connie asked to many questions. “We've got a plan.”

“You've 'got a plan'?” Connie looked at the four teenagers, shaking her head in disbelief. “No, no, no, no. We're talking about my dad, here. I'm not just gonna let some high schoolers…”

“Hey!” Maria said, taking offense at the diss. They weren’t just any ‘high schoolers’, they were experts. “We've had practice, okay?”

“Who are you people?”

“We're the good guys.” Michael reassured her. “Maxwell, we gotta go.” Michael headed towards the door.

“Yeah.” Max said to Michael as he looked at Liz. “You know where to meet us …”

“In two hours.”

“Right.” Max put on his beret. “Connie, we'll get him back. I promise.”

Max turned towards the door, but Liz reached out to touch his elbow.

“Hey, be careful. If there really is a spaceship, don't get on it.”

Max smirked. “Not a chance in hell.”

Michael stood at the door for a moment, his eyes meeting a quiet Maria’s. He walked back to talk to her. She was hugging herself, looking at him doubtfully.

“I’ve been away lately.” She nodded at that understatement. “There are things … things left unsaid, and I want to talk to you about them, but not until after this.” Michael glanced at the time. “Is that okay?” Maria nodded. Michael breathed in relief. At least she was still willing to talk to him. “By the way, I'm sorry for suggesting you'd be better off dead.” It was an apology he owed her, one that weighed on him.

Maria nodded and smiled wryly. She couldn’t talk, not now, there was too much she needed to say, and even more that she was afraid of saying. Shaking her head, she punched Michael on the shoulder.

“Go.” She said gesturing towards the door and Max. “Do a good thing.”

Michael gave that smile she liked, the one that was tenuous and shy. He started to walk away from her, but stopped to pull her in his arms, hugging her tight. He whispered in her ear, “I missed you.” Then he was gone, heading for the door.

Maria watched as Michael and Max left, Michael glancing one last time before he went through the door, a slight smile pulling on the edge of his mouth.

“They're going to need IDs to get on the base.” Connie told the girls as she bit on a fingernail in worry. Maria and Liz exchanged a knowing glance.

 

~~~

 

Diane Evans was in her kitchen making breakfast for herself and Isabel. With Philip and Jesse gone, Diane was able to talk Isabel into spending the night after a long day of shopping. Nervous about what she was doing, Diane made a huge breakfast. Pancakes. Isabel liked pancakes.

Diane called to her daughter. “Isabel? Honey, breakfast is almost ready!”

Isabel called back to her mother she would be there in a moment, she answered her cell phone. It was Jesse.

“Hello?”

“Did I wake you up?”

“No, I'm up …” Isabel sighed. It was good to hear his voice. “How are you?” She asked, her voice a little unsteady. He didn't answer, but she could hear a heavy sigh.

“Jesse …”

“Your father's asking questions.”

Isabel sat down on her bed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, he's on to you. He knows I'm covering something up. He knows it's something bad.”

“How can he know that?” They were careful. They covered their tracks.

“Because he's not stupid, Isabel.”

Isabel worried a nail, as her pretty face marred with worry lines. “What did you tell him?”

“I didn't tell him anything.”

Isabel was clearly upset as her voice wavered a bit. “When are you coming home?”

“We'll be back tonight.” Jesse’s voice paused over the phone. “Where are you?”

“At my mom's.”

“Is she giving you the third degree?”

“Yes.” Isabel breathed out in a whisper.

“It's just a matter of time. They're working on this together now.”

“Dammit … dammit!” Isabel didn’t want this to happen. She didn’t want to lose her parents like she was losing Jesse.

“It's just a matter of time.”

“I have to go.” Isabel disconnected her phone abruptly, leaving Jesse shaking his head on the other end of the line. He turned off his phone looking grim.

Isabel sat on her bed in a high state of agitation. Using her powers, she sent objects in the room flying around her in a whirlwind. In the kitchen, Diane heard strange sounds coming from Isabel's room. Going down the hall, she knocked on the door.

“Isabel? Are you all right, honey?”

With one flick of her hand, Isabel sent everything back to its rightful place. “Yes, mother, I'm fine.” Her voice lowering to a hushed whisper. “… just fine.”

Isabel walked out of the room never noticing on a shelf, hidden in a small gift bag, a video camera has been recording everything.

 

~~~

 

At Rogers Air Force Base, Max and Michael arrived in a van commandeered from the military with the help of the girls. Max was driving with Michael next to him wearing the assassins face as they were passed into the complex.

“It's up here, on the right.” Michael told Max from behind his mask. He was wearing a mask altered to appear as the assassin.

“Got it.” Max glanced at Michael. “Go check out the ship. If there is one.”

Michael paused before jumping out. “And if there're occupants?”

“We'll deal with it later. I got this.” Max located Connie’s father in a room under heavy guard. He used his fake credentials to get him into the room with a gurney, under it was the gagged and bound assassin. Liberating Griffin , they put the assassin in the Colonel’s place with the black bag over his head.

 

~~~

 

Elsewhere, still in disguise as the assassin, Michael walked around a secured area. From an observation booth, he looked down into a large hangar-like area which was buzzing with activity. There were several persons dressed in safe suits, working at various stations and equipment. There was a large area curtained off, with hanging sheets of plastic from the ceiling and personnel moving in and out of an area. 

Using an electronic pass card, he entered a room with a "Bio Hazard - Entry Prohibited" sign on the door. Walking past tables where various objects were being studied and tested, Michael saw a small object of interest. He palmed it and walked off.

 

~~~

 

Liz glanced at her watch one more time. It was almost time to leave, but the minutes were ticking down at an incredibly slow rate, or at least it felt like that. It didn’t help that Connie was nervous and worried.

“It'll be okay.” Liz told the young cadet.

“I should've gone with them.”

Maria squeezed her hand in comfort. “You would've been stopped.”

“They could die …” Connie told the two teenage girls, trying to stress the danger.

“They've had practice …!” Liz reassured her,

“Dying?”

“No,” Liz said quickly covering it up. “I meant, things like this.”

“Do things like this happen a lot around here?” Liz and Maria exchanged a look. Connie caught the look between the two friends. “Why don't you leave?”

“We've tried.” Maria told her, thinking of her New York trip and Liz’s two weeks in boarding school.

Liz shrugged. “No place like home.”

“If they get him out …” Connie started in a doubtful voice.

“They will.” Liz reassured her again.

“We won't be able to go home. They'll come after us.” Connie saw her suspicions were correct as Maria and Liz both looked at her sadly, neither of them denying it. Connie’s stature straightened. “Let 'em.”

 

~~~

 

At the base, Michael and Max rendezvoused. Michael was still in disguise, and Max was wheeling the cart back out, no body on top.

“Is there a ship?” Max asked Michael.

“There's a ship.”

“Dammit!” Max said as he and Michael opened the side door of the van.