Hello everyone. So the SZS are back and this time they are set for a wild west adventure. I embark on this next instalment with some trepidation because since my last offering I have been reading the work of my fellow fanfic authors and am blown away by the talent out there. I am really honoured to be among you and would be happy if the below offering is considered even half as good as the story's you are producing.
As always this is to remind you that I have basically drugged and kidnapped these characters from Tony Grounds and the BBC and will only release them once I have had my wicked way.
Your comments and feedback mean a great deal to me so please let me know what you think!
The radar scopes cast an eerie green glow in the small room, each circular screen displaying a rotating arm of light which constantly renewed a strange landscape of amorphous smudges and dancing dots. Senior Airman Aaron Leibowitz leaned forward in his swivel chair and scanned the displays with a critical eye. He then leant back and let his gaze wander from the central screen to the high heeled shoe located on the desktop just to the right of the radar vector. His eyes travelled from the shoe to the shapely ankle and calf above it, then upwards to the knee and connecting thigh which ended in a very satisfactory hip. This hip was crossed by a delicate silver chain which then traversed a taught lower stomach, just under a belly button adorned with a glittering ruby stud, before disappearing around the edge of the opposite, equally adequate hip.
The airman's visual inspection continued down the other leg and ended at the corresponding shoe on the opposite side of the radar scope.
"You ready Mary Lou?" He asked, an edge of excitement in his tone.
"Depends, have you deployed your landin' gear correctly airman?" Said the woman, who flexed her knees in anticipation.
"Oh, hold on" he said unbuckling his uniform trousers and pulling them and his boxer shorts down his legs and around his ankles.
"Come on honey, you know I can't stand heights" pressed Mary Lou impatiently.
Leibowitz sat back again and started to adjust the seat height and tilt of the backrest
"Jesus Aaron" said the woman, "what ya doin' now?"
"Just makin' sure I'm at the right pitch and angle. You know what happened last time, we got the telemetry a smidge wrong and I ended up in sick bay for a week and in a truss for three months...OK I'm ready...don't forget the call"
"God damn it I know what I'm doin'" and so saying the woman crouched briefly and then sprang with a shout of "Geronimo!"
Moments later she landed, legs splayed and with a sickening thud in the lap of the waiting airman who let out a howl of pain. The impetuous from the leap also sent the chair careering backwards on its casters and into the rear wall of the small room where it came to sudden stop, dislodging a shelf full of operating manuals which cascaded over both occupants of the chair. As the last sheets fluttered down, a loud pop issued from the chair, followed by a hissing sound which accompanied the slow descent of the seat towards the floor.
"Sounds like your pistons broke again" said Mary Lou
"Sure does" replied the airman in a feeble tone "Still" he continued "well worth it for a Q.S.C.F"
"Q.S.C.F?" Queried Mary Lou
Leibowitz grinned "A quality swivel chair fu..."
Just then an alarm sounded over by the work station. The airman stopped dead and scrambled to his feet before advancing towards the central radar scope at speed, getting his feet tangled in his trousers and boxers, which were still draped around his ankles, and falling flat on his face. Cursing Leibowitz crawled the rest of the distance and knelt by the work station whilst peering at the screen.
"Oh shit" he muttered whilst picking up a telephone handset and punching in a number. "Sir, this is senior airman Leibowitz in Pheonix sector. I have a bogey on the scope coming in low and at speed from the north west...No sir, no scheduled civil or military flights...hang on..." The airman tapped at a keyboard "Sir, its dropped of the scope...southern Rockys, 200 miles east of Fort Stockton...Yes sir." The airman replaced the handset and turned to Mary Lou.
"What the heck was that all about?" She asked
"We got a UFO come down somewhere in the desert of western Texas" he replied...
Just outside the small town of Marfa, west Texas, Zeb and Zac sat on the bonnet of a rusty pick up truck. They both had hunting rifles between their legs and sipped from beer cans whilst staring into the twilit desert landscape.
"Last darn pig would a bit me if I hadn't got that slug between his eyes" commented Zeb contemplatively.
