The alarm buzzed and Sergeant Todd leapt to his feet. His team was part of the Boston based Alien Rapid Response Group, popularly abbreviated to ARRG. Some Aussies thought it would be a great name and were probably ‘having a go’ as they say Down Under, but the name stuck. “Make them go ARRG!” was the group’s rallying cry. Every country had one or more units specialised in quickly responding to news of a FOP hunt.

  America had a lot less hunts after an early busy period. Todd figured that too many hunter party wipeouts was bad for business. Someone said that an armed society was a polite society, but Sergeant Todd reckoned it just made it too dangerous for alien hunting parties. “Suckers!” he thought to himself.

  “Go! Get to the chopper you lazy bastards!” yelled the sergeant to his men who were quickly running to the attack helicopters. The Boston ARRG was well equipped with a small fleet of Apache fast attack helicopters with a 30mm chain gun and Hellfire missiles. Only the craziest of pilots flew the Apaches. FOP hunters were overpowered, under skilled and trigger happy. The Apaches’ role was to quickly, very quickly, fly low and fast and make a first strike on a hunting party and race away. Then the rest of the ARRG unit would follow up in the Chinook helicopters, land out of sight and rapidly move in to clean up any survivors.

  With the relatively limited hunts that took place in the USA, most ARRG units went on rotation to places that were more likely to get hunts. Lower density populations were more likely to get hit. Most of the units liked to rotate for stints in Australia and New Zealand as they were hit at a higher per capita rate than many other countries.

  The Boston ARRG team had last been in action when they were in Nantucket Island, captured a princess and had a tense negotiating session with the FOP hunter security forces. They had lost one of their Apaches and a number of good men in that attack. Since then, nothing. More waiting.

  Until today! Adrenaline surging, Sergeant Todd leapt into the Chinook cabin and briefed his team.

  “Gentlemen,” he yelled so he could be heard above the roaring blades lifting them into the air, “We have some action today. The Apaches are on the warpath and racing to get the first strike. We’re racing to get another FOP Wipeout!”

  The men grinned as they hugged their powerful weapons. The Boston ARRG team prided themselves on their men’s individuality and that was reflected in the range of gear each trooper carried. From over powered pistols such as Magnum 44s to automatic machine guns and everything in between. If they could carry it, or pair with another to assist, they could use it.

  “Where are we going, Sarge?” asked Corporal Miller, chewing his gum with a passion, “This route looks familiar.”

  “Yeah,” yelled Sergeant Todd, “Looks like those FOPS don’t have much imagination. We’re going right next to their last attack.”

  Corporal Miller remembered his local geography, “Those small islands near Nantucket Island?”

  “Think bigger,” said the Sergeant, grinning, “Martha’s Vineyard!”

  All the men stopped their fiddling and stared at the Sergeant.

  “Ain’t that where all those rich folks live, Sarge?” asked Taylor, the very large trooper who liked his Browning .50 calibre machine gun. Two of his buddies helped him with the ammunition and tripod.

  “Yep!” said the Sergeant, “So you try to be careful and not blow up any fancy houses, you hear?”

  The troopers looked at each other confused. From experience, blowing things up was all part of the job of hunting alien hunters.

  Seeing their confusion, Sergeant Todd looked at his overly alarmed men and added, “Just try, OK?”

  Relief washed over the cabin’s occupants.

  “Now just relax. We’ll be there in about twenty minutes,” finished Todd as he sat down and strapped himself in. He then quickly reminded the troopers, “Strap yourselves in! We’re not going in slow or steady. Bill is driving this bus today.”

  The troopers all promptly tightened their straps and held on. Bill was probably the best Chinook pilot in their ARRG unit and somehow had always got them in and out again. But his flying was not for the faint of heart - or stomach.

  A short while later they dropped to only a few yards above the waters of Rhode Island Sound, sending sprays of water in huge waves either side of their thrusting progress. Many of the troopers looked away or closed their eyes as Bill gave a whoop of excitement and announced, “We’re goin’ in boys! Be there in five! Yea ha!”

  Corporal Miller was one of the rare troopers that liked the thrill of Bill’s flying and chewed his gum contentedly as he looked out the open side of the Chinook, watching the water and then ground race past. They felt a slight rise as Bill lifted above the trees. Barely above the trees. A few stray leaves made their way into their cabin. Miller laughed as he caught a leaf and placed it into his pocket for good luck.

