The Last Transmission

6 — Settling Scores in the Sky

Hamilton drove slowly into the compound, the roar of the engine echoing off walls hidden by trees and branches. Amanda clutched Emily’s hand, while the girl still clung to Brad, who was barely breathing.

At the far end, under the shadows lit by floodlights, Reynolds appeared. His bearing was the same as always: uniform immaculate, the cold, calculating gaze of a man who was always three steps ahead. When he saw the vehicle stop, he advanced with firm steps, flanked by two armed soldiers moving like his bodyguards.

“Hamilton,” Reynolds said in a grave tone as soon as the SUV door opened. “I’m glad you made it. But there’s no time to lose. I need you in the air immediately.”

Mike clenched his jaw and stepped out of the vehicle, standing squarely before his superior without lowering his gaze.

How could this man not give him a moment of peace, even when he had a gravely injured boy with him?

“With all due respect, sir, I won’t lift a finger until that boy gets medical attention.” He pointed at the back seat where Brad lay, his head and torso resting on Emily’s lap. “I won’t let him die in my hands while you send me on a suicide mission.”

Reynolds frowned, his jaw tightening. The soldiers at his side shifted uncomfortably at Hamilton’s open defiance—no one dared to challenge Reynolds. Amanda stepped out too, standing next to her husband as if her presence alone could reinforce his stand.

“Mike…” Reynolds’ voice dropped lower, almost paternal, though his eyes stayed hard. “What’s happening out there won’t wait. I need eyes in the sky, pilots who know what they’re doing. And you’re the best of them, even at your age.”

“What that boy needs is a doctor.” Mike didn’t budge, his tone sharp and resolute. “And until he has one, I’m not getting on that plane. You decide.”

A heavy silence settled. Emily sobbed quietly in the back seat, stroking Brad’s forehead. Reynolds glanced at her, then back to Mike. Finally, he exhaled, resigned.

“Fine,” he growled, raising a hand to the soldiers. “Bring the medical team—now! Stabilize him and keep him under monitoring until he’s fully recovered.”

One of the soldiers bolted toward a metal door of the facility. Within minutes, two military medics rushed over with packs of supplies. Amanda guided them to the SUV’s rear, stepping aside quickly.

Emily, tears in her eyes, pleaded:

“Please… save him.”

She then collapsed into her mother’s arms, unwilling to rest until Brad was back to himself.

The medics worked swiftly—setting up portable oxygen, checking vitals, preparing an IV. They tore open his shirt to assess the wound’s severity. One medic nodded, seeing there was still hope.

Reynolds folded his arms and leaned toward Mike, speaking low enough for only him to hear.

“I’ll make it clear, Hamilton. The boy will live… but only if you do what I need. The sky is a battlefield now, and if we don’t get in the air soon, what you saw out there will be just the beginning.”

So the threat wasn’t confined to the ground—these beings intended to rule the skies as well?

Mike gave him a sidelong look, the weight of choice pressing down hard.

“Brad first. Then we’ll talk about your damn mission.”

Reynolds nodded slowly, a glint of satisfaction flickering in his eyes.

Though Reynolds was his commanding officer, Hamilton knew how to handle him. They were not friends, but Mike had long since learned how to push back without crossing the line to insubordination. Fear wasn’t what guided him—it was principle.

“So be it. But remember, Hamilton… time is running out.”

At that moment, one of the medics called from the back of the SUV:

“Patient stabilized! But he needs continuous treatment—we can’t move him much.”

Emily hugged Brad tightly, that sliver of hope washing over her. Amanda breathed deeply in relief, while Mike’s eyes locked with Reynolds’.

The commander’s lips curved into a hard smile.

“Good. Your family will be safe here… for now. But you and I have unfinished business in the air. Don’t worry about them—they’ll be transferred to what will now be their new home. Once you return from your mission, you’ll see them again.”

Mike clenched his fists, knowing the true hell was just about to begin.

He kissed Amanda as though that kiss alone might guarantee his survival. He hugged Emily, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead as he had when she was a child. Before leaving, his eyes lingered on Brad, unconscious now, his head still in Emily’s lap, sedated heavily so the medics could treat him without pain.

“Get well soon, Brad,” Mike whispered.

Then he left with Reynolds. The pilot followed his commander to an improvised control base, far from the other active areas of the airfield.

“Lewis, give us the report,” Reynolds barked at the soldier monitoring the control station, which tracked aircraft and pilot movements.

As if expecting it, the African-American soldier grabbed a cardboard folder from his desk and handed it over. Reynolds flipped it open, showing it to Hamilton, who stood at his side, alert to every detail.

“These are the coordinates. Heavy alien activity has been detected there. We need to know what they’re planning, and you’re the one who’ll find out. But don’t worry—you won’t be going alone. I’ll assign you a partner for this mission.” Reynolds tapped a finger at two thick red lines forming a triangle, marking a precise location near the sea—far from where they currently were.

“What? A partner? Who? Sir, you know damn well I don’t need one. Never have. Why now?” Mike protested. He disliked the idea instantly.

His eyes lingered on the map.

The coordinates were clear as day. How could Reynolds be so blind? Any teenager with a phone could recognize that place instantly.

Reynolds shoved the folder into Mike’s hands, wishing him luck. He instructed him to wait—he’d fetch his assigned partner because it was time to launch.

Once Reynolds was gone, Lewis swiveled in his chair, fixing Mike with a grave look. There was something he wanted to say before Reynolds returned.

“What is it?” Mike asked, a knot twisting in his chest. His instincts screamed not to go on this mission, but what choice did he have?

Lewis hesitated, eyes weighted with worry, then took a deep breath.

“The coordinates point to…” He paused, gathering courage. Then he let it out. “They point to the Bermuda Triangle.”