The Alien Syndicate

word count: 1,900 prompt: The aliens were here all along







FBI agent Robert Hearth shook his head and stroked his chin as he stood in the house of a murdered politician. In the victim’s house were forensic specialists, police, photographers and a coroner.

“Quite odd isn’t it?” asked his associate Agent Rick Palmer.

Agent Hearth nodded. “You have that right. Just three weeks before Senator Price was to deliver his speech, he is killed in his second estate in Alexandria.”

“What was it that he claimed was so important to tell? The way he acted and spoke was like he discovered the Holy Grail,” Agent Palmer returned.

“I have some people I want to question.”

“Like who?”

“I’ll start with his family and then his political acquaintances.”

Agent Palmer looked down and sighed. “It’s a shame we would need special clearance to interrogate his superiors.”



“Yes, and it would take substantial reason to do so. We don’t have that and obtaining a valid reason to question them is scant.” Agent Hearth ran his hand down his face. “Well, I’ll leave you and everyone else to wrap things up. I must get permission from an FBI Chief to question his widow.”

“Go ahead, well take things from here Robert.”

“Thanks Rick,” he said as he walked out of the house where reporters were scavenging to be closest to the yellow police tape surrounding the dead man’s house.

Robert entered his car, then took his cell from his coat and dialed. “Chief Sanders, this is Robert Hearth. I think it would be advantageous to question Senator Price’s family and also any close colleagues in the senate or friends he may have had.” Robert paused to listen to Chief Sanders. “Okay, I’ll be down to pick up the warrant.”

Agent Hearth started his car and drove to the nearest FBI branch in Alexandria, Virginia near FBI headquarters in Washington DC. Twenty minutes later he arrived, and promptly picked up the warrant and went back to his car. “Alright, what does Mrs. Price have to say?” he asked out loud. Robert drove to the Price estate which was surprisingly close to the FBI location he had come from.

Agent Hearth got out of his car and walked to a large house with a white, porcelain fountain in a wide front yard. He approached the front door and knocked. “FBI,” he said in a loud, straight tone.

A few minutes later, the door opened revealing a wide eyed, grey haired woman. “Yes. Is this about my husband?” she said with a jitter in her voice.

“It is. May I come in?”

“Yes, of course - and call me Trish,” she said as she let him in. “Pleas have a seat,” Trish said motioning to a white leather chair.

“I only have a few questions for you,” said Agent Hearth.

“Very well. But please dismiss all pleasantries and be as direct as you would. My husband’s death is still very painful, but I am coping,” she said as she wiped a tear from her eye.

“Over the past several months, did you notice anything odd or disturbing?”

“As a matter of fact, I did. It was four months ago. One day he came home with glossy, wide eyes like he was scared of something. Being in the senate he could never tell me too much about his work, but I asked anyway,” Trish said. She tilted her head and looked down for a few moments. “Then he answered me.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said he had obtained important information – something that would alter the whole world. A little while later, he said it was getting time to divulge his secret.”

“When did he notify the press saying he was coming forth with his information?”

“Not long afterwards. I was in the hallway and I overheard him in his room on the phone saying to someone that something vital was going to be released from the White House itself. Then he made multiple calls presenting his intentions to different newspapers and news shows.”

“It must have caught on quickly. It was a little while over four months that I first heard of it.” Agent Hearth pulled a small note pad and a pen from his pocket. “Do you have the names of any friends or colleagues he may have confided in?”

Trish nodded. “He had one close friend named John Dodson. He is a recluse like my husband was and is actually an FBI agent. Do you know him?”

“No. The first thing I’ll do after this is contact him,” agent Hearth said as he wrote down the name then stood. “Thank you for your help. And I’m very sorry for the death of your husband.”

“Thank you.”

Robert saw himself out and walked to his car and got in. He looked down and stroked his chin. Agent Dodson he thought to himself as he drove off.

He went to headquarters and once inside, he walked to FBI Chief Sanders’ open door and entered. “I need to speak with one of our agents. His name is John Dodson,” Robert said to Sanders. “He has connection to Senator Price.”

“I see,” Sanders said behind a desk with a computer. “I’ll have him report here as soon as he can.”

Forty-five minutes later, Dodson showed up. “You called for me?” he said to Sanders.

“Agent Hearth has reason to speak with you,” Sanders replied. “I have to go to speak with a liaison from FBI base in back at DC.”

