South Capital Street Heliport, Washington, D.C.

"So, what's the plan, Mr. Shepard?" asked David, taking a seat in the black minivan, which, as he had come to expect, was embellished solely with the copper and silver Cerberus logo, this time on the sliding door. Unlike any of the other minivans he'd ridden in, and having more in common with the custom vans of the 80s, this one had four individual seats, all facing the middle, with the driver behind a frosted black divider.

"This is a nice van, very comfortable," said Julius, taking a seat next to his son, and opposite Shepard, who was the only one sitting backwards.

"Thank you Julius, it's a bit more comfortable than a traditional limousine," Shepard said.

"Like your shoes," pointed at Julius, himself wearing sneakers with his sport coat and khakis.

"Exactly," confirmed Shepard.

"The plan?" asked David, as the van drove away from the heliport. David hadn't realized that there was one so close to the Mall, just at the south end of Capital Street, only a dozen blocks or so from the Capital itself.

"Well, you're the one with a relationship with Whitmore's Communications Director. I've got an appointment tomorrow, but I doubt that'll happen now," admitted Shepard.

"And how are you going to do that?"asked Julius, this time of his son.

"I… hadn't thought… hmm," he said, and leaned down to rummage through his bag. He removed an odd antenna device, "If we're close enough, we should be able to get a lock on Connie's cell phone signal using this. We'd have to be really close, like on Pennsylvania Avenue, or perhaps along one of the sides, so that we can get to a point where she can see us to let us in."

"This is your plan, this is your great idea?" asked Julius.

"It's better than my Plan B," acknowledged Shepard.

"And what's Plan B?" asked David.

"Mind control," answered Shepard nonchalantly. "I don't like using it, but if it's out only chance, it's a risk I'm willing to take."

"Mind control?" asked David, unsure of the sanity of the eccentric, but willing to accompany him for now due to his potential utility.

"I'll admit, it's a little dodgy, but it's a workable fallback plan. I'd rather get invited in legally, a lot less moral and ethical problems, but I think getting New York evacuated, or at least the start of an orderly one, should help offset the karmic balance if I use it," said Shepard, not realizing, or at least not acknowledging, the problem David had with his plan.

"So, what exactly does Cerberus do?" asked Julius. "Aside from provide mercenaries to evacuate cities, fly scientists and their fathers hundred of miles, and then ferry them up to the White House in comfortable minivans?"

"Cerberus works on a wide range of projects, from life extension to commercial spaceflight, gene sequencing to techno-thaumaturgy, and beyond," explained Shepard.

"Techno-thaumaturgy?" asked David.

"What is the quote, 'There are more things in Heavy and Earth, Horatio,' or in your case David, 'Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' It's one of Cerberus' guiding principles, one of many," explained Shepard.

"So, aside from being a think tank, what exactly does Cerberus do?" asked David.

"We work with leading companies within fields we've chosen to focus on, adding our insights, and our patents and other intellectual property, to their workflow. Take that laptop of yours, without our work in efficient lithium-ion batteries you'd not be able to get such robust battery life, and without our work in extensible computing, you'd likely have difficulties connecting it to any computer network, let alone nearly every computer network you can physically connect it to. The code and hardware that makes that possible came from Cerberus," said Shepard.

"So it's not just techno-thaumatury and mythical beasts?" asked David.

"No, it's not, that's just a small part of Cerberus, perhaps one in a thousand projects, most of it is rather mundane in comparison, though advanced when compared to what you'd find on store shelves, of course."

"Of course," said David, though he wasn't convinced.

Before the conversation could get much deeper, the van slowed, and with a switch of a button, the tinted windows turned clear, revealing the White House, surrounded by protestors and police, under the shadow of the alien ship above.

"Well, David, now's the time," said Shepard, looking to the genius.

David picked up the odd antenna he'd pulled out earlier and handed it to Shepard, "Here, stick this on the roof."

A few minutes, an open door, a phone call, and a security screening later, the three men were escorted into the Oval Office by Constance Spano.

"I hope you appreciate what this is costing me," said Constance.

"It's important," said David.

"Thank you, Ms. Spano," said Shepard.

"And why are you here, Mr. Shepard? I don't think I fully understand that," asked Constance.

"He's our ride," said David, "And he persuaded Giuliani and Pataki to evacuate New York."

"I'll have you know that The President is very upset about that, undercutting his message like that," complained Constance.