Zac looked over at his friend "Do pigs even have any teeth?"
"Sure they do" replied Zeb "two big ones at the front"
"What like bugs bunny?"
"No not like fuckin' bugs bunny, like a big feral pig" said Zeb
"More like a Guinea pig..." Mumbled Zac
"What's that you say?" Asked Zeb suspiciously
"Nothin'" said Zac innocently before finishing his beer, crumpling the can and throwing it over his shoulder and into the back of the pick up. "C'mon Buffalo Bill lets see if we can't bag us some more big game".
As Zac slid off the bonnet he heard a sound like a low flying plane which grew louder and louder. He turned questioningly to Zeb "Sounds low...too late for Huck to be crop sprayin' ain't it?"
Zeb shrugged before looking up himself as the sound of the plane grew to a roar "Sounds too big for...oh shit!" He shouted and pulled Zac down to the ground as a small passenger jet passed less than fifty feet above their heads and headed into the desert night. When the two looked up again the plane had disappeared into the darkness but seconds later a distant rumbling and crashing left both men in no doubt as to the fate of the plane.
"Jesus Christ" exclaimed Zac as they dashed to the pick up truck and clambered inside. Zeb gunned the engine and then drove them at speed in the direction the plane had been heading.
The truck bounced across the trackless desert, its headlights briefly illuminating clumps of scrub and small boulders as it passed by. After a while Zac gestured at a point of flickering light in the distance "Over there".
As the truck got closer the light resolved into a burning engine and just beyond lay the dark mass of the main fuselage. Zeb stopped the truck and killed the engine. Both men then slowly climbed out the vehicle and scanned the scene.
Other small fires had started in the dry scrub surrounding the stricken plane casting a weak, wavering light in their immediate area and partly illuminating numerous pieces of scattered debris which littered the desert floor. One of these dark shapes shifted slowly and rose unsteadily, followed by another and then another. Zac walked towards the figures slowly "Y'all OK?" he asked uncertainly but to no response. He continued to approach them, straining to make out their features in the darkness but then stopped dead.
"What is it...what's the matter?" Called Zeb who still lingered by the truck.
Zacs shaking voice reached him from the edge of the wreckage "Oh god...Zeb get your gun, get your gun!"
Zeb grabbed his rifle from behind the drivers seat and jogged towards his friend who was backing away from the group of shuffling figures who where emerging from the crash site. As Zeb drew nearer one of the dark figures reached the burning engine and the flames illuminated its features for the first time. Zeb gasped as he took in the glowing read eyes and dripping mucus. In horror and panic he raised his rifle and let off a volley of shots, their sharp reports sounding across the dark expanse of the desert night...
Major Charles James stood on the balcony of his hotel suite and stared across the sparkling blue bay towards the Golden Gate Bridge. It was a perfect scene on a perfect day, one week into a perfect honeymoon with the girl of his dreams who was now his wife. James savoured the words as they echoed through his mind...Molly was now his wife...Molly James...he smiled to himself, then giggled, then threw his head back and laughed for the pure joy of it.
From the bedroom behind Molly called through "You're not laughing to yourself again are you, you nut job? I can have you put away you know, then I get to keep all your money"
James grinned "Ah yes lance corporal but what about all the great sex you would miss out on?"
Molly walked out onto the balcony in a flowing silk robe and smiled "Swings and roundabouts" she said and planted a fleeting kiss on her husbands cheek before moving over to the balcony railing and taking in the view. "No one at home would believe me but this is proper nice"
"What?" Said James
"Here. I've never seen anywhere so beautiful." Replied Molly
"Hang on" said James "I distinctly remember you saying something very similar about Afghanistan at one point"
Molly grimaced "Yer but here they got Wi-Fi and a Starbucks round the corner"
"Fair enough" smiled James
"Mind you, at least in Afghan we didn't have the majorettes" put in Molly
James' smile faded. Since Upton Park, James had acquired a large and active female fan base. They had been dubbed 'the majorettes' by the press and although largely an intelligent, sophisticated and erudite bunch, they were sometimes prone to a degree of silliness. On hearing that James was to honeymoon in San Francisco they had switched their inaugioural AGM from Bath to the city by the bay. Groups of them could now be found patrolling the down town area in their low slung combat trousers and mock head sets, acknowledging their fellow fans by making stag horns with their hands, and hoping to catch a glimpse of the famous major and his new bride. As a result the couple had needed to take some precautions in order not to be cornered and mobbed.