“In my office if you would,” said Hearth.

Agent John Dodson followed him into the small room and both men sat down at a table.

Hearth folded his hands. “We’re both in the Bureau so I will be direct. Did Senator Price give you any info about anything related to his message he was to deliver to the press?”

Dodson’s eyes widened and he gripped his arm rests. “Let me be direct as well agent Hearth. I suggest you drop the matter.”

“Your reaction infers you know something.”

Agent Dodson leaned in. “I’m warning you, you’re messing with a Pandora’s Box. You’re meddling with things over your head.” With those words Agent Dodson stood and rushed out of the office.

Hearth just stared into space, in shock. With no other leads or business with the situation, he left for home. Later that night, he lay in his bed staring at the white ceiling with a twinge of anxiety. What on Earth is happening? he thought.

It was a sunny Friday the next morning and Robert went to brew some coffee as soon as he got out of bed. He stretched and inhaled the smooth, heavy aroma from the coffee. Like he always did he walked outside his door for the mail. Immediately at his feet was an envelope. He picked it up and it was blank on both sides. Robert pulled out a letter addressed to him. It read If you want to know Price’s secret, got to the very left corner of the White House library and you’ll find another letter.

A chill went down his spine and he frowned. “This is lunacy. But how does someone know about my investigation?”

Agent Hearth walked back inside and got dressed in a flurry. He grabbed his keys, forgetting his coffee and caught the next plane to the White House in DC. But how far could he go with his FBI clearance?

Soon he arrived inside wearing his badge and approached a woman at a desk. “I did not know the FBI had business in the library. What is the reason you are here?”

“That is classified. I just need to examine a few documents.”

“Very well. You may enter,” she said.

Hearth nodded and went inside to a vast chamber full of people at desks. Books on towering shelves filled the immense room. He was noticed by some as he made his way to the very left corner. It took fifteen minutes to reach the secluded back section. After some looking, he found an envelope protruding from one of books. He pulled it out and retrieved another note. Pull in this order. it said.

In the middle of the letter were numbers from one to seven from left to right. In the book case where the note was were periodicals, records, In-depth law addendums and other complex subjects. Under each number was a title. Agent Hearth raised an eyebrow. “This is ridiculous. What if I’m being toyed with by some nutty crackpot?” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Nevertheless.” Hearth began to pull out each book half way out in order on the note. Hearth was startled by a button-like object protrude from the wall. His heart leapt and Robert stepped back. “Okay, I think it is time to be cautious and take this seriously,” he said to himself. Robert gripped what had come out of the wall and tried twisting it like a door knob with no affect. Then he pushed it. An opening below the button appeared. Hearth rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. He opened them and the opening was still there. I’m in this deep. I don’t think can turn back now. he thought.

He crouched and slipped through the small entryway. When he was in, the opening closed. Agent Hearth was in a vast room with files lining the wall and folders and papers with TOP SECRET and AUTHORIZED ONLY written on many desks. He saw a photo of on one of them. His jaw dropped as he picked it up. The photo showed little green men with large eyes coming out of a saucer shaped craft. He put it down and opened one of the folders. “This can’t be real,” Hearth said as he read what was in the folder.

He was reading a record of years where aliens had been controlling global events and power shifts with the knowledge of secret human governments. It went back as far as 400 years. These aliens had influenced the Kennedy assassination, both world wars and their control over the US government along with other nations. Most frightening of all was the aliens’ plan to establish a world order where they would reveal themselves.

“This is what Senator Price was so intent on disclosing to the public. Mankind has been looking for aliens when they have been here all along for the past 400 years,” Hearth said out loud.

A man’s voice came from behind him. “Indeed, it is amazing is it not?”

Hearth turned around and his eyes widened as he saw a gray haired man in a black suit with a gun pointed at Robert.

“Who are you and how long have you known about this?” Robert asked with a trembling voice. .

“Almost a decade. But all this is for the good of the world. Call me Lucas. How did you find this place?”

“I was led here via anonymous notes I have received.”

“Well it makes no matter. This person will be found. As for you, well you’ll understand I’ll have to kill you.”

“You’re a traitor to the human race! How could you…”

Robert’s last words were obscured by the loud shot that came from Lucas’ gun. His victim fell to his knees then to the ground.

“It is a pity. It seems you were too adamant to be on the winning side,” Lucas said to the corpse.