"But it was the right thing to do," pointed out Shepard. "I mean, look at what David's found."

"Speaking of which," said Constance, turning from Shepard to her ex-husband, "What exactly have you found? You said something about a countdown?"

David opened up his laptop on the President's desk, and spun it around to show Constance, "Here, this is the countdown that's embedded in the satellite interference."

Constance looked at the screen, and the rather dramatic green numbers counting down, "That's nearly four hours."

"Three hours, fifty-six minutes, forty-five seconds," said David. "And without Shepard's assistance, we might not have made it in time."

"David wanted me to drive us down," said Julius, putting down a picture of is former daughter-in-law and the President. That the picture was in Whitmore's office showed what the woman meant to the President. "Thank God for Mr. Shepard's offer."

"Yes, quite the offer," said Constance suspiciously.

"Well, I did have an appointment tomorrow," pointed out Shepard.

"How exactly did you get one of those?" asked David.

"He was one of the President's largest private supporters, as soon as he became the front runner in the Primaries, Mr. Shepard pumped millions into the campaign," said Constance. "It'd likely had made more of a difference if he'd not also sunk just as much in the former Vice President's campaign before Whitmore surged ahead following the Convention."

Shepard shugged, "I spent just as much on Quail as I did on Clinton five years ago. As soon as he fell behind in race, and you have to admit, it wasn't that late, I focused all of my funds on Whitmore. Helped him get Colorado."

"Well, despite your ability to throw money around, I'm still not fully convinced you're needed here," said Constance.

"Just get the President, and then, whether he listens or not, we'll be on our way," said Shepard.

"Perhaps you'd better do the talking Shepard," said David.

"Oh?"

"Thomas and David don't have the best of relationships," explained Constance. "David thought I was sleeping with him during the Ninety-four governor's campaign."

"I take it you weren't" asked Shepard.

"Of course not!" countered Constance indignantly.

"I see, well, I'll do my best," offered Shepard.

As Constance left to get the President, Shepard walked over to David, "Okay, explain everything to me, one more time, so I don't mess it up. I'd rather not be the reason the President dies in four hours."

David went over the details, which Shepard already knew, again, as Constance brought the President from the Cabinet room.

"This better be good," said Whitmore as he came into the Oval Office. He then caught sight of David, "What is he doing here?"

"Mr. Levinson is helping to save your life, Mr. President," said Shepard.

"And who are you?" asked Whitmore.

"I'm James Tiberius Shepard, Founder of Cerberus, a think tank out of Scotland. I was also a major contributor to your campaign, and your eleven o'clock tomorrow," said Shepard, offering his hand to shake.

"Shepard," said Whitmore, shaking the hand, "I wasn't expecting you. Aren't you a little early?"

"A bit, but once you hear what Mr. Levinson's discovered, you'll understand," said Shepard, without his so far characteristic ego. It seemed that even he knew he wasn't the most powerful man in the room anymore.

"And what, exactly, has David discovered?" asked Whitmore.

Shepard turned around and turned on the television, though it was muted, showing a news report of the surprisingly successful evacuation of lower Manhattan. It also showed a significant amount of interference. "Notice the interference, if you isolate it, as Mr. Levinson did, you'll notice something." He then walked over to David's laptop and pressed a button. Suddenly the beeping signal that David had earlier isolated in his office was playing from the laptop's tiny speaker, "This is the signal, introduced by the aliens, into our remaining satellite communications. At first, Mr. Levinson just noticed that it was on a diminishing cycle, it was only when the ships revealed themselves that he realized the full implication of the signal."

Shepard grabbed a convenient globe, "It's about line of sight, the mothership positioned midway between the Moon and Earth, at least after having dropped the smaller ships off. From there it can only reach half of the Earth's surface, and thus, only half of the ships. So, to reach the other half, to coordinate their mission, it's using our satellites to send a signal to the other ships, allowing them to coordinate there attacks."

"Attacks?" asked Whitmore.

"Yes, Mr. President, attacks. They've arrayed their ships over the thirty-six largest and most important cities in the world, over every continent save Antarctica. They're sending a signal through their ships that will end at midnight tonight, here in Washington at least. They've attempted no communications whatsoever, and responded to none of our own. This is the first step of an invasion."

"Are they coming to Earth for resources?" asked Constance.

Shepard shook his head, "It's easier to get pretty much everything on Earth out in the Solar System. The only scarce resource we have here on Earth is life."

"What about water? Earth's the only place with oceans," countered Whitmore.