  Sergeant Todd yelled to his men, “The FOPs have been spotted in the woods near West Tisbury Farmers Market. Luckily it’s Thursday so it isn’t packed with stall holders and visitors. The Apache’s hit hard and have left. One of them was singed but they’re OK. It’s up to us to finish the wipeout!”

  “Make them go ARRG!” shouted the men. It was a stupid phrase, but they had picked it up from the damn Aussies on their last secondment. They were a bad influence.

  There was smoke and some small fires in the woods, but the field used for parking beside the market looked clear. Sergeant Todd unfastened his straps and, holding the support straps tightly, made his way to cabin and looked over Bill’s shoulder out the front window.

  He pointed ahead at the smoke and then to the right at the open area, “Down there!” he yelled.

  Bill grinned and yelled, “Hang on boys! We’re goin’ in!!”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The troopers quickly unbuckled at Bill’s warning for a quick escape, but held on tight, shaking from side to side as the helicopter spun. Bill increased his speed and somehow dropped even lower as he sped to the field, spun ninety degrees and dropped to within inches above the ground.

  “Go! Go! Go!” yelled Sergeant Todd. He knew this was the most dangerous part of the hunt. The Chinook was a very big and very juicy target.

  “There they are!” yelled one of the landed troopers. A laser bolt left the woods and hit him in the chest, enveloping him in a ball of light and heat. Bill raced upwards as the last trooper leapt to the ground in a hurry. Those with portable weapons quickly returned fire and the alien scurried back into the market stalls building.

  Taylor and his two buddies raced for the copse of trees with open frontage overlooking the buildings. The rest of the team scattered in their fire groups throughout the area. It was a lovely area with plenty of large established trees and a variety of small and larger buildings.

  Sergeant Todd followed Taylor to better direct the large lad’s automatic fire.

  Another alien popped out of one of the windows and fired a gun at a trooper moving between cover, hitting him in the leg. The trooper fell and dived forwards, raising a cloud of Summer dust as he hit the dirt. Sergeant Todd could tell the trooper was alive, but being in the open the trooper wisely played possum.

  “You ready yet, Taylor?”

  “Almost, Sarge,” Miller replied as he lifted the eighty pound weapon and with a grunt placed it on to the tripod set up by his buddies.

  “Where?” Taylor said, slightly puffing as he lay behind the weapon and checked the ammunition feed.

  “Blow them out of that building!” Todd said firmly.

  “I thought we weren’t supposed to destroy stuff?” asked Taylor.

  “I said ‘try’,” said Todd, “Now make them go ARRG!”

  The phrase still felt cringe to the sergeant, but the men liked it and, well in this case, it felt right. He watched the .50 calibre bullets form a lovely pattern across the walls of the thinly built building.

  Watching carefully for any movement, he directed the rest of the troopers forward. Colonel Miller raced ahead and dropped to the ground next to a tree beside the building. He pulled out a grenade and threw it in to where the alien had last been seen.

  BOOM!

  The building collapsed into a pile of rubble. The Browning .50 calibre had ripped through all the supporting walls and the high explosive grenade had finished the job. The troopers with Colonel Miller raced to the rubble with weapons ready for any movement.

  One fired at something and they heard “ARRG.”

  “Yeah!” chorused the nearby troopers.

  Sergeant Todd pointed at the woods behind the rubble, “Taylor, more targets for you, lad!”

  Looking up and following the direction of Sergeant Todd’s finger he realigned his machine gun and fired at the woods.

  “Did we get it, Sarge?“ Taylor asked.

  “Can’t tell. Keep watch of that area,” said Todd as he yelled across to Corporal Miller, “Send two fire teams to the woods. At least one alien, maybe wounded.”

  Corporal Miller nodded and directed two teams of three troopers around both ends of the rubble and into the woods, either side of Taylor’s line of fire.

  Sergeant Todd stood quietly as he watched and waited. He heard a laser bolt fire followed by a burst of gunfire, then silence.

  His comm unit crackled, and Corporal Miller’s voice said, “Wipeout, Sir.”

  There was a pause, and Sergeant Todd said, “And?”

  “Johnson and Hills are dead, Sir,” came the quiet reply, “A huge energy blast killed them both as they rounded a large tree.”