Molly had been very understanding but James had started to detect a certain strain in her forbearance. He had, therefore, resolved to organise a treat for her that afternoon. The previous day James had left Molly to nap following a particularly athletic session of 'how's ya father' as she endearingly termed it. He had made his way to the Union Square district of the city where the latest branch of Johnathan's had recently opened.
The owner of this hugely successful chain of lingerie shops, Johnathan Beck, was James' former CO and now a close friend. Everyone was raving about the new gentleman's range which he had just launched and James thought he would see what all the fuss was about. He had been served by an assistant called Frank who had recognised him immediately and insisted on showing him into a private fitting room reassuring James that "Johnathan has left strict instructions should you call in". James had then endured an excruciating half an hour as a procession of male models had paraded around the small room wearing the full range of men's underwear.
Each item had been inspired by a historic figure and included the Henry VIII, which incorporated a huge codpiece, the Lord Nelson, which was little more than an eye patch, and the Prince Albert which James couldn't even bring himself to look at. He finally plumped for the Antoine of Navarre which incorporated a leather brief fringed with fur and a short fur trimmed bocade jacket worn over one shoulder like a cloak and which Frank insisted on calling a pelisse.
These purchases were now at the bottom of James' wardrobe waiting to be donned as part of Molly's surprise which also included strawberries and champagne, shortly to be delivered to their suite by room service.
James surreptitiously checked his watch and casually told Molly that he was going to have a shower before walking quickly into the bedroom, grabbing the shopping bag from his wardrobe and disappearing into the bathroom. As he did so there was a knock at the door to their suite. " Right on time" thought James and called out to Molly to see who it was. James then quickly stripped off and struggled into the tight fitting briefs before clipping the pelisse around his neck and arranging it just so on his left shoulder.
"Charles" called Molly excitedly from the next room
"Coming!" He said with a smile. One final check in the mirror and he strode through the bathroom door and into the room beyond exclaiming "For I am Antoine of Navarre and I command that we quaff champagne before reparing to the bed chamber where I shall ravish you...oh shit!"
Charles stopped in mid declamation when the realisation hit him that Molly was not alone. In fact there where several extra people in the room he had not anticipated. One of the faces that was turned towards him with an expression of bemusement was Colonel Sherman Morley's, US military attaché to the Court of St. James and one of his best friends.
"Colonel" said James formally.
Morley cleared his throat uncomfortably "James. Can I introduce Howard Robinson the US Secretary of Homeland Security, General Crawford of the US Air Force, Robert Fraser the British Consul and Captain Dwight of the US Marine Corps"
James swallowed and shifted uncomfortably, causing his leather briefs to creak loudly.
"Excellent" he said "Could you just excuse me for a moment...Molly perhaps you could offer our guests some drinks?" A knock at the door then signalled the arrival of room service ..."and maybe some strawberries" he added before quickly walking from the room.
James emerging a few minutes later dressed in jeans and a shirt. Molly was passing around coffee and looked up at him with raised eyebrows. James shrugged and walked over to Morley taking his hand in greeting.
"Sorry about this James, but we have a bit of a situation. General Crawford, perhaps you could start"
The General put his coffee down and looked at Charles. "Major, on Thursday last at 1900 hours Pacific Standard Time our radar monitoring station at Pheonix, Arizona picked up an unidentified aircraft travelling low and at speed in a south easterly direction. We tracked it for a few minutes before it disappeared from our scope in the far south of the rocky mountains range and in the middle of the western Texas desert. Shortly after, local law enforcement in the town of Marfa, Texas received several calls reporting a very low flying aircraft heading out into the desert to the east of the town. When officers investigated, they found the wreckage of an aircraft some 3 miles out of town together with two locals in a parked pick up truck in a state of shock, jibbering uncontrollably about...zombies"
James, who had been sipping his own coffee as he listened to the General clattered his cup noisily into his saucer and looked over at Molly, who had turned to him at the same moment.
