Part 5

The storm followed the Omen north on the highway. It was worse this time when it struck. The agonized wail of the storm was louder, more piercing. Straker still couldn't remember where he'd seen that color of light, but he no longer cared. He just wanted to keep the car on the road.

Again, the Omen began to buck. Rain slashed onto the windshield, blurring everything. Again, the Omen fell up, but the vertigo was far worse. Time was reweaving the rift created by their passage. The universe was mending itself.

The Omen bottomed out on its shocks once more and, just as before, there was silence.

The car phone rang and both men jumped. Straker grabbed the handset.

"Straker."

"Commander," Peter Carlin's voice cracked over the handset's speaker. "Is everything okay down there?"

"Yes, why?" Straker asked. He was still trembling from the effects of the storm. His ears rang and his head hurt.

"Control lost your transponder signal about ten minutes ago and panicked," Carlin reported. "I'll let them know I found you."

"Yes, do that," Straker agreed. He hung up the handset, cutting the connection. The car was still running. Straker pulled it around and headed back to the studio and SHADO Headquarters.

"Control lost our signal ten minutes ago."

"We were gone nearly a full day," Bradley pointed out.

"Were we?" Straker asked.

"An alien trick?" Bradley asked.

Straker shook his head.

"Our report on this should be interesting," Bradley said.

"What report?"

---

"Commander, what happened?" Lake asked when she caught sight of Straker and Bradley entering the control room at SHADO headquarters.

"Nothing happened," Straker said. "We just got caught in that storm. Knocked out communications, that's all. Warn all our teams that if they see that radar signature, they are to avoid that weather if at all possible."

"Yes, sir," Lake acknowledged. She went to Paulson's console and instructed the operative to pass along the order.

"You look like you've been through hell," a familiar, gravelly voice said. Straker looked over to see General James Henderson standing in the door of the office.

"Isn't it past your bedtime?" Straker asked. "It's " He glanced at the wall clock to check. "Two in the morning."

"I don't need much sleep at my age," the old man said. He was over seventy, still straight backed and square shouldered. His eyes and mind were still needle sharp. He stepped aside to let Straker into the office. Straker went to his desk and sat down. Bradley stood beside the door.

"Mandy and I were going through some old things last night and I found something you might find interesting." He handed Straker an old black and white photograph.

Straker looked at it for a long moment. There were four men standing on the porch of an old bungalow.

He turned the photo over. Written on the back, in Amanda Henderson's neat script, was July 5, 1947 General Sanders, Ed S, Jim, Mark B'.

"Interesting coincidence," Straker said, handing the photograph back to Henderson.

"I thought so, especially since I don't remember this being taken," Henderson said. "Then, I don't remember much of that day at all. I was especially intrigued by this fellow." He pointed to the blond figure in the dark suit. "He looks an awful lot like you."

"I wasn't even ten, then," Straker said. "I'm told I look a lot like my Uncle Edward. Maybe that's who it was."

Henderson gave him an appraising look. "I still haven't decided who's the worse liar," he said. "You or your father." He shook his gray head and put the photo in his pocket. "You're probably right, though. It's just an interesting coincidence." He headed for the office door. "Oh, yes, Kate called me. She wants Mandy and me to come to San Francisco for the holiday."

"Are you going?" Straker asked.

"I haven't decided yet," Henderson said. "I know you won't." The doors closed behind him.

"Sir, did it happen?" Bradley asked.

"Discounting that photograph, is there any evidence that it did?" Straker asked.

"No, sir," Bradley admitted.

"Then, it didn't happen," Straker said. "Ask Colonel Lake to get somebody from security to drive you out to the research center, later. You should be able to catch a nap in the lounge."

"Yes, sir," Bradley agreed. He left the office.

Straker watched after him a long moment, then reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out four dog tags. He studied them, then put them back in his pocket. "What evidence?" he asked himself.

---

The storm was over, but the power was still out. Mandy had finally got back from the hospital. She and Jim were asleep in the guest room. Charlie had gone off to bed a short time ago. She was exhausted and from what she had told him, it wasn't going to get better. Two years, maybe three, she had said.

He was still wide awake. He considered getting a beer, or something harder, but decided against it. The alcohol really didn't help. He knew that. He also knew he was going to need a clear head to pull things together for his family.

Barry found himself climbing the stairs in the darkness. The Henderson boys were camped out of the floor of the upstairs hallway. He made his way around them and opened the door to his son's room.

Eddie was still awake. The cat was draped over the end of the bed, asleep.

"Don't you ever sleep?" Barry asked.

"My head hurts," the boy said.

Barry looked around the moonlit room, the overcrowded shelves. "How about we move some of this stuff out of here after church," Barry said. "We can set a lab up in the garage."

"You mean it?" Eddie asked.

"Yes," Barry said. "Just promise me you won't try anything without checking with a grown up first. I don't want you blowing yourself up."

"Sure," Eddie agreed. Barry could hear the puzzlement in his son's voice. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the boy to him in a hug. After a moment, the boy put his arms around him.

"I know I don't show it, but you are my son, and I do love you," Barry said. "I don't want you to ever forget that."

Eddie pulled back. "Daddy, what's wrong?"

Barry began to say 'nothing,' but decided against it.

"Don't worry about it," he said instead. "It's late, we both need to get some sleep. We'll talk about it later."

Eddie settled back down under the covers and closed his eyes. "Good night, Daddy," a very small voice called out as Barry began to leave.

"Good night, son," Barry said softly, closing the door.

---

Straker came out of his office and looked around the control center. He spotted General Henderson talking with Colonel Lake and headed over to them.

"I'm glad you're still here," he said, handing Henderson a slip of paper. Henderson looked at the cryptic notation on the slip and gave Straker a questioning look.

"Your flight leaves at four this afternoon," Straker explained. "The tickets will be waiting at the counter." He turned to Lake. "Colonel, get onto Alconbury and tell them their plane suffered a midair collision with a civilian craft during the storm. No survivors. Tell them we'll handle the clean up."

"I'll order the mobiles to begin the cleanup at first light," Lake said.

"Don't bother," Straker said. "They won't find anything."

Lake gave him a puzzled look. Straker pretended not to notice.

"Get Alec Freeman back here," Straker ordered. "He'll be in command while I'm gone."

"Gone where?" Lake asked.

"San Francisco. My flight leaves in two hours."

"I thought you weren't going," Henderson said.

"I wasn't, but Barry is the only father I've got. I figure it's about time I made peace with him," Straker said. "Time, you never know when you might run out it."

He turned to Lake: "I'll be back in a week."

Henderson turned to go.

"Oh, General," Straker called. "I have an interesting story to tell you, about that picture."

"Roswell?" Henderson asked.

"About a plane crash and a Ufo, and what really happened."

Henderson just stared at him.

"I'll tell you about it in San Francisco," Straker promised.