  Sergeant Todd sighed, “Gather all the equipment. Leave behind the communicators with screens. Take everything else. We’ll search the rubble.”

  After they had all gathered in front of the destroyed market stall building, they stood in a circle and remembered their fallen brothers with a quiet prayer. Johnson and Hills died in the line of duty, defending the innocents who would otherwise be the prey of these hunters.

  The sound of Bill returning with the Chinook broke the silence and they stood aside as medical personnel exited the chopper, carrying medical supplies and stretchers.

  Sirens and lights accompanied the arrival of the civilian first responders of fire, ambulance and police. They promptly went into action and suppressed small fires and checked the area.

  A scream from one of the firefighters made the ARRG troopers raise their weapons and turn to the sound. A small firefighter was standing in terror as a sheet of the market stall roof moved and a small creature made itself visible. It looked like a black pom pom ball and had spindly arms and legs. Its hands were out and it threw its communicator away from everyone.

  Sergeant Todd stepped forward, his gun holstered and hands spread in an appeasing motion. His men nervously watched their Sergeant approach this alien whose hands were also stretched out wide.

  “Now, now,” said Sergeant Todd, “Just take it easy.”

  Tapping the firefighter on the shoulder he quietly said, “You can step back now,”.

  She looked at him and replied, “Can I stay? He’s cute.”

  Todd raised his eyebrow at her and shrugged his shoulders, “Your funeral, lady. Just stay behind me.”

  She quickly stepped behind Sergeant Todd but poked her head to the side to see around the solidly built soldier.

  The Pom Pom ball shuddered as the large Dirtling approached him.

  “I surrender!” it said.

  “What?” asked Sergeant Todd.

  “Really?” asked the firefighter.

  Sergeant Todd looked at the two foot round pom pom ball and said the first thing he thought, “Welcome to America.”

  The firefighter stepped past Todd and held out her hand, “I’m Janice. Happy to meet you.”

  The Pom Pom alien stepped back, alarmed at the outstretched hand of Janice.

  “Oops, Sorry,” said Janice as she quickly put her hand back in her pocket, and blurted out, “You know, you’re just so darned cute, don’t ya know?”

  Sergeant Todd thought quickly. They had to act quick or those hunter security guys would be back and Pom Pom guy would be rescued.

  “Miller!” he yelled and Miller was at Todds’s side in moments.

  “Did you capture a laser gun?” Todd asked. Miller reached in to his jacket and pulled out a laser pistol.

  At Todd’s enquiring look, Miller said sheepishly, “I was just minding it.”

  Todd quickly said, “Get the Pom Pom guy’s communicator he threw away. Go back to the explosion that killed Johnson and Hills and place it there.”

  Todd reached for the laser gun and turned the knob on the side to the highest setting, and instructed Miller, “Then fire this at the communicator. That should make the Hunter Security guys think this guy died in the explosion. Go! They could get beamed up at any moment!”

  Miller raced forward and picked up the communicator while running and disappeared into the woods. A few moments later they heard a huge explosion. The other discarded communicators and dead aliens shimmered in a blue light and disappeared.

  “Everyone clear out!” shouted Todd, “In five minutes Hunter Security will be here. You all have to go NOW!”

  The area cleared in moments and Sergeant Todd stood with Corporal Miller and his men at the base of the rubble.

  The hunter security unit materialised the other side of the rubble and Todd raised his hands to show he had no weapons at hand.

  Hendon stepped forward and nodded at Sergeant Todd, who nodded back.

  “Wipeout,” said Todd.

  Hendon looked carefully at Todd and raised his eyebrow. It seemed liked raised eyebrows were a universal thing. Who knew?

  “Yep,” said Todd, “No survivors. You really shouldn’t hunt in the United States.”

  “We noticed all the gear was missing,” said Hendon.

  “We can’t see any either,” said Todd with a straight face, “They must have lost it all. In a fall.”

  Hendon noticed the rest of sergeant Todd’s forces nearby and decided that this was another total loss. “Wipeout, eh?”

  “That’s what we call it,” answered Todd, “It’s dangerous around here.”

  “Be careful, Dirtling,” said Hendon and spoke into his communicator.

  With a nod, Hendon and his troops disappeared.

  Todd breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Are you best buddies now, Sergeant?” teased Miller.

  “No,” said Sergeant Todd, looking at where the Hunter Security soldier had stood, “Just fellow soldiers in arms I think.”