"Have we confirmation?" James asked the General but Secretary Robinson answered:
"There was one fatality in the crash, the pilot" and with that the man took out a photograph and passed it to James. It was of a body on a mortuary slab, turned on its side and with the back of its neck exposed. The telltale dark mass of tissue with radiating neural network could clearly be made out. James passed the photo to Molly who took it and started to examine it closely.
"If it was flying the plane it must have been high functioning...a Mark 2" he said and turned to Molly, who nodded in confirmation. "Did the survivors attack these two witnesses?" James went on.
"Both men said they approached them aggressively but that they scattered once they were shot at." Confirmed the General. " Since then we have had some reports of missing cattle and broken fencing but nothing significant. Looks like they have gone to ground. Meanwhile the witnesses have been hospitalised...to ensure we can keep a lid on this"
"How many zombies are we talking about" Asked Molly.
"From evidence on the plane we think between 10 and 12" replied Morley
"And their origin?" Put in James
"Unknown" said the General "There were no markings on the plane and no documents inside. Black box was removed before departure and all engine serial numbers removed. Whoever sent them wants to remain anonymous at this stage"
"What about the dead pilot?" Pressed James
"Of oriental origin, DNA testing is awaited but that won't necessarily tell us who organised this" Morley replied.
"Well" said James "I am sure Lieutenant Samuels will be able to assist..."
"Samuels and one section have been deployed to Syria on a mission James" said Fraser, who now spoke for the first time "The Prime Minister has asked you to take command of this operation."
James grimaced and looked at Molly who continued to stare at the photo of the dead pilot.
Morley shifted uncomfortably in his seat " I know this is terrible timing James but you know what sort of damage twelve Mark 2s could do in a very short time"
James did not take his eyes off of his wife, waiting for some sign of what was going on in her mind. Molly finally turned to James and stared intensely into his eyes before saying "We go where we are needed, sir. There will be time enough to finish our honeymoon once this threat has been dealt with."
James' heart swelled until he thought it would burst. He did not deserve such a wonderful woman.
"Thank you both" said Secretary Howard simply
Fraser then cleared his throat "Three section of the SZS are currently preping for departure and should be in theatre in 48 hours. The cover story on the ground will be that you are undertaking a joint training operation with a detachment of US Marines under Captain Dwight here"
Dwight lept to his feet and stood smartly to attention "Honour to serve with you sir"
"Nice to meet you too Captain Dwight" replied James
"Sir, yes Sir" replied Dwight
"And your first name captain?" Asked James
"Dwight sir" replied Dwight stifly
"No your first name Dwight" pursued James confused
"Sir, that is my first name sir...Captain Dwight D Dwight" said Dwight
James swallowed "And the D stands for.."
"Dwight, sir"
"Of course..." Said James who then turned to Morley with raised eyebrows
Morley gestured for James to follow him onto the balcony. When they were outside Morley looked at his friend and blew out " Listen James, from what I have seen of this case so far you are going to have to deal with a whole host of poorly realised American stereotypes drawn from a range of popular cultural references. You are just going to have to dig in and do what you are bloody good at. OK?"
James looked at his friend and nodded then added "Do you know what Jonathan's returns policy is?"
At the same time in a suburb of Los Angeles, a convenience store owner served one of his customers then turned to a small TV behind the counter. Suddenly a telephone beside the set began to ring. The shopkeeper picked up the phone and listened intently before replacing the handset, walking around the counter to the front door and locking it. He then turned the closed sign around so it faced outwards and walked into the small storeroom at the back of the shop where he took down a case from a high shelf. He snapped the catches and opened the case revealing a collection of firearms and combat knives nestling in custom made spaces cut into the sponge packing. Closing the case once more he carried it out into the shop and passed his wife, who asked where he was going.
"Marfa, Texas" he replied.