"Europa's got at least as much water as Earth, likely more," said Shepard. "And it's easier to get to as well. Add in the various comets and asteroids in the Kuiper Belt, and there's likely more water out there then we can dream of. Metals and minerals too, and they're not at the bottom of a gravity well either. No, the only reason to come to Earth is for life. Either because they need a new planet, to they need the lifeforms here."

"Slavery?" asked the President.

Shepard shrugged, "Slavery, food, maybe Earth women are easy, who knows. What we do know, is that they plan on taking out our major cities, at least thirty-six of them, possibly even more, before landing troops, at least that's likely given the size of the mothership, and taking over."

"We need to evacuate," said the President.

"And not just LA and DC either," said Shepard. "We need to evacuate all of the major cities, and encourage our allies to do the same while we can still communicate," said Shepard. "I've already encouraged my own family to leave London for my sister's house in Scotland. Luckily my mother's already dead, or else I'd be telling her to leave Denver too."

"And what about taking the fight to them?" asked Whitmore.

Shepard shrugged again, "I don't know, Mr. President. I may be a genius billionaire philanthropist, but I'm not a military man. Get the DoD and the Joint Chiefs involved." Shepard chuckled, "Though, you might need some more unconventional forces if they're as advanced as I fear."

"Unconventional?" asked Whitmore.

Shepard reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and removed a foot-long wooden stick, twirling it between his fingers, "You know, unconventional."

Whitmore looked surprised, while Constance, David, and Julius only looked confused.

"I hadn't thought of them," said Whitmore. "Do you think your kind would be able to assist in the evacuation?"

"Perhaps of high value targets, but not in any large way. Most witches and wizards can barely take another person along a few hundred miles, I myself am limited to two for anything over a hundred miles, and less than five hundred overall. While a portkey'll get more people further, it's not exactly a common skill."

"Witches?" asked Constance. "Wizards? What are you talking about?"

"So, you're saying your friend really does have a mythological three-headed dog as a pet?" asked David.

"He'd like a dragon, but those are pretty restricted by the ICW," said Shepard.

"ICW?" asked David.

"International Confederation of Wizards," said Whitmore. "Sort of a magical UN, only a few hundred years older."

"So, we're just going to magic our way out of this?" asked Julius. "Wave your magic wand and make everything better?"

"No," said Shepard shaking his head. "There's a reason it's secret, there's just not enough witches and wizards to make a difference. Less than one in a thousand births are magical, at least among humans, and most magic is personal, at most affecting small groups or areas. Even the most powerful magic, protecting schools and government buildings, requires the work of dozens of casters over multiple days. And even that won't save you from bombs or the like. I doubt the alien weapon, whatever it is, would be stopped by any ward currently in existence, especially if it's of the city-killer variety."

"So, what good would it be?" asked David. "If magic can't save everybody, what use is it?"

"It can't stop the aliens now, and can't stop their weapons. I wouldn't say it's useless. You can't figure out a way to save everybody either, but you won't see me calling science useless. It's a tool, just like any other."

"So, your techno-thaumatury?" asked Julius.

"Traditionally it's thought that magic and technology can't work together, but mainly it's a matter of interference rather than incompatibility," said Shepard. He then looked down at the laptop, "But we don't have time for that. We have less than three and a half hours to save as many people as possible."

"I'll give the order, call up the Guard and Reserve, start the evacuations of LA and DC," said Whitmore. "I'm guessing I have you to thank for New York's early start?"

"I was in the area," said Shepard with a shrug.

"Hopefully it won't be too late to save as many people as we can," said Whitmore. "I'll have them get Air Force One ready, we'll leave here in two hours," he added.

"So long?" asked Julius.

"We've got an attempt at talking with them first, though it looks like something more out of 'Close Encounters' than I'd have liked," said Whitmore.

"If I may be so bold, Mr. President?" asked Shepard.

"Yes, Mr. Shepard?" asked Whitmore.

"NORAD and StratCom are vulnerable, especially since it's likely the aliens will quickly assume air superiority," said Shepard. "They've already achieved orbital supremacy."

Whitmore nodded, "Makes sense, luckily Challenger's either too small or too unimportant for them to go after." He then turned and walked from the Oval Office.

"Why did you mention NORAD?" asked Constance, who had stayed in the room.

"That's where they send Air Force Two," said Shepard. "I'd rather keep as much of the Chain of Succession intact as possible."